Rachel Lindsay - An Affair To Forget

by Rachel Lindsay

"Then I don't think you've known many nice ones!" she said quietly, and marched up to the front door.

  Nicky watched her for a moment, then he let in the clutch and drove away, the look of surprise still on his face.

  Aunt Alice opened the door to Valerie's knock, her face wreathed in smiles. "Congratulations, darling. Your news was the biggest surprise of my life." The twinkling eyes looked beyond her niece's shoulder. "Isn't Mr. Barratt with you?"

  "No."

  Valerie followed her aunt into the dining room and looked at the laden table with dismay. There were dishes piled with sandwiches, scones, and a large walnut cake delicately wreathed with icing.

  "I wish you hadn't gone to all this trouble," Valerie said. "Nicky wanted to come in but he—he had to rush back to meet a reporter." How glibly the lie came to her lips, Valerie acknowledged, and determined it would be the last she would make for her fiancé, not the first.

  "Never mind," her aunt said. "We have to eat, even if he doesn't!"

  It was not until they were both on their second cup of tea that the older woman again referred to her surprise at the engagement.

  "I always thought you'd marry Mark. So did your father."

  "And everyone else in Kerring. That's probably why I didn't."

  "You always were an obstinate girl!" her aunt said dryly. "But you've certainly done the unexpected this lime. I hope you weren't swept off your feet by all the glamour?"

  "The glamour almost swept me away from him," Valerie answered slowly. "Nicky's life is so exciting that I was afraid he'd find me a bore."

  "What a way to talk! Don't tell me you've got doubts already?"

  Aunt Alice did nothing to disguise her concern. "Are you sure you shouldn't have waited to get to know him better?"

  "I know I love him." Valerie said quickly. "Getting to know him will come later."

  "It should be the other way around."

  "Not with a man like Nicky. He has to trust you before he can show his real feelings."

  "Has he shown them to you?"

  "Some." Valerie pushed back her chair. "I'd better go up and change. I don't want to be late."

  It was six-thirty when she gave her name to one of the receptionists at the Savoy and was allowed to go upstairs to the suite that was Nicky's home when he lived in London.

  Bob Vane was the only occupant of the sitting room, and he came forward to greet her, his rugged face beaming at the news.

  "It's great to see you, Valerie. Congratulations. I'm delighted at the news. Come and make yourself comfortable. You're one of the family now."

  Valerie looked round the opulent but impersonal room. "Families have homes."

  "This is Nicky's home. You'll get used to it." He settled her in a chair and without asking, handed her a glass of orange juice, watching from beneath lowered lids as she sipped it.

  The silence between them lasted so long that Valerie began to feel uncomfortable and tried to break it.

  "I—I'm glad you're pleased that Nicky and I are engaged."

  "Why shouldn't I be?"

  "Because I___ " She hesitated, and then decided to be frank. "Because I'm not the glamorous sort of girl he usually goes around with."

  "Nicky's got enough glamour of his own without having to marry it. It's time he—" Bob stopped abruptly. "Heck, what nonsense we're talking. Nicky may have more material things to offer than most men, but you've got the qualities that count. You're real and honest and you're a lady."

  Valerie warmed to the compliment but at the same time felt there was something strange about it; something out of keeping with the worldly businessman she knew Bob to be. After all, he had only met her a couple of times. How could he be so certain she was the right person for Nicky?"

  Before she could air her questions, Nicky himself came in. He was already dressed for the charity show he was giving, and his bronze velvet dinner jacket brought out golden glints in his brown eyes and enhanced his pale skin and black hair. But there were lines of strain on either side of his mouth and she knew a longing to cradle him in her arms. Forgetting her shyness, she ran up to him, and as he pulled her close she felt the tension in his body.

  "Oh Nicky, I'll try so hard to make you happy," she murmured.

  His eyes gazed into hers, dark, glittering and unfathomable. Then she could no longer see them for he bent his head and found her lips.

  "Well, well," a light voice trilled behind them. "Rehearsing for your new film, darling?"

  With an exclamation Nicky stepped back and Valerie came face to face with the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. She was tall and exceptionally slender, with long, dark red hair and creamy skin. Her eyes were heavily made-up, the long lashes thick with mascara, the lids the same blue as the dilated irises. But I he classical mouth did not owe its crimson to any artifice, nor did the full breasts that thrust forward through the gauzy material of a dress that Valerie, ignorant though she was of fashion, immediately recognized as a Yuki.

  "Dawn!" Nicky exclaimed. "How did you get here?"

  "I put on my pointed hat and flew in on a broom-stick," the girl drawled. "I'd have banged the handle (>n the door if I'd known you had company."

  There was a tense silence and Bob stepped forward. "Valerie isn't company. She's Nicky fianc6e."

  "She's what?" Dawn looked at Bob Vane as if he were an insect she would like to crush. "If this is your idea of a joke then—"

  "Let me talk, Bob," Nicky cut in, and stepped i loser to Dawn, as if wishing to shield her from anyone else in the room. "I tried to call you on Sunday but you were out of town."

  "What difference would it have made if I'd found out on Sunday or today? Whenever I'd have been told, I'd have disbelieved it. You can't play me for such a fool." The slender figure sidestepped the man and blue eyes raked Valerie. "You don't expect me to swallow her as your girl friend, do you?"

  "She's my fiancée," Nicky stated flatly.

  "And what am I? Your maiden aunt?"

  "You were no more to Nicky than any of the other dozen girls he's been seen around with in the past few months," Bob intervened, showing his command of the scene by the firmness of his tone. "Nicky had to keep quiet about Valerie because her father wanted her to be sure she was doing the right thing. And because neither of them wanted the news to leak out, Nicky had to go on leading his old life."

  "Poor Nicky!" The redhead spat out the words.

  "And poor Bob if you think I'll believe such a story."

  "It's true and there's nothing you can do to disprove it." Bob turned his head. "Go on, Valerie, tell her yourself."

  There was a rushing sound in Valerie's ears. She wanted to shout that it was all a lie and that she didn't want to be a part of it. But Nicky was looking at her stoically, his eyes saying what his tongue dare not utter. Either she trusted him and went along with what he and Bob Vane wished, or she walked out of his life here and now. She took a step forward and stopped.

  "It's true," she said in a high voice that didn't seem to belong to her. "Nicky and I have been secretly engaged for two months!"

  CHAPTER SIX

  Looking back on the scene with Dawn Meadows, Valerie realized that her first conscious feeling had been one of amazement. Why had Nicky wanted her to lie about the length of his engagement? It was obvious that he and the redhead had had an affair, so surely it would have been better for him to have admitted he had fallen for another girl without realizing it was happening. Yet he had done the exact opposite—made himself out to be a dishonest lover to one girl and a liar to his fiancée.

  Valerie's one desire was to find out the reason for his behavior, but with Dawn still staring at him in helpless rage, he had muttered, "The Festival Hall," and rushed down the corridor to the elevator.

  Left alone with the two girls, Bob had taken charge of the situation by pushing Valerie into the bedroom with the injunction: "You'd better tidy up before coming with me."

  Realizing it was an excuse to get her out of the way, she had remained by t
he dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror but only seeing a pair of bright blue eyes gazing at her with venom.

  A few moments later, or it might have been half an hour later—looking back on it she was never quite sure of the time—Bob had come back to escort her to the concert.

  Only when she was sitting in a box and heard the sound of Nicky's effortless voice did a semblance of feeling return to her. But feeling brought fear, and she forced her mind to blankness again, unaware of the rest of the concert, and only returning to life when she found herself in the suite at the Savoy, being introduced to a crowded room as Nicky Barratt's fiancée.

  After a moment of stunned silence they were bombarded with congratulations, but soon all attention was given to Nicky and Valerie was ignored as if she were not there.

  It was then that she began to reassess the scene with Dawn, and depression weighed so heavily on her that her eyes blurred with tears. She dabbed them surreptitiously with a handkerchief. Not that she need have worried about being noticed; if she stood on her head and screamed no one would even hear her. She was reminded of the first evening she had met Nicky. Then she had been a girl whom Bob had picked up; now she was Nicky's fiancée. Yet the treatment she was receiving was almost identical.

  Slowly her depression turned to anger and she stood up. She might be unfashionable and unsophisticated but that was still no reason for her to be ignored. Above the heads of the crowd she say Nicky's dark one and tried to attract his attention. But he was laughing and joking with some members of the band, and finally she pushed her way over to him.

  "Nicky! I'd like to talk to you."

  He swung around. "There you are, honey. I've been looking all over for you."

  "With your eyes closed?"

  His lids flickered but he reached out and drew her close to his side. 'Excuse me, boys," he drawled, "but my old lady needs some attention."

  There were a few ribald remarks that made Valerie's face burn, but Nicky pretended not to hear them and led her into his bedroom. Only as he closed the door did the smile leave his face.

  "Don't ever talk to me like that again in front of my friends," he stormed.

  "Like what?" she asked coldly.

  "Like you can tell me what to do. Nobody can. Understand that? Nobody."

  She sensed that his extreme anger came not from what she had said but because it had triggered off a reminder of a more painful incident in his past. If only she knew more about that past it might give her a clue as to the person that he was today. Not the taunting, sexually disturbing man who commanded the slavish adoration of numbers of fans—both men and women— but the inner person who needed such adoration, who could brook no orders and seemed unable to relate to anyone except a mass audience.

  "I—I think our—our engagement was a mistake," she choked. "I'm not your kind of girl. I never can be."

  Instantly his arms came around her, pulling her close until her head was against his shoulder.

  "Don't say that," he said fiercely. "You're upset and you don't mean it. It's because of Dawn, isn't it?"

  Dawn! Valerie pulled away from him. There were other things that upset her too, but the redheaded girl was the most important one of them.

  "I—why did you want her to believe we'd been secretly engaged for two months? Why was it necessary to lie to her?"

  "Bob thought it would be better publicity to say I'd had a heck of a job persuading you to marry me."

  "Why?"

  "Because ninety-nine girls out of a hundred would jump at the chance. And for you to hesitate about it would make a better story."

  Valerie's disquiet ebbed slightly. "Was that the only reason?"

  "What other reason could there be?" He came close to her. "You're not jealous of Dawn, are you? You once said my past didn't matter to you."

  "Is she past?"

  "Is she___ Oh Val!" With an incoherent murmur he pressed her body to hers, running his hands down her spine to keep her tightly against him. "You're the only girl in my life now. Don't you know that? I won't pretend there was nothing between Dawn and myself, but it was only for a short time and it was over long ago."

  Valerie burrowed her face into the side of his neck. She wanted to believe Nicky—if she didn't, they could have no future—yet………

  "Hey, there!" he said softly. "You shouldn't get worked up about someone like Dawn," he went on. "Can't you tell what sort of girl she is?"

  "Can't your

  The question took him by surprise, and in the silence she repeated it more forcibly.

  "Sure I knew what kind of girl she was," he said finally. "But she's no different from the rest of the girls who follow me around. That's why I love you. Don't you know that?"

  It was more the answer she wanted, and the hurt and doubt that had gripped her all evening at last released its hold on her.

  "I want to believe it, Nicky, but I still feel so unsure of you… and so unsure of being able to fit in with all your friends————"

  "To hell with my friends! They've got to fit in with you. You're the important one in my life now, and if you don't know it yet, you soon will."

  He went to kiss her but she evaded his mouth, too emotionally worn out to respond to him.

  "Please Nicky, I want to go home. I'm not used to such late nights and I—I have a headache." He looked hesitant, and guessing he did not want to leave his friends, she said, "Don't bother seeing me home. I'll take a taxi."

  "Are you sure you don't mind?"

  "Positive. But how much longer will this party go on? You've had a strenuous evening and—"

  "Don't start bossing me, angel. You're my fiancée, not my wife!"

  She smiled, but as she was driven home she remembered the comment and vowed to be more careful. Nicky was used to having his every whim obeyed. She must never let him think she was trying to give him orders. Yet he mustn't think he could rule her either. She sighed. There was so much they had to learn about each other—so much.

  To Valerie's surprise Nicky telephoned her before ten o'clock the next morning. He sounded happy and lighthearted and made no reference to the previous night.

  "It's a wonderful day," he said, "and my recording session's been put off, so how about getting dressed and I'll call for you in an hour?"

  Agreeing happily, she raced upstairs to change into something suitable. It was a typical autumn day, the sky deeply blue, the leaves on the trees a burnished gold. It would be lovely if Nicky took her into the country but she would go with him wherever he took her. He must never feel she was trying to coerce him into doing anything he did not want.

  Quickly she slipped into a blue denim dress and jacket. It was two years old but it still looked good. Even so she needed to buy some new things. If Nicky was recording tomorrow, she would use the time to go shopping.

  A horn sounded outside and she ran downstairs. Her aunt was coming out of the kitchen.

  "You haven't had your breakfast, Valerie!"

  "No time. I'm going out for the day. Nicky's beeping for me now."

  "Bring him in, dear, while you have a cup of—"

  But Valerie did not wait to hear any more. She knew Nicky did not want to meet her relations and she was determined that on this day in particular they were not going to quarrel over it. Stifling her guilt, she ran down the path.

  "You're always prompt," he said as she slipped into the seat beside him. "I like that in a girl. Mostly they dither in front of the wardrobe for hours."

  "I've nothing to dither over," she laughed. "My choice is too small."

  "Then get a bigger choice." He eyed her swiftly. "You'd look good in floaty things, Val. Go and see Jackie Burns. She does great gear. I buy a lot of my clothes from her too."

  "But she's a dress designer!"

  "She makes my shirts," he grinned. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not the type for dresses." He put his hand on her leg. "Want me to prove it?"

  "I'll take your word for it!" She snuggled closer. "Where are w
e going?"

  "Wait and see."

  Obediently she complied, content to sit beside him as he headed toward Heathrow airport. He was a steady driver and, as always, she was surprised by his courtesy on the road. But this, she knew instinctively, was the innate Nicky, not the brash, self-confident man who could walk on to a stage and dominate an audience that had gone wild with enthusiasm.

  Soon the airport lay behind them and still they headed west, passing Staines and Maidenhead before branching off the main road and making their way along narrow lanes that brought them out to the river. Large and beautiful houses fronted much of it, their gardens running down to the water's edge, where boats were frequently moored. She wondered if they were going to visit some more of his friends and tried not to feel despondent at the idea. What could be nicer than for Nicky to relax in somebody's garden and perhaps swim in the river? Yet if only they could have spent the day alone.

  "Here we are," he said, and with a start she saw he had come to a stop where the road had narrowed into a footpath, and that the footpath led to a small jetty where a gleaming white cabin cruiser was moored.

  "Like it?" he said. "It's mine."

  "Yours? Oh Nicky!" She was out of the car and running across the wooden planks before he could stop her.

  "Hey, wait for me," he called. "I've got to lug this damned basket!"

  She swung around and saw him struggling with a huge hamper. Contritely she rushed to help him.

  "Don't tell me you brought a picnic as well?"

  "What then? You seem to enjoy your food better than my kisses!" He grinned wickedly. "Though I'm hoping that today you might prove me wrong."

  Bubbling with happiness, she grasped an edge of the hamper, though he immediately pushed her hand away and carried it by himself.

  She waited for him to board the cruiser first, though she had to dig into his jacket pocket to find the key that would unlock the cabin door. Stepping inside, she found a beautifully furnished saloon and an excellently equipped galley.

  "Get busy, woman!" Nicky ordered. "I'm hungry"

  "It's fantastic here," she murmured. "I'd no idea you had a place like this."

  "It's a secret." He wiped a napkin across his mouth. "You and Bob are the only two people who know of it."