The Tender Flame

by Anne Saunders

  ‘When I’ve got my strength back, I’ll retaliate. The days of the dictator boss have gone.’

  She was laughing; he wasn’t.

  ‘When you’re strong enough to retaliate, you won’t be here.’

  ‘What do you mean, I won’t be here?’

  The look in his eye told her he wasn’t hoodwinked by her pretend non-comprehension. His tone was dry with exasperation. ‘The moment you’re fit enough to travel, I’m sending you back home. I gave you your marching orders before you became ill. Had you forgotten?’

  ‘No,’ she replied with dignity and truth, plus a controlled spurt of anger. ‘I hadn’t forgotten. I was hoping you had though.’ She didn’t add ‘for Stephanie’s sake,’ but her eyes glanced to where the child was playing with childlike lack of concern. She didn’t look up from the all-important task of making a neckerchief for Tatty Bear out of her handkerchief. Children can be very cruel at times. She consoled herself with the thought that Stephanie hadn’t properly understood that she was being sent home. It couldn’t be because she didn’t care.

  Somebody cared. Linda cared.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too hasty if I were you, David. Think twice before you decide that you can cope on your own.’

  ‘I’ve no intention of coping on my own.’

  ‘You weren’t counting on me?’

  ‘No. I’m on the look-out for a woman. Someone mature and sensible.’

  ‘That’s all right then. And now I’m going to phone Hugh to tell him that I’m on my way home.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Dear boy, you look surprised.’

  ‘I am. I didn’t think you’d be rushing off in such a hurry. I thought you might stay long enough to tide me over . . .’ He frowned. ‘Can we talk this over in private?’

  ‘Certainly. But you won’t change my mind.’

  The private conversation was not related to Jan, but not long after it took place, Linda draped her car coat over her suitcase, and sought Jan out to say goodbye.

  ‘You are doing it on purpose, aren’t you, Linda?’

  ‘What do you mean? I told you that now you’d perked up I was going home.’

  ‘You said you were thinking about it, which implied soon, tomorrow or the next day. It wasn’t a decision of desperate urgency. You’re shooting off at a moment’s notice because you think if David is left to cope while I’m still wobbly on my feet, it will give him a taste of what looking after Stephanie is all about, and that he might change his mind and let me stay.’

  ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself,’ Linda admitted on a little laugh.

  ‘Thank you, anyway, for the kind thought.’

  ‘Kind, but not very bright? You’re right, of course. If David has made up his mind to send you home, neither my tongue nor my absence will make him change it. You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you? I haven’t been able to influence him about the other matter, and goodness knows I’ve tried. Oh, he does infuriate me!’ She stopped, but only to draw breath and not to chain her tongue. ‘With a name like his, you’d think he’d stone to death the Goliath of Local Opinion that’s damning him.’

  It always came back to that.

  ‘Perhaps he hasn’t the right stone,’ Jan said carefully, knowing it would seem that she was siding with local opinion. As indeed she was. She had condemned him along with everyone else.

  Linda gave an impassioned gasp. ‘But he has!’

  ‘If it’s a misconception, if that’s what you’re hinting at, then why doesn’t he throw that stone and shatter it?’

  ‘Because stones have a habit of reverberating. This one definitely would. The most innocent party would get hurt.’

  What could Linda mean? The most innocent party was Stephanie. If, somehow, David had the means to justify his actions, how could that harm his daughter? Surely it would be to her benefit to have a father who was accepted by the local community?

  ‘I’ve said more than I should already. Please don’t ask me to explain,’ Linda beseeched. ‘Goodbye, love. Don’t overdo things at first.’

  ‘I won’t. Goodbye, Linda. Safe journey. And thank you for coming to look after me. I’m very grateful.’

  ‘Bless you for being so sweet. I’ll give you a tinkle to let you know I’ve arrived safe. ’Bye.’

  * * *

  Stephanie was in bed. The effort of getting up had taken its toll more than Jan was prepared to admit, and she didn’t intend to be long behind her. She replaced the telephone receiver after taking Linda’s promised call, a thoughtful expression on her face. Not because of something Linda had just said, that conversation had been the usual light inconsequential telephone talk, but because her mind had reverted to Linda’s earlier words when she had strongly hinted that David wasn’t the villain people made out. She was too tired to puzzle it out now. She would think about it tomorrow.

  * * *

  She thought about it tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, at the supper table, she was still thinking about it.

  ‘Is your indifference passing unfavourable judgement on what is definitely one of my better culinary efforts?’

  ‘No.’ She picked up her knife and fork and resumed eating. ‘It’s delicious. I feel a terrible fraud letting you do everything. Can I take over again tomorrow, please? I’m quite well now.’

  These last three days had given her a glimpse of the David whom Linda knew and loved. Back to the puzzle. It would have been better if Linda hadn’t said anything, rather than pique her curiosity in this frustrating way.

  If there was something that David could say . . . She wasn’t aware of it but her chin gave an involuntary little shake. No. She must keep quiet. She mustn’t interfere. But . . .

  The ‘but’ was stronger insistence than she could bear. ‘David?’

  ‘Yes?’

  His voice was too sharp for comfort. She didn’t know that he had been quietly surveying the conflict of emotions disturbing the serenity of her features.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said backing down. ‘It’s none of my business.’

  ‘Good. Let’s keep it that way.’

  The temperament of Grandmother Ashton in her rose to the surface at the taunt in his voice. The above-the-table lamp glanced across her hair as her chin tilted, bringing the red highlights into play. The tranquil green left her eyes and the storm-warning brown bounced with points of angry light.

  ‘It’s not good enough. Don’t you see, you are damning yourself by your own silence. If you don’t talk you won’t be able to live here in peace and comfort, and no matter where you move it will be the same, because the gossip and the whispering behind your back will follow you. You’ve got to speak up to shut them up.’

  ‘How did you find out?’ he said in such an ominously quiet voice that all the fire in her turned to ice. Except that ice doesn’t feel, and even in fear of him she was still quivering with emotion. ‘What a nice person you are,’ he mocked, the tone of his voice an insult. ‘An indiscriminate gossip, and a snoop! You must have rifled the desk and pried into papers that are no concern of yours.’

  In her entire twenty years, Jan had never knowingly pried into affairs that were none of her business. She had only encountered the Sheraton desk to dust it and slide the unpaid bills waiting for David’s attention into a small drawer that was separate from the main part of the cylinder-top desk. The key that operated the roll-back front sat permanently in its lock, but Jan had never been tempted to turn it. How could David make such an accusation?

  ‘No!’ she said in vehement denial.

  His eyes narrowed. His anger matched her own. ‘Don’t add lies to your other transgressions. How else could you know?’

  She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. After all she couldn’t defend herself. She couldn’t say that she didn’t really know anything, but she’d gleaned from the little Linda had told her that it wasn’t all as it seemed. She couldn’t implicate Linda.

  She blinked her eyelids to seal in the tears that wer
e two parts vexation and one part of something that was beyond analysis.

  ‘You’ve got to speak up,’ she said through wretchedly stiff lips. ‘For Stephanie’s sake.’

  ‘For . . . ?’ He threw back his head and—damn him—he laughed! Laughed! ‘That was a near thing. Thinking you knew, I could well have let something slip. But you don’t know.’

  ‘No, I don’t know,’ she shouted back at him.

  He put his finger under her chin, and it stayed there until she obeyed its command and looked into his eyes. ‘But you are a proper Jan Pry. You’re going to ferret and probe until you find out, aren’t you, my inquisitive little friend?’

  ‘Not out of morbid curiosity. I only want what is best for Stephanie.’

  ‘Will you believe that so do I? You mean well, but you could unwittingly harm Stephanie. I can’t let you. You’ve got to go, Jan. I daren’t risk the consequences of your staying.’

  ‘I won’t go,’ she said stupidly, recklessly.

  ‘Don’t be silly. If I say you’re going, you’ll go.’

  ‘Not of my own free will. Not while Stephanie needs me. You’ll have to evict me by force.’

  ‘That sort of talk won’t get you anywhere with me. I don’t give in to emotional blackmail and tantrums are best left to children who don’t know any better.’ His fingers once again reached out to secure her chin. ‘How old did you say you were?’

  When he’d first asked her that she’d added a few years on to impress him she was mature enough for the task of looking after Stephanie. She’d forgotten just how many. ‘Twenty-four,’ she said not very convincingly.

  His face came closer. ‘Old enough,’ he said. His eyes flicked away from hers and feasted themselves on the slender but gently curved womanliness of her body. Slowly, slumbrously almost, his gloating, mocking, wicked gaze returned to her face. His eyes were dark brown seduction, so near that she had no leeway to shore up her collapsing defences.

  ‘Little Jan. You say you are a woman, but you have the guileless look of a child. And a temper that is childlike. Temper is but a passionate outburst. The child stamps her foot; the woman has better uses for her passions. Let us find out if you are the woman you claim to be.’

  Even as her heart lurched at the look in his eye, it didn’t occur to her to resist the arms closing round her. Her neck curved back in a gesture of abandon as her body complied in melting obedience to his will.

  His kiss was the pure flame. The fierce brutal heat, the flicker of tenderness in its molten core. It carried her along with its irresistible force, and it lit something in her heart that would never die.

  He whispered huskily: ‘It has been demonstrably proved that you are a woman.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘Warm, desirable. You could be a lot of fun.’

  Fun! Her breath caught between surprise and outrage. When she looked at him she saw that his head was back and he was laughing.

  ‘Has it got through to you now, my fanciable little peach, that I could chase you out faster than if you had a whirlwind at your heels.’

  It wasn’t the whirlwind at her heels that bothered her, but the fire in her breast. Her head tilted in magnificent defiance, and he must never know at what cost.

  ‘That was a vile trick to play. You are detestable, despicable and utterly contemptible. A sadist without morals or human caring. I was right about you first time. You’re a monster, cruel, heartless . . .’ And on it went. She ran out of breath and words simultaneously, and then her eyes more than made up for the incapacity of her tongue.

  She felt degraded and humiliated. No matter what tender act he put on in the future, she would never trust him again.

  ‘I’m going to my room now. You can go to the devil.’

  ‘That will probably be my fate.’

  The laughter quietened in his eyes. Was this another bit of diabolical trickery, a continuation of the drive-Jan-out campaign, or did he really feel as bemused as he looked? He seemed to have forgotten the name of the game, as if, for a brief moment, control of the situation had slipped out of his masterful grip.

  ‘Sleep well,’ he said quite kindly. ‘You’re perfectly safe.’

  ‘I never thought otherwise,’ she tossed back at him haughtily. ‘While I’m under your roof, I’m under your protection.’

  The gleam was back in evidence. ‘In that case, I can only hope your faith in me is justified,’ he taunted darkly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  While she was ill, a temporary truce had been called. Now that she was better, it was war again. He went back to being Awesome Mouth, an implacable stranger who wouldn’t listen to her appeal to be allowed to stay for Stephanie’s sake, and took every opportunity to treat her like a child. If, sometimes, the mask slipped and he looked at her as though she were a woman, he soon got it back in place again. Her own awareness of him as a man was dealt with just as efficiently.

  She had always prided herself on being a resolute person of firm character with a set pattern of beliefs to subscribe to. There was an inseparable link between loving and liking. She couldn’t like someone as domineering and as unreasonable as David. She couldn’t love someone she didn’t like. So where was the problem?

  She told herself she was infatuated with the novelty of him. She had never met a man like him before, and she’d never meet the likes of him again, she thought wistfully. She was at it again, cluttering up the issue with her petty feelings, when it was Stephanie who mattered.

  ‘You’re not going to let me stay, are you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘When I’ve gone, who’s going to look after Stephanie?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Don’t you have a job to follow?’

  ‘I do. I also have a considerable amount of leave due to me. I’m taking it now. When the time comes for me to resume work, I should have got Stephanie sorted out, and I shall leave her in the care of a sensible, mature woman. Right now, she needs a man’s hand. You’ve ruined her.’

  No other accusation could have locked her tongue so effectively. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t ruined Stephanie. It was Annabel’s spoiling that had made Stephanie the unmanageable child she was. But who could blame Annabel for doting on the little girl and cramming a lifetime of spoiling into four years?

  She glared at him, as if she could compel him to her way of thinking by force of will.

  He laughed. ‘I’ll allow no female to be my master. My mistress, perhaps.’

  ‘I’m not applying for that job.’

  ‘You’d get short shrift if you were. Take my advice. Go home to your mother, little girl, and do some growing up.’

  * * *

  He backed his advice with a rail ticket. She took Stephanie to play-school one morning, and knew she couldn’t be there to fetch her home. She would be—if David didn’t change his mind, and he didn’t, and so she was—on a train glancing the miles away.

  As she neared home, familiar landmarks came into view. One particular landmark which she always looked out for was a huge hoarding advertising a popular brand of paint. Whenever she saw it, she knew she was home. She saw it now, but without exultation. The warm surge of pleasure she would have felt a few weeks ago was completely lacking.

  Mr. Hymes, the friendly ticket collector, was the first of many to recognise her and greet her warmly. ‘Hello, Jan. Good to see you again.’ As she replied she hoped the moistness in her eyes would be put down to homecoming nostalgia. It would be a joy to see her parents. She hadn’t phoned to tell them she was coming, because up to the last minute she had hoped that David would change his mind. Anyway, you don’t have to be formal with parents. What a surprise they would get.

  The surprise was on her. The first clue was the quietness of the house as she let herself in. Her mother always worked with the radio on. She had even been known to take her small transistor into the garden with her to help along her unfavourite task of weeding. Thinking her mother had stepped out to the shops, Jan put the kettle on and went to raid the fridge. No mil
k. Odd.

  Perhaps her mother had realised she was out of milk and had gone to get some. But this thought didn’t seem to have a lot of weight to it. In contrast the feeling she had was heavy enough to merit investigation. Upstairs, a count of suitcases told her the worst. One was missing. The medium sized one used for weekending and visits of up to a week’s duration.

  She went to bed with only the creakings of the old house for company.

  Next day was no better. Without a mother in it, the house she had known since childhood wasn’t a home. Home was a Yorkshire village, two hundred miles away. Was Stephanie missing her? Had she kicked up a fuss when Jan hadn’t been there to meet her yesterday tea-time?

  She tried not to think about Stephanie and considered her own plight. She ought to think about getting a job. Because of David’s generosity, he’d paid her up to date and added a most handsome bonus because he said her devoted care of Annabel had been over and above the line of duty, it wasn’t what you might call a vital issue.

  Thoughts of Annabel had resurrected her ghost in her mind. Not a spooky ghost, but a ghost with a bright, devil-may-care, admonishing smile. ‘Shame on you,’ it chided. Annabel wouldn’t have moped. She would have taken a long, self-indulgent look at the situation and said with a defiant and spirited lift of her chin, ‘But this isn’t helping me.’ Proud and self-willed, impetuous and fearless to the point of recklessness, she had maintained an envious way of looking at things. Of her own predicament she had said, ‘Yesterday wasn’t too good. Today will be better.’

  David might have walked out on her, but he hadn’t found anybody with enough sparkle to replace her.

  It was as if Annabel had put a finger to her chin and made her look at the situation squarely. It was all a bit mixed up in her mind, but her thoughts seemed to be following a direction that was not of her pointing, and certainly not to her liking. How could David find comfort or excitement or anything with her, after Annabel?

  She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand, rather as a child might have done. The smile that nobody was there to see was a bit wobbly as she turned her attention to practical things. Her mother kept a well-stocked freezer, but if she wanted fresh milk, cheese, eggs and fruit, she would have to make a trip to the supermarket.