There was an undercurrent of happiness behind Reid's ruefulness as he said, 'No. I only came fourth. I mustn't have been concentrating or something.'
'You weren't—you weren't hurt?'
His voice was warm, reassuring. 'No, no one was hurt at all. One boat went over, but the driver was OK.'
'I see.' She hesitated and it was almost a physical effort to speak the words that she felt to be a betrayal of the love she held for him. 'All right, Reid. When—when you get home we'll—talk about it.' And she put the phone down before she could possibly hear the jubilation in his voice.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was with a much lighter step that Reid walked into the house in the early evening two days later. Casey was in the kitchen preparing a meal, and he came straight in there to take her in his arms and kiss her hungrily. Casey returned his kiss, she couldn't help it, but there was a hint of reserve in her manner as she stepped away from him. 'I've got flour on my hands; I'll mess up your clothes.'
'Who cares?' Reid laughed, too full of hope to notice. 'What are you making?'
'Boeuf en croute. I found the recipe in one of the cookery books I had as a wedding present so I thought I'd try it.'
'Great.' Reid put his arms round her waist and hugged her tightly. 'How about a drink for the chef?'
He went away to get it and for a moment Casey looked bitterly after him before returning to her task. He was so sure of himself again, so certain that he was already halfway to winning that he looked a different man from the one who had gone away so angrily and dejectedly.
After bringing her drink, Reid went upstairs to unpack, then came to join her, chatting about his trip to America and wanting to know everything she had been doing. If he noticed her reserve he refused to acknowledge it, determinedly acting as if nothing was, or ever had been, wrong. The beef turned out OK, which was a relief as Casey had never attempted it before, and Reid was loud in his praise. He seemed happy, as he had been while they were engaged. And somehow to see him happy when she wasn't made her own hurt worse, as if he was being happy at her expense.
She pushed her plate away, the food hardly touched.
'Aren't you hungry?'
'No. Somehow cooking things yourself takes the edge off it.'
After dinner they went into the sitting-room and Reid showed her all the presents he had brought her back from the States: perfume, table napkins, a most unusual photograph frame he had found in an antique shop, and a beautiful silk blouse. She should have revelled in the presents, but Casey could only smile and thank him politely, unable to feel whole-hearted about anything any more. They watched televison and at eleven-thirty went up to bed, Reid making no move to stop her when she went into the spare bedroom.
The following day was Friday, and when Casey got home from the warehouse she found that Reid had everything worked out. She could tell that he was excited about something, although he did his best to suppress it, and he was far too experienced just to blurt out what was on his mind. But it didn't take a lot of guessing and Casey showed no surprise when, after they had eaten, Reid suggested a walk to the local pub, and on the way he told her that he had fixed up to take her into Norfolk on Sunday morning to see a demonstration of the latest safety devices. 'And as it's so near to your home I thought we might go on there afterwards to see how Mark's getting along,' he added as a further inducement.
Casey didn't answer, so after a moment, Reid said persuasively, 'You did say you were willing to talk about it, darling, so I thought I'd fix this up so that you'd know exactly what I was trying to explain to you.'
'Yes, all right,' she agreed dully, dispirited by his eagerness.
But having gained so much, Reid wasn't to be put down by her lack of enthusiasm, and exerted himself to charm her back into a good mood. Eventually he had her laughing again so that, on the surface, it was almost like old times. On Saturday he kept her busy, taking her shopping in London and to a show in the evening so that Casey had no time at all to think. Except when she was alone at night. Then he couldn't stop her from feeling that she was being cowardly, that she was allowing herself to be persuaded into letting her body rule her heart and mind.
They set out at eight o'clock the next morning, stopping for coffee on the way, and arrived by ten-thirty at the Norfolk factory where the Kevlar safety-cells had been invented. The people there greeted Reid like an old friend, but also with a great deal of respect and admiration, and seemed not to mind in the least giving up their Sunday morning for him. Reid introduced her to everyone and, although they were friendly enough on the surface, to Casey, her senses made acute through continual nervous tension, it was obvious that there was reserve underneath. If they hadn't actually been told then they definitely guessed why Reid had brought her, and they were secretly rather scornful of her fears, but willing to do their best to help Reid rather than her.
So they explained everything in great detail while Casey listened politely and watched as they demonstrated the toughness of the safety-cell by dropping heavy weights on it that didn't even dent it. They even got someone to take a boat out and turn it over so that she could see how, when it sank, the flotation chambers brought the nose and the driver's seat up so that he couldn't drown even if he was knocked unconscious. When they had finished they all looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to admit that she had been a fool, but Casey merely smiled and thanked them politely, leaving Reid to say his goodbyes and follow her to the car.
'Do you mind if I drive?' she asked him.
'No, of course not. I'll navigate.'
Reid only spoke to direct her until they came to a straight open road and then he could contain his impatience no longer. 'Well? What did you think?' he demanded eagerly.
'I think the men there wanted you to go on racing as much as you want to,' she answered obliquely.
Some of the eagerness in Reid's face faded. 'So?'
'So, because of that, and because they invented the safety-cell, maybe they were biased in its favour.' She gave him a quick glance. 'Don't you agree that might be so?'
His jaw tightened. 'I suppose that means you didn't believe a word they said? That it's all been a waste of time?'
'No, I didn't mean that.' Striving to keep her voice calm and even, Casey said, 'It all sounds OK—in theory.'
'And in practice,' Reid said urgently, leaning towards her. 'Believe me, darling. It's been tried and tested, dozens of times. Nearly every Formula One boat in racing has been fitted with them and no one who has used one has been badly hurt.
'All right! You've told me before,' Casey broke in sharply. 'And now I've seen them I'm willing to accept that they are very good, but I…'
'Casey! For God's sake, stop this car,' Reid said fiercely.
Startled, she hurriedly obeyed him. 'What is it?'
His face alight, Reid undid his safety-strap and reached out to take her hands. 'Darling, do you mean that you're really convinced at last? That we can ..
'No!' Casey cut in hastily. 'I only said in theory. I haven't…' She paused, biting her lip. Reid's face had fallen and he waited tensely for her to go on. With a sigh, Casey said, 'When is your next race?'
His eyes studied her face. 'My next race?'
'Yes.'
'In about ten days' time.'
'All right, then. Wherever it is, I'll come and watch it. I'll—I'll see for myself.'
With a rather rueful grin Reid raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. 'Well, it's a long way from what I'd hoped, but compared to what we've been going through this last few weeks it's a hell of a step forward. Thank you, sweetheart. I promise you you won't regret it.'
Casey wasn't at all sure about that, but said, 'Where is your next race? When will we have to leave?'
Reid laughed, sounding happier than he had for weeks. 'We won't. The next race is here in England. At the Victoria Docks in London. So I'm afraid you don't get to go abroad, after all—unless you'd like to, that is. We can always…'
'No! No, I don'
t want another—holiday.'
Reaching out, Reid gently smoothed her hair, his eyes on her troubled face. 'My poor darling, you're still far from happy, aren't you? But you will be—and soon. I swear you will be.' And leaning forward, he put his hands on either side of her head to kiss her. It was a long, deep kiss, the type that you can lose yourself in, drown in until everything else is forgotten. Casey emerged from it feeling like a James Bond drink: shaken but not stirred. She managed to smile at him, but immediately started the car again and drove on.
They spent a few hours with her family, finding Mark hopping around on crutches and terribly impatient to get back to racing, wanting to talk to Reid about nothing else. It would have been pleasant but for that, and after a couple of hours of it Casey felt as if she wanted to scream, and abruptly walked out of the room.
For a while it was almost a relief to get home, but when they were going up to bed Reid paused on the landing to take her in his arms and kiss her goodnight. It was a kiss that deepened into passion, his hands moving over her. It reminded Casey of the kisses he had given her when they had been engaged, when they had agreed to wait but knew they were going to go to bed together soon. His hands and lips were sure again, possessive, seeking to dominate her into submission.
With a cry Casey tore herself away from him, pushing at his chest with her hands. 'No, please!'
'But sweetheart, surely we can at least go to bed together now? I won't make you do anything you don't want, but we can hold each other and kiss and—and at least show each other that we're in love.'
'No!' Casey said again vehemently. 'I'm sorry, but I—I can't.'
Reid's mouth twisted sarcastically. 'I see. You're determined to carry this through to the bitter end. And something tells me that it will be bitter—not sweet as it should have been.' He looked at her broodingly. 'Sometimes I wonder if we're ever going to be able to forget this, Casey. Whether we'll ever really be able to put it completely out of our minds.'
That felt like a knife piercing her heart and Casey couldn't take it so she took refuge in flippancy, saying, 'What does it matter? It'll all be the same in a hundred years.'
Reid's face darkened. 'That is an extremely stupid and childish remark,' he said shortly, and turning on his heel went into his room.
He just didn't understand. He thought that she was coming round to his viewpoint, and in a way Casey supposed she was. But only in her mind, because logic was persuading her to do so. In her heart she knew that she would always be afraid for him.
As she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, Casey realised that she was hurtling down to a major crossroads in her life. And the road she would take would be decided during Reid's race next week. The easy way, of course, would be to give in, to yield to Reid's persuasion and the overwhelming desires of her own body. But always afterwards, she knew in her subconscious, the reserve that was growing in her would be between them. She would build up a shell to protect herself so that the pain wouldn't be so bad if ever he was hurt. And what kind of a marriage would that be? And then there was the other alternative; if she went on saying no. But Casey's mind still shied away from that one, too afraid to follow it through to its logical conclusion.
Reid, in his glowing optimism, was unaware of the internal barriers that Casey was putting up to protect herself when the time came. Either way, she was going to need them. But she tried desperately to conceal her feelings and succeeded so well that that week was one of the happiest they had ever spent together, not as lovers but as loving friends. Sure in his own mind that he only had that week to wait, Reid managed to control his impatience most of the time, although when they were close like this frustration sometimes threatened to drive him crazy. Then he would groan and hold her very close as if holding her like that could assuage the deep ache in his loins.
He went to London a day ahead of her to prepare for the race, but gave her detailed instructions on how to get there and where to go. 'You will come?' he said anxiously as he was about to leave. 'You'll keep your promise?'
'Yes,' Casey agreed, but there was no warmth in her lips as she kissed him goodbye.
She didn't eat that day, just as she had hardly eaten for the whole week, her stomach tied in tight knots of tension that made food indigestible. By five the next morning she couldn't stay in bed any longer and got up, putting heavy make-up on to disguise the dark circles round her eyes, and dressing carefully in new pale pink jeans and matching jacket, trying to look her best so that Reid would be proud of her.
Casey wasn't used to driving round London's busy one-way streets, but Reid had mapped out the journey very carefully for her and she arrived at the docks a good hour ahead of time, parking in the space that Reid had reserved for her alongside the pits. She sat there for quite a while, thinking back to when they met and nerving herself to get out of the car. Reid had told her to go straight to the pits where he would be waiting, but Casey walked, with the crowds of people who were arriving, towards the race area. She hadn't quite known what to expect, but certainly not this enclosed piece of water between high concrete banks with tiers of seats like grandstands on either side. To her heightened senses it seemed like a giant-sized Roman arena and she wondered with cynical bitterness if that was what the crowds had come in search of: spectacular crashes and blood rather than a contest of skill.
There were marker buoys around the course, and at each end was a boat with a big red cross painted on the roof and sides. Casey saw them and turned blindly away, bumping into people in her hurry.
There was a stall selling drink and Casey bought herself a double brandy, standing there in the sun until she had some control over her shivering body again. Only then did she follow Reid's instructions and go to the pits to find him. He was looking out for her anxiously, worried that she wouldn't come, his frown clearing magically when he caught sight of her. He came hurrying over and put his arm round her waist, 'What happened to you? I was getting worried.'
'There was so much traffic; it took me longer than I thought,' Casey lied.
He was wearing an overall with 'LOMAX POWERBOATS' written on the back and on the flap of the pocket. He was about to lead her away when some fans, who shouldn't really have been there, rushed up and asked him for his autograph, firing questions and wishes of good luck at him. An official came over and shooed the fans away and Reid was able to take her into his pit and introduce her to his racing team. She had met some of them before at his factory where he was just the boss, but today he had a different status, the team fussing around him and the boat as if they were gods. The boat sat like a crouched animal on the water, just waiting for Reid's touch for it to spring into life, its engine the biggest outboard motor Casey had ever seen. It exuded streamlined power and she had no difficulty in believing that it could get up to a hundred and fifty miles an hour and accelerate faster than a Formula One racing car, as one of the team told her in excited pride, until he caught Reid's frown and took himself off.
'Quite a few of my customers are here today,' Reid told her. 'I've reserved you a seat with them.' He grinned, completely happy now that she was there, a current of excitement running through him at the thought of the race ahead when he would be the favourite contestant in his own country. 'I expect they're having a bit of a party. Would you like to go up and join them?'
Casey shook her head. 'No, I'd rather stay here for a while, if I'm not in the way.'
'You're never in the way,' he assured her with a kiss. Somebody called him and he raised a hand in acknowledgement. 'I have to get ready. Wish me luck?'
'Oh, yes.' She hugged him fiercely, not wanting to let him go, so that he had to take her arms from round his neck.
'I'll be all right,' he assured her. 'You'll see, darling. Trust me'
She nodded, her face white, and watched as he put on a life-jacket and an open-fronted crash-helmet. Then he climbed into the cockpit of the boat and did up the safety- harness. Reid turned to grin and give her a thumbs-up sign before the huge, brain-burstin
gly noisy engine sprang into life. She watched as Reid took the boat out on to the water for a couple of warm-up laps, and was just turning to go and find her seat when a girl from the next- door pit who had been watching her came over. 'Hi,' she said in a strong North American accent. 'Are you Reid's new wife?'
'Yes, that's right.'
'Well, we were all wondering when you'd finally show up at a race. Don't you like travelling or something?'
'We?' Casey asked, avoiding the question.
'All the wives and girlfriends. We all get to know one another from following our men around the Grand Prix circuit.'
'Oh, I see.'
She went to move on, but the girl said curiously, 'Is this your first race?'
'Yes. Yes, it is.'
'Well, say, why don't you come sit with me? My name's Jan Greenburg.'
'Thank you,' Casey agreed, much preferring to sit through the race with another woman. 'Mine's Casey.' She followed the other girl to some seats just above the pits. 'Is your husband taking part?'
Jan's bright face darkened. 'No, he crashed at the end of last year and he's still hospitalised back home.'
'He crashed?' Casey stared at her in horror.
'Yes, but he was lucky. At least he didn't get killed. Four Formula One pilots were killed in five Grand Prix races a couple of seasons ago. One of them drowned and that's why they wear open helmets now; it takes eight seconds for a visor to empty of water and the driver drowned before they could get to him.' She paused, then added, 'A Formula One motor racing driver tried it once and described it as like racing a car across a ploughed field at full speed.'
Casey's stomach muscles tightened in terror and she looked out over the circuit to where the twenty brightly coloured power-boats were doing their warm-up laps, the crowds of people in the full, sunlit grandstands already shouting encouragement.
'I hate leaving Jeff in hospital,' Jan was saying, 'but I act as secretary to our racing team, and we could do with the money.'
Ultimatum Page 14
