by Lilian Peake
Back in the village they returned to the low-beamed restaurant and Jamie, his appetite sharpened by the hours in the open air, ate an enormous tea.
‘Well,’ said Craig, as they drove back to the school, ‘do you think your cure for this little boy’s insomnia has worked?’
‘I hope so,’ Shelley said. ‘When I made the suggestion, I never dreamed you’d take me up on it.’
Craig looked into the driving mirror at the back seat passenger and asked, ‘Happy, Jamie?’ Jamie nodded energetically. ‘Well,’ Craig murmured to Shelley, ‘you’ve achieved something—brought a glow to his face instead of tears.’
Jamie climbed the steps back into the school between Shelley and Craig, clinging to their hands. Before he left them, Shelley bent down and hugged him.
‘My word,’ Craig said softly, ‘Jamie’s achieved something, too. He’s put a match to the iceberg and melted an area, even though it is only the size of an ice cube. Make the most of it, Jamie,’ he whispered, ‘in a few moments her responses will have solidified!’
Shelley lifted reproachful eyes to the speaker, who shivered and commented, ‘I told you so, Jamie. It didn’t last. She’s frozen hard again!’
Jamie laughed, although he did not really know why, and ran off with a wave. As he disappeared, so did Craig’s bantering manner. He consulted his watch. ‘Too late now for work.’ He looked at her consideringly. ‘Would you be willing to come back this evening and tackle the work we left undone this afternoon?’
Shelley felt a stab of guilt. ‘I promised Emery—’
‘Leave it,’ Craig said abruptly, ‘forget I asked you. Go out with your boy-friend. I’ll work alone.’
‘I could put him off.’
‘Don’t even consider it. A girl whose self-esteem has been so damaged by rejection as yours has needs a man in her life for therapeutic reasons, if nothing else.’
‘He’s not the “man in my life.” I haven’t got one. We’re friends, no more. I don’t love him and never will.’
‘If I may say so, your outburst sounds a little immature and childish.’
‘Go on,’ she challenged, stung by his criticism, ‘say you don’t blame Michael Townley for deserting me at the last minute, that he had a lucky escape.’
He looked her over and there was disparagement in his eyes. ‘You might well be right. You’re so sour and embittered, I’m beginning to come round to the view that your appeal to the opposite sex has vanished beyond recall.’
CHAPTER SIX
Emery visited Shelley that evening. They went for a walk, but it began to rain, so they turned back and made for the lodge. Janine chatted to them for a while, but commented with a broad smile on Emery’s restlessness.
‘I’ll be a tactful little sister and find myself something to do. I’ve brought a wig home from the shop to practise on.’ When they were alone, Emery pulled Shelley close and kissed her. With a feeling of dread, she began to recognise masculine desire and impatience, and knew that she would either have to reject it once and for all, or come to terms with it. She had vowed never to become involved with a man again, except on the basis of friendship. But she was beginning to realise the impossibility of making any man understand that friendship was all she could ever offer.
Craig had said she needed the attentions of a man to restore her self-respect. Perhaps he was right, she thought, allowing Emery to push her back against the cushions, perhaps a man’s kisses, uninhibited and passionate, could melt the ice which, ever since Michael’s desertion, had encased her emotions. Perhaps Emery, by kissing her like this, could rekindle the warmth inside her and make her attractive again to men, to Craig...
The living-room door opened. The man in Shelley’s mind stood there, watching them. Emery lifted himself upright with a great show of reluctance. Shelley felt her body throbbing with humiliation and embarrassment. How could Craig have walked in like that, as though he owned the place—which, in fact, he did, a small voice reminded her.
‘Craig!’ Janine was racing down the stairs. ‘I saw your car. You told me you were busy tonight.’
‘I was,’ said Craig, his eyes resting narrowly on the flushed, dishevelled girl on the settee, ‘but I found it impossible to work efficiently without secretarial help.’
Shelley stood uncertainly, pushing back her hair which Emery had loosened. ‘I offered to break my date,’ she said, trying desperately to regain some of her lost dignity.
Craig replied coolly, ‘I never was one to deprive other people of their—pleasures.’
His cold condemnation of her behaviour had her feeling ashamed and indignant at the same time. ‘You recommended a man in my life’ she wanted to tell him, ‘a man to make me less bitter and repelling. Yet when I take your advice, you don’t like it.’
‘Get your coat, Jan,’ Craig said, over his shoulder. ‘I’ll take you out.’
She was up the stairs in a few moments. Emery picked up his tie, which earlier he had thrown down, and began to put it on.
‘No need,’ Craig said to him curtly, ‘we’ll be gone in a few minutes. Then you can continue from where you left off.’
Emery shrugged, sat back and waited. Craig walked to the window and stared out at the massive black rain clouds which were darkening the twilight into premature night.
‘I said I’d work,’ Shelley addressed the broad, rigid back. ‘If you’d lifted the receiver and rung me—’
He swung round. ‘Let the subject drop. You’ve every right to refuse to work in the evenings. It’s your leisure time and what you do with it is your concern entirely.’ He resumed his examination of the outside world.
‘But—’ Did she have to go on trying to clear herself?
Emery caught her hand and pulled her down beside him. ‘Pack it in, Shelley.’ His arm, which was round her, shook her gently. ‘You’re not obliged to work overtime.’
‘But we did no work this afternoon, so I really should have—’
Craig turned again and his quelling look bore into her and silenced her more effectively than Emery’s hand which had lifted to cover her mouth.
‘Let it go, Shelley,’ Emery said, kissing her lightly. ‘I’m the one in luck, aren’t I? I’ve got your company. His loss,’ nodding towards the man who was looking at Shelley with near-contempt, ‘is my gain.’ He whispered loudly in her ear, ‘When they’ve gone, we’ll have the house to ourselves.’
Janine raced down the stairs. ‘Come on, Craig. Let’s leave the loving couple to enjoy each other’s company. After all,’ she looked impishly into his face, ‘you aren’t always restrained and gentlemanly when we’re together, are you?’
With an odd look of triumph at her sister, Janine swept out, leaving Craig to close the door. As the car drove away, Shelley sat, sickened and empty, resisting Emery’s attempts to persuade her to respond to his kisses, and imagining Janine in the arms of the man she, Shelley, loved.
Shelley lay in bed, on the edge of sleep. Janine was home and was probably asleep, too. The doorbell shattered the night’s silence, bringing Shelley’s eyes open in the darkness and a pounding to her heart. She switched on the bedside lamp, pulled her wrap around her and found her mules.
As she crept down the stairs, the bell rang again, a short, sharp burst. The door was solid wood and she wished with all her heart that she could keep its solidity between her and whoever was on the other side.
There was a shout and the voice was one Shelley heard with relief, a flick of pleasure and just a little fear. ‘Shelley! Are you there?’
The bolts slid across, the door creaked open. Craig, dressed as though the thought of going to bed had not occurred to him, said, ‘Sorry to disturb you, but we’re having trouble with Jamie.’ He looked at her ruffled hair, her wrap, her slippered feet. ‘Could you get into something warm and come with me? He keeps asking for you.’
‘Me?’ she asked dazedly. ‘But why me?’
He smiled sardonically. ‘It beats me why, but you seem to have made quite an im
pression. The opposite sex are falling around your feet and all you do is scorn them.’ Sarcasm, she thought miserably, even at this time of night.
‘May I come in and wait while to get ready?’ He stepped into the hall. ‘In the circumstances, I’ll overlook your lack of welcome.’
She felt the warmth tingle in her cheeks, chasing the fright and fatigue from them. ‘I’m sorry, but you gave me a shock. I was drifting into sleep.’
With a cynical smile he glanced up the stairs.
‘There’s no need to look like that,’ she said furiously. ‘Emery went home hours ago.’
‘Don’t shout,’ Craig said coolly. ‘You’ll wake your baby sister.’
Shelley swung round and ran up the stairs, pulling off her wrap. A chunky-knit jacket was buttoned over her nightdress in a matter of seconds, warm clinging pants were pulled on, sandals slipped on to her bare feet. She ran a comb through her tangled hair, started to fasten it back but abandoned the attempt and left it loose about her shoulders.
As she ran down the stairs, Craig glanced at his watch. ‘Three minutes—must be a record. I’ve brought the car for speed. Walking along the drive would take too long.’
A few minutes later they climbed side by side up the steps and into the house. Fatigued and still a little dazed, Shelley stumbled and Craig’s arm came out to steady her, leading her into the office.
‘Jamie hasn’t slept since he was put to bed,’ Craig told her. ‘Matron swears it was my fault for taking him out this afternoon and getting him too excited. I disagreed and we had a minor quarrel. I said the trouble was there before that. At which point she took offence, saying was I casting doubts on her efficiency and ability to do the job she was paid for?’
‘She’ll leave,’ Shelley warned. ‘She doesn’t like anyone, even your mother, to question her authority.’
‘All right, so she leaves. I shall appoint the next matron, and I’ll make sure it’s a woman with more humanity in her, even if her string of qualifications is only half those of the present matron.’ He glanced down at Shelley. ‘I called you a she-dragon when I first knew you, but you’re like a harmless little pet beside her, for all your abrasive and off-putting ways.’
‘Thanks for nothing,’ Shelley muttered.
‘Keep your cool,’ he advised evenly. ‘You’re going to need it to deal with one Jamie Proctor, small, helpless, lost little boy.’ He went to the door. ‘Come along, I’ll go with you.’
Jamie, seeing Shelley creep into the dormitory, held out his arms. Shelley sat on his bed and let him hug her. She smoothed his hair and dried his cheeks. She whispered, ‘Tell me what’s wrong, Jamie.’ But he buried his face in her shoulder.
Craig strolled round to the other side of the bed and watched them.
Shelley held Jamie away. ‘Can’t you get to sleep, love?’ Jamie shook his head. ‘Have you told Matron?’ He nodded. ‘What did she say?’
‘She said I was a naughty boy and if I didn’t go to sleep like all the others,’ he indicated the curled-up sleeping forms of the three boys who shared the dormitory with him, ‘she’d smack me and tell my mummy how bad I was.’
This started the tears again and they dampened the ends of Shelley’s hair.
‘Good God,’ Craig breathed, ‘I didn’t know that. The woman deserves to be fired on the spot! If my mother doesn’t come home soon, I’ll take matters into my own hands.’
The word ‘mother’ had Jamie wailing. ‘Mummy, I want my mummy!’ The words, to Shelley’s ears and from this small boy, were painfully familiar.
She looked up at Craig. ‘What’s his mother doing leaving him here to fret his life away longing for her? It’s security he wants, not rigid school discipline.’
‘The woman must be hard,’ said Craig.
‘You’re wrong. I’ve met her and her husband. They’re both pleasant and harmless, only wanting the best for their child.’
‘For “best” read “status”,’ Craig commented bitterly.
‘It’s cruelty to children,’ Shelley said, feeling the boy’s clinging arms, ‘to leave such a sensitive, affectionate little soul in a boarding school environment.’
‘It can’t be true,’ Craig muttered sardonically, ‘Shelley Jenner and I agree on something. Don’t let the occasion go unrecorded!’
Jamie disengaged himself momentarily and looked at Craig, then at Shelley. In the semi-darkness, Shelley caught the child’s worried frown.
‘Craig, please,’ she murmured, looking up at him, ‘we mustn’t quarrel, not now. It upsets him so.’
Hands in his pockets, Craig considered her pale, pleading upturned face. Then he walked round to her side of the bed, found her chin, turned her face and kissed her, murmuring against her lips, ‘Full marks to Jamie. I always did approve of his subtle way of bringing about a pause in our hostilities.’
‘Jamie,’ Shelley whispered as Craig released her and wishing she could turn down the heat in her burning cheeks, ‘you must try to sleep now.’
But Jamie would not loosen his hold. ‘Has he had a milk drink?’ Shelley asked Craig.
‘Yes, I forced that out of the old—’ he glanced at Jamie, ‘out of Matron.’
‘What about something to cuddle?’ Shelley hazarded. ‘That might help. Have you a teddy bear, Jamie?’
Jamie nodded. ‘Matron took it away.’
A suppressed expletive from Craig, then Shelley said, ‘My sister’s got an old one tucked away. Would you like to borrow that?’
Jamie’s face brightened. ‘Yes, please.’
‘And who,’ came the voice from above their heads, ‘is going to walk all that way back and get this teddy bear?’
Shelley looked up at him pleadingly. ‘You, Craig. Please. It’s not far.’
‘What?’ in a subdued but exasperated whisper. ‘You’re asking me to walk into your sister’s bedroom while she’s peacefully and innocently sleeping...?’
Shelley caught the sarcasm but merely said, her voice cold, ‘It’s not in Jan’s bedroom. It’s in a cardboard box in a corner of the living-room.’
Craig tugged at the neck of his sweater. ‘For a moment I really thought you were manipulating events so as to get me into a compromising situation, as a result of which I would have to propose marriage to her. And a proposal of marriage, I vowed years ago, would never, under any circumstances, pass my lips.’ He added with a mocking smile, ‘Proposals of other kinds, yes, but not—repeat not—marriage.’ He walked away and came back. ‘Where is this teddy?’
‘I told you, in the living-room, near the window. You might have to dig down to find it.’ She pulled the key from her pocket and held it out. He took the key, caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the palm. He grinned, glancing at a staring Jamie. ‘Just for the record, to keep a small boy happy.’
‘There was no need—’ Shelley began, but Craig, who could see Jamie’s smiling face, put his finger to her lips.
‘There was every need, I assure you. Our truce has already brought about a remarkable change in the object of our attentions.’
‘Are you,’ Jamie whispered, looking from Shelley to Craig and back, ‘a mummy and daddy?’
Embarrassed by the question, Shelley felt Craig’s hands settle on her shoulders and as his thumbs rubbed softly against the skin of her neck, her pulses raced and her mouth went dry. Her hands lifted to try to stop him, but he merely imprisoned them under his.
‘Why do you ask, Jamie?’ she whispered back.
‘Because my daddy kisses my mummy like he,’ pointing to Craig, ‘kisses you.’
Craig murmured, with a goading smile at Shelley, ‘We aren’t at the moment, Jamie, but one day we might well be. Who knows?’
The answer seemed oddly to satisfy the boy and he sighed and settled back against the pillows.
‘I’ll get that teddy bear,’ said Craig; he bent down and, with his eyes on the boy’s tired, small face, kissed Shelley on the mouth. He felt her stiffen, gave her a brilliant, mocking smile and
went away.
By the time he returned, Jamie was asleep. The toy was placed beside him under the blankets and Shelley and Craig crept away.
‘I’ll go home now,’ Shelley said as they reached the entrance hall.
‘Not before you’ve had hot drink.’
‘I can make one for myself at home.’
Craig shrugged. ‘Fair enough. You can make one for me, too. Come on, I’ll take you back.’
She pulled away from his arm which was round her. ‘You don’t have to be so gallant, especially to me. You don’t get anything at the end of it, do you?’
‘You,’ he jerked her in front of him, arms imprisoned like a hostage and forced her towards the car, ‘would do well to blunt the edges of your tongue. That is, if you don’t want to go to the end of your life unwanted, unloved and undesired.’
‘That’s exactly what I do want,’ she responded fiercely, refusing his command to sit in the passenger seat. She felt herself swept up and deposited there, leaving her dignity on the gravel outside.
A few moments later he had pulled up in front of the lodge and had the door open for her. She got out of the car and said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t ask you in. It’s too late—’
He gripped her arms and propelled her in front of him again, towards the front door. He still had the key and used it. ‘I’m not waiting for an invitation.’ To prove it, he entered the hall after her and shut the door behind him, making for the kitchen.
‘I said I’d make a hot drink,’ she protested.
‘If I judge you correctly, you’d make one for yourself and not for me. Since I’m in need of liquid sustenance too, I’ll make it. Where’s the milk? In the fridge?’ She would not tell him but sat instead in a chair beside the kitchen table.
‘Thanks,’ he said through his teeth, ‘for your co-operation.’ He asked no more questions but opened doors and drawers, finding cups, cutlery and saucepans. ‘I’ll entertain you to a meal some time and let you do all the work.’
