I can't let her go, he thought. Everything I have is meaningless unless she's here to share it with me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
On polling day the weather was fair and Tanya accompanied Adrian on his visits to the various polling stations. All his helpers were supremely confident of his victory and she had to remind herself that Roger's helpers were no doubt equally convinced he would win. If only it were possible for both men to be the victors! But she knew the hope was foolish and admitted she would feel deeply upset if Adrian lost. Was it because she did not believe him when he had said yesterday that he would prefer to look after his estate? No, she decided. It was because she did not want any other man to vanquish him. More than anything else, it told her how deeply she still loved him.
At seven o'clock they returned to the house for a light meal—neither of them having much appetite—and she asked Adrian if he wished her to return with him to the Committee Rooms.
"After all, in an hour the voting will be over and my being with you won't make any difference to the result."
"I'd still like you to be there," he replied. "You've seen me through this far so you might as well be in at the kill." He gave a smile which held no amusement. "I seem to have phrased that rather badly—or perhaps rather well."
Silently Tanya went to her room to wash, knowing that had she replied, she would have given away her feelings. And she only had to hide them a short while longer. Soon the pretense would be over; the necessity for them to act as loving husband and wife gone.
Within the hour they were back to the melee and Tanya, watching the throng of canvassers and election campaigners who had been hard at work since seven o'clock that morning, felt guilty she had not been out with them. But Adrian had expressly forbade her from taking an active part in his campaign and she wondered now, as she had wondered many times before, whether it was because she was a foreigner. That of course was one more reason why she wanted him to win; at least it would reassure her that in coming here, she had not spoiled his life.
At nine o'clock the polling booths closed and she and Adrian drove to the Town Hall to await the results. Vans were delivering ballot boxes and people were already counting the votes behind closed doors. Adrian seemed to have completely shed his earlier restlessness and he sat on a chair, his arm folded and his expression relaxed. Strangely enough he did not look tired either and his mouth was firmly set, as if he were already composing himself to face the verdict.
As if aware of her gaze he turned his head and, seeing her watching him, shifted his chair until he was closer to her. For the moment his head blocked out the rest of the room and they seemed to be completely alone. She trembled, waiting for him to speak and now knowing what he was going to say. But when he did speak, the words were banal.
"You look tired, Tanya. Would you like me to fetch you a brandy?"
"No thanks." She felt herself drowning in the blueness of his eyes and searched for the proverbial straw. "How soon do you think we will have the result?"
"Not for a few hours yet. It was an exceptionally heavy poll. I think that—" He jumped up as he saw a tall dark-haired girl pushing her way through the throng toward him. "It's Diana," he murmured and went to greet her.
"Hello, Adrian," she said with a faint smile. "I had to come and wish you luck."
"I'm glad you did. You worked like a Trojan throughout the campaign." They went on looking at each other awkwardly and Tanya left her chair and joined them.
"It's good to see you, Diana. I was hoping you would come."
"I'd have been here earlier but I missed the fast train and had to hang about for an hour."
"So it's true you've left home," Adrian said.
"Don't you think it's time I did?" Diana questioned, and then put her hand to prevent Adrian answering. "But I don't want to inveigle you in family quarrels."
"I'd never think you were trying to do that. If I can help you in any way… If you'd like me to speak to your father…"
Quickly Tanya moved out of earshot. It was only right for Adrian and Diana to talk alone. Her attempts to bring her and Roger together had come to nothing and she must now be prepared to have Diana turn back to Adrian. It was not too difficult to see them sharing their future together; never attaining the heights but never attaining the lows either. It might be the sort of life they both preferred.
In a few months' time they will forget I ever came here, Tanya thought wearily and went to stand at the far side of the hall.
Left alone with Adrian, Diana did not know what to say to him. She was not sure if he knew exactly why she had quarreled with her father and she was reluctant- ashamed even—to discuss her newly found feelings for Roger.
"You will let me help you if you're ever in need of advice or money," he said firmly. "Though on the advice side, I'm not sure I'd do a good job. I've not made a great success of my own life."
"Don't be silly. You weren't to blame for your divorce."
"I'm to blame for what's happened in the last few months."
"At the time, you did what you thought was right."
"I've made two women unhappy," he said tersely. "You and Tanya."
"Not me," Diana said quickly. "Don't let's pretend about us."
"If your father hadn't always thrown me at you as an ideal husband, you might have woken up to your real feelings years ago."
"I doubt it. I had to grow up first. And that's taken me years."
"And now you've grown up—what next?"
"I don't know. I don't want to think about it. From now on my motto is one step at a time." She glanced around but could not see Tanya. "What about you, Adrian? Are you going to let Tanya leave you?"
Adrian's lids lowered to hide his eyes, then he raised them as if having decided not to hide the truth. "Until today I'd made up my mind to fight for her but—but in the last few hours I've wondered whether she'd be happier if she were free of me."
"Of course she wouldn't. I'm sure she loves you." Diana looked at her watch. "I must go or I'll miss my last train. Will you say goodbye to Tanya for me?"
"Why not stay the night with us?''
"I'd rather not. If Father got to hear of it, he might see it as a sign of my repentence!"
She hurried away before she could give herself a chance to change her mind, though she almost did when she reached the street and saw it raining heavily. The wet pavements were treacherous for her high-heeled shoes and she stumbled twice and once went up to her ankles in a puddle. She wore no hat and soon her hair was plastered to her head. The weather was synonymous with her mood and the small rivulets of water trickling down her face mingled with the tears trickling from her eyes.
She had gone to the Town Hall in the hope of seeing Roger as well as Adrian, but a quick word with an official had told her he was remaining in his own Committee Rooms until shortly before the results were declared. So much for her hope of seeing him. But what would she have gained from another meeting? A declaration of love from him? If he had wanted to make it, he had had ample time to do so in the day she had spent at home while packing her clothes and arranging for them to be sent on to her cousin. She had even fought her pride sufficiently to tell the housekeeper that if Roger Poulton telephoned in her absence, he was to be given her new number and address. But there had been no word from him, and though she had tried to make herself believe it was because he was caught up in the excitement of polling day, logic would not let her accept it. Had his love for her been real and not some idealistic emotion that stemmed from his youth, nothing would have prevented him from calling her and saying how pleased he was that she had finally broken away from her father.
She stopped walking to wipe the rain from her face and saw she had taken the wrong turning. With an exclamation of annoyance she made for the short cut through the new shopping center. Only as she did so did she realize she was passing Roger's Committee Rooms. The windows were plastered with posters showing his face and it brought him so close to her that she felt as thoug
h it were a physical contact. She stopped again, gasping for breath. Then on an impulse she could not deny, she stumbled through the door.
The room she entered was smoke-filled and full of people. They all seemed to be looking at her and she kept her face devoid of expression as she searched among the crowd for sight of the one man she wanted. But Roger was nowhere to be seen and she fumbled at the door handle, intent on escape.
"Diana! What are you doing here?"
She swung around and saw him making his way through the crowd. Under the fluorescent light his skin was greenish white, his hair redder than ever. The lines of strain on his face were so deeply marked they looked as though they had been carved into the flesh, while his eyes were red-rimmed from tiredness. Seeing him at his worst, she loved him the most and her heart contracted with tenderness for him.
"What do you want?" he repeated harshly.
"To—to see you b-before the result is announced," she stammered, and for the very first time was no longer mistress of the situation.
He went on glaring at her, wishing that on this night when he was taxed to the uttermost, she had not decided to come and tax him further. The very sight of her was a torment that made him remember everything he wanted to forget; the satin-smoothness of her skin, the warmth of her breath, the touch of her lips. What a fool he had been to send her those flowers; to have expected some response from her.
Remembering her cool entry upon his angry scene with Lord Biddell, he writhed with embarrassment. She had probably gone to London to stay with one of her society friends, and must have been amused by the sight of his anxiety. Just because she had disappeared for a night! Determined never to show her any anxiety again, he strove to keep all feeling from his voice.
"It's kind of you to come and wish me luck, Diana. Or have you come to commiserate with me in case I lose?"
"Would you want my commiseration?"
"I want nothing from you." He looked over his shoulder as someone at the end of the room called him. Diana turned the door handle and ran out.
Unfortunately it wasn't the door to the exit and she found herself in a gloomy corridor. For a moment she stood there, hating herself for the weakness that had made her come in search of Roger. She had hoped that if she made the first move to him, he would care sufficiently to make the second one. Well, now she knew better. Resolutely she searched for a way to get back to the exit without having to go through the main room again. There was another door on her left and she opened it and found herself in what she assumed was a canteen, for there was a counter at one end on which stood a mountain of cups and a large tea urn.
A depressed looking woman, wiping some plates, looked at her in surprise. "Tea's finished."
"I don't want any. I'm trying to find my way out."
"I'll show you," said Roger behind her, and drawing her into the corridor, opened another door and pushed her unceremoniously into an empty office. Seeing her alone, he saw her clearly, and the muscles in his throat contracted. Gone was Diana's usual impeccable air. Her eyes were swollen and mascara was smudged across her cheeks. The rain had flattened her hair and a few dark locks splayed across her forehead. Only her mouth was as beautiful as ever; more beautiful in fact, for it was pale and trembling; soft and vulnerable.
Conscious of his gaze, she pulled her thin coat closely round her, shivering as the collar touched her neck.
"You're soaking wet," he said.
"I won't melt."
"Not ever?" He saw uncertainty on her face and tried to withstand his desire to comfort her. "Your father won't approve of you coming here." It was not what he had intended to say and he wondered if he were destined to ruin his own life because of his big mouth. "I'm sorry for that," he apologized. "You did come and I'm grateful for it."
She looked around her. "You were going to show me the way out."
"Do you want me to?"
"What would you do if I said no?"
"This," he replied, and wrapped his arms around her.
Feeling the closeness of her trembling body, Roger's last vestige of control vanished. Until tonight he had only shown Diana his anger and his desire, but now he showed her his need; openly declared that without her no victory was worth winning; no defeat more disastrous than the loss of her love.
"It won't be easy for us," he whispered. "Fighting this election will be child's play compared with the way I’ll have to fight for you."
"You've already got me," she said. "I've left home, Roger, and I’ll come to you whenever you want."
"Openly and proudly," he said. "It's the only way. And that means going back to your father."
"Aren't you afraid he'll make me change my mind?"
Roger's answer was in the hard pressure of his mouth; the soft pressure of his moving hands; the burgeoning pressure of his thighs. Desire made her sag and he pushed her against the wall and kept her there by his weight.
"I want you," she cried. "Only you."
�"Then there's the answer to your question," he said. "And it's why I'm not afraid of anyone."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When Tanya looked at Adrian again, she saw that Diana had gone. Knowing herself to be unobserved, she allowed her eyes to feast on him, almost as if she were trying to absorb him into her consciousness. He was thinner than when she had first come to Park Gates and she wondered if this was due to her presence or to the exertion of the past months. Yet no matter how tired and irritable he was with others, he always tried to be polite to her. Too polite. Had their relationship been normal, he would have been able to allow himself to lose his temper or at least to show some of his feelings.
He turned to speak to the mayor and though she was too far away to see his expression, she knew from his stance that he was making an immense effort to be calm. His head was bent forward yet his shoulders were erect; his hands were held loosely at his sides but the fingers were clenching and unclenching quickly. To most people he was an enigmatic man but to her he had always been easy to understand. Even as an eighteen-year-old she had not been in awe of him, recognizing his reticence as shyness, his aloofness as a barrier that love could easily storm. And indeed love had done exactly that. The only trouble was that the love—on his part—had not lasted.
Suddenly she knew she could no longer remain here. Too overwrought to return to him and talk banalities, she left the hall and went into the street. It was raining hard and she waited on the steps of the Town Hall for several moments until the downpour eased. Then she began to walk, not knowing where she was going, only knowing she could not be with Adrian.
The onset of the rain again, heavier this time, decided her to seek shelter, and since shelter brought Roger instantly to mind, she went in search of him. Besides, he had been more of a friend to her than anyone else—apart from Betty—and it seemed wrong that she should not see him today and wish him well, even if he was astute enough to know she wanted Adrian to win.
Only as she saw his headquarters ahead of her did she hesitate. But another gust of wind precipitated her forward, and as she reached the entrance she saw a stream of people moving out into the street, among them Diana. In the same instant Diana saw her.
"Tanya!"
Tanya rubbed her hand over her forehead. "It was so hot—and the waiting, the suspense—no longer could I bear it."
"My dear, are you all right?"
"Yes. But I wanted to see Roger."
"You've just missed him. He's already gone to the Town Hall."
The expression on Diana's face made Tanya tremble. "Has he… do you mean he… he has won?"
"Yes. I'm terribly sorry. It was a very close thing; only eight votes."
"Oh, my poor Adrian!" Tanya turned away but Diana caught her arm. "If you're going back to the Town Hall, come with me."
" I don't want to go back. I can't!" Pulling herself free, Tanya hurried away, not pausing until she had turned the corner and was hidden from sight. It was her fault
Adrian had lost. Until she had come on
the scene everyone had been confident of his victory. How he must hate her. And she could not blame him for it, when she hated herself. Well, he would never have to see her again. She would keep her word and leave Park Gates immediately.
Ignoring the rain she ran to the taxi rank by the station and within twenty minutes was back at the house. It seemed empty and she guessed the staff were in their sitting room listening to the television while the rest of the family was no doubt at the Town Hall with Adrian. Bitterly she smiled. Family on one side, she on the other. Alone, alone; always alone.
It was well after midnight when Adrian and the family returned to Park Gates and wearily went into the drawing room, where drinks and sandwiches had been left for them. Quickly he poured himself a whisky and drained it, then strode into the library expecting Tanya to be there. But the room was empty and he returned to the drawing room."
"Is Tanya anywhere around?" he asked.
"She's probably gone to bed," his mother replied. "And a good thing too. She must feel so guilty that—"
"I won't have Tanya blamed for it!" he said harshly. "My failure tonight had nothing to do with her. She might have cost me some votes in the beginning, but once she started campaigning with me, she gained more votes than she ever lost. People loved her. They could talk to her; they felt she was sympathetic."
"You sound as if you're in love with her," his mother sniffed.
"I'm glad you've finally realized it."
Amazement held Mrs. Chesterton rigid. Then she glanced from him to her daughter. "I suppose you knew about it too?"
"Yes, mother. And I think it's wonderful. Tanya's a lovely person."
Unable to listen to any more discussion about his wife, Adrian made for the first floor. Outside Tanya's bedroom he stopped, debating what to do. He raised his hand to knock, but as he did so a clock downstairs chimed one and his hand fell to his side. It was too late to disturb her. He had wasted so much time that a few hours would not matter.
At seven-thirty he was already downstairs, hovering impatiently in the hall for a sight of Tanya. But eight o'clock came and then half-past and there was still no sign of her. Moodily he went into the breakfast room where he drank a cup of coffee and crumbled a piece of toast. He was on his second cup when Jean hurried in.
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