And then it had hit her. The numbed feeling had gone with sleep and warmth. The fog had cleared from her mind, and the pain began.
She loved Jake. And she would have to leave him, find another job. Philip had said all secretaries fell in love with their bosses, but they didn't all marry them. And he had been right.
Philip. She suddenly realised it was twenty-four hours since she had given him a thought. Her feelings for him she now dismissed as the dream Jake had said they were; Jake had been right about so much. Perhaps she had loved Philip once, but not the way she now loved Jake. Philip had not been real as Jake was now.
She loved and wanted Jake physically, but there was so much more. She wanted to be with him, to laugh with him and talk, to have him take care of her, and she wanted him to need her as she needed him. She thought ironically how easy it was to decide what one wanted. It was far more difficult to face the thought of having to do without it.
There was no way she could have an affair with him, even if that was what he wanted. And she was by no means sure if he did want it. Perhaps the week-end and a few kisses were quite enough for him. After all, he now had Andrea Temple to go back to. Anyway, it didn't make much difference either way.
She would have to get right away from him, from London perhaps: In time the pain would go or lessen, and she would be able to make some kind of life without him.
'Good morning, Davina.' It was Jake. 'You're early this morning.'
He didn't stop, but breezed straight through into his own office, not giving her a glance. She sat down on rather wobbly legs, and decided to stop dreaming and start work. There was plenty to do. She switched off the coffee and sat at her desk, trying not to think about the silence from the other room. Then she began to work. After a few minutes she was completely engrossed. When Heather arrived at nine o'clock, Davina greeted her quite naturally.
'Good week-end?' Heather asked.
'Yes, thank you. Everything all right on Friday?' Davina queried.
'Sure thing.' Heather was feeling chatty. 'Did you know the boss was away on Friday as well?'
The intercom flicked. 'Davina?'
'Yes?'
'Can I have some coffee, please?'
'Yes, right away.' Davina switched off the intercom. 'Heather, would you please go down for the post? I'll take in the coffee.'
'Right,' and Heather bounced out.
Davina poured Jake's coffee and went straight into his office without knocking. She put the cup down on his desk and he looked up briefly.
'Thank you.' Then she saw him stiffen. 'Where's your ring?' he demanded. 'Your engagement ring, Davina. Have you lost it?'
'No, of course not,' she said hotly. 'I've taken it off.'
'Why?' he demanded flatly.
'Don't you remember?' she stammered. 'We agreed…'
'Agreed what?'
'That I wouldn't wear it in the office.'
'Did we? I don't remember that.' He sat back and looked at her, noting the white face, the deep shadows under the eyes. 'I have your fur jacket,' he said suddenly. 'It's in the car.'
'Oh, yes,' she said. 'Er… could I talk to you for a moment, please?'
'Certainly,' he said curtly. 'We're having dinner tonight. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty.'
'No!' Her voice was sharply anxious. 'Please… I mean now. Could I talk to you for a minute?'
'No.' His voice was cold. 'I have this meeting in an hour and piles of stuff to get through before then. After that I'll be out for the rest of the day. I can't stop now.'
He was waiting for her to leave. But she didn't want to have dinner with him.
'I'm afraid I can't manage tonight,' she said next.
'Well then, I won't be able to find time to talk to you… or to listen, for that matter,' Jake said coldly.
Davina bit her lip uncertainly.
'Oh, for goodness' sake, Davina,' he snapped, 'we've had several meals together. You should know I don't eat girls over the dinner table.'
The colour flooded her face, but he didn't notice. He was looking down at his papers, pen in hand, a heavy frown between his eyes.
'Well, can you break your date? I can't wait around while you go off into a dream.'
'Very well,' she said heavily.
'Good, that's settled, then. Can I get on now, please?'
'More wine, signore, signorina?' The waiter was hovering.
'No, I think not,' said Jake. 'Coffee and liqueur… Davina, apricot brandy?'
She nodded. He remembered from the dinner dance that it was the only liqueur she liked.
'One apricot brandy and a Remy Martin for me, please,' Jake ordered.
'Immediately, Signor Humphries.'
'Thank you, Jake,' said Davina. 'I enjoyed that. It was a really lovely meal.'
'Good.' He looked at her. 'That's the first smile I've had out of you all evening.'
She was fiddling with her wine glass, a little nervous. He took it from her and picked up her left hand, playing idly with the finger where her ring had been. His touch was playing havoc with her senses, and she remembered the feeling of his parted lips against her palm in the kitchen at home.
'Now would you like to tell me what you were bursting with this morning?' he asked.
He had refused to let her talk when they arrived. Davina looked round the exclusive Italian restaurant where they were dining in an alcove, almost completely cut off from the other diners. It was the first time Jake had taken her out on a date, and she reflected ruefully that it was also the last. She had determined to enjoy it to the full. They had talked easily, joking about people and events over the week-end, gossiping about shop talk for a while, and all without tensions. Jake had been amusing, entertaining, and had not caused her a moment's embarrassment.
She had had to promise him at the start of the evening that nothing serious would be discussed over dinner—and now they had finished eating and the moment had come.
'Goodness, is it that difficult?' he asked, smiling faintly.
'It is a little, partly because I don't like what I'm going to say.'
'Well then, don't say it,' he said coldly.
'I have to.' She took a deep breath. 'I would like you to accept my notice. As soon as you can find a replacement for me, I want to leave the agency.'
'Oh, is that all?' Jake sighed with relief. 'I agree with you, it's the best thing under the circumstances. In fact I was going to suggest it myself.'
She looked at him astounded. He wanted her to go. He wasn't going to try and stop her going. She couldn't believe it.
'You see,' he went on smoothly, 'I wanted you to come out with me this evening for a reason, and what you've told me fits in rather well with my own plans.'
She looked at him now with curiosity, wondering what was coming next. He stopped playing with her finger and took her hand in a firm clasp. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold.
'Davina, will you consider making our engagement a real one? I would like us to be married when you've had time to get used to the idea.'
She stared at him, blindly, unable to take in what he had said.
'I don't understand,' she whispered at last.
'It doesn't seem complicated to me,' he said coolly. 'This is a proposal of marriage.' He smiled at her rather mockingly. 'The usual answer is either yes or no.'
'You can't mean it,' she said thickly. 'It has to be some kind of joke.'
'Do you know that's almost exactly what you said the last time I proposed?'
'But… why…?' she stammered awkwardly.
'All the usual reasons why people get married,' Jake said lightly. 'I believe we have much in common. We get on. You understand about my work, the long hours, the travelling. You would be able to entertain my business contacts. I think I'm not being unreasonably conceited if I say that we seem to find each other attractive. I would like to start a family in the not too distant future, if the idea appeals to you. That seems already to be a lot more reasons than most people
have these days for getting married.'
'I'm sorry, I…' Davina began.
'Just before you say no again, Davina, think a minute. I'm not asking you to marry me tomorrow. I hope I can persuade you in time to see it as a good idea. In the meantime I'd like you to wear my ring. But there won't be any rush to get married. There'll be plenty of time to get used to the idea, for us to get to know each other.' He stopped and looked intently into her face. 'Unless of course you have other plans… er… with someone else.' He stopped, a harsh note in his voice that jarred on her.
Davina felt as though he'd thrown her into a whirlpool. She loved him. There was nothing on this earth she wanted more than to be his wife, to be loved by him. But that was not on offer. His offer sounded like an invitation to dinner. His idea of marriage seemed to be an arrangement rather like hiring a hostess who would be the mother of his children, all thrown in and rolled into one.
She sat rigid with horror at the idea. She would adore him, and he would live his own life just as Monica had prophesied, with the Andrea Temples of this world, and they would meet to discuss his work and the next dinner party. Probably, she thought, slightly hysterical, he would be quite happy for her to have a string of lovers, too. But what about love? Did he plan to live without that for the rest of his life? And what about Anita? How did she fit into this? Was she not good enough to act the hostess, to mother his children? What sort of relationship did he plan to have with her?
'Well, Davina, is there someone else with whom you're involved?' he drawled.
'Jake, I…' she tried to explain, 'I'm honoured that you should ask me, but the answer is definitely no. I don't need to think about it. My answer would be no different in weeks or even months from now.' She sounded unhappy, and knew she was close to tears. 'I'm sorry, so sorry,' she added miserably.
'I see,' he said tersely. She looked up to see his face had gone white and taut, and she realised she had made him very angry. She opened her bag and took out the box with his ring inside it, and put it on the table between them. She spoke slowly and with difficulty.
'I think in the circumstances it will be best if we tell our families that we aren't… that we decided not to get married after all.'
'No, Davina, I don't want it back. For God's sake, you keep it.' His voice was raw and she kept her eyes down, refusing to look at him.
'I couldn't keep it. I'm sorry, Jake, it's not possible.'
'Oh, dear God, woman, why can't you…' He took the box and she saw his hand clench over it till the knuckles showed white. Her eyes flew to his face, but he was looking down at his hand, and she couldn't see his eyes. He seemed to be fighting for control.
At last he took the box and slipped it into his pocket. 'Very well, that seems to be that, then.' His voice was totally without any of the emotion of moments earlier, and Davina thought she must have imagined his agitation.
'I wish it could be different,' she said quietly, almost to herself.
'Do you? Do you really?' He leaned over and grasped her wrist. 'Well, why can't it be different? Are you marching straight into an affair with your brother-in-law? Is that why you can't get married?'
'No!' Her voice was anguished. 'No, Jake, how could you? Oh, God, no, of course not!' She couldn't take any more of this. 'Please, I would like to go.'
'Yes, of course.'
Jake signalled for the bill, and within minutes they were outside in Mayfair. In silence he put her into the car and drove her home. Outside her house he stopped the engine and switched off the lights.
'Thank you for tonight, Jake,' she said quietly. 'I'm sorry it had to end this way.'
'It hasn't ended yet,' he said angrily, and gripped her shoulders, pulling her into his arms.
'No,' she thought, 'I can't cope with this, not tonight,' and she fought him, trying to pull away, punching at him with her fists. But she made no impression on him. He held her in a brutal grip, hurting her arms so that she cried out with the pain. Then he bent his head and stopped her cry with his mouth, pressing her lips in a hard and brutal kiss that had her gasping for air. But he didn't let up, forcing her lips apart, kissing her hungrily as though he would never let her go, and she couldn't go on withholding her response. Suddenly she was kissing him back, fiercely and longingly, and she heard him groan her name. He kissed her hair, her eyes, her throat. She heard the buttons rip as he pulled her dress open and bent to kiss her shoulder, his tongue leaving a trail of fire as his mouth returned to her lips, opening them with his own. She was clinging to him, wanting him, yearning for him to take her.
He put his hand down to the soft skin of her breast, and she felt the nipple harden at his touch. And suddenly with a rush her mind returned to sanity and with a sob she pulled herself away from him.
He wasn't expecting it, and in a moment she was free. She grabbed for the door handle, pulled open the door and was running to the house, hunting feverishly for her key in case Jake was following. She let herself in, sped up the stairs to her own flat and locked herself in, leaning breathlessly against the door.
There was not a sound. She didn't hear the car start, and she was sure he hadn't gone. Was something wrong? She had not looked back in her headlong flight. Was he all right? Had she unwittingly hurt him as she tore herself away?
She opened her door and went along the landing to the window that gave on to the street. The car was still there and the lights were out. Oh, God, she thought, he was hurt! Unthinkingly, she rushed downstairs and out.
As she opened the front door she saw him. He was standing by the side of the car, smoking a cigar, looking up at the house.
'Jake,' she said softly, 'are you all right?'
'Davina,' he said quietly, 'will you come here a moment?'
She moved and stood before him, looking up into his face.
'I think it's better if we don't meet again,' he said in a low voice. 'There's no need to work your notice. I'll manage with temporary help until I find someone. I'll explain that you're not well and have taken leave of absence. After a time, I'll inform Personnel that you won't be coming back. That way there should be no problems for you.' He threw away his cheroot and opened the car door. 'Thank you for coming down again,' he said, got in and drove away.
Davina had been prepared for the beginning to be bad, but nothing had prepared her for the pain, the terrible sense of loss, the emptiness.
After the first twenty-four hours she decided she needed a holiday. She wouldn't try to look for work. But it was all useless. She couldn't sleep or rest, and her mind was totally concentrated on Jake.
Had she made the right decision? Would it have been better to be married to him, whatever kind of marriage he wanted, than to be totally without him? Could she have got used to his terms? Perhaps in time they would have come to a closer relationship. He might even have learned to love her.
Those would be her thoughts in the darkness of night. By the morning she had changed her mind. She had done the right thing. The raw pain of being with Jake, unloved, watching him with other women, was unthinkable agony, worse than being without him. And all the time she missed him. During the day she wanted to tell him things she noticed, hear him laugh, watch him smile, eat with him, and nothing seemed to make sense without him.
But the nights were the worst. That first week was made up of the longest nights she had ever lived through. She tossed and turned, longing for him physically. She wanted him there in her bed, holding her, loving her. She would never have thought it possible that she could yearn for someone so deeply.
Looking back, it seemed incredible that she had worked with him all that time without feeling anything for him, that three days out of her life could have riveted her deepest feelings and committed her to him so completely.
She had told Mrs Blunt nothing and, blessedly her landlady had asked no questions. She took messages on the telephone, swearing blind that Miss Richards was away and she couldn't say where she had gone. Once a day she would come up to the flat with the post and
bring messages. Sometimes she would arrive with a cup of tea which she had just happened to be making, a plate of soup or a piece of pie. She never stopped, never came in and never asked questions.
Heather rang several times, so did Mike and Georgina. But Davina never rang back; she wanted no contact with. any of them, and hoped they would eventually get tired of trying to contact her, and stop.
After a week she started going out. One evening she went to the cinema and found herself crying in the middle of a rather sophisticated comedy, so she came away.
Then she started getting up in the night to go for drives. She went up to Whitestone Pond, down to the Embankment or into the deserted West End. And that helped. She began to see London and grew to love it. The town seemed to come into its own in the early hours. The street lamps shone on the newly washed roads as the sweepers went slowly by. Shops were shrouded in darkness and traffic lights flickered on and off into a world empty of cars and people. After such drives she would come home exhausted and able to sleep. With no alarm clock set and no reason to get up, she would sleep on into the day.
She found she was losing weight, so she tried going for long walks on the Heath to work up an appetite. She saw fathers on Parliament Hill Fields teaching small sons to fly a kite, endless pram and dog owners watching over their charges, and she spent one whole afternoon playing baseball with half a dozen truanting schoolboys, who accepted her coming and going with complete detachment.
It was the fifth week after her dinner with Jake that she got up to find her little balcony flooded with sunlight. Her spirits lightened and she went out. She bought herself some rolls and coffee in one of the Hampstead tea-shops, and sat outside in the sun, reading a paper.
It turned into a heatwave and Davina loved it. She sat on her balcony, lulled by the sun on her face, thinking of nothing, her mind a blank. And gradually the rawness of the pain began to ease. The longing and the need for him remained, but the desperation lessened. She knew she had to survive without him, and she knew she had to start living again.
Wedding in the Family Page 13
