'And the second time!' Davina asked.
'Last Saturday. Jake rang us. It seems he expected you to be here. He sounded upset when I told him we weren't expecting you.'
Davina looked down into her cup. So he had cared enough about her disappearance to try to find her. Just kind concern, she thought, nothing personal.
'Have you seen him?' her father asked.
'No, not really. By accident… we met at a christening. The baby of a mutual friend. Jake was godfather.'
Her father sighed. 'You know,' he said gently, 'I liked him.' He looked away from her deliberately. 'I know how badly I behaved to him that day, and the Sunday we had a drink at the club I went on at him in much the same way. But underneath I couldn't help liking him. He was loyal to you. He trusted you, where I hadn't. And he was right to be angry. I know now I got a lot of things wrong, and I hurt you and your mother. After the wedding, with Monica gone, I had time to think back, to remember and to wonder about things that hadn't struck me at the time. And now, with the baby coming, so soon…' he stroked his chin slowly, in the way she knew so well, 'I think I jumped to some of the wrong conclusions, perhaps because I was hurt at the way you cancelled your wedding and left us in the lurch. Anyway, I'm not proud of the way I behaved. I had hoped some day I would have the chance to tell Jake, to explain. But at least I can tell you.' He looked at her. 'I'm sorry, child, and I hope what has happened had nothing to do with the things I said to you both.'
'No, Dad, nothing.' She put her face in her hands as the tears started, slowly, silently, and he moved his chair to sit beside her, cradling her head in his arms as he used to do. 'Dad, he's married. And I didn't know!'
Her father stiffened. 'You mean he was married that day when you were both here?' he demanded angrily.
'Oh, no, no, not then.' Her voice was muffled against his sweater. 'He married the girl next door. She's eighteen and has always adored him. And his father is thrilled. He'd always hoped for the marriage.' She was sobbing. 'I can't bear it… I love him so terribly.'
'Hush, child! It doesn't seem to make sense. How could he be married to his girl when he was engaged to you only… about two months ago?'
So Davina told him about Jake, leaving out only the emotional scenes with Philip on the beach and with Jake at his flat. That she could never tell anyone.
Her father didn't move until she had finished.
'I didn't want you and Mum to think I still loved Philip,' she ended.
'Well,' he said finally, 'life can get complicated, can't it? Ina, why did you refuse to marry him when he asked you? If you loved him?'
'Because he didn't love me. For him it was just a convenient arrangement and he… wanted me.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes, of course I'm sure,' Davina answered in surprise. 'He never mentioned love.'
'Men don't always, you know. It's something that's often more important to women.'
'Oh, Dad, that's not right! Didn't you mention love when you proposed to Mum?'
'That was different,' he said quietly, 'that was a different age.'
'I don't believe that. Anyway, I knew he didn't love me.'
'You don't think it might have come… later?'
Davina thought for a moment.
'He's used to a pattern of living with girl-friends who are changed regularly with the curtains and wallpaper. I think we could only have made a go of it if he'd really loved and wanted me. The kind of married arrangement he suggested left that out, completely.'
'Very well, dear. You know best, of course. Anyway, it's all over now he's married, so perhaps you were right about his feelings.'
'David, where are you?' It was her mother's voice. 'I'm back!' They heard the bang of the front door closing and then her mother stood in the doorway, mouth open, eyes wide in astonishment. 'Darling!' she cried, and Davina flew to hug her. 'What a lovely surprise! And I've nothing to eat. David, have you made her something? Oh, and your room… the bed's not made up… oh, why didn't you ring me at Nancy's, David, I would have come straight back. How long have you been here?'
Finally she stopped and her eyes moved to her husband's face across her daughter's head. He put his finger to his lips -with a warning look.
Davina drew back. 'I ate on the train. And I can make my own bed, you know. I've come to stay for a few days… is that all right?'
'Of course it's all right. I can't imagine anything nicer. And it doesn't matter about the bed or anything. I was just flustered for the moment. It's so lovely to see you.' Mrs Richards turned away to hide her tears at the sight of her daughter's unhappy face. She gave her coat to her husband. 'Will you hang that up for me, please, dear?' Her voice was thick with suppressed anger. 'And if Jake Humphries is the reason you look the way you do, then fiancé or not, I shall have words with him!'
'Oh, no, Mum, please!' Davina implored her. 'I couldn't bear it. Please, Dad!' she appealed to her father, and rushed out of the kitchen, upstairs to the little bedroom she had used the week-end of Monica's wedding.
Taking off her clothes, she picked a robe from the cupboard, had a quick wash and came back to creep into the unmade bed. Within minutes she was fast asleep.
She woke early and the house was quiet, as it had been each morning of the past week since she had come home. She got up, pulled on sneakers, cord trousers, a fisherman's jersey and a duffle coat from the hall downstairs. Quietly unlocking the kitchen door, she let herself out of the house into the early dawn. It was damp and cool, and she made for the dunes just as the sun rose hazily over the distant headland.
She loved this time of day. There was not a soul stirring, and she walked along the water's edge undisturbed, the wet sand squelching under her feet, the wind in her face and the gulls chattering shrilly overhead. Out at sea the grey waters churned on to the horizon. During the past week the turbulent beauty of this place she loved so much had soaked into her, rebuilding her strength and reviving her spirit.
The first morning she had phoned Maddy to say she'd changed her mind about going abroad. Maddy had accepted this without surprise, and suggested she get in touch when she had decided what to do next.
In the days that followed Davina began to revive, lapped round by her parents' love and care. They asked no questions, made no demands. She could come and go as she pleased, talk or not as she wished. She ate and slept when she was hungry and tired at odd times of the day and night, and they had not worried. She spent long hours wandering along the beach, climbing the cliffs, searching for shells, studying fish life in the rock pools and letting her mind drift.
She thought about Jake, too, but differently. She loved him, but he had married Anita, and this she had to accept. She had been timid and unhappy long enough, and the yearning and the dreaming had to stop. She knew she would have to survive without him… somehow. She didn't think she would ever marry, and she would always be somewhere alone without him, her inmost self shut away. But she would no longer whine for what she could not have, because it belonged to someone else.
So she decided to go back to London. She would move, and she would not live alone again. That kind of loneliness was also over. She would find a flat to share with another girl, and return to the world she loved… advertising. She had ability and experience, and she should be able to get a job that would involve her, give her renewed self-respect and fill her life. When eventually she and Jake met again, as they were bound to do, she would be armoured, secure in a life of her own.
Suddenly a restless energy seemed to possess her, and she started running along the sands, her hair flying, her arms stretched high to the winds, the cobwebs in her mind dispersing.
Breathless, the colour vivid in her face, she arrived home to find her parents, sleepy and in dressing gowns enjoying an early cup of tea. Later, she thought, she would phone Maddy and tell her she was coming back to London… to work and to live.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They were dining at the Connaught. As she put the finishing touches t
o her make-up, Davina was conscious of a slight twinge. The Connaught was for ever imprinted on her mind as the place where she had breakfasted with Jake. But she put the thought away and counted her blessings. She looked good and she knew it. Her face had a new serenity, a quiet confidence that her job and her new boss had given her.
Toby Wyndham was a real star in the advertising world, running his own agency which was gradually winning interesting accounts from competitors. She had liked him immediately at the interview, and had been pleased when he had picked her from several more experienced applicants. She was his personal assistant, with a secretary of her own and an office on the first floor of the elegant house in Mayfair that was the Wyndham agency. It was much smaller than Foster Pattersons, and all the members of staff had to be prepared to turn their hand to anything that might come up. This had given her new confidence in her own ability, and Toby appreciated her dedication, her efficiency and her tact in dealing with people in a world notorious for difficult temperaments. He and his wife, Eileen, had drawn her into their social life, and she had blossomed in the happy atmosphere that Eileen insisted was essential for her husband's welfare. Eileen was an inspired hostess, and invitations to her dinner parties were much in demand.
Several times she had marvelled at Davina's resistance to the eligible, attractive bachelors who came her way and made no secret of their interest in the boss's P. A. But no one had pressed her. They all accepted that Davina was a very private person, and she returned each night with relief to the flat she shared with a friend of Maddy's just behind Lords cricket ground in St John's Wood.
Returning to London after that visit to her parents' home three months before, she had gone to see Maddy, who had helped her in a miraculously short time to find a job, a flat and a girl to share it with. Michelle was one of Maddy's temps, and led a hectic social life, so that they saw little of each other. They had each their own bedroom and shared kitchen, bathroom and a low-ceilinged, spacious attic sitting room which had been lovingly decorated and filled with personal possessions of both girls to make it comfortable and attractive. It was a good life, and Davina never took any of it for granted.
A dab of perfume and she was ready. The sea-green wild silk evening dress suited her tall, slender figure, flowing from a tight waist where a wide silver belt gathered the fullness of the low-cut top. Long transparent sleeves ended in large cuffs, and she wore satin pumps dyed to match. She was still a little thin, she observed critically, but the dress emphasised her long legs, and the colour showed up the silken heaviness of her coiled hair.
Tonight she was dining with the Wyndhams, largely to make up the numbers. One of the agency's American backers was here with his wife and brother, and Eileen and Toby were going to show them some of London's night life. Davina had met Mr and Mrs Winner at the agency earlier in the week, but Mr Winner's brother she only knew to be an attorney in the States. They were to meet for the first time that evening.
The horn from the mini-cab downstairs told her it was time to go. Speeding into the centre of London, she wondered again what miracle had prevented a meeting between herself and Jake. In the early weeks of her return from St Ives she had been afraid each day and every night that she might run into him. At the office she had expected to hear his voice on the phone, his name mentioned. The advertising world was not a large one and most people in it knew each other. But it had not happened.
She knew Toby was acquainted with Mark Foster of Foster Pattersons. They belonged to the same club and occasionally lunched together. But that seemed to be the extent of any contact between the two companies, and she prayed it would stay that way.
The mini-cab dropped her off at the entrance to the Connaught, and the driver bowed politely and drove off. It was one of Toby's most endearing qualities that he always organised transport for her when she was helping him to entertain clients in her own time. The others had just arrived when she joined them in the bar, and they settled down for drinks and a discussion of the menu.
Davina had a champagne cocktail which Toby set down before her within minutes of her arrival. She raised her glass and thanked him with a smile. She always picked a light meal on these occasions, and settled on a consommé followed by grilled sole and salad. When everyone had chosen and Toby had ordered, the conversation began. Davina sat back and looked at her companion for the evening. Bill Winner was a tall, rangy Texan around thirty-five, she guessed. His hair was bleached blond and curly, his eyes blue, with laughter and sun lines around them. He was expensively dressed in the American style, and his glances told her he appreciated what he saw. They were soon engaged in light, amusing conversation and Davina knew she was going to enjoy the evening. He took her arm lightly as they made their way to the restaurant and made sure he was seated by her.
Davina looked around and heaved a sigh of relief. At night the busy and crowded restaurant bore no traces of the hushed, sunlit breakfast room she remembered. Bill Winner smiled at her, one eyebrow raised in query as he leaned towards her.
'Ghosts?' he asked.
'How did you guess?' she countered.
'I must make sure they're well and truly laid during the evening, then.' He lifted his glass. 'To my stay in London,' he said in mock solemnity. 'May the rest be as enjoyable as this moment.'
Davina laughed with pleasure at his nonsense and the talk round the table became general as the first course appeared.
Coffee was being poured when she felt a strange tingle down her back, as though she was being observed. She shook herself slightly to dismiss the fancy and concentrated on the photographs of his wife and children that Bill Winner was spreading for her on the table.
'Now this was last summer when…' He stopped suddenly. 'Are you cold?'
Davina smiled. 'No, just someone walking over my grave, I think,' she said lightly. 'Go on.'
He leaned back in his chair. 'It's none of my business,' he said quietly and more seriously than she had yet seen him, 'but there's someone sitting at the far end of the room behind you who's been watching you for some time.'
Davina stiffened. Could this be it? Would this be the evening and the place where she would run into Jake and Anita? A sudden fear clutched at her, and her throat tightened as it hadn't for many a day.
But then she lifted her chin. She couldn't spend the whole of her life dreading this encounter. Perhaps it would be easier once it was over. She smiled at her companion.
'That accounts for it, then,' she said brightly. 'Please go on.'
'Well, this holiday was rather funny…' He looked up unexpectedly to catch sight of the rigid set of her face. He leaned forward and took one of her hands lying on the table and clasped it in his. It was warm and firm and, for a moment, Davina clung to him.
'You think you know who it is. Is that right?' he asked gently. She nodded. 'Right,' he said quietly, 'let's take it from there. You just sit quietly and hang on to me. I'm going to describe him to you.' He paused to look at her intently. 'Are you ready?'
'Yes.'
'OK., here goes. He's a big fellow—very big, tall, broad and sort of rugged, dark hair, straight, I think. He's in evening dress. He's looking over at us and he can see I'm holding your hand. He looks kind of serious. Attractive, I would guess, to the womenfolk.' He turned his eyes back to her to see a glimmering of tears on her lashes. 'It's him?' he asked.
Davina nodded again and swallowed hard.
'Right,' said Bill, and turned to a passing waiter. 'Would you bring me a Cointreau, please?'
'Not for me, I hope…' Davina began.
'Now let me tell you something, young lady,' he interrupted. 'I have years of experience of emotional females. I live with two. My wife is so soft, even watching our kids at the dentist makes her cry, and my four-year-old daughter is a collector of strays—animal and human, which is going to be a lifelong trial to us all.'
Davina smiled tremulously at that.
'Let me tell you about Cointreau,' Bill went on. 'It's light, not intoxicating
, and guaranteed to lift the morale. Take it from me. It works even with my wife.'
The waiter put the clear liqueur down in front of him.
'Here we are,' Bill Winner said cheerfully, and pushed it over to her. 'Now I'm going to watch you drink it.'
'Do you always announce what you're going to do before you do it?' she asked.
'Invariably with females in shock, yes. I've found it works wonders. Now drink it, and I mean all of it.'
Davina drank and felt the soothing liquid melting the constriction in her throat.
'Breathing better?' he asked.
'Yes.'
'Good. Now your young man isn't going to come over here and say hello. If he'd planned that he would have done so by now. That means…'
'He's not my young man,' Davina protested.
'Well, it's none of my business, but it looks to me, if he's not your young man, he wants to be just that. Anyway, he's not going to accost you in the restaurant. So there's no need to worry there might be a scene. I would guess it's far more likely he'll send you flowers in the morning and it will all come all right.'
She bowed her head at that and looked down at her hand, still firmly in his grasp.
'Forgive me,' he said as he leaned towards her. 'I'm a silly blundering fool. Take no notice.'
She shook her head, striving for composure.
'Davina,' Eileen leaned across the table, 'we're just saying we've been here long enough. Toby wants to go on to Annabel's. Are you about ready to move?'
'Yes, of course, Eileen. It's been lovely.'
'Good.' Eileen turned to her husband. 'Shall we go, darling?'
'Right-ho. You ladies collect your wraps and we'll follow.'
Bill Winner let go of her hand, and the men stood as the ladies left the table. Davina kept a tight control on herself and did not turn round to look for Jake. In the cloakroom she sat thankfully and repaired her make-up, listening only vaguely to the chat of the two older women. Retrieving their coats, they moved back into the foyer, and Davina stopped, frozen, as she saw Jake and Mark Foster in conversation with Toby and the Winners.
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