Dangerous Enchantment

by Anne Mather

  Julie sighed. “That’s right. Do you?”

  “Good lord, no! But I was curious how you found him.” He shrugged. “Julie love, I see everything through the eyes of my paintbrush, and it occurs to me that Manuel Cortez has the kind of face I would like to paint. There’s something in his face… I can’t describe it exactly, but I can picture him as a conquistador… a bullfighter perhaps! Who knows? But surely you must have noticed his magnetism, or is it merely assumed for his stage performance?”

  “Ben!” Samantha said now. “Must we discuss this particular subject? I told you …”

  “It’s all right, Samantha,” said Julie, smiling. “I’m not going to break down, or anything.” In truth it was quite a relief talking about Manuel. It helped to ease the pain she had endured all day.

  Earlier on in the day she had cherished some vain hopes that he might conceivably try to get in touch with her. After all, he knew where she worked, and he knew her home address. And if he could not contact her himself there was always José. But now it was obvious that he had no such intentions.

  “Actually,” she went on to Benedict, “I have seen what you mean. I’ve known several handsome men, but Manuel has something more than mere good looks, and I think you’re right. It’s a kind of dominance.” She frowned. “He hasn’t found life easy, yet he has won. Maybe now he can’t lose.”

  Samantha grimaced. “He doesn’t strike me that way. I’ve always thought of him as being rather too self-confident.”

  “Well, he is,” said Benedict seriously. “But then it can’t have been easy for someone from his environment to become so famous so young.”

  “Well, you’re beginning to bore me,” remarked Samantha indifferently. “And you haven’t any need for a model for the kind of painting you’re talking about. There are plenty of strong-featured arrogant Spaniards painted already.”

  Benedict shook his head good-humouredly. “Darling, don’t be dense. Every painting I do is mine; it bears my signature, and reveals my own character to a certain extent. I paint what I see, and I would like to paint Cortez.”

  “Well, you’re going to be unlucky,” said Samantha smugly. “He leaves for the States tomorrow. I read it in this evening’s Standard, so you’ve had it!”

  The blood drained out of Julie’s face. She felt the cold painful claw clutch at her stomach. Samantha’s lightly shed words almost paralysed her with misery. It couldn’t be true! It couldn’t be happening to her! He just couldn’t leave her like that, without another word, could he?

  In the diffused lighting, Samantha and Benedict did not notice her withdrawal, and Julie was grateful. She could not have borne their sympathy. No more than she could bear the thought of returning home this evening and carrying on with her life as before.

  “More coffee?” asked Samantha now, and Julie nodded. Coffee and a cigarette might just give her the strength to leave the flat without bursting into tears. Was it possible that just a fortnight ago she had imagined herself free, lucky and contented? Her future secure and serene? How foolish she had been, tempting fate like that!

  On the television newsreel on Thursday evening, Julie saw Manuel’s departure from London Airport. The commentator said that Señor Cortez had had to cancel his latter engagements this week owing to an unexpected attack of a virus but that he hoped to return later in the year to fulfil his contract.

  It was agony to see him, slim and dark, in a light-coloured overcoat, mounting the steps of the Boeing and turning to wave at the crowds; fans who had come to see him off. It was incredible and fantastic to imagine herself held in his arms, to remember the warmth of his body and the demanding pressure of his mouth. It was useless to tell herself that he had had no honourable intentions – such old-fashioned words – towards her. It had been an episode in her life that would quickly assume unreality, and the sooner she accepted the fact, the better it would be.

  Paul Bannister, who had been completely unaware of her relationship with Manuel Cortez, came back quickly into her life, and her mother, who had been so understanding from the beginning, did not ask unnecessary questions, when it became apparent that Julie was no longer seeing any other man. Samantha was the only person who was wholly aware of the situation, and even she avoided the subject like the plague.

  In three weeks, Julie found that her life had resumed its earlier normality. Paul, now she was away from Manuel’s disturbing presence, became once again a very pleasant young man, and she found that if she tried very hard she could practically dispel all thoughts of Manuel from her mind when she was with Paul. After all, she was young, and with the resilience of youth she fought off the depressive influences that might have ruined her life and her looks.

  Christmas was drawing near and the store was busy decking itself out in its Christmas frivolities. Paul and Julie attended dances and parties, and arrangements were made for Christmas Day itself.

  Julie and Paul were going to spend the day with Samantha and Benedict, while their respective parents celebrated all together. Julie told Samantha she thought she was behaving rather foolishly having a party on Christmas Day when the baby was due to be born on the twenty-ninth anyway, but Samantha merely laughed and shrugged, and said she had no intention of spending a gloomy day thinking about her confinement. Nothing would dissuade her, so Julie gave up. After all, at least if they were there, if anything happened she would be able to help Sam.

  But, as luck would have it, Samantha did not wait until Christmas Day to have her baby. He was born on Christmas Eve, a bouncing nine-pounder, and Samantha found she would be spending Christmas Day in St. David’s nursing home.

  So, on Christmas Day, Julie found herself at the hospital, visiting Samantha, and taking her first tender look at the new baby. She felt a surge of pain in the pit of her stomach, as she looked down on the new baby’s tiny face, allowing small yet amazingly strong fingers to curl about hers, and in so doing to curl about her heart. How wonderful, she thought, to be married to the man you love, and to have borne his child.

  She sighed, and Samantha roused herself from reading congratulatory telegrams to ask: “What’s wrong, honey? It’s over six weeks since Cortez left for the States. Surely you’re not still thinking about him!”

  Julie straightened, and shrugged. “Sometimes,” she admitted honestly, “I envy you, Sam. You have everything you want. You must be terribly happy.”

  “I am, rather,” murmured Samantha contentedly, but she looked anxiously at her friend. “Julie why don’t you marry Paul and be done with it? If you were married, with children of your own, you would forget all about Manuel Cortez.”

  “Would I?” Julie was not so sure. “Samantha, it’s no use my deceiving Paul like that, and marrying him, and then finding out in a couple of years I wanted a divorce.”

  Samantha sighed, “Yes, that’s true. Well, maybe a change of environment is what you need. Why don’t you change your job? Take a job with children? That’s what you’re always saying you would like to do. Or train to be a nurse. After all, there are never enough nurses.”

  Julie shook her head. “Oh, don’t be silly,” she smiled. “I’m all right, really I am. And I expect I will marry Paul one day, but not just yet. I don’t feel I want to tie myself down quite so soon.”

  “If Paul were the right man tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough,” remarked Samantha, and Julie said she wasn’t being realistic.

  Samantha shrugged, “H’mm. Maybe not.” Then she changed the subject, and Julie forgot about it.

  Paul had bought Julie a bracelet for Christmas, a delicate thing of silver filigree, hung with small charms. Julie had been dubious as to whether she ought to accept such a present from him, but his pleasure in her surprise drove all thoughts out of her head, and she thanked him warmly, her arms about his neck, her lips barely touching his own.

  She had bought him some long-playing records, and on Christmas afternoon, when Julie’s parents had driven over to the Bannisters’, they played the records on Julie’s
father’s hi-fi, stretched out lazily on the rug.

  Julie felt very peaceful, and it was with a kind of shock she heard Paul say softly:

  “Julie, why don’t we get married this coming spring? There’s nothing to stop us; I’m earning enough for us to get a decent flat to begin with, and we could be together.”

  Julie rolled on to her stomach. “Paul, I. …” She halted awkwardly. “Paul, you know I like you, but love… I’m not sure about that!”

  Paul laid an arm across her shoulders, turning her towards him.

  “Aren’t you? Why? Where’s the problem? Surely we know each other well enough to discuss these things?”

  “I guess we do,” said Julie dubiously. “Paul, have you ever had… I mean… have you ever had an affair with another woman? Oh, that’s badly put!” She flushed, aware of Paul’s astounded expression. “Paul, make it easy for me. Have you ever wanted a woman, without wanting to marry her?”

  Paul sat up abruptly. “Julie!”

  “Well, have you?” she sighed. “Paul, listen, surely you can see I’m not asking you out of curiosity.”

  “Then why are you asking?”

  “Because it’s important to me to know.”

  Paul shrugged. “Very well, then. If you must know, naturally I’ve been attracted to other women, but only before we met. Since our association I’ve not been interested in anyone else.” He frowned. “Why? Have you?”

  Julie flushed. “It’s difficult to answer that,” she replied honestly. “But our relationship has always been so…so… well, companionable, and lately I’ve been wondering whether we have been allowing ourselves to drift into something that wasn’t there to begin with.”

  “Julie!” Paul looked astounded. “I’ve always been sure of my feelings for you!”

  Julie sighed. “What is it that makes you so certain?”

  “We like the same things, we both want a home, and a family. We have so much in common. …”

  “But is that all there is to love? I mean, a home and a family require more than just friendship between two people. How can you be sure that we would be happy together?”

  Paul looked annoyed. “Really, Julie, I think you’re being particularly irritating! It must be the sherry we had at lunchtime. You’ve never talked this way before. And I for one don’t wish to discuss it any longer.”

  Julie hunched her shoulders. She wasn’t being deliberately perverse, but when she married she wanted it to be for all time. She didn’t want to find herself seeking a divorce later on because they found each other incompatible. Her own parents still loved one another deeply after almost twenty-five years of marriage, and that was how she intended her marriage should be.

  But marriage with Paul had become anathema to her, and she was painfully aware that her calm and secure existence was rocking a little at its foundations.

  Paul got restlessly to his feet. “You would have to choose today to talk like this,” he said angrily. “I told my parents I was going to ask you today, and no doubt they’ll have spilled the beans to your parents, too.”

  “Paul! Oh, Paul, you shouldn’t have done that!”

  “Why? Why? How was I to know you were going to start behaving like an overgrown schoolgirl? I thought you were as keen as I was!”

  Julie shook her head. “Oh, Paul,” she said helplessly, “I can’t answer you, not yet. Maybe it’s something that’s invaded my system, maybe I’ll get over it in time, but right now I can’t agree to marry you.” She looked up at him. “And please, if you feel you can’t accept this, then let’s break it up once and for all. It’s not right that I should expect you to hang around waiting for me to make up my mind. You have a life of your own to lead, and I’ll understand if you want to call it a day now.”

  Paul compressed his lips momentarily. “Julie,” he said. “Oh, Julie, I don’t want us to split up. There’s no other girl for me, you know that. I guess I’ll hang around, as you call it.”

  Julie was contrite. She sprang up and slid an arm through one of Paul’s. “Paul, I feel so awful! I wish I could say yes.”

  “Give it time,” said Paul softly, with a little more confidence. “It will come, I’m sure.”

  Julie nodded, but deep inside her she wished she had his confidence. And she wished with all her heart that she and Paul had never attended that staff dinner dance and that she had never met Manuel Cortez. Without his disturbing influence she would have married Paul in the spring as he suggested, and probably by next spring she would have had a family of her own and the contented state that comes with the fulfilment of her motherhood.

  Paul bent his head to kiss her, and she returned his kiss more fervently than ever before. It had got to come right again, it had just got to.

  * * *

  Samantha was in hospital for three weeks, and during this time she and Julie renewed the close relationship which had grown less intimate in the years since Samantha’s marriage to Benedict. Benedict himself was working hard, his creative instincts demanding, and consequently he did not spend as much time at the hospital as Samantha would have liked. So she turned more and more to Julie, and it gave Julie a breathing space from seeing too much of Paul. Samantha heard about Paul’s proposal, and Julie’s subsequent uncertainty, and tried her hardest to find a solution to Julie’s problems.

  “Damn Manuel Cortez,” she said, one evening towards the end of her confinement in the nursing home. “He’s the real problem, isn’t he?”

  Julie sighed. “I suppose so.”

  Samantha frowned. “Do you know what I think?” and when Julie shook her head, she continued: “I think that you need to see this Manuel Cortez again, and dispel this myth of charm and mystery and excitement you’re weaving about him. How many times did you see him? Four times? Well, really, you can’t have gotten to know him so well in so short a time. I mean, one tends to elaborate things and situations like your experiences with him, and I’m sure the fact that he appeared to you as a glamorous South American had clouded your senses.”

  Julie half-smiled. “Samantha! That’s not true, and you know it. Why, even Benedict recognized that charm about him. Oh, let’s forget him.”

  They changed the subject, and for a few weeks it was forgotten. Then, one evening towards the end of January, Samantha had some very exciting news for her friend.

  “You’ll never guess what, darling?” she exclaimed. “Ben has been offered the chance of lecturing for six weeks at a university in California. Isn’t that marvellous? All expenses paid and so on, and we, Tony and I, can go, too.” Tony was the new baby.

  “How marvellous!” Julie was genuinely pleased for her friend. “It’s just what you need after having the baby and so on.”

  “Yes, I know.” Samantha hugged herself excitedly. Then she looked speculatively at Julie. “How would you like to come with us?”

  Julie’s mouth almost dropped open in astonishment. “Me?” she gasped. “I couldn’t afford a trip of that kind!”

  “Well, I know, but I thought you might make it a working holiday. I shall need someone to take care of Tony while I’m out with Ben, and then there’ll be nappies to wash, and that kind of thing. You’re always saying how much you’d like to work with children. Well, here’s your chance.”

  Julie shook her head, a hand to her throat. “It sounds terrific,” she confessed candidly, “but I couldn’t do it. I mean, I don’t really know anything about babies.”

  “Nor did I, but you soon learn. Besides, I’d rather have you with me than some stranger. Couldn’t you at least think about it?”

  Julie shook her head again. “I’m sorry, Samantha, but really, it’s too fantastic!”

  “Why? We could pay you a small wage, and your keep, of course. It would give you a chance to get completely away from Paul Bannister, to see whether your feelings for him really are dead, or whether they crystallize into a grand passion. We would only be away about seven weeks, in all, including travelling time and so on. Then when you came back it w
ould be almost summer, and life might not seem so depressing to you as it obviously does at the moment.”

  The temptation was great. Julie longed to pack up and leave her present environment for a short time, but there was the problem of giving up her job at Fordhams, and the equally difficult problem of finding a suitable job when she returned. She mentioned this to Samantha.

  “Well, really, darling, your job isn’t the kind of job you couldn’t take up again on your return, is it?” she countered. “And besides, if you gain a little experience with me, you may decide to change your mode of employment altogether. As I told you when I was in the nursing home, a change is as good as a rest, and quite honestly you are beginning to look very peaky.”

  “Thank you,” remarked Julie sardonically, but she smiled. “You know I’d like to do it, Sam, but… oh, I’ll discuss it with Mum and Dad and see what they think. Will that do?”

  Her parents were, to her surprise, quite willing for her to go with the Barlows.

  “I’ve thought for some time you haven’t seemed yourself,” said her father ponderously. “I think it’s this trouble over Paul. He’s a nice young man, and all that, but maybe he’s been rushing you too much. This break will give him time to cool his heels.”

  Her mother agreed. “After all, darling, you’re only twenty-one. I was twenty-four when I married your father, and we’d known one another for five years. You’ve barely known Paul a year. Give it a little longer. Go with Samantha, and then when you come home you may have a more definite viewpoint.”

  “Well,” Julie smiled, “I felt sure you would consider the idea just a madcap scheme. You never fail to surprise me. Do you honestly think I’ll be able to take care of Tony? I mean, I’ve had no practical experience with babies.”

  Her father laughed. “My dear girl, every new mother that delivers has had no experience with babies. Unless, of course, they were nursery nurses or something of that nature. You’ll soon find the knack, and besides, I’m sure Samantha has enough of the motherly instinct not to want you to do everything for him.”