'Not your type?' Roz glared up at him with frustration. 'I don't believe it. She lived with you, and, what's more, she turned a blind eye to your other women. Yes,' she said it with satisfaction and viciously, 'I know about those as well, I could name every one. All I can say is that your Margery has a very forgiving nature. Each time you'd finished with your tomcat on the tiles act, she took you back. You should have married her.' The last words came out on a sob.
'Roz,' the hard grip on her arms relaxed, but his weight still held her, 'I could strangle you! Lie still!' as she started to wriggle furiously. 'I'll tell you about Marge and you'll listen, because I'll only tell you the once. Are you going to listen?'
'I can't do much else,' she muttered sulkily.
'As I said, Marge and I were together in the orphanage. She was a funny little thing and she used to come running to me when she'd hurt herself or when one of the big boys she admired so much had pulled her hair or pushed her over.'
'For comfort, I suppose?' There was a world of sarcasm in her voice.
'Yes, for comfort. She was only about four. Who did you run to for comfort, Roz—your mother? Marge and I weren't so lucky, remember. But as soon as she was better, off she went again. She had a thing about big, blond types like your brother-in-law and she's a rotten picker; they either let her down or knock her about.'
'She lived with you for five years.' Roz refused to be mollified.
'Correction, darling,' his hand slid to her waist and held it firmly, 'she lived in my house, to our mutual advantage.'
'That's what I said,' she interrupted, 'only I wasn't so mealy-mouthed about…'
'Be quiet!' His mouth found hers and cut off the interruption. 'I said I'll only explain once. She left the orphanage the same year I did and went to work in an office, rooming with some other girls. Everything went well for a couple of years, she found a man, another big blond, and eventually they were married. He was in the Merchant Navy and the jealous type. When he came home, he used to beat her up to make her confess who she'd been having while he was away. It got to the stage where she was telling him anything to stop being knocked about, and she got out and filed for a divorce. I fixed up another job for her in another office and I thought she'd learned her lesson—but no, the boss in the office was just her type and,' his lips twisted in derision, 'he had an advantage. He had a wife who didn't understand him.'
'As I don't understand you!'
'Don't interrupt,' and Charles placed his hand over her mouth to enforce the command. 'Everything was quiet, I was busy trying to break into the big time; I didn't have much time to spare for anybody, and while this was going on Marge had let the fellow move her into a nice little flat which he shared with her during the week. At weekends, he went home to his wife and family. He told her that he was going to get a divorce and marry her, and Marge believed him. She went on believing him for years, apparently he was very plausible, until Marge discovered she was going to have a baby and then, goodbye lover boy! He was back with his wife and an aura of domestic felicity within the hour. Are you still listening?' he asked with a searching look at her face.
'Mmm, I can't do anything else.' She was still mutinous.
'Marge phoned me when she came out of hospital. She'd lost the baby, she was ill, too ill to work, she owed a month's rent on the flat and the landlady was threatening to turn her out and she was flat broke, so I went round straight away and collected her and her things and brought her back to my place.'
'And the mutual advantage?' Roz wasn't convinced.
Charles chuckled reminiscently. 'I'd been doing some shots of a new model when the phone rang; she was only a young girl, a beauty queen or something, and she was full of ambition. I finished off the shots and grabbed my coat, telling her to let herself out and slam the door behind her. When I got back with Marge, I took her into my bedroom to show her where she could sleep for the night. I was going to doss down on the divan in the lounge, and there was the little…' he choked back an uncomplimentary epithet, substituting 'beauty queen' in its stead.
'In your bed.' Roz was overcome by a wild desire to giggle.
'Not in it, on it, and without a stitch on. Somebody had told her that the way to success was via the photographer's bed. I got out quickly and left Marge to deal with the girl.'
'Coward!' This time the giggle would not be stifled.
'Maybe,' he was grim, 'but I was taking no chances. Marge stayed on as secretary-cum-chaperon, it was safer for me that way. There's another fellow in the offing now, but her love life's gone sour on her again. The man's turned out to be another married man with a wife who doesn't understand him. That's why she was crying on my shoulder. But that's enough about Marge—isn't it time we had some breakfast?'
'It's not enough about Marge,' Roz protested. 'Is she going to be crying on your shoulder for the rest of her life?'
'No, my heart, on yours,' he said promptly. 'I'm delegating the responsibility. Next time her love life gets into a knot, you shall cope with it. Satisfied?'
'You've never said you love me,' she mourned.
'Love you? Don't be an idiot, Roz. I don't just love you, I adore you. I could exist without you, but it wouldn't be living. I loved you from the moment you came into the studio for the first time. You were perfect, did you know? Hair, skin, face, body, legs; I was so full of lechery, I could hardly talk to you. The way you walked, the way you held your head—I wanted you then; but there were memories, a shadow in your eyes. You didn't really see me, you were lost in a sad little dream. I tried, you know I tried—but you wouldn't.' He kissed her again and her heart leapt to meet the beat of his. 'The last time you came, the shadow was deeper. I thought it was time you stopped grieving over the past, so I made a play for you in earnest. The response was so much more than I'd hoped for!'
'And you followed me down here, you lied, you cheated… How did you know I'd be here this time?'
'I didn't, but, with hindsight, there wasn't anywhere else you could be. I looked in the bureau when I couldn't find you, you'd left your wallet and your cheque book behind. When your sister phoned, I thought it was the police or a hospital…'
'Eve phoned…'
'…From New York at two o'clock this morning. She'd forgotten the time lag, she thought she'd catch us just after dinner. I asked her where you'd go and she said "Home, of course". Is this still home to you, Roz?'
'No,' her face became grave and her eyes misted, 'home's where you are.'
'And I need feeding,' Charles prompted gently. 'It's nearly noon. Don't you want anything?'
'I want a baby,' she said dreamily. 'I don't want to wait for years and years.'
Charles threw back the duvet and slid out of bed and she watched him pull his pants up over his lean hips. He leaned down and kissed her mouth. 'I'll redouble my efforts,' he promised. 'After I've been fed!'
Tame a Proud Heart Page 15
