Spellbound

by Margaret Way

  'I'll certainly try.'

  'Thomas wanted to speak to you.'

  'Really? An ex-ballerina?'

  'Oh, never mind, then,' he said violently. 'You're determined to write yourself off and you're going to be damned unhappy while you're doing it.'

  'Do you want to say any more?' Lucie asked politely.

  'You're a fool.'

  'Goodbye, Julian,' she said, after she had hung up. 'He was there tonight beside me,' she told Jessie, her violet eyes suddenly welling with tears. 'For the first time in a long time I felt almost normal, not damaged. I actually forgot myself.'

  'Then what happened?' Jessie asked sadly.

  'Just a little thing. Julian sent Camilla flowers—a huge basket. It was the words more than anything.'

  She repeated them in an impassive voice, but Jessie heard them frowning.

  'One can be so wrong, Lucie. Did you actually recognise Julian's writing?'

  'Yes, it was Julian's. Bold and black.'

  'It doesn't sound like him,' Jessie said dubiously, 'considering all the agonising he does over you.'

  'Julian, agonising?' Lucie asked with a twisted smile. 'The most he has ever felt for me was desire.'

  Jessie clicked her tongue and shook her head but said nothing at all. What did she know of men, after all? They were absolute enigmas.

  A few days later, Joel's father invited her to lunch, and because it was obviously his intention to find out, Lucie explained the situation between Joel and herself.

  'I thought as much.' The pleasant expression on Grant Tennant's face dissolved into one of deepest regret. 'In any case, it wouldn't work out. Joel has nothing to offer you—anyway, at this stage. His mother has always given him so much attention the boy is spoiled rotten and utterly querulous when he doesn't get his own way.'

  'Your own son!' Lucie exclaimed sadly.

  'You know it's true, my dear. This will be the first time in his life Joel has ever been denied all he's wanted. And anyway, it's my fault. I should have been much firmer with Avril, but Joel was always her little boy, finer, more sensitive than either Gavin or myself. What he really needed was toughening up.'

  'But isn't he working well now?' Lucie asked quietly.

  Grant Tennant bit back an acerbic comment and merely said: 'No.'

  'I'm sorry. Sorry for you. Sorry for Joel.'

  'I can see that, my dear, in your shining eyes. Unfortunately he'll take it hard. So too will Avril. Apart from one other, you're the only girl she's ever deemed suitable for her son.'

  'And the other?'

  'May well win him.' Grant Tennant put his wine glass down abruptly. 'You've told Joel, have you?'

  'I have.' Lucie looked directly into the fine dark eyes. 'I hope he'll forgive me.'

  'What for? For being so beautiful?' Grant Tennant said gallantly. 'You were very good to try and help him when you did. After that—well, I'm afraid we all put the pressure on you. Leave it to me, my dear. I'll make the position quite clear to Joel. I know he can become difficult when he's thwarted.'

  Unpleasant as it was, Lucie knew it was necessary for Grant Tennant to speak to his son. Joel was not given to going away quietly.

  One more painful phone call where Joel started off very sweetly and finished off abusively, and Lucie heard no more. Later she learned from a mutual friend that Joel had been transferred to the Perth office of one of his father's companies, and her trembling heart remembered the words he had called her. Even now she recoiled from them to the extent that it was difficult to recall the good times she and Joel had shared together. Once they had both been so young and innocent, two other people. It was appalling how passions changed lives.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Weeks went by when Lucie had more modelling and photographic work than she could handle. It seemed she did nothing but get up early, dash around town all day mostly without lunch, stagger home late, then fall into bed so she would be fit enough to do the whole thing again the next day. Being beautiful was a bore, and too time-consuming. Some of the other girls were narcissistic to the point of adoring themselves, while others were frankly neurotic about diets. It took little or nothing to emaciate Lucie, and Jessie, regarding her almost breakable figure, was moved to protest.

  'Turn sideways, love, and I can't see you!'

  'Perhaps I'd better start having milk shakes,' suggested Lucie.

  'You'd better stop all this rushing around. The pace isn't good for you—even a young girl '

  The next week Lucie accepted an assignment in Tahiti and as Sarah went along on the trip, for a few days Lucie found time to relax. It was a glowing part of the world, bathed in an incredible light, and Lucie could well see how Gauguin had found such powerful inspiration.

  For the first time in her life she allowed her camellia white skin to turn palest gold. Dancers shunned sun- tans, but now it no longer mattered. She thanked God her demons left her alone save in sleep. She did not want to think of her old life, though this new one was not of her choosing. Had she had any choice?

  It was Sarah who read the article in the paper, clicking her tongue in distress.

  'Why, look here ' she caught Lucie's hand to gain her attention, 'Julian's mother's died!'

  'My—my God!'

  Sarah nodded and turned the paper around. 'Sophia Strasberg, one of the most illustrious ballerinas the world has ever known.. ..'

  Fragile Lucie seemed to shrink in her chair. 'She couldn't have been very old.'

  'Not old,' Sarah confirmed, her voice saddened. 'Fifty-three.'

  'Does it mention Julian?' Lucie couldn't bear to read the article at all.

  'Of course, quite a bit. He's in New York.'

  'Poor Julian!' Lucie whispered.

  'There's a lot more about the father—brilliant architect. Do you want me to read it?'

  'No.' Once Julian, so virile, so powerful, had been a lonely little boy. Probably at that time he had wanted an ordinary mother, one who would always be there with loving words and open arms. Was worship an adequate substitute for close communication?

  'Well, I'm sorry to hear that,' Sarah said. 'I really am. No wonder Julian is the phenomenon he is, with such a background. I suppose once he's home again his own world will call him. Few people as brilliant as Julian can resist the finest setting.'

  'I suppose not,' Lucie agreed quietly. 'The company would fall apart without him. No one has his command.'

  'Ah well, we can't sit around feeling miserable,' Sarah pushed up from the round table with its gaily patterned beach umbrella overhead. 'Van's got some sightseeing adventure lined up.' She threw back her head like a sunflower. 'My, isn't this sun glorious! You know you look fabulous with that tan—painting the lily, as it were. What do you think about Van's idea with that scuba gear?'

  Lucie wanted to cry, but couldn't. Time later when there was no one around to witness her emotion.

  But Julian did return and one of the women's magazines ran a splendidly put together feature about the life and career of a his beautiful mother. It overtook Lucie to the extent that she went back to her old teacher Patricia Lowe, ex-principal dancer with the Royal Ballet, who had returned to her own country to teach after retirement.

  'To do what, Lucie?' Patricia asked.

  'God knows.' Lucie tried to explain herself. 'It was that article about Sophia Strasberg that decided me. In her youth she had tremendous setbacks.'

  'She was magic,' Patricia said. 'A great star that only appears once in every hundred years. No one knows precisely what goes into making such magic. She was a wonderful technician, but there are others. She was beautiful, but plain girls providing they've got good eyes, can be beautiful made up. I saw her numerous times and in every role she was superb. The musicality, the acting! In as much as any of us can be perfect she was perfect. Have you seen Julian, by the way?'

  'No, not for some time.'

  'More fool you,' Patricia said not unkindly. 'I saw him as soon as he got back.'

  'Is he all right?'
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  'You know Julian,' Patricia moved her hand to her nape to smoothe her impeccable chignon. 'His deepest feelings he keeps very much to himself. I suppose he learned it in childhood, and lessons hard learned are never forgotten. Sophia was a goddess, but she was never cut out to be a mother. Julian was never denied anything material but it was rare for him to have his mother's company. His father's too, I'm sure. Both brilliant people leading intensely dedicated lives. I'm sure Julian must have suffered.'

  'He must have been upset?' Lucie asked vaguely.

  'All he said was, it's over. He spoke about you.'

  Lucie walked over to the barre and put her hand on it. 'What did he say?'

  'That you were a little fool. He was in fine lacerating form. He's convinced you have it in you to make a great dancer, and your trouble is more or less psychological and so on.'

  'That's what I've come back to find out.'

  'Then find out we shall,' Patricia promised. 'Whether your body can stand the strain remains to be seen, but we shall work on the assumption it can. You are an ex-dancer who's taken time off and must now get back to the disciplines of class. I don't anticipate any absences, Lucie. If you are serious, you'll have to rearrange your life.'

  Lucie nodded, her small oval face intensely dedicated and unafraid. 'I promise you, from tomorrow.'

  Patricia responded immediately, drawing herself up in the old attitude of authority. 'You were always my favourite anyway. I'm sure you're doing the right thing. Since Julian agrees with me I feel encouraged to start. I shall expect you here, come what may, at ten-thirty each morning. Afternoon classes will begin at two.'

  It was the evening of the same day, and Lucie sat on Julian's front steps waiting for him to come home. It was almost dark and there was no sign of him. Probably he wouldn't come home at all. She had been waiting, half hidden by flowering bushes, for the best part of an hour, wondering why she had come. Love, loneliness, a sincere desire to offer sympathy. Most likely he wanted nothing from her at all, no overture of any kind. Certainly not her love. She even had to consider he might be hostile. That was if he ever came.

  Ten minutes later she heard the unmistakable sound of the Porsche's engine and as she looked arund cautiously it swung up the drive and instead of heading for the garage made the semi-circle to the base of the stairs. ,

  Now that he was here, she was like a wild creature, staring this way and that for a possible line of flight.

  'Lucie!' The brilliant black eyes flashed up to her small figure.

  She rose from her childlike position, standing at the top of the short, broad flight of steps. 'I had to see you, Julian,' she said, staring at him with emotion- darkened eyes.

  'Now suddenly you have to see me—what's so urgent?' He slammed the car door and came towards her with the purposeful tread of a panther.

  All my love for you, she thought, but dared not mention.

  'Such a sad little face!' Now he was beside her, looking down at her.

  'I'm sorry, Julian, about your mother.'

  'Thank you.' He said it so grimly he looked almost sinister.

  'Do you want me to go away?' She half turned, helpless as always in his presence.

  'In a little while, perhaps,' he said coolly. 'You must forgive me, Lucie, I'm just so amazed to see you here.'

  'You've always mattered, Julian.'

  'But I'm too wicked for a beautiful innocent like you.'

  Lucie said nothing, and after a moment he opened the front door and stood back to allow her to go in.

  'I've seen your face a thousand times,' he murmured, his black eyes resting on her downbent head, the flushed cheeks. 'Airports, newspaper stands—it's difficult to shut you out.'

  'I don't think I can handle my new career,' she told him.

  'It seems like fate, doesn't it? Your not being able to handle anything.'

  'Julian ' She turned breathlessly, not realising he was so near her.

  'What is it now?' He looked unbearably arrogant.

  'Everything I want to say to you comes out the wrong way.'

  'Possibly this is the reason we don't get on.'

  'I went to see Patricia,' she told him.

  'Really?' This very politely. 'You prefer her to me?'

  'It was reading about your mother.'

  Julian shrugged his shoulders. 'The path to greatness, Lucie, is very steep. I don't think you've got it in you.' 'Certainly never like your mother.'

  'You know absolutely nothing about her.'

  'No.' It had been a waste of time coming. Julian could only make a woman suffer. Lucie lowered her head and linked her trembling fingers. 'You're very intolerant of me, aren't you, Julian?'

  'More nearly at the end of my tether.' His vibrant voice was full of self-mockery. 'Are you going to sit down?'

  'I don't think I should stay.'

  'You seem obsessed by the thought that something might happen to you,' he commented.

  'Not any more, you look too angry, unreachable.'

  'A pose I can't break, Lucie.' He said it in an odd, ironic voice. 'You're a compassionate little thing, I can see that. You've come here to offer sympathy?'

  'Yes.'

  'Think of that! You lock yourself away for weeks, and now you're going to extend mercy.'

  His defences were like a physical barrier. He was all pride and male arrogance, and he would forever turn the tables on her.

  'Now when it no longer matters, I can tell you I loved you,' she said quietly. 'But you won't allow yourself to be loved. I accept that.'

  'So I'm to lose you?' he asked with appalling mockery.

  'How can you lose what you never had?'

  'Oh, I had you,' he returned harshly, flickering lights in his dark eyes. 'I'll hear your little cry all the nights of my life.'

  'And I'm glad!' Her beautiful skin was suffused with colour. 'I'm glad you'll remember how you wounded me.'

  Julian muffled an oath and his fingers bit into the spare flesh of her side. 'What are words anyway? This is the only thing that really matters.'

  They came together with a yearning so violent it was agonising, discovering in each other a mutual need that was shattering. Julian's grip was powerful and crushing, his mouth consuming the cushioned sweetness of the lips beneath his.

  It was delirium, and Lucie knew if she went with it the same would happen as before; Julian's body on hers, his hands, his mouth arousing her so that they shared a pleasure to wonder at; greater than any pleasure she had ever known.

  'Please, Julian!' She flung herself back so violently he relaxed his hold. Another moment and there was nothing she would not give him.

  His voice was driven, beset by emotion. 'I want you so much it's agony.' His hand moved to her breast, palm circling, thumb teasing the aroused nipple. 'I've never known a woman I couldn't live without. It gives me no peace at all.'

  'And yet you're angry,' she said wonderingly. 'Think of it. You're angry because a mere woman has some dominion over you.'

  'I know if you left me I'd be all alone.'

  For Julian it was the greatest admission, and her breath caught. 'Then why do you fear what's in your own heart?'

  'My heart has never taken part in my love affairs for a very long time.' Julian made a harsh sound of self- derision and released her.

  'And Camilla?' she asked quietly.

  'Wonderful—we're going to talk about Camilla!' he mocked.

  'You called her your beauty and joy.'

  He looked at her startled, then laughed. 'Who did she tell that to, her hairdresser?'

  Lucie turned away. 'What happened—happens— between you and Camilla is nothing to do with me.'

  'Don't be stupid,' he said bluntly.

  'Tell me!' she begged.

  'Sorry, darling, I don't give a damn what you think. I've told you before, Camilla is ancient history, but you dbviously don't trust me. It's like that with women, I think. No trust. In my world there are women everywhere—beautiful, graceful women. A lot of them go
through some little dream cycle when they imagine they're in love with me. So it has to be trust.'

  'I've never lied to you,' she said, her face as vulnerable as a girl's could ever get.

  'Then I don't suppose you've had to. Oh, what the hell!' Frustration blazed in his brilliant eyes. 'The only reality I seem to know is when I have you in my arms. Everything else is all jangling words.' He flung himself into a chair with the arrogant grace Lucie half dreaded, half adored, staring up at her, wary and strangely aroused.

  'Listen,' she said lightly, 'why don't you see my psychiatrist?'

  'Bitch!'

  'Talk to him.' She wanted to go to him, sit in his lap, wind her arms around his neck, instead she held herself aloof, a small girl unaware of her own beauty.

  'And then as a matter of course I offer to marry you.

  God, wouldn't I have plenty of reason to go off my rocker then!'

  'But why?

  'Why?' His beautiful voice was jerky. 'My mind's not clear on the answer. You could make me suffer too easily. Women find a man's weaknesses and use them. And a woman you loved!’ His smouldering dark eyes gazed at her intently. 'You don't even know how beautiful you are, Lucie. I mean beautiful right through. You shine from the very depths of your being. No, don't look amazed, it's true. At the moment you're only a child, but you could be a big star. I remind you, not without me, but millions could come to idolise you.'