Roses and Champange

by Neels, Betty

  She said urgently: ‘Lucius, do we have to have it? I mean, you don’t have to explain. I know our engagement is phoney because it seemed the right thing to do at the time, but you must want to be free...and you don’t have to explain. You can have your ring back and I’ll tell everyone that we’re not—not compatible or something...’

  ‘You think that? You really think that?’ His smile mocked her. ‘Let me tell you something, darling Katie. We’re very compatible; we both love the country, love village life, riding, dogs, cats, organising the village jumble sale, having small dinner parties for our friends...’

  She interrupted him: ‘All right, then I’ll think of something else. I’ll fall in love with someone else...’ She stopped, her eyes wide, colour flooding her face. ‘Don’t think I’m in love with you,’ she said fiercely, ‘but you know what I mean.’

  Lucius was lounging back in his chair, his eyes half closed. ‘Yes, I know,’ he said placidly. ‘Katie, must you delve so deep? Could you not accept things as they are—as they’re meant to be? We’ve been friends for so long that you only see me in that light, don’t you? Will you try and think of me as a husband? You do, after all, wear my ring.’

  ‘But that was pretence, so that everyone would think—you did it to scotch Virginia’s nonsense.’

  ‘Indeed yes, but that was not the only reason.’ Lucius leaned forward and took her hands in his. ‘Listen to me. I won’t say another word until we get home, but until then will you stop thinking of me as an old friend and think instead of me as a man you’ve just met who’s taken a fancy to you?’ He released her hands and lounged back once more. ‘We’d better go shopping tomorrow and see what we can find to take back with us, and I must see about the wreckage of the car we hired. Won’t it be pleasant to sleep in a bed again?’

  Katrina answered him at random. What exactly had he meant? That he had fallen a little in love with her? That marrying her might be convenient to them both? She hoped that it was the former—but he had never made any pretence of being in love with her. There could be a worse fate than marrying someone you had known since childhood, she supposed. You would know each other, faults and all, for a start, but how would she ever go on pretending she was just a good friend when she was head over heels in love with him? She gave up worrying about it and instead discussed the purchase of gifts that they would have to take back with them.

  They spent the next day amicably enough, searching out suitable presents, watching the guard outside what had been the Royal Palace, strolling in the Royal Gardens and drinking coffee in the sunshine. And because it was their last night in Athens, they went out to dinner, taking a taxi to one of the restaurants along the coast towards Sounion. They stayed late, driving back after midnight and arranging to meet at the hotel swimming pool in the morning.

  There was no one else there when Katrina reached the pool the following morning, only Lucius, tearing up and down its length. She slid in from the shallow end and began a rather sedate progress towards the other end. He passed her several times on the way, calling a cheerful good morning, and presently, after swimming the length of the pool twice, she got out and left him there, calling that she would see him at breakfast.

  She dressed without haste, packed her case and went to the sitting room. He was already there, lying back in a chair, his feet on a convenient table, reading a newspaper. ‘I’ve packed,’ she told him smugly.

  ‘Clever girl! We don’t leave until two o’clock. I thought we might have a last coffee in the square before lunch. Unless you want to go sight seeing.’

  She said seriously: ‘Haven’t we seen everything?’ and at his amused look: ‘No, I daresay we haven’t. But coffee and doing nothing sounds nice.’

  They spent a pleasant morning, strolling along wherever the mood took them before going back to the hotel for lunch before they packed their final things and drove to the airport. It seemed a good deal longer than two weeks since they had arrived, but that was because so much had happened. Katrina settled herself into the window seat, fastened her seatbelt and opened the magazine Lucius had bought her. The plane was half empty and they had the first class compartment to themselves. She read the magazine thoroughly from cover to cover, accepted her tea tray and made no attempt to talk to Lucius. She knew that he disliked chatter; besides, he was deep in a dull-looking book about law. There was no cloud today; she watched the fields and towns and villages sliding away beneath them; it was like looking through the wrong end of a telescope, and after a while it got dull. She closed her eyes and pretended sleep until Lucius leaned over to fasten her seatbelt and they landed at Heathrow.

  They went through the routine of collecting luggage, passports, Customs, and emerged finally to find that the car was outside. Katrina got in thankfully while Lucius paid off the garage hand who had brought it. It was dark now and cold, and she was glad of her coat and the comfort of the car.

  ‘We’ll stop somewhere and eat,’ said Lucius, getting in beside her. ‘Will there be anyone waiting up at your place?’

  ‘I told Lovelace it would be late evening when we got back and he never goes to bed before eleven o’clock.’

  ‘We’ll be home by then.’

  There wasn’t a great deal of traffic on the roads, and in no time at all they were in Oxford. Lucius stopped at the end of the High Street and ushered her into La Sorbonne, to be greeted by the proprietor and given a table in a corner and the instant attention of the wine waiter, it was nice to sip sherry again, thought Katrina, trying to decide between steak with mushrooms and chicken a la creme; she settled for the steak followed by crSpes Suzette and drank the claret Lucius chose. It was all very cosy and pleasant, with the cold January night shut out securely, and the prospect of sleeping in her own bed.

  It was half past eleven as Lucius turned the car into the drive and stopped in front of her own door. There was a light in the hall and Lovelace was there, ushering them inside almost before they could get out of the car.

  ‘Welcome back, Miss Katrina, and you, Mr Lucius. There’s coffee and drinks in the sitting room. I’ll see to the luggage, sir.’

  There was a fire still burning and a tray with the coffee on a small table by it. Katrina shed her coat, tossed her gloves and handbag on to a chair and sat down. ‘How nice! Lucius, put your coat on a chair and come by the fire; have some coffee before you go.’ She turned to Lovelace as he came into the room with a plate of sandwiches. ‘Is everything all right, Lovelace—any news?’

  ‘Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow, Miss Katrina. Miss Virginia and Mr Lovell are back. She telephoned to know when you would be returning.’

  ‘Oh, good. I expect they’ll be over tomorrow. Don’t stay up, Lovelace, I’ll bolt the door. You must be tired. The coffee is lovely.’

  Lovelace smiled. ‘We’ve all missed you, Miss Katrina—and I do hear that over at Stockley they are most anxious to see Mr Lucius back home.’

  He wished them both goodnight with dignity and went away, leaving them to drink their coffee and eat Mrs Beecham’s carefully made sandwiches. With her mouth inelegantly full, Katrina said: ‘It was a lovely holiday, Lucius. Thank you very much.’

  ‘But it’s nice to be home?’

  ‘Well, yes. But it really was super, and I’ll never forget it.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ll remember all the gods and temples and Byzantine churches...?’

  ‘Heavens, no—I meant the people we met and the glorious scenery and the villages.’ And you, she added silently.

  Lucius put down his cup and saucer and stood up. ‘Well, I’m going home now. Cobb mustn’t be kept up too late, he’s getting old. I’ll be over tomorrow, sometime.’

  Katrina got to her feet and walked with him into the hall and stood there while he put on his coat and went to the door, but he came back again.

  ‘The only thing that I really remember is you,’ he told her softly. ‘You beat the Greek goddesses into cocked hats.’ He bent and kissed her very gently and then
again, not gently at all. His goodnight echoed from the door as he closed it behind him.

  Katrina stood still, wishing with all her heart that he would come back and kiss her again like that, but he didn’t, and presently she bolted the door and went up to bed with Bouncer in close attendance, to lie awake and wonder.

  What with the long journey and rather a sleepless night, Katrina didn’t look her best in the morning, and to make matters worse Lucius rang to say that he was going up to London and wouldn’t be back until the late evening. She spent an hour with Mrs Beecham in the kitchen, went through her post and, well wrapped up against the cold damp day, took Bouncer for a long walk. When she got back it was to find Virginia sprawled in front of the sitting room fire.

  Virginia looked marvellous; tanned and sparkling, dressed unsuitably but glamorously in suede and fur. She eyed Katrina, surprisingly critically. ‘Well, you don’t show much result from your two weeks in Greece, do you?’ was her greeting. ‘What on earth have you done to yourself?’

  Katrina rang for coffee and sat down by the fire. ‘It’s cold out,’ she said mildly. ‘You’re looking super, Virginia. Did you have a good honeymoon?’

  ‘Lord, yes—all that sun, and James bought me more clothes than I’ll ever wear. I’m on my way to town now to pick up a dress that had to be altered.’

  ‘Back this evening?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Mother-in-law’s giving some dreary dinner party we’ll have to go to. What did you do in Greece?’

  ‘Looked at ruins.’

  ‘God, how dreary! Where is Lucius?’

  ‘In London for the day.’ Katrina got up to pour the coffee. ‘You must both come over for dinner soon.’

  Virginia took her cup. ‘Still wearing the ring, I see. Don’t tell me he’s serious?’ She sounded so astonished that Katrina said rather sharply:

  ‘Well, you were the first to say so, weren’t you?’ and then, ‘Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to snap, but I didn’t sleep very well, I was too tired.’

  Virginia drank her coffee and got up. ‘Well, I’m off. I’m having lunch in town so I can leave before the rush hour. I’ll give you a ring.’

  She roared away, going much too fast as she always did, and Katrina went back to the fire to drink another cup of coffee before starting on her letter writing.

  The grey skies of the morning turned greyer and presently it began to sleet. She had finished her letters by mid-afternoon, wrapped up the book cover she intended to take up to London within the next few days, and was pouring her first cup of tea when she heard the front door opened and light footsteps in the hall. Virginia, unexpectedly back.

  ‘Just in time for tea,’ she observed cheerfully. ‘What a beastly afternoon! Did you have a good trip?’ She turned to take a cup and saucer Lovelace had brought and looked across at her sister.

  Virginia had thrown her coat over a chair and curled up in an armchair by the fire. Til have a cup of tea but nothing else. I ought to be home, but I simply had to call in on the way. There’s something you ought to know.’

  Katrina studied her sister’s lovely face: it bore a look of excited anticipation, like a small girl bursting to tell a secret. She smiled. ‘Do tell, darling.’

  ‘I was coming out of Harrods and I had to wait in the porch for a bit because it was raining, and who do you think I saw?’ And as Katrina didn’t speak: ‘Lucius—with a girl, a stunning creature. He had an arm round her shoulders and she was looking up at him...’ Virginia smirked: ‘You know—all soft and adoring. He stopped a taxi and put her into it and kissed her.’ She added: ‘He didn’t see me.’

  Katrina’s mouth had gone dry, all the same she managed a perfectly normal voice. ‘What of it, love? She’s not the first girl he’s kissed, and why shouldn’t he if he wants to?’

  ‘He is engaged to you, isn’t he? Even if the whole thing is phoney—and I bet you cooked it up between you just to spite me—but everyone thinks you’re going to get married.’ She added huffily: ‘You don’t have to believe me, of course.’

  ‘Of course I believe you, but why all the fuss?’

  Virginia got to her feet. ‘I must go home. You’re in love with him, aren’t you? And I suppose you think I’d not noticed that. Take my advice and do something about it.’

  ‘Why should I?’ Katrina managed a cool voice, only faintly interested. ‘Give my love to James and his mother, won’t you? We must fix a date for dinner one evening.’

  Virginia shot her a bad-tempered look and flounced out of the room. Katrina heard her voice in the hall, speaking with unwonted sharpness to Lovelace.

  She was half way through her solitary dinner when Lucius arrived. Lovelace followed him in, ready to lay a place at table for him, but he said: ‘No, I can’t stop, Katie, I’m late back as it is. Have you had a good day?’

  She had made up her mind to ignore Virginia’s gossip, all the same her voice came out a little stiff. ‘Yes, quite busy, really.’ She examined the dinner on her plate and avoided his eye. ‘What was London like?’

  ‘Horrible! Shall we go riding tomorrow?’

  She said a little too quickly: ‘Oh, I can’t—I’ve an appointment at the publishers.’

  He looked at her. His eyes narrowed. ‘Not wasting much time, are you? Or have you got an unexpected commission?’

  ‘Yes—yes, that’s it.’ She went on rather feverishly, because she was a poor liar. ‘It will be nice to have something to do.’

  Lucius strolled to the door. ‘No, don’t get up, I’ll see myself out.’ He paused, his hand on the door handle. ‘Have you seen Virginia?’

  ‘She came over this morning and—and she popped in on her way home early this evening.’ She looked quickly at him and away again. ‘She looks terrific.’

  Lucius didn’t say anything, only nodded to her as he went.

  Katrina would have to go up to London now, she decided. It was bad enough having to lie like that, the least she could do was to turn it into some kind of truth. And probably there would be some work waiting for her.

  She left early and when she got to London went straight to the publishers, glad to find that there was in fact another book jacket for her to design. Now if Lucius wanted concrete evidence of her visit, she could produce it. Not that he would ask. For as long as she could remember he had never once doubted her word. She had coffee with the publisher, agreed on a delivery date, and went back to her car. Since she was in town she might as well have lunch and look for a pair of shoes to replace the pair she had ruined in Greece. She parked the car, had an early lunch at a small restaurant close by Old Bond Street

  , and set off to scrutinize the shoe shops. She found what she wanted without much trouble, and started back towards the car, trying to decide if she should go home at once or stay another hour or so, have tea and get home in the evening. She was standing on the corner of Conduit Street

  and Bond Street

  waiting to cross the road when she saw Lucius, he was coming out of the Westbury Hotel and hanging on his arm was a slim fair-haired girl. They walked away from her, along Conduit Street

  , deep in talk.

  Katrina stood staring after them until an impatient woman behind her gave her a shove so that she had to cross the street. But there she stopped again, oblivious of people rushing past her, giving her irritable glances. Lucius and his companion were almost out of sight, but they were standing still now, still talking, and Lucius’s arm was around the girl’s shoulders. Ka-trina drew a long breath and turned into Bond Street

  , back towards the car. She very much wanted to run after them and ask who the girl was and why they were there, together, and although her feet took her away from them at every step, her mind was still with them. It stayed that way as she drove back to Tew, put the car away, pushed food around her plate at dinner and then went to sit by the fire with Bouncer. Virginia had been right, after all. The small vague hope that Lucius was beginning to fall just a little in love with her, born of his kiss and the things he had said
when he had brought her home two days ago, withered slowly. She must make an end of the business, give him back his ring and let the gossip have its head for a few days. She supposed she would have to give some reason, however paltry, so it could be done in a friendly way. They had always been friends, she thought wistfully, so deep in thought that she didn’t hear Lucius’s quiet entry and quieter voice in the hall. He was in the room, walking towards her before she knew that he was there.

  His ‘Hullo’ was exactly as usual, and he was smiling. But then he stopped, his eyes on her face. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked sharply.

  Katrina said, not mincing her words: ‘I was in London today. I saw you there, you were with a girl—it was outside the Westbury. When Virginia came yesterday she told me she’d seen you with her and I—I thought she was just being—well, trying to make trouble and I told her I didn’t believe her...’

  His eyes were cold, his voice colder. ‘And you believe her now?’

  ‘Well, I saw you!’ Her voice, despite her best efforts, had become a little shrill.

  ‘And what does that prove?’ He asked the question silkily, but she ignored the mockery in his face and went on quickly: ‘You said you’d decided to—to marry, that this engagement of ours was just to put an end to Virginia’s silly tale, and it’s ridiculous to go on like this, pretending.’ She gulped back threatening tears. ‘Here’s your ring, thank you for letting me wear it. I’ll tell everyone I’ve changed my mind.’ She held it out and he took it without a word, and when she peeped at his face she saw that he was very angry indeed. He had a nasty temper which he had learned to hide under an icy manner which was far worse than an explosion of rage, but that didn’t worry her overmuch, she had known him too long. She made one last effort. ‘We’ll still be friends?’

  He was leaning against a table, tossing the ring up and down with one hand. ‘What makes you think that, my dear?’

  He had gone before she could reply.

  Katrina went to bed after that and had a good cry in her room, sniffing and spluttering in a manner reminiscent of her childhood. But she felt a little better, and presently, worn out with unhappiness, she slept.