A Multitude of Sins

by Margaret Pemberton

  She hugged her arms tightly around her body as if she were suddenly cold. It was strange how supportive Raefe had been over her addiction. There were times when she could almost believe that, if it hadn’t been for her unfaithfulness, her addiction alone would not have wrecked their marriage. He had no love left for her, but he had loyalty, and she knew now that as long as she had deserved that there would have been no other women, no talk of divorce. He would have been scrupulously fair to her, and even now, even after Jacko, he was still more understanding than anyone else she knew.

  The throb of a car engine cut through the fog, and she glanced quickly at her wristwatch. There was another hour and forty minutes before Huang put her out of her misery. The prospect of enduring her father’s anxious company for that length of time, and perhaps longer if she couldn’t get rid of him, filled her with horror. She could hear one of the houseboys opening the door to him and low voices in the entrance-hall. She took a deep steadying breath, wiped a trickle of perspiration from her forehead, and turned with a false smile to greet him.

  It wasn’t her father. It was Raefe. ‘Kwan thinks your father is on his way here,’ he said, striding into the room and immediately filling it with his presence. ‘Which means we won’t be able to talk.’

  He slung his jacket on to a chair, his silk shirt open at the throat, his glossy black hair curling indecently low over the collar. She felt her throat constrict. God damn it, but he could still arouse feelings in her that no other man aroused. Only the knowledge that those feelings were no longer reciprocated prevented her from attempting charm on him. She had been a lot of things – a whore and a fool – but she still had a remnant of pride and would be damned before she showed a man who no longer desired her that she was still enthralled by him.

  ‘He telephoned ten minutes ago,’ she said curtly. ‘Derry must have told him I was here.’

  Raefe poured himself a Scotch and soda and gave his wife a long assessing look. For three months she had survived on a carefully regulated dosage of heroin, and she had coped with the situation far better than he had thought she would. Drug addiction was no picnic, and his rage at her stupidity in first falling prey to it was compounded by his pity for the suffering it was causing her. He said abruptly: ‘You’d better go and see Huang. If your father arrives in the next half-hour, I’ll tell him you’re resting with a headache.’

  Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. ‘Thank you,’ she said thickly, and then, in despair; ‘Bloody, bloody hell! Is it always going to be so bad, Raefe? Is it never going to get better?’

  She looked very small, and very defenceless. For the hundredth time he wished Paul Williams into the darkest depths of a tormented hell. ‘No,’ he said gruffly, and to his surprise, and hers, he took her gently into his arms and held her trembling body close to his. ‘It won’t always be so bad, Melissa. You aren’t aware of it, but it’s getting better every week. You’re on less than half the amount you used to be. Another three months and you’ll be free of it.’

  ‘But I won’t!’ she cried desperately. ‘I still want more, Raefe. God in heaven, I need more.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’ His voice was firm, his jaw hard as he looked down into her frightened face. ‘Three months ago you didn’t even want to be cured. You do now, and it’s more than half the battle.’

  She began to cry, and his arms tightened around her, his voice deepening.

  ‘I never said it would be easy, Melly. But it is possible. Trust me.’

  At the diminutive use of her name, which she had not heard on his lips for over a year, she looked up into his strong face and wondered how she could have ever been such a fool as to have lost his love. ‘I do trust you,’ she said with childish simplicity.

  He released his hold of her, and she walked unsteadily over to the door. She no longer had any bad trips on the heroin that Raefe obtained for her, but she still felt obscenely disorientated. ‘Have you thought any more about when I can return to London?’ she asked hesitantly, pausing at the door.

  ‘Not yet, Melly. Not until there is no more need of Huang. Besides,’ he said, as he saw the disappointment flare through her eyes, ‘London isn’t the best place in the world to be at the moment. Blackouts, gas-masks, the nightly waiting for Hitler‘s bombs. You’re better off in Hong Kong.’

  ‘And the divorce?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘Won’t our appearing together in public prejudice it?’

  If she had hoped that he would say that the divorce was no longer important, she was disappointed. ‘No,’ he said unequivocally. ‘We’re not sharing the same roof, and I damn well won’t let anything prejudice it. There’s no need to worry on that score.’

  She looked at him curiously. She had never been able to understand him, never known what he was thinking. She said with a puzzled frown: ‘What will you do when we are divorced?’

  He grinned at her. The last few moments were the closest they had been in years. ‘Marry again,’ he said succinctly.

  Her cornflower-blue eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Who?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Surely not the little Chinese girl?’

  The amusement in his eyes faded, and another expression took its place. An expression of such fierce intent that Melissa felt the jealousy she thought she had tamed surge through her once again. ‘No,’ he said, his voice clipped. ‘Not Alute.’

  ‘A European? Someone we know?’

  The moment of closeness was coming to an end. He didn’t want to talk to Melissa about Elizabeth. Not yet. Not until Elizabeth had left her husband. He had the irrational superstition that if he talked of it to Melissa fate would intervene and it would never come to pass. He said only: ‘Yes, a European.’

  She saw the tight lines around his mouth, the harsh set of his jaw, and said with sudden insight; ‘She’s married, isn’t she?’

  A nerve jumped at the corner of his jaw. ‘You’d better go to Huang,’ he said, his thoughts no longer on her and her proposed return to England, but on Elizabeth. ‘Your father will be here at any minute.’

  She knew there was no use in remaining. He had told her all that he was prepared to tell her. She hurried off in search of Huang, her mind working furiously. Who the devil could it be? She knew he had had a brief affair with Mark Hurley’s wife some months ago. Had the affair been resumed? And if it hadn’t? If it wasn’t the vivacious Mrs Hurley?

  ‘Huang,’ she called feverishly. ‘Huang!’

  There was Julienne Ledsham. She had always had an eye on Raefe, and the men Julienne Ledsham eyed nearly always succumbed. A wave of bitterness shot through her at the thought of another woman enjoying the wealth and comfort that was, by marital right, hers. Her nails dug deep into her palms. She damned well wouldn’t sink into drug-addicted poverty while Julienne Ledsham, or someone like her, lived royally as Mrs Raefe Elliot She would hold Raefe to his promise to provide generously for her. She would damn well free herself of her need for heroin. She would show them all just how strong the weak could be when they put their minds to it.

  The Gold and Green ball was held in the Rose Room at the Peninsula Hotel and was attended by the élite of Hong Kong society. Julienne looked magnificent, her red-gold curls framing her face like a halo, her gown of starkly simple white velvet chic and very, very French. The top was cut halter-fashion, the skirt falling in total perfection from her tiny waist to her white satin-clad feet.

  ‘I can’t wait to see Melissa again,’ she whispered to Ronnie as they greeted a crowd of friends and walked into the chandeliered splendour of the Pen’s ballroom.

  ‘Why? You were never bosom friends,’ Ronnie said in amusement ‘Do you think she’s going to have a placard around her neck, “Whore and Drug Addict”?’

  ‘Of course not silly,’ Julienne chided, squeezing his arm. ‘It’s just that I would like to see if her looks have been affected. It is a reasonable curiosity.’

  ‘It’s ghoulish,’ Ronnie said as the band began to play ‘It’s Only a Paper Moon’and he swung her out on to t
he floor in a pacy foxtrot. ‘For my part, I hope to God her looks haven’t been affected and that she’s kicked the habit. I always thought Melissa Elliot a remarkably pretty girl.’

  A tiny frown touched Julienne’s brows. ‘I do not think Melissa Elliot would be at all a good idea for you, chéri. I think, in fact, that it would make me quite unhappy.’

  He looked down into her heart-shaped face and her pansy-dark eyes and grinned. He liked it when he aroused her jealousy. It was such a hard feat to achieve. ‘Don’t worry about Melissa Elliot,’ he said, and for once he meant it. A woman with the kind of problems that beset Melissa was the last thing he wanted in his life. In fact, there were times lately when he wondered if he needed any women in his life. Apart from Juli. It was a thought that had made him wonder if he was ill at first, but to which over the last few weeks he had become accustomed. His only problem was how Juli would receive such an admission. If he began happily to practise monogamy, he would want Juli to do likewise. And Juli, he knew, was in the middle of a hectic affair.

  He looked around the crowded room. Who her present lover was he still wasn’t sure. If he asked her, she would tell him, but the discovering of the identities of their respective lovers was part of the game they played and to ask outright would be to cheat. His eyes flicked from group to group. Whoever he was, he would be here tonight. And when he saw him with Juli he would know him.

  ‘It’s a pity Elizabeth and Adam aren’t here tonight,’ Alastair said to Helena as he danced her with stiff and correct expertise around the top end of the room. ‘Adam enjoys full-blown affairs like this.’

  Helena, seeing Raefe Elliot’s distinctive dark head of hair, said drily: ‘I don’t think Elizabeth would have enjoyed this affair, darling. Have you seen who’s over there? And who he’s with?’

  Alastair looked obediently in the direction she was indicating, and his brows shot high. ‘Good God! He’s brought Melissa with him!’

  Helena, splendid in a gown of shot-green taffeta with huge puff sleeves and a skirt that crackled as she moved, said in amusement: ‘She is still his wife. And I imagine that, whatever her reasons for hiding away in the New Territories, it must be pretty boring after a while. She always did enjoy the bright lights.’

  ‘Yes, but.…’ Alastair struggled for words. ‘I mean, they are divorcing, aren’t they? There hasn’t been a reconciliation?’

  ‘Not that I know of,’ Helena said as they waltzed past the Elliots, who were in conversation with Major-General Edward Grassett, the General Officer Commanding British troops in China.

  As she spoke, Raefe’s eyes caught hers and his brows rose queryingly. She knew what he was intimating. Where the devil was Elizabeth? She lifted her shoulders in a barely perceptible shrug, indicating that she had no idea. He would find out eventually, no doubt, but not from her.

  ‘Raefe Elliot is quite capable of finding happiness with a woman other than Elizabeth,’ she said to Alastair as they danced out of his sight. ‘But Adam Harland isn’t.’

  ‘And is that where your sympathy lies?’ Alastair asked, aware that for the first time in his life, with Helena in his arms, he was actually enjoying dancing.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Helena said with a warmth that took him by surprise. ‘My sympathy is most definitely with Adam. He’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever met.’

  ‘Melissa Elliot looks no different now than she did a year ago,’ Ronnie said to Julienne as the music came to an end and they walked from the floor. ‘The only thing that’s wrong with her is that she’s too thin.’

  ‘Silly,’ Julienne said, amused. ‘A woman can’t be too thin!’ She eyed Melissa appraisingly. She had always dressed well, with a flair more French than English. Her dress of shimmering blue silk emphasized the startling colour of her eyes, the neckline was softly cowled, the sleeves discreetly long, the back plunging spectacularly to her waist and a nestling gardenia.

  ‘She is still very, very pretty, isn’t she?’ she whispered to Ronnie as they approached her. Her hair, golden blonde and sleek, was waved close to her head, skimming her ears, revealing tiny drop pearl earrings.

  She was, but Ronnie still felt no desire to deepen his acquaintance with her. Women like Melissa Elliot were nothing but trouble and best given a wide berth. He tried to steer Julienne in another direction, but it was too late. She was already kissing Melissa effusively on the cheek.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you again,’ she was saying, and there was no note of falseness in her voice. She was pleased to see Melissa again. The thought of any woman being cooped up in the New Territories with no opportunity for fun or gossip or dancing was anathema to her.

  Melissa was momentarily disconcerted, looking quickly from Julienne to Raefe. There was nothing on either of their faces to indicate that they were playing out a charade and were, in fact, lovers who wished to marry as soon as it was possible.

  ‘It’s nice to be back,’ she said cautiously. ‘Nothing much changes, though, does it? I can’t see any new faces; just the same old crowd.’

  Julienne wondered if she knew about Elizabeth and hoped Ronnie wouldn’t be so unfeeling as to mention the newly arrived Harlands.

  ‘One thing that hasn’t changed is Miriam Gresby’s dress sense,’ she said naughtily. ‘Have you seen her? She looks as though she is wearing a converted barrage balloon!’

  Melissa began to laugh, and Ronnie glanced at Raefe and saw that his attention was focused fiercely on Julienne. It was obvious that he wanted to speak to her away from Melissa, and Ronnie could well imagine what it was he wanted to speak to her about. It was three days since Elizabeth and Adam had left Hong Kong, and Raefe obviously wanted to know where the devil she was.

  The band launched into a quickstep, and he turned towards Melissa. ‘Would you like to dance?’ he asked gallantly.

  ‘Very much,’ Melissa said, stepping away from Raefe and towards him. There had been no dancing at all in the New Territories, and she had noticed the instant they had entered the ballroom that most men were steering clear of her, disconcerted by Raefe’s presence at her side, the scandal of the trial still fresh in their minds.

  The second they had gone, Raefe said fiercely; ‘Where the hell is she?’

  His white dinner-jacket flattered his dark good-looks magnificently. There was a raw edge to his voice that sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. Not for the first time she wished that it was she who obsessed his thoughts and not Elizabeth.

  She hesitated, feeling a surge of erotic pleasure at the temporary power she wielded over him. His voice took on a hint of menace, his eyes narrowing threateningly. ‘For God’s sake, Julienne,’ he rasped through clenched teeth, ‘where is she?’

  Her pleasure could be prolonged no longer. If she didn’t tell him, he was quite capable of laying violent hands on her. ‘Singapore,’ she said, noting how tense his powerful shoulders were beneath the exquisite cut of his dinner-jacket. ‘They left on Wednesday morning aboard the Blantyre Castle.‘

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Blantyre Castle steamed languorously through the South China Sea towards Singapore, and Elizabeth tried to retrieve the peace of mind that Raefe Elliot had so disastrously destroyed.

  She had hoped that the voyage would give her a chance to reaffirm her love for Adam, to show him physically how very much she loved him. Her hopes had been dashed when, on their first night at sea, Adam had complained of a severe head-cold. He had taken himself to bed alone with a hot brandy and lemon, and she had been ashamed of the relief she had felt. However sincere her intentions, she knew that it was not possible to re-create with Adam the passion she had experienced with Raefe.

  Whatever explosive ingredient existed between herself and Raefe Elliot, it did not exist between herself and Adam, and never had done. They were friends, gentle lovers with a wealth of shared and treasured memories behind them; and as Adam began to feel better, and they strolled the decks hand in hand, she realized with thankfulness that her passion for Raefe had not altered her
feelings for Adam in any way. They played deck quoits and tennis, they danced together in the evenings, and incredibly it was as if nothing had changed between them. With utter certainty she knew that nothing would. Not if she were strong. Adam had a right to her companionship and the quiet love she felt for him, and he would have both for as long as he wanted. That part of her life was the same and had no connection with the sexual madness that had erupted between herself and Raefe Elliot.

  Memories of their fevered lovemaking on the beach rose up to torment her constantly, and she ruthlessly subdued them. It was over. Her true nature had been revealed to her, but for Adam’s sake she would never succumb to that animal-like hunger again. She had turned her back on Raefe Elliot, both metaphorically and physically. She would not capitulate to him again, and the memory of how she had capitulated, her frenzied, lascivious eagerness, filled her with mortification. She slid her arm through Adam’s, hugging it tight for reassurance. Raefe Elliot was a thousand miles away and, no matter how Adam urged her to return to Hong Kong, she would not do so. Not until she had rooted out and killed her carnal desire for Raefe, until she could meet him and be as indifferent to him as she was to Tom Nicholson or Ronnie Ledsham.

  ‘Penny for them, darling,’ Adam said, smiling across to her as they leaned on the deck-rails watching a school of flying fish.

  A flush of colour touched her cheeks. ‘I was wondering if Singapore will be much different from Hong Kong,’ she lied, her eyes remaining resolutely on the fish.

  ‘I imagine so. It’s all South-East Asia, isn’t it? There’ll be the same polyglot mix, the same heat and the same sort of smells. Sweet spices, dried fish, frangipani. The smell of the tropics. It’s never far away, even on board ship.’