The Daughter of Night

by Jeneth Murrey

  'I thought we were going to have a house.' That was Katy being a bit disappointed as she looked around the immaculate suite. 'Somewhere I could have a dog.'

  'I'm sure we will,' Hester consoled as she unpacked Katy's suitcases and began to hang things away in the wardrobe. 'But finding the right house takes time. Your papa will arrange it.' If there was a slight note of bitterness in her voice, Katy didn't notice. 'He's very good at arranging things.'

  Demetrios didn't work in the hotel. 'Work,' he murmured as he slid reluctantly out of bed, 'and I'm a bit late. Ring down and have breakfast sent up, like a good girl.'

  'Ring yourself,' Hester muttered as she rolled over and buried her head in the pillows. 'This last week's been like being on a very fast merry-go-round! Everything's been a blur until it was time to get off and hey presto, we were right back where we started. I'm suffering from jet-lag. Where are you going anyway?'

  'To the offices.' A well-aimed slap connected with her rear and jerked her into life. 'I can't work here, there are no facilities and too many distractions.'

  'You need facilities?' She raised her eyebrows and pushed her hair out of her eyes. 'I thought all you tycoons snoozed in your padded chairs until lunchtime and played golf all afternoon.' While she said it, her mind was busy. In his absence, she could ring Crispin's to see if there was a message from Mia. Her foster-sister would have returned from Switzerland by now—they might even be able to arrange a meeting if Mia was on night duty or had a split shift—but there was Katy. She sighed. Problems, problems! Nothing was clean and clear-cut any more.

  Demetrios took the sigh to mean disappointment. 'Sorry, sweetheart—I'll meet you for lunch, that place off Shaftesbury Avenue where we first ate. You and Katy take a taxi and I'll book a table for half-past one.'

  Hester was disgruntled. She took a quick shower and dressed before breakfast arrived and contemplated, without enthusiasm, a morning with nothing to do except help Katy with the enormous jigsaw puzzle they had bought in the duty-free shop at the airport. Never before in her life—except when she had been on holiday, but that was different—had she been idle. Flo had always found work for idle hands— bedmaking, dusting, polishing, washing up and as a last resort, scrubbing something, but here—Hester gazed around the immaculate rooms and heaved a sigh of despair. There was nothing here, not even a decent book to read, unless she went back to Katy's store of Scottish period pieces.

  Demetrios picked up her discontent. 'Try shopping,' he advised, holding out his coffee cup for a refill. 'That's what most women seem to do when they find time hanging heavy. You can spend some of your ill-gotten gains…'

  'Hard-earned money,' she corrected, 'and when I think of it—do you realise what it works out at? You mentioned a period of ten to fourteen years—that's only just over a thousand a year. I think you've bought me cheap, considering most of it wasn't your money anyway.'

  'Put like that,' he smiled at her mockingly over the rim of his cup, 'you've got right on your side.' He drew out his wallet and selected a small sheaf of notes. 'Buy what you want, and there's some small change for taxis and the odd coffee and cake.'

  'Thanks,' she muttered ungraciously, then suffered his parting kiss, ordered a fresh breakfast for Katy and went to wake the child. Katy blinked and then came wide awake at once, disappointed because her father had left before she had had a chance to see or speak to him.

  'I wanted to ask him about the house.' She overcame her disappointment with an effort.

  'We're meeting him for lunch,' Hester comforted, 'after we've done a bit of shopping.' She rattled through the hangers in the wardrobe. Katy's clothes were good, plain and utterly unexciting. 'You need a few extra things, some warmer stuff for a start. It's colder here and we don't want you going down with a chill.'

  While Katy was having her breakfast, Hester went into the bedroom and made her telephone call from the bedside extension, her fingers drumming on the top of the cabinet as the other end rang and rang. It was Saturday morning, a busy time for Crispins, but surely… The ringing stopped and she heard a quiet, 'Crispins', at last and breathed a sigh of relief.

  'It's Hester,' she announced. 'Have you had any messages for me?'

  'Hester!' the receptionist squeaked with pleasure. 'Oh, it's nice to hear from you, we all thought you'd forgotten us or gone toffee-nosed—not being invited to the wedding, I mean…'

  'Messages,' Hester interrupted sternly. 'First things first and then we can have a gossip—but not too long, mind. You know how Crispin goes on about private phone calls.'

  'You haven't changed a bit,' the receptionist giggled, 'and yes, I took a message for you yesterday, from your sister. Hang on a moment while I look it up in my private book.' There was a rustle of paper and then, 'Oh yes, here it is, let's see if I can read my own writing—your sister—she said to tell you everything's all right so far and she's back in London, so will you either write, or phone the hospital. She's on Men's Surgical, but she's starting nights next week.'

  Hester felt delirious with relief. At the back of her mind, all through the last week, had been the fear that Flo wouldn't stand the journey, that something dreadful would have happened to her, and to know that everything was all right was like seeing the sun come out on a rainy day. 'Thank God,' she almost whispered it to herself.

  'What's that you said?' came the disembodied voice in the earpiece. 'When are you coming round here? we're all dying to see you, and we've tipped up for a smashing wedding present—it's here, under the counter, and the silver ribbons are getting very tatty waiting for you. We've cut your picture out of the paper and we're all as jealous as hell. He looks a fab man!'

  'Calm down!' Hester chuckled. Now that she knew Flo was all right, she felt like laughing aloud. 'I shall ring and make an appointment,' she said importantly with the laugh trickling through the words, 'and I shall expect the very best, mind you, I don't expect to be fobbed off with a junior.'

  'Full treatment,' she was promised, 'and a facial as well, plus a couple of bottles of fizz. We'll make it a celebration. Oh lord, I'd better hang up, there's a dowager descending on me! 'Bye for now.'

  'Goodbye,' Hester squeezed it in as the connection was broken, and went back to Katy feeling strangely lonely. They'd all been nice girls at Crispins and she missed the cheerful chatter, the gossip and—she searched for what it was—the relaxed atmosphere. That was it, she hadn't been relaxed since she'd met Demetrios!

  And what chance had she of relaxing now? There was the visit to Mia to be planned and schemed because it was going to be awkward. She didn't want to take Katy, and yet she couldn't bring herself to leave the child alone in the hotel, but it all turned out to be much easier than she had expected or hoped. On the third day of house-hunting, Hester cried off.

  'I've looked at houses for two whole days,' she protested over the breakfast table, 'and all I can say is that estate agents wear rose-tinted specs permanently and they're given to gross exaggeration as well. That place in Kingston,' she sniffed disparagingly. 'It would have made a splendid orphanage or even a small barracks, but nobody could ever have turned it into a home, and the converted tithe barn near Cheam still had the original woodworms, thousands of them. I could hear them munching away as we were walking round the place, their little jaws were working overtime. You and Katy go,' she suggested. 'Find somewhere nice and surprise me.'

  Demetrios' dark eyes looked at her thoughtfully. 'And you—what are you going to do?'

  'I shall have a lovely, lazy day.' Her smile glinted with satisfaction. 'I'll start off with a hot, deep bath, wash my hair, give myself a manicure,' she looked at her hands ruefully. 'My nails are still recovering from a week on your island, and then I shall dress myself and go out.'

  'Just for a walk in the park?' Demetrios helped himself to fresh toast and his mouth was a sardonic curve as he spread butter.

  'No,' she said promptly. 'I'll do a bit of window-shopping, I might even be tempted to buy one or two things…'

  'A neck
lace of gold leaves, perhaps?' Demetrios raised a dark eyebrow.

  'No, again!' She smiled at him sweetly. 'I told you, that was irreplaceable, a new one wouldn't be the same—it wouldn't have the same memories for me. I'll buy some new stuff for my face, perhaps a new bottle of perfume, some tights…'

  'Nothing too expensive, then?' Hester watched his mouth curve into a smile. 'You're not going to go mad and spend some of your ill-gotten gains?'

  In the circumstances, Hester thought she controlled herself very well. She didn't throw her knife on the floor and she didn't throw the coffee pot at him— instead, she sat quite still with a beautiful smile on her face, although she could feel the hair rising on the back of her neck. She flicked a glance at Katy, who was immersed in toast and marmalade, her large dark eyes slightly glazed as she thought of houses, schools and dogs, and kept the smile going as her eyes met her husband's across the table.

  'No,' she replied. 'That seems to be my favourite word, doesn't it? I told you, I don't have that money any more. I've donated it to a worthy cause.'

  'Part shares in a hairdressing salon?' He passed his coffee cup across for a refill and as she took it, their fingers met, his closing over hers. She gave a slight shake of her head, her eyes never leaving his face.

  'Not your business,' she said softly. 'And you seem to have a one-track mind, you should try lateral thinking and get out of the rut. You'll find it gives you a whole new approach—and speaking of new approaches, do you think I should have elocution lessons? Vilma suggested them for me.'

  'When was that?' Demetrios was frowning slightly. 'I can't recall her saying it.'

  'Didn't I tell you?' Hester put on a surprised look. 'I thought I did. She came to Crispins for a hairdo a few days before we were married—she asked for me specially.'

  'And?'

  'And I received the gypsy's warning, straight from the horse's mouth,' she chuckled at her own disregard of metaphors. 'I was given your ancestry and character right down to the last comma and full stop—it nearly frightened me to death, and then Vilma suggested that for a successful entree into polite society, I really needed elocution lessons. Apparently my accent is redolent of Wapping Old Stairs.'

  'Nonsense!' His eyes glinted. 'And you weren't frightened.'

  'That's all you know.' She refilled his cup and passed it back to him. 'But as you've always thought, there's not much I wouldn't do for money, especially if it's in a good cause, like the advancement of plain Hester Marsh to the dizzy heights of being Mrs Demetrios Thalassis and all that entails.'

  Katy had finished her toast and come back to earth, she was hearing things. 'But you're not plain, Hes. I think you're beautiful. Shall I wear my knickerbockers today—you don't think I look funny in them?'

  'You look adorable in them.' Hester boosted her confidence like mad and received a sticky kiss of gratitude. 'And wash your face before you change,' she added. 'You're covered in marmalade.'

  'You'll make a splendid mother,' Demetrios said admiringly, and Hester couldn't be sure if the admiration was real or assumed, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt—to be generous.

  'It's a matter of practice,' she said lightly, and nearly went on to tell him how it had been when Flo was working and she had had to take charge of Mia, who had been small, pale and very dependant. Just in time, she stopped herself. It might sound like an appeal for sympathy, just as to tell him about Flo's illness—the reason why she had outrageously blackmailed her own mother—would be utterly mad!

  It was much better that Demetrios continued to think of her as a hard-hearted, money-grubbing, semi-criminal. At least, it meant that her weak spot was covered from him so that he couldn't take advantage of it. She stole a glance at him beneath her lashes—did she love him? She didn't know. Certainly she enjoyed being married to him—well, some parts of it… and then Katy came back into the room in black corduroy knickerbockers, a white cotton, very frilly blouse and a dark red cardigan, looking so like a miniature Athene that Hester's heart dropped right down to the soles of her indoor slippers.

  'No chance, my girl,' she told herself grimly, 'so stop getting maudlin and sickeningly sentimental.' This was just a job. Marry a man, produce a baby, a boy and then, ta-ta! A job like any other job, do it well, earn her keep. If she kept looking at it that way, she wouldn't be shattered when it all came to an end.

  'What have you lined up for today?' She was determinedly bright. 'More mouldering mausoleums?'

  'Cheam and Esher.' Demetrios flicked through literature from the estate agency in search of photographs and it gave her time to get her thoughts into order.

  'Esher would be ideal.' Katy had come to stand beside her and she put an arm round the narrow shoulders and smiled down into the lovely little face. 'There's a very good girls' school close by, so, providing it wasn't too far for your papa to commute—or perhaps he'd prefer to stay here from Monday till Friday and just come down at weekends…'

  Katy grimaced and Demetrios made a disgusted noise in his throat.

  'A very barren sort of marriage,' he snorted distastefully, and shook his head. 'It wouldn't be satisfactory or satisfy—either of us.' A smile glinted in his eyes and curved his mouth as he dared Hester to contradict. 'If the house in Esher is any good…'

  'And there's room for my dog,' Katy interrupted.

  'Yes, I know.' He rumpled her hair and tugged at the ponytail. 'You're only thinking of a dog and a school, you wouldn't care if Hester and I had to sleep in a pigsty.'

  Hester peered over his shoulder at the description and photograph of the Esher house. 'It can't be a pigsty, not at that price,' she protested, 'and it looks quite nice—not too big, but the price! Perhaps you'd better look for something smaller…'

  'Come with us and see for yourself,' he suggested mildly, but she shook her head. In addition to the things she had listed, she also intended to call on Mia, who would be getting up at about three in the afternoon. Hester had some explaining to do and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be.

  'No,' she made it firm and definite. 'I'm having a day off.'

  With a sigh, he produced the inevitable roll of money. 'Then buy yourself something pretty to wear and we'll have dinner out tonight. I'll have them send up one of the maids to sit with Katy.'

  When they had gone, and with her mouth still warm from his parting kiss to which she had responded in a shameless manner, she made her way to the bathroom, passing the cluttered breakfast table guiltily. It was very pleasant to be able to ignore such things, to know that when she emerged from her bath everything would be cleared away, the rooms would have been cleaned and tidied and the bedlinen changed without any effort on her part, but it wasn't the sort of life she would want to lead for any length of time, it would be too boring.

  A faint thought flickered through her mind—she wondered how long it would take to become pregnant. She banished the thought as swiftly as it had arisen. That would lead to all sorts of complications and she didn't want to think about them yet. Instead, she would concentrate on restoring some of the grooming which she had lost during her stay on the island.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nothing had changed in the Poplar flat; Hester knew that, although suddenly, as she had walked in, it seemed smaller, cramped and dingy. She scolded herself—it was nothing of the sort, just as it had always been, it was just that she had become accustomed, in a very short time, to more spacious and luxurious surroundings, and with a wry grin at herself, she hoped that this effect wasn't a lasting one, because she'd have to grow out of it some time.

  In the kitchen, she filled the kettle and lit the stove before creeping along the passage to Mia's bedroom where her foster-sister was snoring delicately, her head under the bedclothes. She didn't go into Flo's room, it would be empty, the bed stripped and the wardrobe and drawers cleared, but while she didn't see that emptiness, she could pretend Flo was out shopping or perhaps gossiping with a neighbour—that she'd be home soon and she wasn't in Switzerlan
d fighting for her life.

  Back in the kitchen, she spooned instant coffee into a mug, added boiling water, two teaspoonsful of sugar and the top of the milk before carrying it in to Mia.

  'Hi,' she said softly, and waited for her sister to emerge.

  Mia stirred, pushing the bedclothes from her face, blinking owlishly and holding out a hand into which Hester thrust the coffee mug.

  'Whatimeisit?' A yawn slurred the words and Mia tried to focus on the bedside clock. 'Oh lord, not already! I've only been asleep ten minutes, I swear. That woman upstairs has been nailing down her carpets, that's what it sounded like.' Suddenly she sat bolt upright in bed, slopping coffee over the sheet. 'Hes! What are you doing here? I thought it was…'

  'Take your time.' Hester mopped up with a couple of tissues. 'Wake up properly.'

  'I am awake,' Mia grew wrathful, 'and I've got a bone to pick with you…'

  'Like I said, take your time,' Hester patted Mia's thin shoulder. 'Drink your coffee, have a shower to wake you up properly and come to the kitchen, I'll make a pot of tea. Your bone won't go away and neither shall I until you've had a chance to pick it clean.'

  'But I just don't understand.' Mia, freshly showered, wrapped up in a woolly gown and with her hair wound on to rollers, sat down at the kitchen table with a thump. 'I'm as mad as hell, Hes—you lied to me!'

  'No,' Hester shook her head as she poured out the tea, 'I didn't lie, not exactly. I just didn't tell the truth, not all of it.'

  'But to let me find out this way!' Mia dived in the pocket of her gown and produced a piece of newspaper, liberally stained with grease. 'One of the porters brought me this, he said I might find it interesting. He'd had his fish and chips wrapped up in it—or perhaps it wasn't his fish and chips. I bet it was that nursing aide, she's always nipping into the linen cupboard for a snack.'