Love in Spring BoxSet

by Jenny Lane

  ‘The same person I reminded you of on Paddington Station when we first met?’ An odd expression flickered momentarily across his face and then was gone. She thought she sensed disapproval and was disappointed, for tonight she felt an equal match for Melissa.

  Miriam was delighted with her daughter-in-law however, and the whole evening seemed highly successful. Tamara could not help smiling as she overheard one of Miriam’s friends saying in rather a loud voice, ‘It must be such a comfort, Miriam, to know that Oliver has married so well... Such a charming girl!’ Tamara felt like patting herself on the back. Cassie would be proud of her. She wasn’t so amused by the next remark, however. ‘It’s high time Dick found a wife and settled down.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he will be doing shortly, Olga. He’s become very friendly with a perfectly lovely local girl, and I feel certain it’s only a question of time before they announce their engagement.’

  ‘Well, where is she tonight?’

  ‘She doesn’t play bridge, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Ha – we’ll have to change that – can’t have a Cassell-Boyd not playing bridge! Cassie’s surprisingly good.’

  Tamara knew that she had surpassed herself at bridge that night. She had borrowed a book from Richard and had been secretly swotting up the rules. She seemed at last to have got the art of estimating before play began how many tricks she was likely to take. The thought of Melissa as Richard’s wife, however, disturbed her so much that when they resumed play she lost her concentration and did not do nearly so well. Much to her chagrin, she even fell into the trap of playing from the wrong hand, not realising what a difference this could make. Afterwards, to cover her confusion, she said brightly, ‘Did you know that in the States the stakes are reckoned at so much per point instead of so much per hundred as they are in England? English people have been known to end up paying a hundred times more than they had anticipated!’

  There was general laughter at this. ‘And what do you miss most about England when you’re living in the States?’ boomed Olga Trelawney.

  Cassie was not sentimental, but Tamara knew. ‘Well, at first, I longed for tea made in a proper teapot – they dangle a teabag in a mug out there – so when my sister came to stay she brought me one. And then English roses which seem to go on blooming for ever... Sharp, silvery frosts. We don’t get them like that in America because it’s not so damp and, above all, a good old English pub. They have plenty of bars, but no pubs. Oliver’s always saying we could make a fortune if we opened one over there, but it wouldn’t be the same.’

  Richard was surveying her with profound amusement. ‘Well, it works both ways, so what do you miss when you’re in England?’

  ‘I’ve been fairly fortunate with the sunshine this holiday, but I hate the damp weather and perpetual English drizzle. Apart from that I miss funny things like the garbage disposal in the sink and the Mexican restaurants. Oliver and I eat lots of Mexican food, such as tostadas or enchiladas followed by churros and washed down with orange Sangria – delicious. And then there’s the hospitality... English people are so reserved it isn’t true... And of course the parties.’ She paused, feeling that she had dealt with the question as well as Cassie would have done. It had been a long speech for her and, much to her embarrassment, she found that she was the centre of attention.

  ‘I thought you would have listed Oliver as first priority,’ Richard commented drily and everyone laughed as Tamara tried to get herself out of that one.

  ‘I would have thought it was an excellent way to keep a happy marriage having a separation from one’s partner now and then,’ observed the colonel. ‘Who’s for another drink?’

  Richard helped her to supper. ‘This must all seem incredibly dull to you, Cassie, after the nightlife you’re used to in New York.’

  Tamara sipped her champagne cocktail. ‘I suppose I’d find it a bit tame here permanently, but, for a change, it’s very relaxing... Anyway, what about you, Richard? I tend to forget you’ve just returned from abroad too.’

  He shrugged. ‘Sickness is the same all over the world, no matter what colour the person. The part of Africa where I was wasn’t a place I’d care to return to. It was an interesting experience. The work was rewarding and it made one appreciative of one’s own country... And now I’d better go and circulate, or Mother will never forgive me.’ Tamara watched him as he joked with Miriam and Olga Trelawney. He looked so handsome in his dark dinner-jacket with the white shirt accentuating his tanned skin and nut-brown hair. If only things could have been different between them. She did not have time to brood for long because John Penfold and his mother came to join her.

  *

  It had been a good evening, Tamara thought as she undressed for bed. She hoped she had done Cassie credit, but doubted if her sister would appreciate it. In a strange way she had quite enjoyed herself. She felt that for one night plain Tamara Simpson had been transformed into a swan.

  She unpinned her hair and brushed it so that it lay in thick waves over her shoulders. She studied her reflection in the mirror as she cleaned off her make-up. Perhaps she ought to make more of herself. The mascara and eyeshadow certainly seemed to emphasise her grey eyes, and perhaps a rinse would heighten the chestnut tints in her hair. She had set out to impress Richard, but realised she was not sure whether she had succeeded. A gentle tap came on the door. She thought it was probably Miriam and called to her to come in. To her embarrassment it was Richard.

  ‘Sorry, Cassie, I didn’t realise you would be ready for bed so soon.’ His eyes scanned her night attire and she felt herself colouring. ‘Well, I’m relieved to see the Cassie I know again. I thought you were a stranger tonight.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded.

  ‘I scarcely recognised you at first with all that stuff on your face, your hair done up so fancily and a dress that must have cost a fortune, in spite of the fact that there wasn’t that much of it.’

  ‘Didn’t you like it?’ she whispered, her hopes shattered.

  ‘Like it? Oh, I’m sure it was very sophisticated and soigné, and Mother thought you looked fantastic, but I prefer you in jeans and T-shirt, if you want my honest opinion – free from artificiality as you are now.’

  She was suddenly angry. ‘Richard Cassell-Boyd, I just can’t understand you at all sometimes... I thought you liked women to be elegant like – like Melissa.’

  ‘Melissa – oh, she’s just got a natural gift for clothes. She could wear a sack and look superb.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Richard,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m not quite sure what you’re driving at, but I’ve got a feeling you’ve just insulted me.’

  He looked contrite. ‘Cassie, I’m sorry – what I’m trying to say is – oh, hang it! Cassie, don’t try to be what you’re not. Just be natural. Don’t worry what Oliver or anyone else says.’ He touched her hair. ‘You look lovely just as you are – don’t spoil yourself.’

  Miriam’s door suddenly flew open. ‘Haven’t you two got any respect for those of us who want to sleep? Dick, can’t you finish your conversation in the morning?’

  ‘Sorry, Mother – just saying goodnight to my sister-in-law.’ He kissed Tamara on the cheek and then crossed the landing to kiss his mother. ‘Night, Cassie, night, Mother.’ He suddenly remembered something.

  ‘I really knocked to find out if you fancied a swim before breakfast, Cassie, say 8.30?’

  ‘I might,’ Tamara said coolly, ‘if I wake up in time.’ And without another word he went into his room. Miriam smiled at Tamara across the landing, obviously unaware of any friction.

  ‘Richard likes you,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m so glad, for it may bring him and Oliver together... Goodnight, dear. It was such a lovely evening, wasn’t it?’

  Tamara murmured something politely and went back inside her room. She had been a success in all eyes but Richard’s it would appear, and he was the one that suddenly mattered. She knew that she was beginning to care about his opinion of her far too much and,
although the danger signals were flashing in her brain, she could not prevent herself from wanting to gain his approval. She realised that she was more than a little in love with him. Why, oh, why had this had to happen? Why couldn’t Richard have stayed in Africa for just a few more weeks and then she might never have met him. She did not want to let Cassie down, but she was determined not to get hurt a second time. She brushed away the foolish tears impatiently.

  *

  Richard was pouring his second cup of tea when Tamara entered the kitchen the following morning. She had been in two minds whether to join him for the swim, but, in the end, had decided it would seem childish not to. He smiled at her and reached for another cup.

  ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming. Actually, as it’s such marvellous weather, I have a better idea if you’re agreeable. I’ve got permission from a friend of mine to use his boat. It’s moored off Tregarth Bay... Would you care to come for a trip with me?’ He watched for her reaction. She tried not to show how pleased she was.

  ‘I’d very much like to, Richard, thank you, but I’ll have to change into some slacks.’

  ‘And a warm sweater... It can be deceptively cool in the bay. It’s quite safe, though, I promise you, very calm and just the right sort of weather conditions today.’

  Half an hour later they set off. It was a new day filled with promise, and Tamara had a feeling that it might prove to be a turning-point in their relationship – make or break – the deciding factor as to whether she stayed in Tregarth or returned to London.

  Tregarth Bay was rather different from the cove. Situated a mile or so out of the village it was wild and beautiful. The Point was a jagged headland of rock stretching far out to sea. Gulls circled overhead, crying raucously. The boat, The Cormorant, was bobbing gently up and down on its moorings in the little harbour. Richard clambered aboard and stretched out a hand to help Tamara.

  The sea looked like a sheet of blue glass, but as they left the bay and rounded the point, Tamara was surprised at the breeze that sprung up. It was exhilarating. She tasted the salt spray, and her hair was whipped against her face. The coastline was rugged and scenic. They passed tiny coves and mysterious caves, where the water changed to eerie shades of green.

  ‘I can quite understand how people think of Cornwall as a mystical place,’ she breathed.

  His eyes twinkled. ‘So you’re a romantic at heart, are you? I suppose you know that Camelford is reputed to be the Camelot where King Arthur died?’

  ‘Yes, and I can well believe it, for it’s just the setting for all those ancient legends in this part of the country.’

  ‘Well, Cornwall certainly captures the imagination with its tales of smugglers and pirates and King Arthur... I thought we would drop anchor near one of the coves for our picnic.’

  Tamara felt thoroughly relaxed and wondered how she could have been so foolish the previous night. She realised how contented she was in his company. She felt as if they were alone in the world – just the two of them out there on the English Channel, and wished this golden morning would last for ever.

  ‘It’s all so peaceful and so very, very beautiful!’ she breathed.

  ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Cassie. Nice little craft, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, do you often have the chance to borrow her?’

  ‘Oh, I can take her out whenever I like, providing Steve isn’t wanting her of course... Years ago, when I had a boat, he used to come out with me, you see.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll buy another one now you’re home?’

  ‘I might – it all depends on whether I decide to settle here or not.’

  She looked at him in some surprise. ‘But I thought you wanted to return to Cornwall.’

  His eyes held a deep expression that she could not fathom. ‘I needed a job – this one was going and I knew I stood a pretty fair chance of getting it... And now I must concentrate – there’s an outcrop of rocks just here and in a few minutes we’ll be approaching the cove.’ Tamara felt a little snubbed; she sat back and enjoyed the breathtaking beauty of the scenery. The cove was sheltered and had a shimmering stretch of golden sand. Richard brought The Cormorant in faultlessly and dropped anchor.

  ‘Now are we going to picnic on board and swim to the beach later?’

  Tamara approved of this idea and they made short work of the chicken and salad that Rose had provided. Afterwards they washed up in the small galley. There was no warning of what Richard was about to say to her. He dried his hands carefully.

  ‘Well, that’s everything shipshape and Bristol fashion... And now that I have you out of earshot of everyone else and in no position to run away from me, I should like to have a little talk with you.’

  Her heart began to pound, for he suddenly looked so stern. She wondered what she had done to displease him.

  ‘What is it, Richard? You sound as if I’ve done something to annoy you.’

  ‘No, I think upset would be a better word. The trouble is you’re so blooming convincing... The game’s up, young woman... You are no more Cassie Cassell-Boyd than I am Richard Burton.’

  Tamara stared at him miserably, not even pretending she hadn’t a clue as to what he was talking about. It was so totally unexpected.

  ‘How did you find out?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Oh, I’ve known all along.’ He took her arm. ‘Let’s go and sit down, shall we? We might as well soak up the sun while we’re talking.’ She obeyed him meekly, completely bemused.

  ‘Do you know who I am?’ she ventured at last.

  ‘Indeed I do – you’re Cassie’s sister Tamara Simpson.’

  Tamara’s mind was in a complete whirl. He had known she was an imposter all the time, so why had he let her go on thinking that she had succeeded in deceiving him?

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said feebly.

  ‘Oh, it’s quite simple. I knew Cassie was in London because I met a mutual acquaintance of ours, and so when I saw you on Paddington Station, for a moment I thought you really were Cassie. But then I realised my mistake and, of course, you didn’t recognise me. I had convinced myself that your striking resemblance to my sister-in-law was just a pure coincidence and it wasn’t until you mentioned Oliver that I became suspicious. I didn’t want to put you on your guard. After all, you could have been an imposter for any number of reasons – our family heirlooms amongst them. Anyway, when I got to Falmouth I rang round a few friends in London until I had some idea where Cassie might be staying. It wasn’t too difficult to track her down.’

  Tamara stared at him in disbelief. ‘Are you telling me that Cassie knows you’re in Cornwall?’ she demanded. ‘No wonder she hasn’t bothered to contact me. I’ve been trying to get in touch with her ever since your arrival.’

  ‘Well, she isn’t the easiest of people to catch in, I must admit, but I was determined to discover the truth and so I phoned every half-hour until she returned home in the small hours. Apparently she’d been to a party. She was shattered when she learnt I’d turned up on the scene, but, being Cassie, soon recovered her ebullience. She put me in the picture and I was furious at first – justifiably, so I’m sure you will agree, and all set for denouncing you.’

  ‘So what made you change your mind?’ Tamara asked in a small voice.

  ‘Cassie explained the situation from her point of view and, knowing Oliver as I do, I understood how she felt when she told me that he wouldn’t let her be independent and how she longed for an opportunity to act again. She also told me briefly about you and your ex-fiancé and how you desperately needed a chance to sort yourself out without being hounded. It was a despicable thing to do, in my opinion, but I didn’t want my parents to be hurt unnecessarily and so, in the end, I agreed to allow the charade to continue. I felt that it would be less unkind than to tell them the truth – that their daughter-in-law didn’t want to be bothered to meet them.’

  ‘Richard, that’s not strictly true – and, after all, you’ve just said you appre
ciated Cassie’s motives. Besides, Cassie seemed to think your parents would be amused if they ever found out.’

  His face clouded over. ‘Would you be if it were you who was being made a fool of?’

  She bowed her head. ‘No, I agree it was a contemptible thing to do and I feel ashamed of myself... but why didn’t you challenge me? Why did you and Cassie let me go on believing all this time that you didn’t know? I think that was a pretty mean trick too.’

  He examined a scratch on his hand. ‘I thought your immediate reaction would be to pack your bags and go, or that if you did stay you would be continually on your guard and put up barriers. As a matter of fact, I was interested to find out more about you and to see if you were like your sister – call it idle curiosity if you like. It’s been a bit like watching someone with a dual personality. At times you were obviously Tamara, and at others most definitely Cassie, but of late, until last night, you were nearly always Tamara.’

  ‘I see – well, I’m not a bit like Cassie, am I? You must realise we’re poles apart.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you’re sensitive and perceptive and it just puzzles me that you let yourself be pushed about by your sister, like a pawn on a chessboard.’

  ‘I wanted to help Cassie,’ Tamara said huskily. ‘She needed a chance to find her own identity too. Oliver wanted to possess her and she rebelled. Oh, Richard, I’m not sure that she’s happy! I wonder if the marriage is working out.’

  ‘Cassie has a strong personality and she won’t be dominated. She’ll survive, don’t you worry.’

  ‘You sound as if you know my sister quite well. Where did you meet her?’ Tamara asked genuinely puzzled.

  ‘At a party in London. She came with a friend of Oliver’s. She had met Oliver once or twice before he went to America and was interested to learn that he was moving to New York that autumn. As a matter of fact, I went out with Cassie for a few weeks, but I was going to Africa and she to America and never the twain should meet – Besides, we are both very different people. However, she asked if I thought Oliver would come to see her in the play when he arrived in New York. She said she’d send him a complimentary ticket – I didn’t disillusion her – Oliver doesn’t care much for the arts, but he never could resist a pretty face... Anyway, you know the rest of the story. Bob’s your uncle the next I knew they were married!’