CHAPTER EIGHT
Garland Holt helped Karina into the huge chauffeur-driven car and sat down beside her.
“You look very smart,” he said in a voice that somehow struck her as being suspicious.
“Cousin Felix gave me this dress,” she replied.
Garland said nothing for a moment and then he asked,
“What does your cousin mean to you? Are you very fond of him?”
Karina was surprised at the question.
She turned her face towards him and in the light of the street lamps she could see that he was staring down at her and frowning.
“Cousin Felix has been very kind to me,” she said. “If it had not been for him I should – have been married at this moment.”
She shivered as she spoke.
“To the man I saw you with three years ago on the balcony in Belgrave Square?” Garland asked.
“How can you remember that?” Karina asked. “And why did you remember me?”
He did not answer her for a moment, as if he was debating whether to tell her the truth, and then he said,
“You sounded helpless and unhappy. There was something in your voice, I cannot explain exactly what, that remained in my mind. I used to wonder afterwards what you would have said if I had asked you to dance.”
“I should have been very glad if you had,” Karina replied. “I hated all the dances I went to that summer because I never seemed to have any partners – except Cyril.”
“Don’t think about it now,” Garland said sharply. “It is past and it is never any use regretting. You must learn to cut your losses. I have always believed that was the first and most important lesson any financier should absorb.”
“But I am not a financier,” Karina remarked with a little smile.
“No, but the same applies to life,” Garland said. “Far too many people keep looking back. ‘If only I had done so and so, if only I had not made a fool of myself over this or that’. What is past is past. It’s the future that counts.”
He spoke so violently that the whole car seemed to vibrate with the power of his voice.
“Don’t you ever regret anything you have done?” Karina asked.
“Yes, of course,” he said almost roughly. “If I did not, I should not feel so strongly about it. I have made many mistakes in my life, who hasn’t? I know that one should not think about them, but, of course, I do.”
“I am glad,” she said involuntarily.
“Glad?” he asked quickly. “What do you mean by glad?”
She flushed at the question.
“I think I meant that I was glad that you are so human. Just like me and all the other people who know that they should not do something and yet go on doing it.”
Garland put back his head and laughed.
“You always say something I don’t expect. It’s a novelty, I assure you.”
“I am afraid that it’s only because I am not sophisticated and worldly wise,” Karina said.
“But you are not as young as you look.”
“No, that’s true,” she admitted.
“It might be a useful asset at times.”
“That’s what Cousin Felix said.”
She felt Garland stiffen and wondered what she had said that was wrong.
‘He must dislike Cousin Felix very much,’ she thought and made a mental reservation not to mention him if she could possibly help it.
It was obvious that the mere mention of his name had taken away Garland’s desire to confide in her.
They said little more until the car drew up at The Savoy. Garland helped her out and they went through the big swing doors into the vestibule. A liveried attendant showed Karina the way to the ladies’ cloakroom, where she left her wrap and glanced at herself for a moment in the big shining mirrors.
She felt that her new dress gave her confidence. She was not as afraid of Garland as she had been and she was not so apprehensive about what lay ahead.
‘It’s exciting,’ she told her reflection. ‘Exciting to be in The Savoy and to be meeting new people. If I was at home – ’
And then she remembered who would have been with her if she had been at home.
She turned abruptly from the mirror and went outside into the crowd and chatter of the people sitting round drinking cocktails before they went into the restaurant.
She saw Garland talking to a man and woman and moved across to his side.
“Oh, here you are, Karina,” he said. “Mrs. Westenholtz, may I introduce Miss Karina Burke?”
A very pretty, exquisitely dressed American girl held out her hand.
“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Burke,” she said. “I’ll have you know my husband, Carl Westenholtz. We’re from Pittsburgh.”
Garland ushered them to a table, where he ordered cocktails.
Then they were led into the main dining room and given a flower-decorated table beside the dance floor.
Mrs. Westenholtz never drew breath. She talked about herself and her husband and how they had only been married for three months. She talked about New York and their trip to Europe, about their house in Pittsburgh and her husband’s business.
Karina could not help being amused. She gathered amidst all the chatter that Carl Westenholtz and Garland Holt were doing business together, but it was quite obvious that they were not going to have a chance to speak while the vivacious bride talked for them.
Karina let her mind wander. She looked at the people dancing, she enjoyed the delicious food and sipped the pale golden champagne.
‘It’s all like a dream,’ she thought. ‘I am Cinderella and the only one missing is Prince Charming.’
She could not help wishing that Jim was with her. It would be fun to listen to his extravagant compliments and to hear him flirting with her. She checked herself suddenly. Was it flirting or was it something more serious? Could she believe him?
“What are you thinking about?”
The question broke in upon her thoughts and she started guiltily.
“Oh, I-I’m sorry,” she stammered.
“Mrs. Westenholtz has asked you a question, Karina,” Garland said.
“I do apologise,” Karina said hastily, “but I was not listening. I am afraid that I was watching the dancers. I have never been to The Savoy before and it’s very fascinating for me.”
“Well, I can quite understand that,” Mrs. Westenholtz said. “I remember when I was first taken to the Waldorf Astoria – ”
She was off again and Karina stole an anxious glance at Garland to see if he was really angry with her. To her relief, and a little to her surprise, his eyes were twinkling.
Finally, when dinner was over, Mrs. Westenholtz suggested that the ladies should go to the cloakroom. She led the way and, when they reached it, she turned to Karina and said,
“You must forgive my being personal and saying how much I admire your dress. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, thank you,” Karina said. “It was given me as a present to wear tonight.”
“Well, it’s really lovely,” Mrs. Westenholtz said. “And you’re a lovely girl too. I must be frank and say that I was surprised when I saw you. Both Carl and I were expecting someone else.”
“Someone else?” Karina questioned.
Mrs. Westenholtz nodded.
“Yes. Well, we sort of thought from the last time we were here that Mr. Holt was keen on Lady Carol Byng, so we said to him, ‘Carl and I, being on our honeymoon, aren’t gonna be much company for you, so you bring along someone you fancy.’ And we were quite certain he’d bring Lady Carol.”
Karina was not quite certain why, but she felt a little deflated.
“I-I’m sorry,” she murmured deprecatingly.
“Now you mustn’t take it that way,” Mrs. Westenholtz said. “We’re real glad to meet you and I know Carl thinks you’re as pretty as I do and I’m quite certain Mr. Holt wouldn’t have asked you if he hadn’t thought you were more important to him t
han Lady Carol.”
“No, I don’t think it’s like – that at all,” Karina said. “You see, I work in Mr. Holt’s office.”
“Well, isn’t that just fine?” Mrs. Westenholtz said. “I’ve always said that men know the way to get themselves the prettiest secretaries. No wonder their wives are jealous. I shall tell Carl about this and I won’t let him engage anyone in future unless I see her first!”
Karina laughed dutifully.
At the same time she felt a little uncomfortable. This was not in the least the sort of dinner party she had expected. She had thought that it would consist of the same heavy elderly financiers who had been staying at Garland Holt’s house all the weekend.
She had become then quite skilful at listening to the older men droning on about their business experiences and it had been a surprise to find that the dinner party was merely one of four.
“I think Mr. Holt is just too attractive for words,” Mrs. Westenholtz was saying. “There’s something about that reserved British type that just makes my heart go pitter-pat. I’ve always told Carl that, if he hadn’t been so insistent about leading me up the aisle, I’d have married a Britisher.”
“I don’t think Mr. Holt will ever marry anyone,” Karina said firmly. “You see, he is so rich he thinks that everyone is running after him for his money.”
“My, isn’t that silly!” Mrs. Westenholtz said. “Why, Carl is as rich as he is, and I could name dozens more. Of course, in the States we girls like to catch a millionaire if we can get one, but they don’t get a complex about it, we soon see to that.”
“There’s one thing you can be quite certain about,” Karina smiled. “It is that Mr. Holt will have someone different to bring out to dinner with you next time you ask him.”
“I certainly hope he doesn’t,” Mrs. Westenholtz replied. “I’ve taken a real fancy to you, and you mustn’t call me ‘Mrs. Westenholtz’, you must call me ‘Sadie’. And I think your name is just cute.”
It was difficult, Karina thought, to be even the least bit reserved in the face of such overwhelming friendliness. And then, as she smiled at Sadie, the American thrust an arm through hers and said,
“Don’t you be down-hearted, honey. You’ll get him if you set your mind to it and I don’t blame you for being in love with him. He’s just like a movie star.”
Karina stiffened.
“Oh, but please,” she said, “you must not think that I am in love with Mr. Holt – I am not. I hardly know him. He asked me to come tonight because – ”
She stopped suddenly, wondering why Garland Holt had asked her.
Was it only because he did not want her to go out with Jim or was it because he wanted her to meet his American friends? She was quite certain that the last reason was not the true one. Anyway, whatever the reason, it was not a very complimentary one.
Sadie was quite unabashed.
“If you’re not in love with him,” she said, “you soon will be. And I shouldn’t take too long about it either. As you’ve said yourself, there are lots of girls ready to run after a millionaire, especially when he’s good-looking.”
Karina gave up the hopeless task of trying to explain to this voluble American what was the truth. It was even more difficult, she thought, because she did not know herself what the truth was. She was sure of only one thing, that she did not want to marry Garland Holt, not under any circumstances.
They went back to the table, Sadie still talking nineteen to the dozen, to find the men chatting over their cigars and large balloon glasses of brandy.
They rose to their feet, a little reluctantly Karina thought, as if they were annoyed at being interrupted. But Sadie soon had the whole table listening to her again.
Finally Carl Westenholtz stood up.
“I want to dance,” he said. “And if you’ll forgive me, Miss Burke, I’m going to ask my wife first because I still count this trip as part of our honeymoon.”
“Now, isn’t that the sweetest thing!” Sadie gushed. “You see, Karina, what a honey of a husband I’ve got! You’ll have to hurry up and get yourself one.”
She winked at Karina as she rose to her feet and then melted into her husband’s arms on the dance floor and they were soon lost from view amongst the crowd doing the samba.
“What does she mean by that?” Garland asked curiously.
“I have no idea,” Karina said untruthfully, blushing as she spoke.
“Does she think that there is something between us?” Garland asked in an amused voice.
“Once she made up her mind,” Karina replied, “nothing I could say would alter it.”
“No, I gather that,” Garland said.
“As a matter of fact,” Karina went on, feeling that the conversation was embarrassing, but that it would be worse to leave so many things unsaid between them, “Mrs. Westenholtz was expecting Lady Carol to come with you tonight.”
“Yes, I know she was,” Garland said. “I am afraid that poor Carl is married to a romantic. They are very difficult to live with.”
“And what is a romantic?” Karina asked.
“Someone who is always trying to matchmake in one way or another,” Garland said. “They cannot bear to see an unattached man or an unattached woman. They just have to link them up together somehow. As a matter of fact Sadie has tried it before, but I have a special sales resistance to that lady’s ideas.”
Karina sipped the champagne. Perhaps it was the good dinner that she had enjoyed and the excellent wine that gave her the courage to say,
“You sound very fierce and frightening. Is that how you manage to keep all the lovely ladies at bay?”
For a moment Garland glared at her as if he thought that she had been impertinent and then he laughed.
“You are incorrigible,” he said. “And, what is more, you make me feel rather a fool. One thing, you have made your feelings quite clear. When I walked into my grandmother’s room and heard you say that I was the last man on earth that you would marry, I really felt quite piqued.”
“You cannot expect every woman to admire you as much as Sadie Westenholtz does,” Karina said demurely.
“Does she admire me?” he enquired.
“Enormously,” Karina answered solemnly. “She thinks you are reserved, stiff-lipped and exactly like a movie star.”
Garland threw back his head again. He looked much younger Karina thought, when he laughed. In fact he looked his right age. It was only when he was glowering and being difficult that he seemed so very much older, so stern and so frightening.
“I tell you what, Karina,” he said, leaning forward.
She bent towards him.
At that moment there was an interruption.
“A telephone call for Miss Karina Burke,” a pageboy called at her elbow.
“For me?” Karina said. “There must be some mistake.”
“Miss Karina Burke wanted on the telephone,” the boy replied.
“I cannot think who it can be,” she said.
“Better go and find out,” he suggested.
He sat back in his chair and put his cigar to his lips. Karina rose from the table and the boy led her up into the front hall of the hotel and showed her into a telephone box.
She lifted the receiver.
“Karina Burke speaking,” she said.
“One moment, I have a call for you,” the operator replied.
Who could it be? Karina wondered.
Had Uncle Simon or Aunt Margaret found out where she was? Was it Felix ringing her? If it was, there must be something very wrong.
She held her breath as she heard a click and the operator said,
“You’re through.”
“Hello!”
Her voice trembled so that she hardly recognised it as her own.
“Hello, Karina!”
It was Jim.
“Jim!” she exclaimed. “Why are you telephoning me?”
“I wanted to find out how you are getting on. Is the great man in a good or a
bad temper?”
“Jim, you ought not to have rung me.”
“Why not? He ruined my evening, didn’t he? I am only going to take up a few minutes of your time. I thought I was entitled to that at least.”
“Oh, Jim, he won’t like it and he will ask me who wanted me.”
“Tell the truth and shame the devil.”
“I cannot. You know he will be cross.”
“What does it matter if he is? If you get the sack, I will find you a job.”
“Selling cars?” Karina asked.
“No, looking after me.”
“Oh, Jim. I cannot stay here talking. I must go back.”
“Actually I rang you up for a very important reason. There is something I had to tell you.”
“What is it?” Karina asked apprehensively.
“I wanted to tell you that I love you. I think you are the prettiest, most adorable girl I have ever seen.”
“You are absurd and I don’t believe a word of it.”
“Yes, you do and I am going to make you believe it even more tomorrow night. Are you looking forward to coming out with me?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“Well, that is all I wanted to hear. I love you, Karina, and I cannot wait to see you again. In fact I am hating every minute of this evening because I am not with you.”
There was a sudden depth of feeling in Jim’s voice.
“Thank you, Jim, but I must not stop. I must go, really.”
“All right, Goodnight! Bless you! Don’t forget about me.”
“No – goodnight!”
Karina put down the receiver and for a moment she did not leave the box. Instead she put her fingers up to her lips, the lips that Jim had kissed only a very short time ago.
There had been so much to think about that until now she had forgotten that quick, snatched kiss – the first she had ever known in her whole life.
‘He is nice,’ she thought. ‘Very nice.’
Yet somehow there was something wrong. She did not know what it was. And then she admitted to herself that it was disappointment. She had thought a kiss would be somehow different. More wonderful, perhaps more exciting.
‘Maybe it will be better the second time,’ she told herself and felt herself blush because she was certain that was not the sort of thing a nice girl ought to think.
The Runaway Heart Page 13