by Penny Jordan
He drove her home in silence, parking his car close enough to the door for her to get out and dash up to it, before he could join her.
‘No, don’t come in with me,’ she told him fiercely as she unlocked the door, and to her relief he stepped back towards his car, leaving her to face her father’s surprise at her early return on her own.
CHAPTER FIVE
CHRISTY was profoundly thankful to have the excuse of her mishap with the car to explain away her pallor and tension when she went upstairs to face her mother. The shock, not only of the discovery of her love for Dominic, but also of the anger he had exhibited when she had brought up the subject of their eight-year-old quarrel, were not things she could easily put out of her mind.
Realising that her daughter was both upset and on edge, Sarah Marsden wisely refrained from questioning her at length, suggesting instead that she have an early night.
‘You’re the one who’s supposed to be the invalid, not me,’ Christy protested with a wan smile.
‘I don’t know. Your father said that Dominic sounded most concerned when he rang up. I must admit I expected you to come home in a far more battered and bruised state than you have.’
Her bruises were there all right, but they were all inside, Christy, reflected ruefully.
‘Why didn’t Dominic come in with you? He knows that he’s always welcome.’
‘Lady Anthony had invited him round for supper.’ An invitation which he had originally refused.
‘At her god-daughter’s behest, no doubt. Dominic is a very attractive man.’ She paused, almost as though expecting Christy to deny it, but she wasn’t that good a liar. She got up off the bed, trembling slightly as she remembered the passion with which Dominic had kissed her. If Amanda had been the one in his arms, she doubted that the other woman would have run away from him like a frightened child. What was the matter with her? she asked herself crossly as she prepared for bed. She had done the right thing; the only thing in the circumstances. She loved him too much to settle for a brief affair, no matter how passionate.
For over a week she saw nothing of Dominic, and she told herself that she was glad. The snow her father had prophesied fell heavily one night, smothering the countryside in a soft white blanket. A fierce frost on top of the snow kept them virtually housebound, but Christy discovered, after the second occasion on which she deliberately kept out of the way when her mother was due for her daily visit from the doctor, that Dominic had as little desire to see her as she had him, because it was not he who called to see her mother, but his partner.
She had already typed up the notes she had taken at the committee meeting, and telephone calls from both the Major and Lady Anthony had confirmed that they were going ahead with their plans for the masked ball.
As soon as the weather conditions permitted, Christy went with her father to Newcastle and spent the morning in a small, dusty stationers, tucked away down a side street, where the proprietor had to move aside huge bundles of out-of-date legal stationery before he could find for her a book containing sample invitation cards. Bearing in mind the nature of the event, and the probable reaction of Amanda Hayes to anything she might choose, she deliberately decided on the largest and most formal card available and left her order with the shop. Her father, who had business of his own to conduct with a fellow solicitor in the city, had suggested that they have lunch together in a small restaurant that had always been one of her favourites as a child. It had changed hands several times since Christy had first dined in it, and the pretty soft peach and french blue dećor chosen by the latest proprietors was very warming on such a cold and miserable day.
The building was an old one, and the proprietors had made the most of its low-ceilinged, beamed interior. A good fire burned in the grate, and when Christy gave her name, she was informed that her father had not yet arrived, and offered a comfortable seat in one of the huge leather chairs in the bar area.
She had just ordered a drink when the door opened and another couple came in. Her heart seemed to stand still, gripped in an intolerable vice of pain as she recognised Dominic and Amanda, the latter clinging possessively to Dominic’s arm.
He looked at Christy without smiling, his eyes grim and forbidding. Tears rose up inside her, forcing her to look away, her bottom lip caught up in her small teeth. Her surroundings blurred dangerously as she looked frantically into the fire, willing her tears to subside. She couldn’t break down in front of them like this. Dominic was right. She hadn’t grown up; she was behaving in a way that would have disgraced an eighteen-year-old, never mind a woman of twenty-five.
‘My goodness, what a small world,’ Amanda commented in an affected drawl. ‘But then, I suppose in such a backwater one has to expect to run into people one knows. Are you alone?’ Her disparaging glance suggested that she must be, and Christy had difficulty in summoning a voice polite enough to answer her.
‘No, I’m waiting for my father. I came with him this morning so that I could order the invitations for the ball.’
‘Oh, you should have left that to me. Mummy uses this marvellous man in London…’
The artificial voice grated on Christy’s too-tender nerves. She told herself that there was something faintly ridiculous about a grown woman in her late twenties referring to her parent as ‘Mummy’.
‘Darling, I’m just dying for a drink,’ Amanda continued. ‘Something civilised. I’ll let you choose for me. You know what I like.’
It took all her willpower for Christy not to look away as Amanda batted her eyelashes at Dominic. A little grimly she wondered when the other woman would realise that she was overdoing things a little and that Dominic was not in the least remotely interested in Christy herself. She would have thought that the cool way in which he had acknowledged her presence would have been enough. The look of rejection and dislike in his eyes had surely been explicit enough even for someone as patently dim as Amanda appeared to be.
While Dominic went over to the small bar, Amanda leaned forward maliciously. ‘What do you plan to wear for the ball? I thought I might have something new made. My godmother suggested that I go to David again… David Emanuel, that is. His designs are simply super.’
Christy only just managed to bite back the tart comment that there was absolutely no need for her to underline the disparity in their financial and social positions with such name-dropping. Fortunately, before she could give rein to her acid thoughts, Dominic was back. Without even having to look at him, Christy was acutely conscious of him, and of the way he chose to sit down on Amanda’s far side—as far away from her as possible. He had no need to underline the fact that he wanted nothing more to do with her, she thought wretchedly; that much was already abundantly clear.
Since their last meeting she had had time to think properly about what he had said to her, and to accept the truth of his heated comments. Of course he could not have made love to her; of course he had been morally bound to turn her down; and of course now she could understand why he had felt it so incumbent upon him to frighten her with the reality of where her foolishness might have led.
What perhaps both of them had underestimated had been the intensity of her feelings for him. Whereas she had no doubt now that he had only meant to shake her into a realisation of what she was doing to herself, he had actually instilled in her such an intensity of doubt and self-loathing that he had effectively paralysed her instinctive responses.
‘I was just telling Christy that I’ll have to go to London to arrange to have a new gown made for the ball.’ Amanda pouted provocatively and smiled at him. ‘Why don’t you come with me, darling? It will do you good to have a break. You work far too hard.’
The despairing sickness inside her seemed to bloom and grow as Christy was forced to listen to their conversation. She turned away, not wanting to hear Dominic’s reply, so thoroughly relieved to see her father walk into the restaurant that she almost spilled her drink as she got up to greet him.
‘Hello, Dominic. I
didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘I had to come to Newcastle on business.’
‘And I’m afraid I came with him to distract him,’ Amanda cooed. Christy could see that it was on the tip of her father’s tongue to suggest that they all lunched together, and she knew that to watch Amanda flirting with Dominic over the lunch table was more than she could endure. She had always been blessed with a particularly vivid imagination, and she didn’t need any prompting from Amanda to guess that the two of them were lovers. A man with the strong sexual drive she had sensed when Dominic had kissed her would not deny himself the company of an attractive and willing woman for very long—and why should he?
‘Dad…if you don’t mind, I’d rather go straight home than eat. I’m not…I’m not terribly hungry.’
She didn’t care any more how betraying her admission might be. She didn’t even care about the level, glinting look Dominic gave her as she turned to plead with her father. All she cared about was getting out of the intimate, pretty atmosphere of the restaurant and escaping from the knowledge that being in the same room as Dominic at this particular moment in time was more than she could bear.
She saw her father frown, but as though he sensed her desperation he agreed calmly, ‘Well, if that’s what you want…I must admit I’m never too happy about leaving your mother for very long.’
He went across to explain the change in plans to the owner, and paid for Christy’s drink, and as they walked out into the raw, cold afternoon Christy wondered a little at the savagely comprehensive contempt she had seen in Dominic’s eyes as he watched her go.
* * *
‘Phone call for you, Christy.’
Her heart thumped as she walked through into the hall. She had told herself she was behaving crazily, and that Dominic was hardly likely to be telephoning her, especially since she knew from seeing him in Newcastle three days ago that he was obviously dating Amanda, but even so, the flutters in her stomach didn’t settle until she spoke into the receiver and heard Meryl’s familiar voice answering her.
‘Meryl! But…’
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Christy, but I desperately need your help. David is due to fly out to Hollywood in a couple of days, and you know what he’s like. It’s panic, panic, panic, and now I can’t seem to find the manuscript for Fathers and Daughters. He swears that it should be filed with all the others, but it isn’t there, and you know how impossible he can be when he gets into one of his moods. He wants to take it with him, because it seems the Americans might be interested, and you’re my last hope.’
In spite of her own misery Christy grinned to herself. David’s methods of filing were notorious, as were the moods he flew into whenever anyone dared to criticise or complain about his lack of proper methods.
‘Well, I can’t think of anywhere offhand. Have you tried the pending file? Or the one marked ‘‘M’’?’
‘M?’ Meryl queried.
‘For mistakes,’ Christy informed her with another grin.
‘I’ve looked everywhere, and I’m at my wits’ end.’
She sounded it, and Christy felt a surge of sympathy for her.
‘Look, I know it’s an awful imposition, but I was wondering if you could possibly come down. We could put you up overnight, and you could go through the files with me. You know what a calming effect you always have on David. At this moment in time I’d happily file him under “M” myself. “M” for monster,’ she added feelingly.
‘Oh, Meryl, I’m afraid I can’t.’
There was an unhappy silence that made her feel extremely uncomfortable, and then her father, who had walked out into the hall queried, ‘Can’t what?’
‘Can’t go to London,’ Christy told him, covering the receiver. ‘Meryl can’t find one of David’s plays, and she wanted me to go down there and give her a hand.’
‘Nonsense. Of course you can go. Do you good, if you ask me,’ her father added vigorously. ‘You need a break. Besides, you’ll be able to get yourself something for this Grand Ball.’
Christy frowned. She could hardly explain to her father or to Meryl why she didn’t want to see David again. She gnawed at her bottom lip and then heard Meryl asking anxiously if they had been cut off.
‘No…no, I’m still here.’
‘Look, Christy, I hate to pressure you, but I really do need your help. You’ve no idea what it’s like down here! David is driving me mad…and besides…’ her voice seemed to fade away a little and then rallied again as she said with a false brightness that cut Christy to the heart, ‘I don’t need to pretend with you. I suspect that he’s deep in the throes of a new affair, and it’s making him more unbearable than ever.’
While her heart went out to Meryl, Christy couldn’t help thinking that if she was right—and Meryl knew her husband very well indeed—then she herself need have no fears about seeing David.
‘Well, if you really need me…’
‘Oh, you’re a darling! When can you come?’
Before she hung up it was arranged that Christy would catch the early morning train from Newcastle the following day, and that she would stay overnight with her old employers before returning home. She was touched almost to tears that evening when her father called her into his study, and after much indecision presented her with an extremely generous cheque which he told her she was to use to buy herself a ballgown. When she protested at his generosity, reminding him feelingly that she had already caused him expense by damaging her mother’s car, he told her not to be so silly, adding bracingly, ‘Besides, you’ve got the honour of Setondale to uphold, you know. Can’t have our local girl being out-shone by an incomer!’
Christy laughed, but she didn’t have the heart to tell her parent that, generous though his cheque was, it would hardly buy her a dress that could compete with the Emanuel outfit with which Amanda was planning to dazzle them.
To save her father having to get up early, she ordered a taxi to take her to Newcastle for the early morning train. When her alarm went off at four, she groaned, and went through the motions of getting washed and dressed, feeling like a zombie. She didn’t feel much better when she eventually got on the train and eschewed the dining car, to curl up and catch up on her shortened sleep in the comfort of her seat in the first class section. It was a welcome surprise to discover that Meryl had come to the station to meet her.
‘You shouldn’t have bothered,’ Christy protested, when she had disengaged herself from her welcoming hug. ‘I could easily have made my own way to Wimbledon, and you must have a hundred and one things to do.’
‘A thousand and one,’ Meryl agreed ruefully, ‘but I needed the luxury of a familiar shoulder to cry on.’ She acknowledged Christy’s comprehensive look with a wry smile. ‘Oh, don’t feel sorry for me; after all, I stay with him by choice, but there are times when I wonder if I’m just a fool, or a masochist. I tell myself that deep down there somewhere he loves me.’
She grimaced slightly as Christy interrupted fiercely, ‘He does, Meryl. I know he does.’
‘I wonder. That’s what I’ve always told myself, but now I’m beginning to wonder. It wouldn’t be so bad if the others all shared your moral code, Christy.’ She saw her start with surprise and allowed herself a grim smile.
‘Oh, I might be stupid, but I’m not dense. Women like me with wandering husbands soon learn to recognise the signs. I must admit that with you it took a bit longer than usual. It was when he wanted to buy you that fox that the truth dawned.’
‘But you still…’
‘I chose it for you because it was a present that you richly deserved. I must admit that for a while I wondered if you’d be able to resist him. In fact, I couldn’t see how you could. He can be very persuasive when he wants to be…but when you said you were going to resign I knew then that I had nothing to worry about from you.’
Christy saw the tears standing out in Meryl’s eyes and cursed David for his insensitivity. Never had she been more glad that she hadn’t given in
to the physical impulse to take David as her lover. She could never have faced the grief and torment in Meryl’s eyes if she had.
‘Oh, and I promised myself I wouldn’t behave like this. It’s just that…’ Meryl broke off, and as Christy looked at her she realised that she had put on weight, and that she was moving less briskly than usual.
Meryl watched her and then said tiredly, ‘Yes, ridiculous, isn’t it, at my age? And what on earth David will say I don’t know. At the moment he thinks I’ve just been indulging in a bout of over-eating, and I want him to go on thinking that way, at least until we’re all safely established in Hollywood. If I tell him that I’m pregnant now, he’ll seize on that as an excuse to leave me behind. And we all know what happens to wives who get left behind, don’t we? A temporary separation all too often becomes a permanent one.’
‘You’re having a baby!’
‘Thanks,’ Meryl said drily. ‘You’re doing wonders for my ego.’
‘Oh no, I didn’t mean it that way…’
‘No…I know. It came as something of a shock to me as well, I can tell you,’ Meryl confided, leading the way to her parked car. ‘To say nothing of what it’s going to do to David. It was a genuine accident, but remember—not a word to him.’
The traffic was very heavy and Christy didn’t try to distract her companion by trying to talk to her, but at last they were out of the city and heading for the Galvins’ comfortable house in Wimbledon.
‘David’s out, and the kids are at school,’ Meryl told her as she unlocked the front door and led the way into the comfortable study that David worked in. ‘He stormed out in something of a huff. No doubt he’s gone round to see Mirabelle Hastings for sympathy and comfort.’
There was an edge of bitterness to her voice that Christy wasn’t used to hearing. ‘He’ll get tired of her eventually, Meryl.’
‘Yes, I know. He always does. But what I’m not sure about any longer is whether I’ve got the resilience to make myself wait. I always used to tell myself that I was lucky to be married to a man like David, and that because he is the man he is I must just pay the price that being married to such a man demands, but just lately I’m beginning to wonder if I wouldn’t have been better off married to someone else—someone who puts me first and not himself.’