The second collection of 3 great novels by Mary Burchell

by Burchell, Mary

  As though he found the conversation too much for him— which no doubt he did—Basil Hurton went over to the front door and, opening it, looked out into the night.

  "Fog's lifting a bit," he remarked over his shoulder.

  "Then if you'll let me have some of your gas, we'll be getting on our way. Can you give me any sort of idea howUo get onto a main road?"

  Hurton shut the door and came back into the middle of the hall.

  "Look here," he said, without looking at anyone in particular. "This is a silly sort of mess we've all landed in. The best thing we can all do is to get back to town tonight."

  Leoni heard Sophie catch her breath on a scornful, though not specially surprised, little laugh.

  "You may do exactly as you like, of course," Lucas's voice was cold, and at least as scornful as Sophie's laugh. "What about the eas?"

  "Why—why, I don't see any reason for not being obliging and—friendly over that. You can have some, of course."

  Lucas omitted to pick up the point about being obliging and friendly. He was obviously no more willing to play the complaisant husband than the outraged one.

  "Thanks. Don't be over generous. Leave yourself enough to get back, too. Whenever you choose to go, that is."

  "Oh. I'm going now. I mean—" He glanced quickly at Sophie, with a sort of nervous determination. "We're going now, too, aren't we, Sophie?" It was obvious even to Leoni that he was desperately anxious to retrace his footsteps on the primrose path before the husband could turn nasty and make his situation awkward. "You can see for yourself—" It was at Lucas that he looked that time, and there was something almost beseeching in his expression. "You can see for yourself that there's nothing in this little outing. Damned uncomfortable drive through the fog and a scratch meal in this place, and then straight back to town. Sounds silly, of course, but at least there's nothing in it."

  Lucas looked at him thoughtfully.

  "It sounds quite extraordinarily silly, as you say," he remarked dryly. "But that's your own affair. Now what about that gas?"

  "Oh, yes, of course—the gas. Come along." Hurton opened the door again. "I've got a flashlight. We ought to be able to manage all right. We'll both be back in town in less than an hour if it remains like this. Damned lucky the fog's lifting."

  "Damned lucky, "agreed Lucas's voice coolly as they disappeared into the night.

  For several minutes after they had gone there was silence. Leoni glanced at the other woman as she stood by the fire, one foot thrust out to the warmth, her arm along the narrow mantelpiece.

  Then Sophie spoke, without raising her slightly bent head, and what sne said was, "When did you first meet Lucas—and where?"

  "Oh, years ago. When—when I was quite a little girl.**

  " At Julia Vandeem's house? * *

  '' No. At the gate of the orphanage.' *

  "The gate of the what?'* She did look up then.

  "The orphanage." Leoni colored slightly under the unfriendly glance. "I was in an orphanage all my childhood, and—and I just happened to see Lucas outside the gate one day and spoke to him. '*

  "And do you mean to say that Lucas kept up some friendship with a child in an orphanage?''

  "Oh, no.'* Leoni saw no reason why she shouldn't explain the situation and, anyway, it was some sort of a help to fill in this awkward hiatus with harmless conversation. "I didn't meet him again for years. Then I did meet him at Julia's—when I was quite grown up. We—we remembered the incident at the gate, that's all."

  Sophie continued to look at her in that coolly appraising and unfriendly manner. Then at last she said slowly, "Yes. I suppose it's just the sort of romantic episode that would appeal to Lucas."

  Please don't imagine—I mean—there's nothing in the least romantic about it," Leoni exclaimed breathlessly.

  Sophie laughed. "Are you trying to tell me that Lucas's interest in you isn't a romantic one?" she asked with almost good-natured contempt.

  "Ofcourse it's not.^'

  Leoni felt herself go hot and cold as she said that. Hot because she suddenly knew beyond all shadow of doubt that his interest in her was romantic. Cold because she sensed instinctively that this woman knew it as well as she did. Indeed, Sophie smiled her famous skeptical smile and slowly shook her head.

  "Oh, no, my dear. You can't suppose I know Lucas as little as that," she said.

  Leoni sprang to her feet. She felt desperately that there seemed no way of handling this woman—or the situation. And, at the same time, she felt wildly exultant at what had just been revealed.

  It was true then. This woman who knew him so well sensed it as clearly as Leoni herself Lucas was romantically interested in her—fond of her—loved her—was in love with her. Call it what you would, the fact remained the same. In

  some indefinable way he was hers—Leoni's. And this woman to whom he had once belonged hated her for that fact.

  / don V mind being hated if that's the reason for it, thought Leoni at the very back of her mind. But something else—a little nearer the surface of common sense—told her that she must somehow try to shake Sophie's conviction.

  That was why she sprang up, in the instinctive effort to add indignant weight to any protest. But even as all this passed in a sort of confused flood through her mind, the door opened again and the two men came back into the house.

  She had no more time than to whisper angrily-and yet she felt unconvincingly, "It's not true," before Hurton announced, with something like satisfaction, "V/ell, the cars are both ready and the night's a lot clearer. The sooner we all push off, the better."

  He evidently meant that the sooner he pushed off, the better, and what happened to the rest was of no interest to him.

  Rather silently they put on their outdoor things. Then Leoni said conscientiously, "Ought we to leave a note for the woman who looks after the house? Explaining about our going, I mean."

  But Lucas shook his head. "She'll draw her own conclusions. The fewer notes we leave about, the better, I think," he added dryly.

  And Hurton: "Good God, no! Leave a note! What on earth for?"

  "Just so as to save someone else a little trouble and anxiety. But you wouldn't understand about that," Leoni retorted, surprised to find herself being uncompromisingly rude for prooably the first time in her life.

  There were no goodbyes between them. The two couples got into their respective cars and drove off more or less at the same time. Rut either Lucas was a bolder driver than Hurton, or else he was more anxious about the lateness of the hour. At any rate, in a very short while they left the other car behind.

  Evidently Lucas had received quite explicit directions and, in any case, the fog continued to thin. In less than a quarter of an hour they had emerged from the real fog belt.

  and were making their way through faint but useful moonlight toward the southwest outskirts of London.

  "We_won't be much more than half an hour now." It was the first time he had spoken since they had left the house.

  "Oh, Tm glad. That means I won't be too fantastically late. Not much worse than if I'd been to a theater and stayed out to supper."

  "No—would you like me to come in and explain?'*

  She considered that—and also the fact that auntie might still be up, since she favored very late hours.

  "I don't think so, thank you, Lucas. And anyway, I don't expect I shall go into elaborate explanations."

  ^'No?"

  She shook her head. "I'll stick to the truth, of course. But I won't go further than that we lost our way and ran out of gas, and that when we finally found a house we had to wait until someone else arrived and was able to let us have enough ^as to get home. Don't you think that's best?"

  "Possibly. Anyway, do exactly as you like. Don't think I want any part of the story suppressed, if you feel you would rather tell it."

  "Thank you, Lucas. I'll remember that—if it's necessary. But I'd rather not cause Mrs. Dagram uneasiness if I can help it. And I couldn't possibly m
ake the whole story sound anything but disquieting. She wouldn't blame me—I know that. But I don't see how she could fail to be worried. And it might well be all for nothing, mightn't it? We may not hear anything more about it."

  "We may not."

  "You mean you think we shall?" She glanced at him quickly but, in the subdued light of the car, could read nothing of his expression.

  "Frankly, Leoni, I don't know. All I do know is that I left home tonight determined to have some sort of a showdown with Sophie, after our conversation this afternoon. ..."

  He paused, and Leoni said "Yes?" rather breathlessly.

  "Well, it looks as though the showdown is coming of its own accord. That suits me all right, but—I'd give something to know what cards she has to play,'' he conceded grimly.

  "Y-yes." Leoni had not managed to get it all so cut-and-dried until that moment. She had known vaguely that there was some connection between the events of the afternoon

  and the events of the evening, but when Lucas put it as bluntly as this, she felt an urgent sense of impending crisis— and her tone reflected her disturbed thoughts. •

  He was quick to hear it, and to reassure her at once.

  '*Don't worry, my dear. She doesn't hold all the cards. And, anyway, I shall keep you out of this."

  "Thank you, Lucas," she said in a rather small voice, and hoped she was not being very cowardly in being devoutly thankful that she, at least, was to have no further part in handling Sophie.

  A few minutes later they turned into the familiar road and, even as the car drew up outside, the front door opened, to show Mrs. Dagram silhouetted against the light.

  "Oh, Leoni! Thank heaven," she exclaimed as Leoni hastily climbed out of the car, and she ran out to the gate to meet her.

  'Tm so terribly sorry. It was the foe—" Leoni began.

  "Yes, yes, of course, you poor child. We guessed as much. Trudie only got in half an hour ago."

  "Trudie did?" It seemed impossible, somehow, that someone else should have been experiencing a similar crisis. "Oh, Mrs. Dagram, this is Mr. Morrion. He brought me home the very first moment he could."

  "I'm sure he did." Mrs. Dagram evidently entertained no sort of suspicions on that point. "Won't you come in, Mr. Morrion, and have at any rate a hot drink before you continue your journey?"

  But though he thanked her, Lucas refused the invitation. Then he said good night to them both and drove away.

  Leoni, in spite of the cold and the lateness of the hour, had an absurd desire to stand there watching the car disappear into the night. But instead, of course, she had to be sensible and hurry in to the warmth of the Dagram dining room.

  Here, although it was now one o'clock in the morning, not only auntie but the whole family was assembled—even Pauline being present in a dressing gown, having apparently woken up and been allowed to come down again from bed on the pretext of welcoming the lost travelers.

  "Hello, Leoni!" Trudie waved a steaming cup of cocoa in her direction. "Wasn't it simply frightful? Where did you get stuck?"

  Leoni explained with truth that she had remarkably little idea where she had "got stuck,** and went on to give her account of the adventure as she had outlined it to Lucas.

  It was accepted at once—even auntie, from her corner by the fire, only shooting a bright and penetrating glance at her—and then Trudie capped the story with a sensational account of her own adventures.

  Leoni was made to have a hot drink, somewhat surprised everyone by refusing to have anything to eat, and finally departed to bed at what Trudie rightly described as a grisly hour.

  It was too late even to lie awake worrying about what had happened or what might happen. Leoni slept dreamlessly through a short night, worn out by cold, excitement and travehng.

  The next day, with its normal Mondayish routine, was so ordinary and almost dull that it seemed ridiculous that life could ever have presented itself in the rather melodramatic terms of the previous evening. After all, thought Leoni, suppressing a yawn, the ordinary person simply doesn *t get involved in situations with angry, scornful wives, doubtful men friends, and misunderstood husbands. It's absurd. The whole thing must fizzle out into normality again.

  But no sooner did she think she had argued herself into that comforting belief than she found, to her surprise, that she was thinking— When will he see her? What will they say to each other? Was it really because of my protest that he suddenly decided, after all these years, that he must find a way out?

  And then, whatever reason he might have for deciding to find a way out at last—what were the chances of his doing so? That, perhaps, was even more interesting than the other

  incurrmg tuous rebute.

  Somewhat chastened, Leoni accejpted both the rebuke and the spumed work, and returned to her typewriter to correct the mistakes. But, inevitably, she also returned to her previous line of thought.

  Lucas had been right, of course, when he said that Sophie by no means held all the cards. The contemptible Basil

  Hurton had been painfully anxious to demonstrate that there was *'no harm done" on their abortive trip the previous evening. But could one really suppose that this was the first time Sophie had embarked on such an adventure?

  Leoni had little experience to guide her in such matters, but some instinct told her that Sophie Rayter was probably in the habit of taking a certain amount of unorthodox fun where she found it. Very discreetly, naturally, because she would not want any scandal. But, unless Leoni were greatly mistaken—she took it.

  Then that would mean, of course, that Lucas had been mistaken all these years in supposing he had no grounds for divorcing Sophie.

  Now he knew the real situation. Now he must be realizing, when he thought it all over, that he was in a pretty strong position. It was even odd, Leoni thought, that he had not realized it more clearly last night. He had certainly been grimly disquieted, rather than elated. But he had probably weighed everything up more thoroughly now. And he was in no mood to be put off—Leoni was sure of that. If there was a chance of divorcing Sophie, there was not going to be any hesitation about it this time.

  And after that?

  Well, Leoni thought, perhaps it was not for her to look any further ahead than that point. She could, however, admit to herself that on the day she heard Lucas was no longer married to Sophie Rayter, her heart would lose a weight that had lain there ever since the moment he had said,"! thought you knew—she's my wife."

  Somehow Leoni managed to get through the rest of the day without further mistakes, though not by the furthest extension of the truth could it be said that her mind was on her work.

  Then Tuesday slid uneventfully past. So did Wednesday—and then Thursday.

  Nothing happened. No word came from Lucas. And although Leoni could not have said for what she was waiting, the feeling of tension and expectation grew almost unbearable.

  She tried to imagine a dozen reasons why she heard nothing from him. She tried to tell herself that any day now the mail would bring a letter, or the telephone would ring

  for* her, or even that she would be sent for to come to his office.

  But none of these things happened.

  Slowly and painfully a whole week went past. And then another. Still there was no sign from Lucas.

  Early in the third week Norman telephoned.

  **Leoni, it's such a long while since I've seen you! IVe been out or town of I would have phoned you before. Can *t we arrange something for one evening this week?"

  To Leoni, too, it seemed a long time—oh, weeks and weeks—since that evening she had gone dancing with Norman. But she remembered it was little more than a fortnight really, and felt grateful to Norman for the suggestion that he had missed her, even in so short a time. After all, if one were sensible, one must keep up other interests and think of other people besides the only one who really seemed to matter.

  So she answered quite truthfully, "Oh, Norman, I'd love it! When?"

  *' Are you free
tomorrow night? *'

  She was, of course, free the following night and said so.

  "Very well, then. Meet me after the office and we'll do a show. Have dinner with me first. Never mind about dressing. I'll come to the office for you, shall I?"

  "Please, Norman. Oh, how nice! I shall look forward to it."

  She heard him give a rather pleased little laugh before he bade her goodbye and hung up. And she stood for a moment with the receiver in her hand, thinking how kind he was and how easy to be with. And he didn't mind being seen collecting her from the office.

  Well, of course, that was rather unfair. Lucas didn't mind being seen. He was only considering her. At least, that was what he implied. But why didn't he give some sign?

  Anyway, it would be lovely to go out with Norman, free from any restrictions or anxieties. Just go out and enjoy oneself, like any other lighthearted girl going out to have a good time.

  Irresistibly her spirits rose, and by the time she went down to join Norman in the entrance hall of the big building the next evening, pleasurable excitement had

  Take Me With You J 53

  brought back a sparkle to Leoni's eyes, which had certainly been missing during the last couple of weeks.

  He was standing before the big black and gold notice board, apparently studying its contents with interest. And as she came down the last flight of steps, Leoni watched him with amusement and something lilce affection, recalling Julia's description of him as "good-looking and yet reliable." He seemed both of those to Leoni at that moment, and she was very, very glad to be going out with him.

  Then, as she reacned the bottom step, and even before Norman could turn to ereet her, two things happened.

  The big revolving door at the entrance turned ponderously on its axis to admit Sophie Rayter—beautiful, self-assured and expensive in mink. And at the same moment the doors of the lift slid back, and one of the people who stepped out from its mahogany-panelled opulence was Lucas.