And hadn’t life-sharing been there at the back of her mind? A crazy little notion that had given her an illicit thrill late at night after he had returned to his bedroom, leaving behind him his scent, the indentation of his body on her bed, the intangible reminder of his presence.
With her hand on the door to her room, she turned to see that the woman had followed her up the stairs.
‘I guess you think you’ve won?’
‘I think maybe we’ve both been losers.’
‘Don’t even try to lump me in the same boat as you. Look at you—you’re…you’re not even anything to look at!’
Elizabeth had to crane her neck upwards to meet the blonde’s eyes. She felt very calm now in the face of that insult.
‘I may not be much to look at, but I would never chase after a man who’d dumped me,’ she said quietly. ‘Does Andreas even know that you’re here?’
‘Of course he knows! I telephoned him yesterday.’ The cut-glass accent was thick with scorn. ‘In fact, I think it’s safe to say that seeing me will probably remind him of what he’s been missing. You may have had him because you made yourself available—and in this neck of the woods why not take what was on offer?—but believe me, sweetie, Andreas’s heading back to civilization, and you won’t be joining him.’
‘I know that,’ Elizabeth whispered without thinking. ‘And so does he. I’ve already told him.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Andreas. He asked me to move in with him and I turned him down.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Best thing I ever did. So you’re welcome to him! And good luck to you both. You deserve each other.’ She opened the door but got no further than sticking one foot inside the bedroom, because she found that the blonde’s long, manicured fingers had reached out to grip the side of the door.
‘He asked you to move in with him?’
‘I don’t want to talk about this. Please. Just go.’
‘He asked you to move in with him? Why would he do that? He told me about you, how you just appeared here from nowhere…’ The blue eyes were narrowed menacingly on Elizabeth’s ashen face. ‘He would never have asked you to share his house. Never.’
She turned around and stalked off down the corridor, leaving Elizabeth staring at the erect back and feeling weirdly as though she had been catapulted into a horror movie, one in which everyone knew the lines except her.
Where had the blonde disappeared to? To Andreas’s room? Was he there?
What would be the point of him hanging around now? James was virtually back to his old self, and if he had been inclined to prolong his stay because of her then that reason was no more. Besides, wasn’t the blonde right? Next to her, Elizabeth was as physically appealing as a piece of mouldy cheese.
She forced herself to have a very long bath, to wash her hair and then blow-dry it, in the hope that by the time she finally showed her face downstairs Andreas and the witch might have already left. The house was so quiet at seven, when she eventually went to the sitting room to find James, that she almost started believing her own piece of fiction.
It was therefore with some shock that she pushed open the sitting-room door to find both Andreas and James sitting in frozen silence opposite one another.
‘We have company!’ James barked, glaring at his godson. ‘Some stray vermin managed to find its way into my house.’
‘Do you mean the blonde?’ She had imagined that she would be wracked with nerves, coming face to face with Andreas, but in fact she felt icy calm. ‘I know. I met her. Apparently—’ she stared at Andreas without flinching ‘—she’s your girlfriend.’ Elizabeth was gratified to see him flush darkly, and she moved to stand behind James with her hands on his shoulders because she needed the additional moral support. ‘You should have mentioned her to me, Andreas. I’m sure she would have enjoyed visiting.’
‘She’s visited,’ Andreas said abruptly, standing up to help himself to another drink from the wine decanter on the table. ‘And now she’s on her way back to London.’
Elizabeth was further enraged to notice just how cool and composed he was, whilst she was seething with anger and finding it hard to control her shaking.
‘Surely that’s a bit rough? I’m sure there’ll be enough supper to go round…’
‘You’re overstepping your brief,’ Andreas said in a clipped voice. ‘When I want your thoughts on possible dinner-guests, I’ll ask for them. And I’ve spent long enough discussing Amanda with my godfather, so why don’t you tell me where you’ve been all day?’
‘Relaxing.’
‘Do I pay you to relax?’
‘My workload was up to date. I felt like I needed a break.’ She received a morale-boosting squeeze of the hands from James, which didn’t go unnoticed by Andreas. Foul mood that he was in, he glared at her. What, she wondered, did he have to glare about?
‘Now, children! I’m too old to endure bickering, and I’m certainly too old to endure your totties racing down here, Andreas.’
‘She’s not my totty,’ Andreas said through gritted teeth. ‘Amanda and I were a done deal.’
Would that have been just about the time you decided you needed a change of scenery? Elizabeth wondered as jealousy bit through her. If James hadn’t been there, she would have done more than just ask him that, because in the mood she was in she wanted to do more than just ask a bunch of questions to which she already knew the answers. She wanted to fling something hard and heavy at him. Never had she felt so shaken in her life before, and she knew why. Andreas had changed her and she didn’t appreciate the change. She had morphed from an easy going, amiable person—a person who avoided mood swings and tried very hard to hang on to her composure; a person who had learnt great reserves of patience, having taken care of her mother for so long—into a firebrand. She found that she was clinging like a limpet to James’s shoulder and she took a few deep breaths and moved around to sit down.
Would the conversation struggle towards normality? she wondered. While Amanda packed her case upstairs and vanished back towards London.
Elizabeth would never know the answer to that one because no sooner had she sat down—blessed relief for her legs which felt like jelly—than the door was pushed open and there was Amanda, framed in the doorway like an avenging angel.
The trouser suit was gone, replaced by a red dress that hugged her body like cling film. Elizabeth realised that, while Andreas had doubtless been in the sitting room trying to placate James, Amanda had taken the opportunity to have a bath and freshen up.
For a few seconds both James and Andreas seemed to be frozen to the spot. James disapproving and working himself up to one of his famous rants, and Andreas’s hard features stamped with icy disdain. Elizabeth almost felt sorry for the woman because there was nothing Andreas loathed more than a scene, as he had once told her in passing. And Amanda certainly looked like a woman on the verge of causing a very big scene.
She stepped into the room and waved a bundle of papers at them, at which point Elizabeth felt the room begin to spin around her. She made to get up and then immediately collapsed back onto the sofa.
‘Just thought you’d like to have a look at these!’ She smiled triumphantly at Elizabeth. Between her grasping fingers, the faded blue envelopes were instantly recognisable.
‘You have no right…’
‘Oh, I think everyone in here will agree that I had every right to tell them exactly what you are! And I can’t imagine what took you so long. Did you think that you needed to spend some time buttering the old man up before you staked your claim?’ Amanda’s china-blue eyes were cool, amused and smugly satisfied that pay-back time had arrived. ‘Well, good luck.’ She spun round without glancing in Andreas’s direction. It was a magnificent spin, a neatly executed twirl which ensured that every aspect of her fabulous body was rev
ealed, a timely reminder to her ex of what he would be missing.
Elizabeth had no time to feel jealous because she was way too busy feeling terrified. Her eyes were glued to the bundle of envelopes which had been casually dropped on the old, mahogany table in the middle of the room. On the one hand, she wanted nothing more than to dash to the table, snatch up the envelopes and run away as fast as she could. On the other hand, she was overcome by a sense of fatalism. What would be, would be.
She gradually became aware of both Andreas and James staring at her. Amanda had left with a flourish, although Elizabeth couldn’t have said exactly when.
Andreas was the first to break the silence.
‘Are you going to explain what the hell that was all about?’ He glanced at the envelopes burning a hole on the table, and knew that all the vague suspicions he had entertained about her were now going to be proved. Little Miss Innocent looked as guilty as sin with her colour up and her fingers twisting restively on her lap.
‘May I have a word with James privately?’ Elizabeth ventured and Andreas shot her a look of rampant incredulity.
‘Well, in that case…’ She took the bundle of letters and handed them to James, along with his reading glasses, which were in the top pocket of his shirt and which he constantly forgot. ‘Do you remember a woman called Phyllis? You met her, well, over twenty-five years ago. She was thirty-two at the time and you were in your late forties. She was crazy about you, except she didn’t know at the time that you were already married…’
James looked at her on a sharply indrawn breath as his quick mind connected the dots, and he reached for the bundle of envelopes. His hand was shaking. ‘I remember her,’ he said quietly. ‘I used to call her my vanilla milkshake, because of the colour of her hair and because she brought such sweetness and pleasure to my life.’ Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and he rubbed them away with his fingers. ‘Her nose was not unlike yours, my dear. I’m afraid I can’t quite bring myself to read these just yet. May I hold on to them for a while?’
‘I would have told you sooner.’ Elizabeth knelt next to him and lowered her head. ‘I so wanted to get to know you. Then when I discovered that you were ill, that your heart was weak… I kept putting it off, and then it seemed so big I was scared.’ When she felt his old hand on her head, she breathed a sigh of relief. The tension of the past months of uncertainty were finally released in tears which she allowed to flow freely down her cheeks. From behind her, she could feel Andreas’s eyes on her; she had no idea what he was thinking and she told herself fiercely that she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that she was accepted by her father. But she did care.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, sniffing.
‘So am I, my dear. But regret is a wasted emotion, so enough of that. Andreas, my boy, it’s time to leave us be for a moment. We have a lot to discuss.’
* * *
It was two hours before Elizabeth emerged from the sitting room. James could still not bring himself to read the letters. She thought that he might read them in his room later, and in the privacy of his bedroom reflect on opportunities missed and chances wasted—although he had stood firm in his belief that there was nothing to be gained from regrets.
For her part, she felt wrung out but at peace for the first time, possibly in her life.
James had retired to bed. Maria would bring him supper on a tray, he had told her, clutching the letters as she helped him to his feet. Now Elizabeth headed for the kitchen. When she glanced through the arched, leaded side-window in the hall, she was distantly aware that the red sportscar had vanished along with its owner. It seemed ironic that the fallout maliciously anticipated by Amanda had transpired into an act of kindness.
She swung into the kitchen and there he was, standing with a drink in one hand and giving the impression that he had been there waiting for her all along, knowing that she would want a fortifying cup of coffee after the recent upheaval. Except that the expression on his face wasn’t that of a man about to deliver a generous dose of sympathy and compassion.
Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks and waited for her heart to stop beating wildly, but of course if didn’t. All the while she had been talking to James, she had been sickeningly aware of the further confrontation to come with his godson. Even though she told herself that whatever he said would be meaningless, because she wasn’t involved with him, and indeed had seen him for the man he really was—a man who picked up and dropped women without his conscience being bothered in any way. Amanda, dumped from a great height because he had discovered a newer toy, must have been distraught to have jumped in her car and driven all the way to Somerset for a showdown. It was crazy to see her as the bad guy, when the really bad guy was standing in front of her with an expression that could freeze water.
Elizabeth was far from confrontational, but on this occasion she decided that she would launch her attack before he had the opportunity to shoot her down in flames, which was what his glacial eyes promised. Going against her inclination to open her sentence with I’m sorry, I know you must be furious; please try to understand the position I found myself in, she said instead, ‘You never told me that you had a girlfriend. Never!’
The shock and hurt she had felt came back to her with remembered force, bolstering her confidence. Bitterness and anger were two very strong allies. ‘How could you? How could you string me along when you had a girlfriend in London? If I had decided to return to London with you—which I wouldn’t have—then what were you going to do with Amanda? Stuff her in a cupboard somewhere? Or were you going to juggle two women at the same time?’
‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’
‘You treat people as though they have no feelings, Andreas, and you do that because you have no feelings of your own.’
‘You dare stand there and talk about how human beings should treat one another? Before you claim the moral high-ground, let me just remind you that you’re a liar, and quite probably a gold-digger into the bargain.’ And that was about the calmest way he could have phrased it. Never had he felt so shell-shocked in his life, and furious with himself that he had been taken in. Hadn’t he known from the start that there was something fishy about her? And yet he had put all that to one side because he had been overtaken by something as utterly controllable as lust. In the presence of his godfather, he had been obliged to hang on to his restraint, but he had been saving his fury for when he caught her on her own. Did she think that she could wrong-foot him with a load of irrelevant questions about Amanda?
‘Were you sleeping with her while you were planning to seduce me?’
Andreas flushed darkly. Somewhere along the line his so-called planned seduction had become mired in the very real, very powerful attraction he had felt, and that in itself enraged him.
‘I don’t believe I’m obliged to answer questions of that nature.’
‘Well, why should I answer questions from you?’ She stood her ground in the face of his blazing anger at her unprecedented insurrection.
Andreas was finding it hard to equate the stubborn creature with her arms folded with the timid girl who had first introduced herself into James’s life. Into her father’s life. Unwilling to release his anger, he coldly thought that that timidity was what had been required of her at the time.
‘You came into this house in the guise of the caring assistant so that you could check out how the land lay,’ he drawled in a remote, icy voice that she hated. ‘And you tell me that you don’t see why you should explain yourself to me? That’s rich, coming from the woman who has felt free to stand on her soap box and preach to me about my so-called arrogance.’
‘I’m not a hypocrite, if that’s what you’re implying.’ But her balloon had burst and she could feel herself deflate. This was the man she loved, for better or worse, and speculating about what he thought of her was
killing her.
‘You came here under false pretences. How do I know that you are who you say you are? How do I know that you haven’t been light-fingered with someone else’s property?’
‘I haven’t. There are details about my mum that only I could know. Details that…that James knows as well. And I’m sorry about the false pretences. I would have said something a lot sooner, but…’
‘But?’ There was no point pursuing the doubt angle because she was telling the truth. Andreas could see that as clearly as he could see the fool he had unwittingly made of himself.
‘First of all, I didn’t want to upset James. And then it just got too complicated.’
‘I find it hard to believe that there could be all that many complications attached to announcing your identity in view of all the fabulous wealth you stand to inherit.’
Elizabeth blanched and stepped back as though she had been struck. How easy it was for passion to turn to cold-blooded accusations and hatred; she heard the hatred even though he hadn’t raised his voice. In Andreas’s black-and-white world, she had deceived him, and in deceiving him had committed an unforgivable sin.
‘I didn’t come here because I thought that there might be something in it for me, and it’s really horrible of you to suggest that. But then, I don’t know why I should be surprised.’
Andreas’s eyes tangled with her wide, green, disappointed gaze and something inside him shifted with exasperating ease. To think that he was feared and admired for his astounding self-control and ability to see things with dispassionate logic. It was pathetic!
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ It was a question he had not meant to ask, because just asking for any kind of clarification on the matter suggested weakness. ‘Scratch that. I’m really not interested.’
Elizabeth gritted her teeth and inhaled deeply, because standing up to Andreas was like trying to keep upright in a force-ten gale. ‘I’ll tell you anyway,’ she said in a rush, ‘because you always think that you can say whatever you want to say and hang the consequences. You thought the worst of me the minute I got here; I don’t know why I thought that getting to know me would have made you see that I’m not the kind of money-grabbing gold-digger you originally thought I was. I was stupid to think that you might have given me the benefit of the doubt.’
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