by Anne Mather
She turned to look at him again, and Jay’s eyes mirrored his feelings. He thought she was letting Liz influence her, when her friend’s reactions played little part in her uncertainties. Looking at him, aware of his physical attraction, remembering how he had made her feel only minutes before, she wanted to go with him; but something, some inner caution, some fear of what it might mean to her, held her back, made her wary, urged her to guard against compulsion.
‘All right, Liz, I’ll stay,’ she conceded, and instantly resented the expression of smug satisfaction that spread over the other girl’s features. As her eyes turned almost guiltily to Jay, she saw that he was already opening the door, and the words she might have spoken in mitigation were silenced as it slammed behind him.
CHAPTER FOUR
THEA took an interminably long time to open the door, and when she did it was obvious that Cassandra had got her out of her bed. She had dragged on her woolly dressing gown over her brushed nylon pyjamas, and her hair stuck comically through the hairnet she had worn to keep her rollers in place.
‘Cass!’ she exclaimed protestingly, blinking at her daughter-in-law. ‘Is there anything wrong? Is the building on fire or something? Do you realise it’s barely seven o’clock!’
‘I know.’ Cassandra entered her mother-in-law’s flat, and waited for her to close the door. ‘But I wanted to make an early start, and I thought I should see you before I left.’
‘An early start?’ Thea groped blankly for the couch, and sank down weakly on to its soft cushions. ‘Darling, you’re not trying to tell me you’re going to Derbyshire after all!’ She shook her head. ‘But last night you assured me you’d changed your mind.’
‘I had.’ Cassandra paced restlessly about the room, slim and attractive in a green corded pants suit, the trousers tucked warmly into knee-length leather boots. ‘But,’ she moved her shoulders jerkily, ‘it’s a fine morning, and the forecast is good for the rest of the day.’
Thea gazed at her disbelievingly. ‘The roads are still bad, Cass. There hasn’t been a thaw. Don’t you think you’re being foolhardy in attempting such a journey?’
‘I need the break,’ declared Cassandra tautly, linking her fingers together. ‘I’m not a reckless driver, and I promise I’ll take great care. I’ll ring you as soon as I get to Matlock, honestly.’
Thea gathered the lapels of her dressing gown together, still looking worried. ‘Cass, I don’t understand you. Why, when you went off to Liz’s party last evening, you said you’d rung Val and David and cancelled your weekend.’
‘I had.’ Cassandra spoke carelessly. ‘But I can change my mind, can’t I? They’ll have no objection. They’re not like that.’
Thea sighed. ‘Well, I can’t say I approve, Cass. It wouldn’t be so bad if you were going with somebody. But alone!’
‘I’ll be all right.’ Cassandra came to the couch and bent to kiss her mother-in-law’s cheek. ‘I’ll see you Sunday evening, right? About nine.’
Thea got to her feet as Cassandra walked towards the door. ‘Very well, if you’re determined.’ She made a helpless gesture. ‘Do be careful.’
‘I will.’ Cassandra forced a smile and stepped out into the corridor.
‘Oh, by the way—–’ Thea’s unexpected summons halted her.
‘Yes?’
‘That man came here last night looking for you—Jay Ravek. I gave him Liz’s address. Did you see him?’
‘Er—–’ Cassandra wet her dry lips nervously. ‘Er—yes. Yes. He turned up about nine o’clock.’
Thea grimaced. ‘I hope you didn’t mind my telling him where you were, but he said he knew Liz, so I was sure it would be all right.’
‘Oh—oh, yes. Yes, of course.’ Cassandra was purposely vague, but Thea wasn’t quite finished yet.
‘He’s very attractive, isn’t he?’ she persisted, shivering a little as the cool draught of air from the corridor penetrated the open doorway. ‘Did he bring you home?’
‘Heavens, no!’ Cassandra hid her clenched knuckles behind her back. ‘Look love, I really ought to be going—–’
‘Yes.’ Thea looked thoughtful. ‘He’s not the reason for this sudden decision to leave town, is he, Cass?’
‘No!’ Cassandra exhaled nervously. ‘I’ve told you, Thea, I need the break.’
‘But from what?’ remarked her mother-in-law drily, and Cassandra made her escape before any more awkward questions were forthcoming.
It had been hard enough stalling Liz the night before. After Jay’s peremptory departure, she had demanded to know how Cassandra had chanced to meet him again, and it had not been easy explaining about his visit to the studio.
‘So you had lunch with him,’ she declared tautly, her blue eyes cold and challenging, and Cassandra’s flushed confirmation had met with an angry accusation.
‘I told you what he was like,’ she exclaimed. ‘I warned you! God knows what might have happened just now, if I hadn’t come looking for you!’
At this point, Cassandra’s pride had reasserted itself. ‘What could have happened?’ she demanded hotly, a feeling of resentment swelling her determination not to be treated like a child. ‘He was hardly likely to try and make it in the lobby of your flat!’
Liz changed her tactics and gave an offended sniff. ‘Well, I’m sorry if you feel I’m interfering. I only want what’s best for you, Cass, you know that.’
‘Oh, Liz!’ Cassandra was meant to—and did—feel a heel. ‘Look, let me make my own mistakes, okay? I should be old enough to know better. But if I do fall flat on my face, then you’re quite at liberty to say ‘‘I told you so’’!’
‘I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.’ Liz’s concern was touching, and Cassandra felt contrite for lying to her in the first place. Yet what else could she have said? She could hardly allow Jay to be accused of gatecrashing, when she had so obviously been the reason for him still being there.
As luck would have it, their conversation was broken up at this point by the sudden influx of several more guests. They had obviously been partying elsewhere before coming on here, and in the general noise and confusion Cassandra was able to make herself scarce. In all honesty, she would have preferred to go home, and only the faint possibility that Jay might be sitting outside in his car, waiting for her to do just that, kept her where she was for another two hours. Surely it was too cold for anyone to wait that long, and to her relief when she finally went down to her car, there was no one about to molest her.
Now, in the grey light of dawn, she drove up the ramp from the basement garage and had her first taste of how slippery the roads still were. Even though the ramp had been salted the night before, the frequent passage of cars had melted most of it away, and her wheels spun uselessly at the first attempt.
Once out of Russell Place, however, she became more optimistic. The main thoroughfares in the city were almost free of ice, and she made good time in the quiet early traffic. Making for the North Circular Road, she was looking forward to getting on to the motorway, but she switched on the car radio to get an update on the weather report.
What she heard was not encouraging. Drivers were being warned that there was more heavy snow spreading from the north-west, and they were advised not to attempt any journey that was not absolutely necessary.
‘Rubbish,’ muttered Cassandra impatiently, glancing up at the distinctly overcast appearance of the sky. The motoring associations always looked on the black side, mainly to save themselves from being called out, she decided uncharitably.
Nevertheless, the traffic news that followed the weather report did give her food for thought. It transpired that the junction of the M.1 which she had hoped to use was closed, owing to several accidents, and motorists were being diverted via Barnet and Potters Bar. It seemed the best plan for her was to use the old A. 1 trunk road, in the faint hope that she might be able to rejoin the M. 1 at a later stage.
Of course, the diversion added miles to the journey, and beyond Stevena
ge, the dual carriageway narrowed to a single stream of traffic, with piles of snow heaped at the sides of the road. It was going to get worse, she thought unhappily, but still she pressed on, driven by the need to get right away from London.
She knew Thea had been right. Jay Ravek was behind this sudden urge to run. But it was crazy! What was she running from? After last night’s episode, she had few illusions that she would see him again. She had had to choose, and she had remained with Liz. However much he might be attracted to her, he would not forgive her for that.
So why was she here, driving in appalling conditions, miles from her home and the people who cared about her? She felt so mixed-up and confused, she hardly needed a reason. But perhaps it was because she was afraid of what she might do, if Jay made no attempt to contact her. And that was really the crux of the matter. She didn’t want to get that involved with anyone. She had wanted a relationship, yes, but not an obsession, and last night Jay had made her aware of how vulnerable she was where he was concerned. Perhaps what she had told Chris had been the truth: she simply attracted the wrong kind of men.
The signpost for Cambridge caught her attention. Just a few miles off to the east, and near enough to London not to create any problems driving back tomorrow. Why didn’t she stay there overnight, find a hotel, and treat herself to an unexpected flavour of luxury? She could ring her mother-in-law from the hotel and explain what she was doing, then drive home again tomorrow afternoon.
The decision made, she indicated her intentions and turned off the dual carriageway. Immediately the road deteriorated into a slushy track. It was still early, and although there had been some traffic on the road, snowflakes were already fluttering down again, covering the unsightly sludge and rapidly obscuring the signposts.
She had made her decision just in time, she reflected anxiously, as the snow thickened and the car’s windscreen wipers made heavy work of keeping it clear. If it was snowing like this in London, Thea would be worrying herself sick about her, and she began to feel rather selfish for having insisted on coming away.
She crawled into Cambridge soon after eleven, having taken fully an hour to cover the last ten miles. But once again the skies were clearing, even though it was still bitterly cold, and the blue sky overhead was a fitting backcloth to the spires of the ancient university city.
She parked near the city centre, and then, pulling on her hooded sheepskin coat over the jacket of her pants suit, she got out of the car and locked it, and walked towards the shopping precinct.
After a warming cup of coffee in a bar almost exclusively occupied by students she emerged, pink-cheeked, to look for a hotel. She scarcely looked older than a student herself, and the bold stares and ribald comments her presence had provoked had made her wish she’d been more circumspect in choosing her choice of venue.
She walked along St John’s Street and stood for a while on Magdalene Bridge, looking down into the fast flowing waters of the River Cam. Even at this time of year there were still visitors willing to stand on the bridge and survey the various colleges, but Cassandra was glad she was no longer a student. It was much more satisfying to work for herself, to see the results of her labours in much more practical forms.
When the skies clouded over again, a grey reflection in the water, she turned and walked back to the city centre, and the welcoming warmth of the King’s Arms Hotel. She chose it simply because she liked the look of it, and its low beams and narrow staircases more than lived up to her anticipations.
The room she was given overlooked the Arts Theatre, and although it was not large, it was reasonably comfortable and deliciously warm. The central heating was not appropriate to its surroundings, but it was efficient, and she sank down on to the bed gratefully after the porter had left her. She had still to collect her car from the car park, but she could do that after lunch, and the porter had assured her that he would find a place for it in the yard at the back.
With only a momentary hesitation, she reached for the telephone and gave Thea’s number to the operator. Then, waiting for it to be connected, she shed her coat and stretched out lazily on the bed. Let it snow, she thought indifferently, watching the huge flakes drifting past the window. She was snug and warm here, and for twenty-four hours she refused to contemplate the future.
When Thea’s voice came on the line, it sounded incredibly far away. ‘Hello?’ she said tautly, almost as if she expected the worst, and Cassandra’s sense of wellbeing evaporated abruptly as she realised how her mother-in-law must be feeling.
‘Thea,’ she said, lifting her voice slightly to compensate for the poor line. ‘Thea, it’s me, Cass. I just wanted to tell you all is well.’
‘Cass! Cass, where are you?’ Thea’s voice rose accordingly. ‘Oh, darling, I’ve been so worried about you. It’s done nothing but snow since you left.’
‘I know. It’s the same here.’
‘But where’s here?’ Thea sounded anxious. ‘Cass, you can’t have reached Matlock already. I just don’t believe it.’
‘Calm down. I haven’t.’ Cassandra drew a deep breath. ‘I’m in Cambridge.’
‘Cambridge?’
‘Yes, Cambridge.’ Cassandra sighed. ‘I decided you were right after all and turned back, but I’m spending tonight in this hotel.’
‘A hotel?’ Thea gave a troubled exclamation. ‘Cass, you haven’t had an accident, have you? The car hasn’t broken down or anything?’
‘No, no, nothing like that.’ Cass endeavoured to reassure her. ‘Only as I’d planned to come away anyway, it seemed a bit pointless to drive straight back to town.’
‘But why Cambridge? You don’t know anyone there, do you?’
‘No.’ Cassandra conceded the point. ‘But it’s a place I’ve often wanted to visit, and the King’s Arms is very nice and olde-worlde, and comfortable.’
‘The King’s Arms? That’s the hotel where you’re staying?’
‘That’s the one.’ Cassandra moved her shoulders helplessly. ‘You can ring me back if you don’t believe me. Honestly, Thea, I’m fine.’
‘No, no, I believe you.’ Thea sounded simply worried now. ‘I just wish I was there with you. I don’t like you staying in a strange place alone.’
‘Oh, honestly—–’ Cassandra exhaled impatiently. ‘Thea, I’m not a baby. I can look after myself. Why is it people persist in treating me like an innocent abroad? I’m not. I know what I’m doing. And now I’m going to enjoy some lunch before spending the afternoon sightseeing.’
‘But it’s snowing, Cass!’
‘I won’t melt,’ retorted Cassandra shortly, and rang off before she was tempted to say something stronger.
The dining room of the King’s Arms was small and intimate, a huge log fire giving off the scent of burning wood. There were horse brasses on the walls, and various hunting trophies, and the buffet tables in the entrance groaned beneath the weight of cold meats and salads.
Cassandra chose a hot meal, and seated by the leaded windows with an uninterrupted view of the street outside, she had soup, and roast beef, and apple pie with custard. It was the first meal she had enjoyed for days, and she wasn’t overly troubled by the occasionally speculative glances that were cast in her direction. The dining room had soon filled up, and she guessed it was a popular eating place at weekends. But to her relief, no one came to join her table for two, and she finished the meal with coffee before leaving the restaurant.
The afternoon took longer to fill than she had imagined. After a brisk walk to the car park, she drove the Alfa back to the hotel yard, and deposited her overnight bag in her room. Then, as the snow had not abated and a prolonged sightseeing excursion was out of the question, she spent a couple of hours looking round the shops, before going back to the hotel to watch television in her room.
The inevitable sporting programmes were of little interest to her, however, and the film on the alternative channel was too silly for words. Instead, she took out the book she had bought during her shopping spree, an
d applied herself determinedly to the exploits of its stalwart Georgian heroine.
‘Jane Austen would turn in her grave if she knew,’ she grimaced at last, throwing the book aside. For a supposedly well brought up young lady, the heroine of the drama had an unbecoming propensity for jumping into bed with every able-bodied man who took a fancy to her, and after reading of her panting surrender to the villain of the piece, Cassandra had had enough.
Leaving her chair, she walked to the windows, gazing down ruefully at the street below. It was after four-thirty, and in spite of the snow, darkness had fallen. Gradually the traffic was beginning to ease and people were hurrying home, and Cassandra knew an unwelcome sense of isolation at the thought of the evening ahead.
Turning away from the window, she surveyed her domain without enthusiasm. What could she do? She had little unpacking to trouble her. Apart from her nightdress and toiletries, she had only brought one dress with her, and she had hung that out earlier after she had collected the car. She could always take a bath or a shower, or simply hope there was something more inspiring on television, but somehow none of these alternatives held much in the way of entertainment.
With a sigh, she decided she would take a bath. She had fully three hours to fill before going down to dinner, and she seldom had time at home to enjoy a luxurious soak. With a feeling of relief at having come to a decision, she went into the adjoining bathroom and turned on the taps, before walking back to the bedroom to take off her clothes.
The hot water made her drowsy, and after the poor nights she had been having, it was no surprise that she found it difficult to keep her eyes open. It was so peaceful lying there, with only the muted sounds of the hotel to keep her company, and she lay back lazily, and made her mind a blank.
She must have dozed, because she awakened with a start to find the water had cooled considerably. She assumed that that was what had woken her, and with a little shiver, she climbed speedily out of the bath. She had obviously been foolish to linger in the water, and she chided herself impatiently for taking such a risk. If she had slipped and hit her head, she might have drowned, and she towelled herself vigorously to dispel the depressive influence of her thoughts.