Chains of Regret

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Chains of Regret Page 6

by Margaret Pargeter


  It was quite late before they finished eating at a famous hotel, not renowned for its cheap prices. Helen, surprised to discover she was hungry, wished dismally that she could stop thinking of the cost when Stein encouraged her to try the most expensive dishes. It was futile warning herself he might guess what she was thinking. He seemed able to read her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to conceal them.

  Earlier she had toyed with the idea of calling on her father’s solicitor, but she didn’t get the opportunity, because Stein never left her. She sighed and gave up.

  Stein had asked her not to and she might be wiser to obey him. In only a few more days Harold Dent would be coming to see her at Oakfield.

  Around four, Stein said he must visit his flat as he had some papers to pick up among other things. Helen hoped he might leave her, but he insisted that she came along. She didn’t refuse as again she was filled with a suspicious curiosity she found impossible to resist.

  She missed the ironic twist of Stein’s lips as he waved down another taxi.

  ‘You’ll like it,’ he told her as they were borne swiftly towards the City.

  Helen had become used to having wine with her meals in France, but she had usually limited herself to one glass. Today, during lunch, she had imbibed much more than she normally did in an effort to rid herself of the. obsession she appeared to be developing regarding Stem and her money. If he was trying, or was going to try and do her out of it, she would know soon enough!

  If he had contrived to cheat her father, she would learn about that too. Somehow she couldn’t believe Stein was guilty of any of these things, even while the evidence was definitely against him.

  She saw it now, despite the wine which hazed her mind as they entered the luxurious apartment in the magnificent Barbican complex. It was superb! There was no other word for it. Helen drew a sharp breath, trying to conceal her stunned surprise. It had everything!

  ‘Like it?’ Stein asked carelessly, watching her expressive face.

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’ she tried to match his mood. ‘It must be a nice place to live - if you can afford it.’

  ‘The area isn’t cheap.’ He threw off his jacket with a sigh of relief.

  She swallowed, noticing the strength of his shoulders straining against his thin shirt. Through it she could see the dark tangle of hair on his chest and she wished he had kept his coat on.

  ‘Make yourself at home.’ His eyes ran restlessly over her slim figure. ‘I want to sort out those papers I mentioned as well as making a few phone calls. There’s a kitchen which I seldom use, but you might find enough to make us a cup of tea or coffee, while I’m busy.’

  When he had gone, Helen removed her own coat and wandered into the kitchen. It didn’t look like a kitchen; it looked like something out of one of those space ships one sometimes saw on television! The steel and chrome were dazzling, the tiles on the floor so spotless she doubted if they had ever known a human foot. She supposed as it was a service flat Stein just rang for meals when he wanted them and this saved him the bother of employing a housekeeper.

  Before the kettle boiled the doorbell rang, its melodious chimes echoing round her. It rang again, and as Stein didn’t appear to answer it, she decided she had better go herself.

  A beautiful, dark-haired girl stood outside and gazed at Helen enquiringly as she opened the door. ‘I haven’t seen you before,’ she said coolly. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  Helen’s eyes widened at the girl’s tone. She clearly wasn’t accustomed to seeing other girls in Stein’s flat, but Helen didn’t appreciate her icy stare.

  ‘Just looking,’ she returned, tongue in cheek but quite truthfully, for that was almost all she had done so far.

  The other girl frowned, but while she was obviously trying to decide whether Helen was just naturally dimwitted or trying to make a fool of her, Stein appeared..

  ‘Oh, Stein!’ The girl pushed past Helen with an exaggerated sigh of relief. ‘I rang Oakfield, but they told me you were in town and your secretary said you might be here.’

  ‘Barbara!’

  Helen stood flattened against the door watching them. So this was the mysterious Barbara? She slid her arm through Stein’s and hung on tightly, murmuring that she had missed him and wouldn’t mind a drink. As Stein glanced down on her, a faint smile on his face, something stirred inside Helen, a pain that made her flinch.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I hear the kettle boiling,’ she said.

  As if her voice made the other two suddenly remember she was there, they both turned their heads and looked at her.

  ‘Have you been engaging a maid, darling?’ Barbara asked coldly.

  Helen could have slapped the mocking quirk from Stein’s mouth as he studied the white tea-towel draped round her waist. Over her black dress it might just have passed for a uniform.

  ‘I’m considering her.’

  ‘I’d send her packing,’ to Helen’s astonishment Barbara apparently took him seriously. ‘She’s far too young, for one thing. I know we would all like to help the unemployed, but I’m renowned for my incredible intuition. She’d be nothing but trouble, darling.’

  ‘My sentiments exactly,’ he agreed solemnly.

  ‘Don’t you think the joke’s gone far enough?’ Helen snapped. If Stein felt like having fun he wasn’t having it at her expense!

  ‘You aren’t a maid?’ If anything the frown on Barbara’s face deepened and her voice spiralled.

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you,’ Helen wasn’t slow to I detect the anger in the other girl’s voice but made no attempt to hide her own irritation, ‘but I’m afraid you can’t get rid of me by-asking Stein to give me the sack. Now, if you’ll excuse me—’

  She banged the kitchen door on Barbara’s voluble indignation and Stein’s soothing murmurs. The room was full of steam and she hastily switched off the kettle.

  Taking a teapot from a cupboard, she thumped it down on a gleaming surface, but it didn’t make her feel any better. If Barbara was a bitch, so was she, she reminded herself forcibly. Barbara might not have anything to be humble about, but she had! She’d be willing to bet Barbara was no innocent little virgin, as she was, but that shouldn’t make her feel superior. Not when the sins of Helen Davis far outweighed her virtues! Beneath her temper, Barbara might be frank and honest-well, she was certainly frank! But if Barbara had been in her shoes she might never have treated her father and his partner so badly!

  Full of remorse, Helen made tea and put three cups on a tray. Making a great effort to look pleasant, she picked the tray up and returned to the hall. It was empty. She went to the lounge. It was empty too.

  Where was everyone?

  ‘Looking for somebody?’

  Stein had the kind of voice generally able to charm birds off trees. Helen did her best to ignore the way it teased her nerves.

  ‘Yes, I am!’ she flushed as she remembered how she had vowed to eat humble pie. ‘I’m sorry, Stein. I made some tea. I was looking for you.’

  ‘Three cups?’ he said, counting.

  ‘There are three of us…’

  ‘There were,’ he smiled grimly, ‘until you put your foot in it!’

  ‘I didn’t think she’d be so easily defeated!’ Helen grinned.

  Stein’s eyes became glacial. ‘I wasn’t aware you were fighting a battle, Helen, but I warn you, don’t insult any friends of mine.’

  Helen’s flush returned as she repeated. ‘I’m sorry, Stein, I didn’t mean to upset her. I’ll apologise when I see her again.’

  ‘If you see her again!’

  Helen glanced at him quickly. Did he intend keeping them apart, or was he finished with Barbara? She lowered her thick lashes slightly, surprised to find she still had enough courage to put out a feeler.

  ‘Misser—?’

  she halted enquiringly.

  ‘Bates,’ Stein supplied coolly.

  ‘—seems very nice.’

  ‘She can be.’ As Helen, su
ddenly realising she was still holding the tray put it down on a low table, he stared at her narrowly.

  ‘What did she want?’ Helen ventured, judging him to be more approachable. She should have sat down, but she felt too restless.

  He smiled slightly, a smile that made Helen feel startlingly angry.

  ‘You, I suppose?’ she spoke involuntarily.

  ‘Do you find it surprising?’ he countered dryly.

  ‘No,’ she confessed, but refused to look at him. It was enough that he must hear the sigh in her voice. She didn’t want him to see what might lie in her eyes.

  ‘Ah, a little honesty at last!’ He crossed to where she was standing and lifted her hot face to his, his gaze wandering closely over the beauty of her features, coming to rest on her tender, exquisitely shaped mouth.

  ‘It makes a nice change, if you mean it.’

  ‘It needn’t be personal,’ she said tersely.

  ‘So you can take me or leave me?’ he taunted. ‘Like something which catches your attention in a shop window and the next moment is forgotten.’

  If only she could! Carefully she tried to edge from him, reluctant to struggle. The way he held her head made the hair spill over her shoulders, like skeins of blonde silk, as the angle of her slender, willowy body bent backwards. His fingers tightened and held. They began burning her skin, slowly dissolving her desire for escape. She trembled, wondering how it happened, her mind slowly recognising its master.

  They might have been fused completely, as one. It was crazy, but she could actually feel the heat flowing out of him, penetrating every corner of her being.

  ‘It’s ridiculous!’ she gasped, determined to deny such incredible sensations.

  Stein presumed she was commenting on his last observation. ‘Our conversation, you mean? Maybe I agree. Talking never gets us anywhere. This remains our best line of communication, although I don’t expect you ever to admit it.’

  Unable to move, she staled at him as he mockingly lowered his head. He took his time, as if he knew she was incapable of resisting. In a kind of trance she watched him coming nearer, her eyes dilating as he slowly found her mouth.

  His lips were firm and warm, her heavy lashes fell as she succumbed to their gentle pressure. Then, as passion leapt between them, the transitory moment passed and she found herself clinging to him. They merged, like a storm on a dark winter’s night, as Stein continued to kiss her and once more her senses were flung into turmoil.

  The doorbell rang again.

  ‘That must be Paul,’ Stein sighed against her lips, feeling them quiver. ‘Are you ready to go home?’

  Helen couldn’t answer, not immediately. It was all she could do to open her eyes. There was no tenderness in Stein’s face, none of the frantic emotion she was experiencing. His eyes were darker, but filled only with a certain irony.

  Numbly she nodded to the question in his glittering, down-bent gaze as he released her.

  ‘I shan’t be more than ten minutes,’ he said. ‘Paul can wait.’

  She tried to shake herself out of an overwhelming daze, envying Stein his hard composure. Bitterness at such unshakeable assurance rose. In another man It might have seemed exaggerated, but not with him, damn him! She hated the arrogant tilt to his dark head that seemed to intensify the brilliance of the grey eyes coolly resting on her. What wouldn’t she have given to have seen him trembling just once, as she was doing!

  ‘Let Paul in and give him a cuppa in the kitchen,’ he muttered briefly, ‘but that’s all.’

  Helen frowned, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  ‘Don’t say it,’ he snapped. ‘I do mean what you think I mean!’

  The urge to hit him grew stronger, only restrained by a strange kind of sickness. ‘I’ll wait in here,’ she replied dully, ‘after I’ve made him his tea.’

  ‘Good.’ Stein suddenly relented. ‘Once I’m through, I’ll give you a quick tour of the place, if you like— ‘

  Helen’s spirit hadn’t been totally extinguished. ‘Now that is something to look forward to!’ she cried swiftly, turning her back on him with a truly feminine flounce.

  Angry fingers closed around her wrist, pulling her back to him, stirring her blood and making her pulses quicken.

  ‘I told you, don’t do that!’

  ‘How else do I leave you?’ Her blue gaze challenged him heatedly. ‘Do I back away from you with little bows? Is that what you’d like?’

  ‘You know what I’m getting at.’ He wasn’t taking her seriously, but there was a warning glint in his eyes, ‘Have your fun, if you must, but be sure you don’t live to regret it.’

  ‘I wonder you have the nerve to threaten me, Mr. Maddison!’ Helen exclaimed, his hold over her both physically and mentally driving her a little too near total madness. ‘I do own a lot you’d like to get your hands on. Maybe even half this flat?’

  His lids lowered, as swiftly as hers often did, but she was beyond noticing. Later she was to realise she had missed a lot of obvious clues.

  ‘That being the case,’ he drawled, ‘you might be asked to donate towards a new doorbell, seeing that Paul appears determined to wear the present one out.’

  Oh, Stein was shameless! She had to admire such total lack of conscience! He had all but admitted what she had suspected all along. Had he hoped she wouldn’t realise? Had all those ruthless, unavoidable-she used the word with emphasis to drown any suggestion of her own responsiveness-kisses been used as part of a programme to bring her to her knees? It c0l:lld be the answer for his hatred on their way from the airport had been too real to be disguised, even if he had tried hard to hide it since.

  No, he was merely playing a game with her, attempting to pull the wool over her eyes, while his sultry mistress—the worst villains always ad them —waited impatiently in the background! Stein probably hadn’t intended she should meet Barbara, which must explain why he had got rid of her so quickly. No one, unless they had something to hide, would normally have disposed of anyone so ruthlessly.

  The painful implications of this shook Helen with something more devastating than anger as Stein let go of her sardonically and she went to let Paul in.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WHEN the kettle boiled Helen made a fresh pot of tea and decided to share it with Paul. What did it matter what Stein thought? He might be annoyed if he found out, but she couldn’t go much lower in his estimation.

  ‘I’m not annoying you, am I?’ Paul asked.

  ‘No, of course not,’ she flushed, quickly smoothing the frown from her face. ‘I was thinking of something else.’

  Paul nodded, relaxing, stirring three spoonfuls of sugar in his tea.

  She watched, fascinated. ‘Is all that sugar good for you, do you think?’

  ‘If I drank much tea it mightn’t be.’

  He had a gentle, cultured voice, contrasting oddly with his rather bold eyes. ‘Have you worked for Mr. Maddison long?’ she asked.

  ‘Almost a year,’ he replied briefly, ‘since I left university.’

  ‘You couldn’t find anything else?’

  ‘I’m looking all the time,’ he grinned, ‘but jobs aren’t easy to find.’

  ‘No,’ she sighed, considering her own, untrained chances.

  ‘I’d rather do anything than sit around,’ Paul shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose I’d be driving for Mr. Maddison if my father hadn’t known him.’

  ‘Really?’ Interest kindled in Helen’s eyes, but Stein had to choose that moment to stalk into the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll show you around now, Helen, if you’re ready.’

  His fingers curved on her arm, this and his tone suggesting a degree of possessiveness she didn’t like. It took all her control to smile at him instead of shaking him off. ‘I’m ready,’ she said, putting down her teacup.

  In one of the bedrooms he drawled, ‘Don’t look at me so suspiciously. I don’t intend kissing you again, not with young Paul waiting.’

  Her eyes widened as she stared at him frostily
. The effect might have been better, she realised, if her cheeks hadn’t been so pink. ‘Paul’s been to university,’ she retorted. ‘Couldn’t you find him something better to do?’

  ‘Depends what you mean by better,’ he said.

  ‘You know what I mean!’

  ‘I’m trying,’ Stein replied mildly, ‘but it’s difficult. All the same, he’s a very bright young man. Don’t encourage him.’

  ‘Should that make sense?’

  ‘If you think about it.’

 

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