by Anne Mather
Lewis noticed her disturbed expression and said urgently:
“Is anything wrong, Karen? You look pale.”
“Paul has just arrived,” she replied, concentrating on her feet. “He hasn’t seen me, I don’t think. He’s with Ian Fellowes and his wife, and another woman who must be Ruth, I suppose.”
Ian Fellowes was an old school friend of Paul’s, and he and his wife had been frequent visitors at their house in the old days.
Lewis frowned angrily. “My God!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been to dozens of these charity affairs and he’s never turned up before. Why has he decided to come tonight?”
“He wasn’t engaged before,” replied Karen, running a tongue over her suddenly dry lips. “Ruth probably persuaded him.”
“Probably,” Lewis nodded glumly. “Do you want to sit down?”
“Please.” Karen felt like making herself as inconspicuous as possible. “I feel like a drink, just at the moment.”
“Of course.” They went back to their table which was fortunately across the hall from Paul Frazer’s party. Karen was able to observe them when no one was dancing, without them being able to observe her. She sipped her gin and vermouth and accepted a cigarette from Lewis, allowing herself to look across at Ruth. She was curious to see what kind of woman Paul was going to make his second wife.
She saw Ruth was wearing an elaborate ball gown of pink satin, overlaid with lace. Small and vivacious, Karen could see she was very attractive. If Paul could dwarf Karen who was a tall girl, he would certainly be much taller than Ruth who was very petite and probably made him feel rather protective towards her.
The dancing began again and they were obscured from her view. She looked at Lewis and found he was watching her.
“So that’s Ruth,” she said lightly. “She’s very pretty, isn’t she?”
“I suppose so,” remarked Lewis, frowning. “However, I prefer blondes myself. She seems rather talkative.”
They had both noticed how Ruth monopolized the conversation, and continually attempted to draw Paul’s attention to her.
“You’re biased,” said Karen, with a smile, and she sighed.
Lewis swallowed his drink and signalled the waiter for two more. “I wonder what Sandra will do if she stops seeing Simon?” he said suddenly. “I think she needs a firm hand. Your mother should have married again.”
“Oh, Paul used to control her,” remarked Karen idly. “She adored him!”
Lewis’s face hardened. “Then maybe I could do so too,” he said.
Karen flushed. “I doubt it, Lewis.” She looked into his lean pale face. She knew that Lewis had not the necessary power to control a teenager like Sandra. He had had no experience, for one thing. Paul had always controlled Simon in his youth and Sandra had obeyed Paul partially because of his dark good looks and magnetic attraction. He had charm, there was no denying it, and Sandra had fallen victim to that charm. She had imagined herself in love with him and had treated his every wish as her command. Lewis was not likely to appeal to her in that sense. And besides, Madeline did not like Lewis herself, whereas she too had doted on Paul.
Karen smiled at Lewis now and said: “Lewis darling, I think not. Sandra’s hardly your type, or you hers, but she always thought she was in love with Paul. She used to trail after him like a lapdog. I don’t think she ever saw anyone else.”
“I see.” Lewis was taken aback. The idea of Sandra imagining herself in love with Paul Frazer had never occurred to him. He found the idea distasteful.
Karen finished her cigarette and rose to her feet.
“Excuse me a moment,” she said. “I’m just going to the cloakroom. I shan’t be long.”
“All right.” Lewis looked up at her and rose abruptly to his feet. “I’ll wait here.”
She smiled and slipped away between the tables, threading her way to the door, seeking the cool air of the hall. What she really needed more than anything else was air.
She fanned herself with her evening bag and wandered slowly along the corridor to the cloakroom. The hall was thickly carpeted, pillars supporting the roof here as in the ballroom. It was all very modern, but Karen liked it. She had almost reached the cloakroom when she saw Paul.
He was leaning negligently against one of the pillars, smoking a cigar and talking to another man. He looked big and broad and attractive in a dinner jacket, his tanned skin contrasting sharply with the brilliant whiteness of his dinner shirt.
Feeling a surge of excitement, Karen strolled towards them and her approach caused Paul to glance her way. His handsome face showed no surprise and she assumed he had seen her even before she had noticed him.
Looking at him she wondered why she had allowed Lewis to persuade her that a divorce from Paul was the best thing. Left alone, she would probably have gone back to him, and tonight that seemed a most desirable occurrence. Had he not divorced her, she knew she would never have divorced him, and she would still have been his wife. Now, as his eyes met hers, he looked so cool and aloof that she felt anger at his apparent complacency.
However, he straightened and dropped his cigar to the floor and ground his heel on it. He was obviously not going to ignore her and Karen felt unreasonably glad. His companion looked round too and saw her, and Karen saw it was no one she had ever been introduced to.
“Hello, Paul,” she murmured, overwhelmingly pleased that she was looking her best in the new evening gown. She had wanted Paul to see her and now she was getting her wish.
“Karen,” he nodded, his eyes unfathomable. He turned to his companion, a man of about thirty-five, with fair, unruly hair, and a cheerful, carefree expression. Before he could introduce Karen, however, the man smiled jovially and said:
“Come on, Paul, won’t you introduce me? You seem to know all the most delightful girls.”
Paul half smiled, and Karen wondered what was going through his mind. Was he thinking that Ruth was twice as delightful as herself?
“Karen,” he said, “this is Anthony Stoker – Sir Anthony – an old friend from my university days. Tony, this is Karen … Stacey.” He hesitated an infinitesimal moment over her surname as though he still thought of her as Karen Frazer.
“Hello,” said Karen, smiling, and Tony shook her hand vigorously.
“How do you do?” he replied in return. His hand was large and calloused but perfectly manicured. Everything about him was big, in fact what he lacked in looks he made up for in personality. He seemed a warm-hearted, amiable man, and Karen took an immediate liking to him. He was not the kind of man to whom she could be attracted, but he would make a good friend, she thought.
“I’m fine,” she replied politely. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
“Very much,” replied Tony. “I helped to organize it, actually.”
He smiled at them both beneficently and then suddenly exclaimed: “My God, Paul, the penny has just dropped. Is this – well, I mean – the girl who was your wife?”
Paul shrugged his broad shoulders. “She was my wife many moons ago,” he said coolly, and Karen felt her cheeks burn.
“Heavens! Talk about fools rushing in, etc! Have I made a complete ass of myself, Paul old boy?”
“Not at all,” replied Paul easily. “Karen is a very attractive woman. She knows that already, I’m sure.”
Karen’s flush deepened. She hated being discussed as though she were not present. Breaking into their conversation she began: “Are you alone, Paul?”
“Actually, I’m waiting for Ruth,” he replied, his eyes holding hers. “She’s in the ladies’ cloakroom, I believe.”
“Oh, I see. I saw you arrive earlier.”
“I know you did,” remarked Paul calmly. “I saw you across the room when we sat at our table.”
Karen shivered. She had been quite unaware that her observation had been returned. What had he thought? Had he thought her intensely curious?
“I see.” She cast about in her mind for something to say. The conversation so far had been v
ery uninspiring, and she wished she could think of something witty to say to make them laugh.
“By the way,” she murmured at last, looking up at him through the long veil of her lashes, “thank you for speaking to Simon.”
Paul looked slightly uncomfortable, as she had intended he should. Tony looked on, obviously immensely intrigued at this turn of events.
“I didn’t have a chance to thank you properly, yesterday,” she continued determinedly.
“That’s all right,” replied Paul stiffly, while his eyes sparkled dangerously, daring her to say anything more.
Karen looked at Tony. “Don’t mind us,” she murmured, smiling. “Paul and I are still good friends, aren’t we, darling? After all, we’re civilized people, aren’t we? Not primitives. We’re able to be quite natural with each other. Aren’t I right, Paul?”
“Perfectly,” replied Paul coldly, but his eyes were positively glittering with menace now.
Tony broke the unarmed combat by saying:
“How about returning to the ballroom with me, then, Karen? I’d like to dance with you, if I may.”
Paul stiffened at Tony’s words. Karen was conscious that for some reason, Paul did not wish her to dance with Tony. Could he be jealous? No, that was ridiculous. He probably didn’t want a friend of his associating with a woman like her, or rather like he supposed her to be.
Ignoring his attitude, however, she replied: “Thank you, Tony. I’d like that, very much.”
“Good.” Tony looked back at Paul. “See you later then, old boy.”
“Of course,” Paul was aloof and Karen knew she had disturbed him, but whether seriously or not she could not know.
Tony took her hand and they returned to the ballroom. He turned out to be a good dancer for all his bulk, and was an amusing companion. He explained that he himself had invited Paul and his friends to this ball as his guests, and that his own partner had let him down at the last minute.
He joked about his title, which he did not take very seriously, and told her he farmed an estate in Wiltshire, that had been in the Stoker family for generations. They were not rich, for all their money was ploughed back into the land. That explained his calloused hands, and Karen admired him for sticking it out and not giving up. Had he sold the estate, he and his mother and sister could have lived in London in comparative luxury, but they loved the soil and preferred to live in Wiltshire and support their tenants.
From his description, the estate sounded delightful, and his family seemed genuine country folk, even if they were the local lords of the manor. His father was dead, he told her, and he and his mother and sister lived in a rambling old manor house overlooking the downs. Although he had known Paul since their Oxford days they had only met again recently and renewed their acquaintanceship. They has had lunch together a couple of times, and Tony had met Paul’s American fiancée.
Karen let him ramble on. She was vaguely interested, but her mind kept harking back to Paul. It was good to listen to his chatter while half of her mind was elsewhere. He was an undemanding partner and she followed him easily without any thought.
Once she caught sight of Lewis and felt her conscience prick her. He looked strained and almost angry about something, and when he saw her too and she waved, he merely frowned and ignored her. She felt worried and very guilty, and when the dance ended she explained that she was with her employer and that he was waiting for her.
“Oh, I say, really?” exclaimed Tony. “Well, do you think I might join you for a while? I feel rather a gooseberry with Paul, you know.”
Karen’s lips tightened, but she said: “Of course. Lewis and I are old friends. He won’t object, I’m sure.”
“Oh, good,” said Tony warmly. “I’d like the opportunity of another dance later, if I may.”
Karen smiled up at him and allowed him to retain hold of her hand as they returned to the table where Lewis was seated. He rose abruptly to his feet at their approach, and as he wasn’t a tall man, Tony dwarfed him both in height and bulk.
“Where the devil have you been all this time, Karen?” exclaimed Lewis in a cold and angry voice. “And who is this?”
“The name is Stoker, Anthony Stoker,” said Tony at once, not liking the other man’s tone or manner. “Who might you be?”
“Oh, please,” exclaimed Karen awkwardly, not understanding Lewis’s grim face. “Lewis, this is Tony, Tony, this is Lewis Martin, my employer.”
The two men shook hands with ill grace and Karen half wished she had left Tony behind.
“Tony was in the hall talking to Paul when I went to the cloakroom,” she explained. “Paul introduced us.”
“You mean Frazer again, I suppose,” said Lewis frowning.
“Of course.”
“I see,” Lewis looked at Karen, “And now perhaps you’ll dance with me, Karen.”
“Of course,” she said again, bewildered by Lewis’s possessive jealousy. She had never given him any reason to suppose they were anything more than good friends for all his talk of marriage, and she didn’t like to feel possessed like this. After all, he had no hold on her. She was a free woman.
They danced for a while in silence, and then he said in a strained voice:
“I suppose I ought to apologize. I’m behaving boorishly.”
“Yes, you are,” agreed Karen hotly, glad he had brought it out into the open. “What on earth is wrong with you? I’ve only been away fifteen minutes.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Lewis sighed heavily. “It must be patently obvious that I’m madly jealous. You wouldn’t know what that feels like, would you? Wanting someone so badly and knowing they don’t want you.”
Karen flushed. “Lewis … not now … not again …”
Lewis flushed too. “I know,” he muttered. “Don’t say it again. Just don’t flaunt young men in my face like this. I can’t help my feelings. I’ve come to the conclusion that you must be naturally frigid.”
“Frigid!” Karen almost laughed. The way even speaking to Paul caused the heat to flood her body; and Lewis thought she was frigid. She shivered. “Maybe you’re right,” she said at length, deciding to take the easiest way out.
“I’m convinced of it,” replied Lewis slowly, and looked searchingly at her. “But one day you’ll need a man again, Karen, and I intend to be around when that happens.”
Karen frowned at this, and did not reply. Lewis’s attitude was strange tonight to say the least and she presumed he must have been drinking too heavily all evening.
Back at the table, Tony lounged in a chair, waiting for them. He looked pleased to see Karen and got up swiftly and held her chair for her as she sat down. He really was good company, she mused, and he took her mind off Paul and Lewis for a while. She had even got around to thinking of Lewis as a problem now. Surely she was not going to have to change her job after all this time? But if Lewis became really impossible, something would have to be done. She couldn’t have him going around monopolizing her and spoiling her life.
She eventually got through the evening by dancing alternately with Tony and Lewis, but she found she now enjoyed the dances with Tony best. He was entertaining and asked for nothing in return, and his enjoyment of her company was simply because his own partner had not been able to come, and there were no strings attached.
Lewis was definitely not his usual self. He held her too tightly for her liking and she wondered if he was used to drinking as much as he had done. He breathed down her neck heavily and she felt stifled. She really thought he was having to hold his emotions in check by a severe effort, and she could only assume that Paul’s presence was in some way responsible. She had never seen him like this before and she began to realize she did not know him as well as she had thought.
Ian Fellowes worked for Paul in the Frazer building. He was a chief sales representative, and a good man at his job. He and Paul had been friends for a very long time and the difference in their status had never come between them.
Margaret
Fellowes was twenty-eight, the same age as Ruth. She and Ruth got along quite well together, although as Margaret had known and liked Karen she refused to discuss Paul’s first wife with his proposed second. This infuriated Ruth, who was by now avid for information about the first Mrs. Frazer. She had never even seen a picture of Karen. There were none about Paul’s apartment, and although this pleased her she would have liked to have known what Karen was like. She felt almost as though she had an invisible enemy.
Tonight, they had a table near the orchestra and they had all danced quite a lot. Ruth was not keen to dance with Ian, but when he asked her she did not like to refuse every time; but it meant that Margaret danced with Paul, and although it was ridiculous, jealousy consumed her at these times.
She was pleased with her dress with its layer of lace over satin. It was just the thing to complement her pink and white colouring and she felt sure Paul admired it, even though he rarely commented on her clothes. Margaret’s dress was grey crepe and in Ruth’s opinion it had seen better days. She felt quite sure that she was far more attractive in Ian’s eyes too, but Paul showed no signs of jealousy. It was annoying really because she would have liked to have aroused Paul in that way, but these last few days since his lunch with Karen he had become cool and aloof, and she couldn’t understand it. Ruth was not used to being denied anything. Her parents had spoiled her terribly and indulged her every whim.
She sat now running her fingers along Paul’s immaculately clad arm, wondering what she could say to attract his attention. He seemed to be miles away, in spirit if not in fact. Earlier, he and Ian had been discussing some new textile they were manufacturing and she had been absolutely bored. She really wasn’t getting enough attention tonight.
Suddenly she noticed that a crowd of people were gathering around a couple who were dancing in the centre of the floor. The band was playing beat music and Ruth supposed somebody was making an exhibition of themselves. It might be interesting and amusing to watch them.