'I'm an old friend of Baba's; that's who I am. You only got engaged to her last week. Tonight you're here with someone else—and don't tell me you and Caroline Rendell were talking business out there on the floor, because I'm not stupid.'
'That's just what you are! You saw me dancing with someone and you're making a Federal case out of it, but you're wrong, you're jumping to conclusions—and anyway, it's all none of your goddamned business. If you go to Baba with this story you'll be doing it because you want to make trouble and for no other reason. You won't be doing Baba any favours. It may give you a kick to interfere, but don't pretend to be so damned righteous about it, because if you do tell her you'll only make her miserable and all over nothing.'
The music ended, Judith broke away from him and walked back to her table and Robert, her mind in confusion. Should she tell Baba? Or was he right? Should she just mind her own business and keep her mouth shut?
Robert looked at her curiously as she sat down. 'What was all that about? It looked from here as though you were having the row to end all rows. I half expected the two of you to come to blows any minute.'
'We were arguing over a matter of principle,' Judith explained. 'Robert, I'm tired—would you mind if we left now?'
He glanced at his watch. 'Nearly one—the time has flown! Sure, I'll get us a taxi.'
Across the room Judith saw Luke Doulton leaving; there were a group of other men with him, that much of his story was obviously true. His companions looked like businessmen who have been having a night out at the end of a business trip, and this was just the sort of place you take people like that to see. It was respectable and safe but gave the illusion of being glamorous and a place to have fun. Judith saw Luke clearly for a moment as he paused in the doorway, the brighter lights in the entrance showing her his hard, angry face. Then he had gone, and she waited for Robert to return with news of their taxi. Whether she told Baba about what had happened or not, she probably didn't have a job to go to on Monday, and she felt very depressed.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE didn't sleep that night; it infuriated her to lie awake hour after hour, brooding over Luke Doulton and his despicable behaviour. It was the first time a man had ever made her lose any sleep—Judith had never been much of a romantic, even in her teens; her common sense would not permit her to turn insomniac over another human being, and her thoughts now were light years from romance; more murderous than amorous. She kept seeing them out there on that dance floor, their moving bodies half shadow, but Caroline Rendell’s strangling arms around Luke's neck and his arms round her waist. He must really think she was stupid if he expected her to believe that cock-and-bull story about a client bringing Caroline along there; she should have laughed in his face when he came out with it—well, she had, in a sense; she had snorted disbelievingly and let him know she didn't believe a single word, but somehow that didn't make her feel any happier. It didn't seem adequate for the rage possessing her; she should have done something more positive, but what? Dim visions of boiling oil and thumbscrews drifted through her tired mind; people in the Middle Ages had had such creative imaginations. They didn't just snort with disbelief when people lied to them; bring out the thumbscrews, they said.
She wanted that job. The more she thought about having to turn it down the more furious she became—it was a chance in a million, not merely from the financial point of view, although the salary was pretty fantastic, but because she would move from comparative obscurity into a key position in one of the big multinational companies. Working so closely with Luke Doulton she would have far more opportunity to learn and at the same time to influence than she would ever have with Schewitz and Quayle; it was, in fact, the sort of job she might have looked forward to in five or ten years if she had gone on climbing the career ladder in New York. Even then, she would have been lucky to get it, because such places rarely went to women; they were the plum jobs and men usually got them.
A man, of course, would never have acted as she had done that evening. If he had seen Luke with another woman a week after getting engaged to someone else he would merely have grinned and admired his nerve and probably his stamina. He wouldn't have lost his temper and been rude to someone like Luke Doulton, he wouldn't have despised him or, if he had, he wouldn't have been open with his contempt, he would have hidden it and smiled like mad. He would have remembered how much he wanted that job and told himself that it was none of his business what Luke Doulton did; out of sight was out of mind, what the eye didn't see the heart didn't grieve over, and so long as Baba didn't find out she wouldn't get hurt. In these fraught situations a cliché was a great comfort, Judith thought, punching her pillow viciously and wishing it was Luke Doulton's head she was thumping.
It didn't make her feel any better to admit to herself that she had lost her temper or that Luke had been right, it was not her business. She wished to God she had never gone to that nightclub with Robert; she would never have seen Luke with Caroline, none of this would have happened and she would be starting work on Monday without a care in the world. Whatever vague suspicions she had had about Luke she would not have had them confirmed in such a graphic fashion, she wouldn't be asking herself what she was going to do when she saw Baba again; was she going to have to tell her the truth or lie? And—if she lied—how was she going to feel about that?
'You could simply forget it ever happened,' a little voice pointed out, inside her head. Oh, yes? Sounds simple, she retorted to it, but I don't happen to have a wipe-clean memory. From now on every time I see Baba I'm going to remember Luke with that other girl and I'm going to feel embarrassed and uneasy, so before long I'll be avoiding Baba like the plague because merely setting eyes on her is bothering me. And if I do tell her what a kingsize rat Luke Doulton is— Baba will be heartbroken, no doubt, and then she'll start avoiding me because I make her unhappy and she can't forgive me for telling her what she wishes she'd never known.
No, I'm trapped, she admitted, I can't move in any direction without breaking something, and it's all Luke Doulton's damned fault, the man is a menace!
Sunday dawned bright and clear, the only sounds you could hear were the chirping of birds building nests and the rattle of milk bottles as the milkman slammed them down and went whistling back to his float. Wide-eyed and irritable, Judith lay and listened—as far as she could judge the rest of the street was fast asleep, waiting for their Sunday papers and breakfast in bed. Even her grandmother slept late on a Sunday. Although Judith hadn't slept at all she felt full of frustrated, furious energy. She had to work it off on something, so she had a shower, got dressed and went off to finish decorating her new flat very early, leaving Mrs Murry eating breakfast.
'Will you be back for lunch? I'm only having sated, but I could cook you something,' Mrs Murry said, and Judith shook her head.
'I'll probably work all day; I want to get the flat finished today if I can.'
Her grandmother looked at her with sudden compunction. 'I hope you don't feel I'm pushing you out, Judith. I'm very grateful to you for staying since ... it isn't that I don't want to see you, it's just that I'm not used to sharing my house with another woman. I suppose I'm too old to change my ways; it's a bit much to have to get used to having a strange toothbrush in the bathroom.'
Judith laughed. 'I know what you mean—I often wonder if that accounts for the high divorce rate; people just can't get used to strange toothbrushes in the bathroom.'
Mrs Murry chuckled. 'I know it sounds silly, but…'
'I know, it's the little things that cause the trouble; I like pop music and you don't, you like soap operas on the TV and I don't. You don't have to explain to me, Grandma. I do understand. I'm used to living on my own now, too, you know.'
Mrs Murry frowned. 'I'm not sure I like the sound of that. It's different at your age, you ought to get married.'
'I'm off,' said Judith, her eyes wry, and left the kitchen with a little wave. She drove to her flat through practically deserted streets; the air w
as so soft that she had the windows wound right down and felt her hair blowing in the wind and the warmth of the sunshine on her cheek, physical sensations which helped to cool her prickling irritation a little. She still hadn't decided whether or not to appear at Luke Doulton's office next morning; it would be a bit of an anti-climax to walk in as cool as a cucumber after the row they had had, but there was still that contract, very much signed and legal, and bristling with sub-clauses over which the various lawyers had spent a lot of midnight oil.
She set to work as soon as she was in the flat; it only: took her a couple of hours to finish the painting, and when she had washed her hands and face afterwards she made herself a cup of coffee and perched on a packing case to drink it while she contemplated what she had I done and felt a surge of satisfaction. A few moments later she stiffened in mingled alarm and shock when the doorbell rang violently. She wasn't, somehow, surprised when she opened the door and was confronted by Luke Doulton.
'What do you want?' asked Judith, blocking the doorway. She was faintly surprised by what he was wearing; a soft tan leather jacket over a cream polo-necked sweater and casual dark brown cords. Stupidly, she expected him to be wearing formal city clothes every time she saw him but the guy must have some time off from work, and the clothes he was wearing, although casual, were quite obviously expensive. The leather jacket was so smooth it invited you to touch it. Judith, however, refrained, in spite of an instinctive wish to do so; she felt he might misinterpret it if she obeyed her instincts.
'Don't be tiresome, Miss Murry; we have to talk.' He stepped forward, she moved to stop him entering the flat, and they eyed each other warily, impatiently, like duellists about to start fighting.
'How did you know I was here?' she asked.
'I rang your home and your grandmother told me. She seemed to think I was someone called Robert, I'm not sure why.' He knew very well why, his eyes held mockery.
'And you didn't disillusion her,' Judith commented coldly.
'I hate to disillusion anyone,' he said, and she picked up the double meaning and stared back at him in contempt.
'So I've noticed,' she said, and his eyes flashed.
'Look, I'm not discussing my private life on your doorstep.' He picked her up by the waist and carried her into the flat, kicking the door shut with his foot before he put her down.
Very flushed, Judith spat out: 'Get your hands off me!' They were gripping her waist in a vice and she tried to unlock them, slapping his hands down. 'Will you let go?' she yelled as the hands merely tightened.
'Don't lose your temper with me,' Luke muttered, his fingers shifting. She felt them brush the underside of her breasts and took a fierce, startled breath. He looked down at her at the sound and for a few seconds they stood there, staring at each other, only inches apart, then Judith wrenched herself free and walked away into the sitting-room. It was a moment before Luke followed her, and by then she was standing at the window, staring out blindly, wondering why her heart was battering against her ribs. Their little fight must have made her breathless, she decided.
Quietly, Luke said: 'Look, last night happened just the way I said it did—I was far from pleased to see Caroline again, but in front of a crowd of people I had to be polite to her.'
'I saw how polite you were!'
'I wasn't able to get out of dancing with her; she'd danced with all the other men. And when she put her arms round my neck what on earth was I supposed to do? Remove them? Make a scene in public? It didn't seem important at the time. It still doesn't—not to me. The only person making a big thing of it is you.'
'Why are you so worried about Baba being told if you don't think it's important?' she asked, swinging to face him. 'You know Baba would be hurt if she knew you were with Caroline last night. I know, too. You seem to forget, I've known Baba for most of my life, her sister is my oldest friend. They both matter to me. You don't, and as for the job—well, no doubt I'll get another, it may not be as good, but at least my next employer won't try to blackmail me . . .'
'Blackmail you?' he broke in, his voice rising. 'Now what are you accusing me of?'
'What else do you call it? You came here this morning to point out to me that if I told Baba what I'd seen I'd lose my job—that's blackmail, in my book.'
'I came here to reason with you,' he denied. 'I agree with you that the fact that you're just going to start working for me is irrelevant, but I still don't like your tone or the accusations you fling around with that expression on your face and that isn't irrelevant. I can't have you talking to me like that in front of people at the office; I'd lose any authority I have. They'd put two and two together and decide you're my latest mistress.'
Judith's mouth opened and stayed open, but nothing came out. He looked at her with grim satisfaction.
'What else do you imagine they'd think? If I let a woman talk to me the way you have been doing there wouldn't be any other explanation—they'd decide in two seconds flat that I was so crazy about you that you could walk all over me.'
Judith still couldn't speak; she was too taken aback, and Luke Doulton watched her flushed face before suddenly laughing.
'Well, at least that shut you up for the moment—I'm glad something can. It could be handy to know that in the future.'
Judith swallowed. 'I thought there wasn't going to be any future for me in your firm.'
That’s something we have to discuss,' he said, and ran his amused eyes over her jeans and old shirt. 'You aren't it to be seen anywhere respectable,' he told her.
'Never mind, there's someone I want you to meet. Have you got a jacket? If so, grab it and come along.'
Judith stood her ground. 'I don't want to meet Caroline Rendell, thank you.'
Especially looking the way she knew she did at that moment; she could imagine the expression in the other woman's eyes as she stared at Judith's old jeans and the paint-stained shirt. Caroline was aware of her own elegance and chic.
'Did I say it was Caroline? It isn't; it's the most important woman in my life, and I want her to take a look at you and decide whether I should take the risk of leaving you in charge of my most confidential business.'
Judith thought, her brow furrowed. 'Your mother?'
'Very clever, Miss Murry. My mother, the most intelligent woman I know; she could run rings round most of the men who work for me—and has, in the past. My father didn't make a move without consulting her.'
'She wasn't at the engagement party,' Judith thought aloud. 'Didn't she approve of your engagement?'
'Very much so, and she liked Baba. I took Baba down to meet her—don't tell me you didn't know that? I thought Baba told you everything.' His eyes mocked and Judith smiled wryly.
'Then why didn't she come to the party? Doesn't she live in London?'
'She's very frail, she can't travel far, it tires her too much. She lives in Kent, it won't take us more than three quarters of an hour to get there and we can have lunch at the house.'
Judith looked down at herself. 'I can't meet your mother looking like this, I'll have to go home and change first.'
Luke looked at his watch. 'How long would that take you? It's eleven now. Can you change quickly?'
'Give me ten minutes,' said Judith, and he grimaced.
'I don't believe in miracles; no woman can be read in ten minutes.'
'Try me.'
He contemplated her with his head on one side, his face amused. 'I've never met a woman like you,' he said. 'I believe you will do it in ten minutes, if only to prove me wrong. Well, come on—don't just stand there!'
It wasn't until they were almost at her grandmother's house that Judith realised she had left her own car parked outside the flats. It was locked and would be safe enough there, but it showed her with disturbing clarity how Luke Doulton could get his own way, because she hadn't stopped to think about her car, she had let him hustle her out of her flat and into his fast red sports car without the faintest hint of an argument. He had taken her by surprise with his de
mand that she should come and meet his mother. She couldn't deny that she wanted to meet Mrs Doulton; she was curious about her. What Luke had said about his mother hadn't been, entirely new to her; she had heard something of Mrs Doulton when she was in New York, she knew that Mrs Doulton was English and had married her husband when he was working for a year in London and that after his death she had returned to live in England for most of the year, only visiting her children at odd intervals. The Doulton legend had involved her; she was supposed to have been the power behind the throne, people said that her husband had always consulted her about his deals, but she had kept out of the limelight and acted in private. Only those who visited the Doulton home on Rhode Island ever met her, and of those people only a few ever got invitations to her other house, the one in very isolated, wooded country in Vermont, with a view of lakes and fields below it, but anyone who did visit the family boasted about it to their friends and acquaintance. Judith had heard her name mentioned with awe; yet nobody had seemed to know much about Mrs Doulton, which only increased her legendary status.
Luke parked outside the house and looked at his watch again. 'Right—you've got ten minutes,' he said. . 'Any chance of a cup of coffee while I wait?'
'Of course, come in.' Judith let herself into the house with him on her heels and Mrs Murry came out of the kitchen with a cucumber in her hand and a surprised expression on her face.
'Oh, hello, he found you, then,' she said, and smiled past Judith at the man with her. 'I'm very pleased to meet you at last, Robert, are you going to have lunch with us? I'm afraid it's only salad, but I'm sure I can find a tin of something to go with it. I've been telling Judith to bring you to lunch for ages, I only wish I'd had more warning, but so long as you don't mind pot luck…'
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