‘Well, sit down then. There’s not much on offer, I’m afraid. I’m not into American food just yet. The idea of pancakes with everything hasn’t quite taken off.’
He handed over the brandy and sat down at the table.
They ate in silence then Ryder said, ‘Once I get this backlog of work cleared up I’ll be moving around most of the time. Helen will soon get sick of the here-today-gone-tomorrow lifestyle I lead. Most women do.’
He spoke naturally and Jenny, eyeing him from beneath her lashes, wondered if that was the reason why he had never asked her for a divorce.
‘I heard that you were going off to the Amazon in the autumn. Will you be away long?’ she asked.
‘It’s difficult to say. There are always unexpected problems that can hold you up or even call the whole thing off if necessary. But we’ve planned for a six-week trip. I’ll send photographs back to Helen when I can,’ he said looking up and catching her watching him.
‘Isn’t it very dangerous?’
‘There is a certain amount of danger but not as much as people think. The team all consists of professionals. We know and trust each other, that’s the main thing. You can’t go in there having to watch your back constantly in case some fool trips up.’
No, Jenny thought, and I’d hate to be the fool who did. They finished their meal and Ryder poured two glasses of brandy while Jenny stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. When she joined him again he was sitting in an armchair warming the brandy between his hands.
‘Yours is on the dresser.’
She picked it up as she passed and moved to sit in the chair opposite. They made small talk between sips of the warm brandy. Then Ryder put down his glass and stood up. Coming over to her chair he reached down and pulled her to her feet. Jenny stiffened, remembering that last unexpected kiss. But this time it was a mere peck on the cheek as he took his leave.
Helen christened their new car the Dude—one of several new words she had picked up since coming to live in the States. A great exam result had come through that morning from England and Jenny was itching to share her happiness with someone, but Ryder was in California and there was no-one else she felt close enough to for them to be interested.
They drove to the local store later that morning. Helen had great fun playing with the advertising toys scattered throughout the store, nibbling the various tasters offered and exclaiming at Jenny’s inability to find any amounts small enough for two persons.
‘We can’t eat all that ourselves, Mummy.’
‘We’ll freeze it,’ was Jenny’s answer to everything.
When they were loaded up and ready to climb back into the car a voice hailed them from the exit of the store. It was Margaret. She turned to speak to the woman with her then ran over to where they stood. Jenny waited, wishing that she had just been that little bit quicker in leaving.
‘My goodness,’ Margaret cried when she saw the car, ‘is that the best Ryder could do for you? You mustn’t let him palm you off with used vehicles. You never know what will go wrong with them.’
‘Ryder didn’t palm me off with anything. It’s my car.’
‘Well, I know but, anyway, thing is, I’m looking for helpers for Saturday evening, for a charity dinner and auction. I need six attractive women to lead the volunteer men to be auctioned on to the stage. I have four at the moment and am desperate for another two. Do say you’ll help.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t possibly leave Helen on her own.’
‘Good heavens, of course, you can’t. Haven’t you got hold of a good baby-sitting agency yet? Here take mine.’
She searched around in her purse and brought out a gold edged card with the name and telephone number of a local baby-sitting agency inscribed upon it.
‘They’re very good. Ask for Rita, she’s real capable. Now, you won’t let me down, will you? Ryder has already put up money.’
She gave a sly smile.
‘Well, I suppose he couldn’t volunteer himself, not when he was going to be in California,’ she added.
Helen was trying to attract Jenny’s attention from inside the car. ‘I’m afraid I must be off,’ Jenny said hurriedly.
‘OK, don’t forget now, seven-thirty sharp, Saturday, and wear your prettiest dress,’ Margaret said as she walked away.
Jenny was grinding her teeth as she climbed in behind the steering-wheel, turned the key in the ignition and drove off.
‘Mummy’s going to leave me with a babysitter tomorrow night,’ Helen told Ryder on the phone the following evening.
He always called her before bedtime when he was away, if at all possible. ‘Helen!’
Jenny checked her daughter. She didn’t want Ryder thinking it was a regular occurrence. She took over the receiver and spoke to him herself.
‘Margaret has asked me to help at some charity function tomorrow night. I’m not happy about leaving Helen but I suppose I was steam-rollered into it, really.’
She heard his chuckle on the other end of the line and for an instant she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift with the pain of remembrance.
‘I wondered how long it would be before she raked you into one of her functions. Doesn’t take no for an answer, does she? If you use the agency they use, Helen should be perfectly all right.’
‘I suppose so but I shall make it perfectly clear to her that I won’t be pulled into this sort of thing again. I don’t mind donating to charity when I can afford it but I hate making a spectacle of myself.’
‘It’s all in a good cause, Jenny. Nobody takes it seriously.’
The humour was still in his voice when she retaliated rather sharply. ‘I dare say but it didn’t stop you buying your way out, did it?’
Then she handed the phone back to Helen, a little ashamed of her outburst.
Rita, the baby-sitter, arrived the next night with a form that Jenny had to sign. She was a nice girl, in her late teens, and Helen, who had stayed up to meet her, liked her on the spot. When Jenny left to drive to the Mitchells’, the two of them were getting on great.
Jenny’s heart was racing as she turned over in her mind what Margaret had said about what she wanted her to do—guide the volunteers on to the stage, wasn’t that it? Well, that didn’t sound too difficult. She didn’t have a good dress but was wearing a long black skirt and glittery top of grey silver and various shades of red that she had kept for the odd occasion at college.
She’d sprayed the heels of her smart black court shoes once again and filled the small silver purse with her essentials. Her freshly-shampooed hair had shone under the bedroom lights as she applied the bare minimum of make-up.
The house was lit like a Christmas tree and Jenny had a hard job to find a parking place. At last she managed to squeeze in between two cars and left the Dude sitting there like the poor relation! With so many people there already she must be late but she distinctly remembered Margaret saying seven-thirty.
The meal was over and the staff clearing the tables when a maid took her coat and showed her into a small side room where five other girls were gathered. She was obviously no competition to them. The smallest of the girls came over to her and introduced herself.
‘I’m Barbara Kleets. I haven’t seen you around before.’
‘Jennifer Carson. We only arrived here a few weeks ago.’
‘Oh, my goodness, you’re English.’
She turned back to the others.
‘You haven’t a chance tonight, girls, she’s English.’
The remaining four girls surrounded Jenny and tossed one question after another at her about where she came from, why she’d come to the States, how long she’d known Margaret. Before she could answer there was a knock on the door and a man was standing in the opening, beckoning one of the girls.
‘Oops, my turn. See you later, Jennifer.’
‘Don’t we all go in together?’ Jenny asked.
A chorus of laughter greeted her.
‘Gosh, no, she can only auction us on
e at a time.’
‘Auction us? I don’t understand. Margaret said we were to lead the male volunteers on to the stage.’
Another burst of laughter followed this query and Jenny began to feel decidedly uncomfortable. If that dreadful woman had tricked her into coming here to take part in some caper then she was going to get more than she bargained for.
Barbara explained.
‘Margaret auctions us on stage and the highest bidder has us for an evening out, that’s all. It’s good fun, especially if you get a real good looker. I got Jason Bellvidere last time. He’s only eighty-nine!’
Jenny was horrified. Just wait until I get that woman on her own, she seethed. Jenny was kept waiting until last which added to the agony. When she walked out on to the stage she was anything but engaging. Her face was a mask of outrage though she cast a weak smile at the audience. Margaret blithely ignored Jenny’s obvious hostility and started the bidding. It was rapid, much to Jenny’s surprise, but eventually they all fell by the wayside as one man at the back of the room continued to outbid everyone else.
He was a tall man with sleek brown hair and film-star looks whom Margaret called Kane. The audience had fallen into a disquieting silence. Margaret bantered with them trying to encourage someone to stand up against Kane.
Suddenly there was movement at the back of the room and Kane was turning to acknowledge a newcomer from across the room, but Margaret brought down the hammer on Kane’s offer and Jenny was handed over to him for an evening’s entertainment.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ryder’s features were carved from granite as he listened to Kane arranging to pick up Jenny the following evening. ‘I thought you were in California?’ Jenny asked.
She had never felt so relieved in her life as when she had spotted Ryder standing by the door at the back of the hall. Now, as her eyes searched his face, she wasn’t so sure.
‘You sounded nervous on the phone so I thought I would come back early to give you my support, though by the look of it you managed perfectly well without it.’
Jenny could have kicked his shins.
‘I was terrified. Margaret tricked me, you know.’
One eyebrow raised in mocking disbelief as he said, ‘Well, I dare say you won’t be so terrified tomorrow night when I can’t play chaperone.’
With her heart beating angrily Jenny contemplated a night out with the man she had met for the first that evening and of whom she knew nothing at all. They left the house and made their way to their separate cars. Ryder moved off first and she followed him home.
When the sitter had left and Ryder had gone upstairs, Jenny looked in on Helen. The little girl was fast asleep, her favourite teddy tucked in alongside her. Back in the living-room, Jenny’s thoughts turned to the shabby little flat back in Patty’s house, and the days before Ryder’s return into her life.
Where was Tim, she wondered. Was he still in Spain? She should have gone with him, she knew that now. Helen would have eventually recovered from her obsession with Ryder. Was she being strictly honest with herself, she wondered. Was Helen’s obsession the only reason they were in America? Had she turned Tim down because there was the slightest chance that Ryder may have sometime in the future chosen to accept that Helen was his?
Had those days that she thought of as peaceful days before Ryder’s reappearance really been so blissful or were they just empty, standing-still days, waiting for the time when Ryder would come back to claim her and their daughter.
The humidity was high that night. She was sticky and uncomfortable. Sleep was hard to come by. A shower beckoned. It was the tinkling of the wind chimes on the deck while she towelled herself dry that brought home the realisation that the patio doors were open. She pulled on the over-sized T-shirt she slept in and wandered through to shut the doors, frowning as she tried to remember when she had opened them.
As she turned back into the room she saw that both bedroom doors were wide open. She was already running as she slammed back Helen’s door and searched with rising panic for her daughter. Back at the patio doors, she struggled with the locks, all fingers and thumbs now. Pushing them aside she ran out on to the deck.
The gate at the top of the steps was swinging open. Jenny called Helen’s name as she hurried down them. A shadow slid across the lawn and disappeared into the edge of the woods. She called again, her heart pounding with fear, as she galloped across the gardens of the next block of apartments.
She found the path down to the swimming pool. Now the pool was in sight and Jenny called again in a voice as quiet and natural as she could make it. There was a splash and a squeal and Jenny saw three small heads seemingly floating on the surface of the water.
It was dusk and a wisp of grey mist lay along the edge of the forest surrounding the pool. Jenny’s heart stilled, stopping the breath in her throat. Then she was running towards the water, tossing off her sandals as she went. Who was it in the water? Could she get them all out in time? Where was Helen? She closed her eyes and jumped.
Jenny’s knees buckled beneath her as they absorbed the impact when her feet hit the bottom of the pool two feet beneath the water. She thrust out her arms to steady herself and gazed across the surface of the water from a kneeling position.
It was the ten-year-old twins from the next-door apartment and their eight-year-old sister who were swimming farther along the pool and now clung on to the edge, staring in astonishment at the strange spectacle of the English lady kneeling in the shallow end of the pool with a baggy T-shirt hanging beneath her.
Helen was curled up fast asleep in a lounger.
‘We’re looking out for her,’ one of the twins shouted.
‘Thank you,’ Jenny called as she rung out her T-shirt and climbed out of the pool before picking up the grumbling Helen and carrying her home.
‘I don’t know how she got there,’ Jenny was explaining to Ryder next morning as a sulky Helen had caught him on the way out and asked to go with him. ‘She’s never done anything like this before and now she knows she is never to sneak out again without telling me.’
Ryder glanced down at Helen then back at Jenny.
‘I’m on my way to visit some very special children today. It’s a school for disabled children and they are running out of funds. We’re going to do a documentary on facilities for disabled children and their funding when I return from the Amazon. This is just a run-up visit to meet the people involved. I think Helen might enjoy the experience and it will give you plenty of time to prepare for your date tonight.’
Jenny pursed her lips at his suggestive tone, but it would be a relief to have a day without Helen.
‘By the way, do you have a sitter for tonight?’ he added.
Jenny’s hand flew to her mouth.
‘No, I forgot, probably because I was hoping something would happen to make it impossible for me to go.’
‘Oh, heaven forbid that should happen. I’ll baby-sit. She can sleep upstairs tonight. How about trying out your other bed?’ he said to Helen who was dancing around with glee.
‘Can I, Mummy? Can I really? You promised. You said I could sleep in any bed I wanted.’
They left together, Helen prattling away non-stop. Jenny smiled. It was wonderful having the whole day to herself. Much as she loved her daughter, it could be tiring coping with the never-ending questions and demands for attention. She basked in idleness. She washed and curled her hair a new way, read a book while lying in a perfumed bath, gave herself a manicure and pedicure and painted her nails. It was all great fun though, she felt, not quite her style.
By the time Ryder and Helen came home she had prepared a light meal for three, after which Helen proclaimed that she would go upstairs with Daddy.
Left alone once more Jenny tidied up then moved into the bedroom to add the last touches to her make-up and slip into the black skirt, with a different top this time. By eight o’clock she was as ready as she would ever be, perched on the arm of the chair. She had never been on a blind
date before and wasn’t looking forward to the experience. With two minutes to go, there was a sharp rap on the door. Jenny fixed a smile on her face and walking forward, opened it. Ryder stood there. His expression was forbidding. With a sigh she dropped her arm and allowed him to enter.
‘For heaven’s sake, what have you done to yourself? You look like a tart.’
‘How dare you talk to me like that!’ Jenny snapped.
‘Because you don’t know what you are doing encouraging a man like Kane Gleason.’
‘I am not encouraging him!’
‘Looking like that you would give any man the come-on.’
Jenny glared back at him, a retort trembling on her lips as the doorbell went a second time. She pushed past Ryder to answer it. This time it was her date for the evening, looking very smart in evening wear with a gift box in his hand. He smiled broadly as he eyed Ryder.
‘I didn’t know you already had company,’ he said, tongue in cheek, ‘or I would have ordered a table for three.’
Ryder froze him out with an icy stare then with one last scathing look at Jenny he was gone.
‘Surly, isn’t he? But we won’t let him spoil tonight, will we?’
The open grin was there again as he handed her a beautifully-wrapped box of chocolates then offered his arm. It set the tone for the night and Jenny relaxed in the experienced aura of Kane’s charm.
They dined in the front room of a pretty clapboard house. A notice and arrow announced museum and antiques towards the back of the house. Kane informed her that it was very difficult to obtain a table in the restaurant, for the food was first rate, the service good and with only fifty the tables were in constant demand.
Their table was set in the paned bay window that looked out across a small veranda hung with masses of flower baskets and tubs on to the street. Jenny gazed with interest at all the samplers on the walls and the rag mats beneath their feet.
One large wall was covered in a beautiful quilt of creams and blues, its design picked out in the many patterned squares.
Kane was delightful company if a bit predictable in his gentle flirting. When, after a wonderful meal, he suggested a drive to a local beauty spot, Jenny turned him down making Helen her excuse. She could tell he wasn’t very pleased but reluctantly he agreed to take her home. When he parked the car outside her apartment the smile was back on his face and he shrugged his shoulders.
The Waiting Time Page 6