by Susan Lewis
‘Of course, we understand,’ Robin said, stepping in smoothly, though like Stacey and Caroline he too was slightly shaken by her candour. ‘And you’re right to be concerned, because conclusions will almost certainly be drawn, even though I, personally, can see no connection to current events at all.’ He looked pointedly at Stacey. ‘The only publicity will be for the book itself,’ he said, ‘not the author. Though I think you’ll have to accept, Ava, that the secret’s bound to come out sooner or later.’
‘Then let’s do everything we can to make sure it’s later,’ she responded, her eyes directed straight at Stacey.
‘Oh, you have my word,’ Stacey responded. ‘We’ll be a very small group who knows the truth. Just three or four of us. You’ll meet the others when you come in on Friday.’
Ava sipped her champagne.
‘Have you set up an editorial meeting yet?’ Robin enquired.
‘Yes, we must do that,’ Stacey replied. ‘As it’s such an unusual love story we’re rather hoping to publish in February in time for St Valentine’s Day. I think it should be possible. There’s really not much editing to be done – perhaps a few cuts here and there, but we can discuss that when we meet.’
Ava was regarding her with interest. ‘Cuts?’ she repeated.
‘Just a few,’ Stacey chortled. ‘It’s normal. And maybe a few points could do with a little clarification.’
Ava tore her eyes away and fixed them on Robin. ‘So how long will I have to wait for the first cheque?’ she enquired.
Grinning, he looked at Stacey. ‘Oh, about a week,’ he said, a roguish light in his eyes.
Stacey chortled again. ‘Make that four,’ she corrected.
Ava’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rose, but she merely turned to greet several more agents who were piling in from along the corridor, come to join the celebration. Robin opened more champagne and Ava received her critiques and adulation with modest gratitude and enchanted smiles. Though right there in the moment, she was watching herself too, marvelling at the poise and elegance that seemed to come so naturally to Ava. Of course, they all imagined this was exactly how Beth Ashby dressed and behaved, but Beth had no such confidence, or style. If she had, maybe she’d have done a better job of satisfying her husband, who’d no doubt be as enthralled by Ava as he was by any woman who emanated such sublime sensuality. Where had all this been during the years of their marriage, she wondered. Why had she been so afraid of it then, when it might have saved her from so much pain? She had no answers right now, only a profound fascination with the miracles a little suntan, a French manicure, an expensive dress and newfound success were performing on a battered and bewildered psyche. How desperately Beth needed this, how fortunate she was to be able to reach inside herself and find it.
She left the agency at three when the taxi Robin had arranged came to collect her and take her to Paddington Station. The train ride to Swindon lasted no more than an hour, where another taxi was waiting to drive her back to Georgie’s.
‘So how did it go?’ Georgie cried, bursting out of the front door in a bright red swimsuit, matching shorts and little Blake in her arms. ‘God, you look fantastic in that dress. Who’d have thought one little trip into Bath could result in such a transformation? I feel like a fairy godmother. So, do I call you Beth or Ava?’
Beth was laughing. ‘I think Beth,’ she answered, scooping Blake into a hug and planting a big kiss on his cheek. ‘How are you, you gorgeous thing?’ she teased. ‘Looks like you’ve been playing in your pool.’
Delighting in the attention, Blake bounced up and down and blew a few bubbles.
‘You’ve got a visitor,’ Georgie said, keeping her voice low.
Immediately Beth’s heart turned over. ‘Who?’ she asked.
Georgie nodded towards the sleek black Mercedes that was parked under the trees at the end of the drive. ‘You didn’t see it on the way in?’ she said.
‘Whose is it?’ Beth asked, shielding her eyes from the dazzling sunlight. ‘Why is it parked down there?’
‘To keep the chauffeur cool in the shade.’
Beth’s heart was hammering as her eyes came back to Georgie’s. ‘Leonora,’ she murmured.
‘She’s in the drawing room,’ Georgie confirmed. ‘She arrived about twenty minutes ago and decided to wait.’
‘What does she want?’
‘She didn’t say. My mother’s in there, keeping her entertained and probably in need of rescue.’
‘Just give me a minute to change,’ Beth said.
‘Why? You look –’
‘It just doesn’t feel right, seeing her in something like this,’ Beth cut in. ‘I’ll be two minutes.’ And, dumping Blake back in his mother’s arms, she ran quickly up the stairs to her room.
In less than two minutes she was fully transformed back to Beth just by putting on a thin rust cotton dress that flowed loosely round her slender body, and sturdy leather sandals. She looked in the mirror and was dismayed to see how far her earlier glow had faded with the nervous tension that was building inside her. Now she looked pinched and anxious, a woman of little self-esteem, who was no doubt about to be belittled and beleaguered by the supreme sophistication and Machiavellian intellect of the woman waiting downstairs. How she detested herself for being so unnerved by Leonora Gatling, yet she wasn’t alone, for anyone who’d met the woman knew that only a fool underestimated that veneer of exquisite charm. Even Colin, who Beth was certain had slept with her, treated her with extreme caution and repeatedly advised that she, Beth, should do the same. Inwardly she shuddered. What she wouldn’t give to avoid this encounter. She simply wasn’t equipped to deal with Leonora’s convoluted mind games, even though she might be able to use them to persuade Colin to let her visit again, for he’d surely want a blow-by-blow account of every word, every nuance and gesture.
Beatrice, Georgie’s mother, had taken Blake up to his playroom by the time Beth opened the door to the drawing room. Almost instantly the overpowering scent of Joy confirmed that Leonora really was there. Georgie rose from one of the sofas, put a dainty cup and saucer back on a silver tray, then reached out to take her guest’s.
‘Leonora, what a pleasant surprise,’ Beth declared warmly, surprising and pleasing herself with how relaxed she had managed to sound.
Leonora ascended from her chair, rising to a full six feet, which made her taller than Beth, though not quite as slender, nor as young. However, even at fifty Leonora was still the most striking-looking woman Beth had ever met. As usual her glossy, ebony hair was rolled in an immaculate pleat, her exotic, finely honed features were perfectly made up, and her light summer suit hadn’t acquired a single crease. ‘Beth, my dear. How are you?’ she said in her low, velvety tones. ‘I do hope you don’t mind me crashing in like this. I’ve been so concerned. I simply had to come and see you for myself.’
Beth didn’t remark on how many weeks it had taken, she merely kissed the air either side of Leonora’s cheeks, as Leonora did the same to hers.
‘You’re looking a little thin,’ Leonora remarked with a charming smile, ‘but that’s never a bad thing. Has it been terrible? Yes, of course it has.’
Clearing her throat, Georgie said, ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to talk.’
‘I was rather thinking a walk in the garden would be nice,’ Leonora suggested. ‘It looks so beautiful out there, and I’m sure that lovely high wall with those glorious roses climbing all over it will make us perfectly private.’
As Beth showed Leonora out through the French windows she glanced quickly back at Georgie, then stepped out on to the patio, with its exploding tubs of geraniums and fuchsias, which were nestled in amongst the deeply cushioned green wicker furniture and an assortment of Blake’s cars, trucks and Lego bricks.
For the next five minutes, as they strolled along the gravel path that dissected the lawn, then ducked beneath a passiflora-covered pergola and wandered in through the beds and banks of chrysanths, begonias, dahlias and la
burnum trees Beth found herself being schooled in all matters horticultural and arboreal.
‘I had no idea you knew so much about gardening,’ she remarked after a while.
‘I don’t really,’ Leonora confessed. ‘Just a few little tips I’ve picked up here and there. They come in useful when one is touring gardens, as one frequently does.’
Beth smiled and thought of how satisfying it would be to rub dirt in ‘one’s’ smug little face.
‘You know,’ Leonora said, placing a hand on her arm, ‘I really am sorry for what you’re going through. It must be perfectly ghastly.’
‘I think it’s probably worse for Colin,’ Beth responded.
‘Of course.’ Leonora’s grip tightened a fraction, then she turned to stroll on, stopping finally to admire a walled enclave of vivid blue delphiniums. ‘Giant Pacific Hybrids,’ she murmured, touching her elegant fingers to the petals. ‘Quite lovely.’ She glanced at Beth. ‘The PM sends his regards. He’s very distressed about what’s happened.’
Beth had no problem believing that, though didn’t doubt for a moment that the concern was much more for himself than for his old and loyal friend Colin Ashby.
‘He wants you to know that if there was anything he could do …’
The unfinished sentence hung in the air, its regret as empty as its effect.
‘Of course he’s counting on you to remain discreet,’ Leonora said.
‘Discreet about what?’ Beth enquired.
Leonora turned to face her. ‘Just discreet,’ she responded. Then holding her eyes, ‘I do hope I can be frank with you, my dear,’ she said, continuing to perk and prissy the flowers.
‘I’m sure you will be,’ Beth replied sweetly.
Leonora’s smile was as unshakeable as the sunlight streaming down in thick, misty bands through the trees. ‘Please understand,’ she said, starting to move on, ‘I’m not only here because of Colin’s long friendship with my husband and the Prime Minister, I’m here out of concern for you, my dear.’
Beth didn’t bother to answer.
‘It’s important for you to realize that you have friends who care,’ Leonora said. ‘Of course, publicly we must be seen to keep a distance, but privately I want you to know that we’re here for you.’
Beth’s smile was suitably grateful, while inside she was already tying herself up in knots trying to work out where this was going.
‘It’s just too awful,’ Leonora murmured, ‘this situation that poor Colin finds himself in. Too awful. We’ve been so worried about him. I do hope he understands that. We’re all so very fond of him. You too, of course. We’ve known each other a long time and friends really must stick together, don’t you think?’
Beth wished she had the courage to ask just what Leonora’s definition of sticking together was, but since the last place she wanted to be was on the wrong side of this woman, she took the safer option and refrained from comment.
‘Yes, of course you do,’ Leonora answered for her. ‘And I’m sure you understand how very difficult it is for us to do anything to help Colin at this time, though of course we want to. We’ve discussed it over and over, but it’s just too, shall we say, delicate a situation for any of us to become embroiled in. You do understand that, don’t you?’
Beth nodded obediently.
Apparently satisfied, Leonora paused to coif a particularly vibrant rhododendron bush. ‘Forgive me for asking,’ she said, ‘but do you have any idea why he killed the girl?’
Though startled by the abruptness of the question, Beth’s cheeks immediately flushed with anger. ‘You’re assuming he did,’ she retorted. ‘He says he didn’t.’
Leonora nodded. ‘Of course, I’m sorry,’ she responded. ‘I suppose I was just going with the evidence, but I’m sure there’s much more we don’t know about yet, isn’t there?’ Her smile was benign as she stood back to admire her little bit of handiwork. ‘Isn’t there?’ she repeated, when Beth didn’t respond.
‘Not that I’m aware of,’ Beth replied. ‘But in your position, it’s possible that you know more than I do.’
Leonora’s laugh was like delicately sprinkling glass. ‘But you’re his wife, my dear. I’m sure you’d be kept more informed than any of us.’
As they both knew how absurdly false that statement was, Beth merely said, ‘Then I’m sure we have the same information.’
Leonora’s lips maintained their upward curves at the corners as, blinking once or twice, she led them on towards the greenhouse and vegetable garden. ‘As we both know what it is to be the wives of men in sensitive positions,’ she said, ‘I’m sure you won’t mind me asking if we need to be concerned about some kind of scandal erupting from this that we’re not prepared for?’
Beth was so surprised by the question that she almost laughed. ‘You mean besides Colin being caught in the act of murder?’ she asked.
Leonora’s smile became thin.
Though pleased to have rattled her, Beth knew it wasn’t going to help either her or Colin, so she said, ‘I’ve heard that there’s some kind of prostitution ring. Did you know about that?’
Leonora’s head went back as she gazed up at the blazing blue sky through a tapestry of leaves. ‘Such silly risks men take,’ she commented.
‘Surely not Marcus,’ Beth protested.
Leonora’s amusement seemed genuine as she laughed for several seconds. ‘Was the girl blackmailing Colin?’ she asked suddenly.
‘You’d need to ask Colin that,’ Beth answered. Then she added, ‘Would she have something to blackmail him about, do you think?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out,’ Leonora replied. ‘As you know, Colin had access to many government secrets. We want to be sure that none has been passed on, or is being used against him.’
‘If they were, the girl’s dead,’ Beth reminded her.
Leonora was quiet for a moment, then said, ‘Yes. Of course.’
Beth followed her into the greenhouse where she began inspecting Georgie’s prized orchids. It was almost unbearably humid inside all that glass.
‘So Colin hasn’t discussed any blackmail attempts with you?’ Leonora asked.
‘Only to say there weren’t any,’ Beth answered.
‘Has he confided anything in you that you feel we should know about?’
‘No. I don’t think so. Maybe if you gave me some idea …’
Leonora turned her exquisite smile on Beth. ‘I won’t allow myself to disbelieve you,’ she said, ‘so I do hope, for all our sakes, that you’re telling me the truth.’
Beth feigned surprise. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ she responded.
Leonora’s expression remained pleasant as her eyes carried out one of the deepest probes Beth had ever undergone. She stared back, not faltering for a moment.
Finally Leonora looked at her watch. ‘Well, I’ve probably taken up too much of your time already,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to be sure that you’re coping, and to let you know that if there’s anything you need, or feel you would like to discuss, my door is always open.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Beth responded. ‘I’ll remember that.’
As they ambled back through the garden it occurred to Beth that she’d very likely been modelling Ava on this woman without realizing it. Now she did it made her feel oddly pleased and powerful, for it was as though, by usurping Leonora’s character, she had some kind of control over her.
‘I hear,’ Leonora said chattily, as they arrived back at the house, ‘that Colin has an excellent barrister. I know Giles Parker, of course, though not well.’
Was that a deliberate reminder that she’d once been an extremely successful lawyer herself, Beth wondered.
‘Incidentally, how often are you managing to see Colin?’ Leonora asked, stepping over one of Blake’s toys as they walked up on to the patio.
‘Actually, not often,’ Beth answered feeling suddenly depressed and vulnerable, for the painful reality of Colin’s refusal to see her again far outw
eighed the relief of getting through this past half an hour unscathed.
Leonora looked sympathetic. ‘It must be hard,’ she said, touching Beth’s hand, ‘especially when Heather’s going so often.’
Beth’s blood turned to ice. ‘Heather?’ she echoed, feeling the sky starting to tilt.
‘Oh dear,’ Leonora gasped, putting her fingers to her mouth. ‘I thought … I assumed …’
Beth’s eyes were wide with panic. ‘Who’s Heather?’ she blurted.
‘Oh, no one, I’m sure,’ Leonora responded. ‘I just heard … I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ve probably got it wrong anyway.’
Leonora never got anything wrong, but whatever it was, Beth didn’t want to hear it from her. ‘Actually,’ she stumbled, though trying hard to rally, ‘I know who you mean. Heather is … Well, she’s Heather.’
‘Of course,’ Leonora smiled. ‘She’s just Heather.’
At the French windows Leonora stopped and turned round so swiftly that Beth almost crashed into her. Steadying her, by placing her hands on Beth’s arms, she said, ‘I do hope they manage to get him off. I don’t think I could bear to think of him being locked away for so many years. Such a brilliant man. So handsome too. It would be a terrible waste.’
‘Not if he did it,’ Beth said.
Though she instantly regretted it, it at least gave her the satisfaction of seeing Leonora’s composure ruffled again.
A few minutes later she was standing at the end of the drive watching the black Mercedes inching carefully along the country lane and wishing she could just run up into the low, slumbering hills in the distance and lose herself and the pain in their timeless peace and stability. Heather. Who was Heather? She had to ask the question, even though, in her heart, she already knew the answer. She was another mistress. Another woman he’d loved while claiming to love her. A woman, if Leonora was to be believed, whom he’d rather see now than her. Oh God, how much more of this could she stand?