'Oh yes,' he said. 'What about you? What did you want to be?'
Somebody's child. That had been her first dream, a real name, not one that had been given to her like a number. They hadn't shown much imagination with 'Brown' and nobody seemed to know why 'Caroline'. She dropped her melon rind back in the bag and wiped her sticky fingers with a cleansing pad. 'I like what I do,' she said, 'making clothes.'
'How did you start?'
'I always liked sewing. After I left the orphanage I made most of my own clothes and then I wondered about doing it professionally. I was a salesgirl when I met Gerald and after—all that—I wanted to get away, and I fancied some sort of career, so I took this course in design and dressmaking.'
It had brought her to the Midlands. She had completed it and was earning her living as a waitress in a Stratford hotel, preparing her first 'collection' to take round the shops, when she'd met Ruth. She told Liam all this, she seemed to be doing all the talking. He put in a word here and there, and they got on with the meal until the bottle of wine was almost empty and most of the food had gone, and Carly started to pack away the debris into the carrier bag.
Then she remembered the sandwich still in her coat pocket and brought that out. 'Bacon sandwich,' she explained. 'Ruth made it. It was supposed to be my breakfast.'
'For dinner,' said Liam, 'you shall have a superb meal.' He was still leaning against the tree trunk, long legs crossed at the ankles, hands clasped behind his head. He breathed deeply as though savouring a superb aroma. 'Marvellous,' he said. 'A legend in its own time.'
'What is?' Carly eyed him quizzically. 'You look too thin to care about food,' and he grinned.
'Just selective in my appetites, but ravenous for the best.'
She burst out laughing, 'So what's a legend in its own time?'
'The hotel we should reach about seven this evening.' He checked his watch. 'So long as we leave here in the next hour or so.'
'When do we reach the Chateau?'
'Again, it depends when we set off. Early tomorrow evening, I should think.'
She had known it was a long run, and she had known they were taking their time, but she had presumed they were making straight for Guirec Vert with no overnight stop on the way. She was holding the wine bottle and as she put it into the carrier among the papers and scraps she asked, 'Do your aunt and Roland know we won't be arriving till tomorrow?'
'Of course.'
He sounded positive enough, and she looked down at him, unconvinced but undecided what she should do, biting her lower lip thoughtfully.
CHAPTER FOUR
They came to L'Auberge des Deux Soeurs as night was falling, with stars already thick in the sky. The air was soft, and seemed scented to Carly. She thought it was roses, that were in a garden somewhere, but the courtyard where they drew up alongside a row of parked cars was high-walled and dominated by, the big sprawling outline of the inn.
It had been a farmhouse, Liam had told her, driving along. After the war two widowed sisters had started a restaurant, which had prospered until now it was an hotel where the food and service and standard of comfort brought customers back again and again.
Another couple were walking across the courtyard ahead of them, and the entrance hall was pleasantly full. Not crowded, but enough people to tell you that the place was popular, all looking as though they were enjoying their evening out. Through an archway Carly saw the dining room—red flock wallpaper, white tablecloths, the gleam of silver—and behind the mahogany desk a woman with grey hair done in a bun, wearing a grey silk blouse and a large cameo brooch, greeted Liam like an old friend.
This was Madame Marie, one of the sisters. There were three generations helping to run the inn now, and Carly wondered how long Liam had been coming. The man who picked up their cases looked in his mid-thirties,, and he said he was enchanted to meet Carly and then went on talking in French to Liam. As they followed him upstairs he asked about Madame Corbe's health—she got that, but the rest was gibberish to her.
He stopped on the first floor, opening a door, and this was her room. There were two rooms waiting. 'If we are staying somewhere overnight I want my own room,' she had said, sitting on the turf under the trees when Liam broke the news that they were ending the day here. 'And so you shall,' he had said. But she had still watched closely when Madame took down the keys. If only one had been produced she would probably have made a stand, although the booking must have been made before Liam left England, and the way things were then he could hardly have presumed on sharing a room or anything else with Carly.
The room was delightful—shell pink, with looped curtains and frills around the bed and dressing table. She peered into the tiny bathroom, which was palest pink too. She needed a bath. As soon as she. had unpacked she would go in there and float away the grime of the day.
The other door obviously led into an adjoining room. Carly slid the bolt and tapped, hearing a bolt slide on the other side, then the door opened and Liam said, 'Hello.'
'They must be used to you bringing ladies along.'
'Believe it or not,' he said, 'they thought the second room was booked for my aunt.'
'Then why the connecting door?'
'When she's sleeping in strange beds she likes someone within call.'
She didn't believe him, but it was a good try. 'Well, I'm in very good health,' she said lightly, 'so we can shut the door, because if I want to get in touch I'll manage to walk over and knock.'
'Any time,' he said, and again she had the feeling that this was familiar, she and Liam standing close, no doors locked between them, only the rest of the world locked out. 'Any time at all,' he added, and Carly put hands up to cheeks that were suddenly hot, and turned to look around her room.
'It's so pretty that I don't feel I should be walking around in it looking grubby and sticky.'
'You look beautiful.' His voice was husky, as if that wasn't just a simple compliment but almost as though he was saying, 'I think I'm falling in love with you.' Then he smiled, 'You want a bath, you want your dinner. See you downstairs in half an hour?'
'Mmm.' She got that out and managed a smile, and she thought she was the one who shut the door. But Liam might have done, because she didn't believe she would have turned away before she had said that she wanted a bath and she wanted her dinner, but most of all she wanted him.
It was as well the door was closed, because that would have been right out of character. Carly was always the one who held back. She never rushed into an affair, and she was glad now that she had half an hour to collect herself. Besides, she was looking a mess, although Liam had said she was beautiful.
She opened her case, unpacked nightclothes and took out her favourite dress. She hadn't made this one, she had bought it in a rash moment of extravagance and always felt wicked and wonderful in it. It was in bronze lame, cut straight across the bust, with thin shoulder straps. The long straight skirt had a high side slit and she wore it with a gilt tube necklace and a smooth bronze bangle. After she had let slip how much she had paid for it, it became Barney's favourite too. If they were likely to meet anyone he wanted to impress he would often say, 'Wear your little glitter dress.'
She hoped Barney was all right. She hadn't given him another thought since Birmingham airport vanished in the mists, and after that fleeting reflection he slipped out of her mind again.
In this dress, and after she had bathed and put on her make-up, she should look as fetching as most of the ladies Liam Sherrard had travelled with. Carly knew her good points, she had had to shift for herself, and she had learned how to make the best of her appearance. When she went downstairs she intended to look stunning.
There was a bath sachet in the bathroom and she swished up the water to a foamy pale green, then undressed quickly and slid beneath the foam line with a shiver of delight. A pity she couldn't let her head fall back and her hair float out on the water—but there was no time for washing her hair, nor really for lying and soaking, although this was wo
nderfully comforting.
If Ruth could see me now, she thought, and know who's in the next room shaving and showering and getting ready to have dinner with me and tell me again that I'm beautiful.
Liam was beautiful, he really was. She raised a leg, stretching her toes and watching the water cascade off; and she could imagine Liam beneath the shower, dark hair flattened as water streamed over his head and shoulders and in rivulets down the slim muscular body with his broad shoulders and flat stomach.
'I am beautiful,' -she said. She had long, long legs and a good figure. Men desired her. She was fairly sure that Liam wanted her, and she was quite sure that thinking about him Stirred a need in her that .was almost frightening.
She towelled herself dry and looked at her face in the mirror over the handbasin and said, 'No, I'm not.' Not beautiful, but she could still look good enough to eat, as he'd said while they were drinking their coffee; and there was a radiance about her now that made her satisfied with, her appearance when she was dressed and ready to go downstairs.
She had taken a few minutes over the half hour. The corridor was empty when she stepped out of her room, the voices and the laughter were all coming from the ground floor, and when she reached the top of the staircase she looked down on the entrance hall. Liam was sitting at a table by a window talking to a man and a woman, but almost immediately he looked up.
Her moving figure at the top of the stairs must have caught his eye, of course he was expecting her to appear, but she thought, I saw you right away, I didn't look around for you, and the moment I saw you, you saw me. How about that?
He said a few words to his companions and came to the bottom of the stairs, and Carly walked down with her inborn grace, head high, smiling. 'Hello,' she said, and he took her hand for the last step and her skin tingled.
He wore black slacks and a midnight blue velvet jacket, and his shirt was fine lawn. His hair was still damp so that it curled slightly round his ears and at the nape of, his neck. 'Every time I see you,' she said, 'you look different. I suppose it is the clothes?'
He grinned, 'There's one way of finding out,' and she raised her eyebrows.
'Oh, I don't think they'd care for any stripping off in the foyer. We'd never get our dinner after that.'
She felt quite crazily happy, as though she had drunk a lot of champagne or won the pools or found herself in Paradise. 'How do I look?' she asked, as Liam guided her towards the archway leading to the dining room, and he said, 'Fantastic. And very expensive. You never made that dress?'
'You're right,' she said, 'I never did.'
They were seated by the young woman who came to meet them and who chattered volubly in French to Liam, all the way down the dining room—at a table for two in an alcove, and presented with menus, handwritten in beautiful script.
There was discussion between Liam and the young woman, during which Carly listened, looking from one to the other, and when Liam asked her, 'What do you think?' she shrugged,
'Not a lot, I can't understand what you're saying.'
'Sorry.' He began to translate, and she said,
'I'll go along with what you're having. I'm sure it's going to be delicious.' The surprise would be part of the fun. Everything that had happened to her since she had stepped into that plane had been unplanned. For years she had managed her life. The episode with Gerald had made her cautious, but this was a holiday, without responsibilities or cares, and she knew that whatever Liam selected would be good.
She was right. The food from the kitchen of the Inn of the Two Sisters was out of this world. The soup was superb, then fillets of sole Mornay and veal chops with truffles.
It was the best meal Carly had ever eaten, and Liam Sherrard was probably the most attractive man with whom she had ever shared a table for two. Certainly he was the most intelligent. He told her about his work, and had her laughing at some of the cases and characters he had come across, and she talked about the boutique.
'You do all right?' he asked. 'Well, I'm sure you do. It looks a very attractive shop, I'm sure the customers flock in.'
'You've seen it?' Carly was slightly surprised, but he explained,
'My aunt's talked about it. She was very impressed.'
'She seemed to like sitting there and watching,' Carly admitted. 'And yes, it is a nice little shop.'
She speared a tiny morsel of truffle and chewed it slowly, serious for the moment, then shook the gravity off and smiled, 'Oh, who doesn't have money problems? Something will turn up.'
'Of course it will,' Liam agreed with her, and leaned across to refill her wineglass. 'You see the people who've just come in?' She could see them by pretending to be admiring the general decor, it meant swivelling round in her chair. 'Do you recognise the girl in the blue dress?'
The dress was baby-blue, cut very low. The girl had a cloud of pale fair hair and the face of an angel child. She was in a party of four whose general appearance screamed show-biz, and Carly blinked, 'No, but I'm sure I should,' and when Liam named a film star, none of whose films she had seen but whose name everybody knew, she whistled soundlessly and joked, 'Should I be asking for her autograph?'
'I shouldn't bother,' said Liam. 'She's so thick, she probably can't write.'
'Who'd need to, looking like that? J didn't realise we were eating with celebrities.'
'A few,' he said. They had a lovely seat for seeing without being seen. Not that anyone would recognise Carly, but Liam might be known, and this alcove provided cover as he identified other diners for her. He kept her giggling, telling scandalous tales about their love lives.
'I don't know how they find the energy,' she gurgled. 'It must get so complicated.'
'Not if you keep an appointments diary.'
'You're speaking from experience? That's what you do?' She was fooling, it was all bubbling and bright, and he smiled with her.
'Sometimes,' he said. 'Some of them have been forgettable. How about you? How many lovers do you have?'
She talked. Why not? None of it had been serious. She asked, when she was up to date and had explained how Barney was finding it hard to believe she didn't want to share his apartment, 'Is Victoria forgettable? Do you remember time and place when you're meeting her?'
'She reminds me,' Liam shrugged.
'I'll bet,' said Carly. She could see Victoria Hayden on the phone making sure that Liam turned up for their date. .She could remember her fingers clutching his arm at the birthday party.
'By the way,' he said gently, 'did you ever hear what happened to Gerald Collett when he came out of prison?'
Carly was eating a cassis sorbet and it was as though she bit on a piece of jagged ice in the melting smoothness. 'No,' she said.
'Of course not,' said Liam.
'Did you?'
'No.' There was silence for a few seconds. There had been silences before, of course, but this one seemed different to Carly. Gerald's name had shattered her peace of mind. She did know that he only served half the sentence, with remission for good behaviour, because for a while she had kept in touch with friends in the town where she had known him: 'It was an evil day when I met you,' he had written in the letter his father had handed her outside the court. 'And now for God's sake keep away from me.' She had done Gerald no deliberate harm, but he had tried to brand her, and at the very least it was tactless of Liam to question her about him.
Tactless and a little cruel, unless it had some real purpose. Carly couldn't think what, and when she looked up from the purple sorbet she was stirring in her dish Liam said, 'You must try that some time with vodka poured over it. It's a pleasant combination.'
'Lethal, I should think,' she commented, and everything went on as before, the meal drawing to an end with coffee for both and brandy for him. 'Not for me,' she said. 'It was a lovely wine and a delicious meal.' She was still smiling, but strangely sober as though a warning bell had struck. Liam had told her he had rung the Chateau, while he was waiting for her to come down, and spoken to-Roland and Madam
e Corbe. They sent her their regards. Now as she drained her coffee cup she said, 'I'd like to have spoken to your aunt and Roland. Is it too late to say goodnight?'
It was late. It was probably silly, but she no longer trusted Liam completely and a word with Madame Corbe or Roland would have been reassuring. Liam was looking doubtful, telling her 'My aunt will certainly be in bed. I suppose we could get Roland, although there doesn't seem much point.'
'No,' she agreed. 'Well, I think I'll call it a day,' and now those rooms with the connecting door had begun to worry her. Liam mentioning Gerald meant he still had reservations about her, and doors would stay' locked tonight because she now had reservations too.
'Don't you hurry,' she told him. There was still brandy in his glass. But he was on his feet, close behind her. She started to, say how tired she was when someone shrieked, 'Liam!' and it was the angel-faced girl in the baby-blue dress, with which the other three at her table all sat up and took notice and obviously Liam would have to go across to them, and say goodnight.
'Goodnight, then,' said Carly, and kept on walking, quickening her pace slightly until she was out of the dining room. She went straight upstairs to her room, she hadn't bothered about the bolt on the connecting doors before. Then she picked up the phone by the bed and asked, 'Parlez-vous anglais?' when it was answered.
They did. 'I want to phone Madame Corbe, the Chateau des Sables, Guirec Vert' she said. 'Mr. Sherrard phoned there once tonight, I think. He's in the dining room, he can give you the number.'
No trouble at all. They had the number, and as she waited Carly knew this wasn't necessary. Tomorrow she would be at the Chateau. She didn't seriously imagine that Liam had kidnapped her. Why should he? Unless he was Gerald's friend and something dreadful had happened to Gerald, and that wasn't likely, she would have heard about that somehow.
She was behaving idiotically. If she had been kidnapped they wouldn't be in a super hotel where everybody recognised him. Kidnapped? She had to be muzzy in the head to keep harping back to that. But that was the trouble, she was muzzy, her head was spinning, and it was all because Liam had asked her about Gerald. Until then she' had been having a wonderful time, feeling secure and happy, but that had been like a stone thrown straight at her face.
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