A man answered and she asked for Roland, then it was Roland and she said, 'Carly here.'
'Hello!' He sounded pleased. 'I'm glad you rang, I was wondering whether to give you a call.'
'You know where I am?' Of course he knew where she was. 'Liam rang,' he explained, and of course Liam had rung. Carly said, 'It's a fantastic place.'
'Isn't it?'
'We've just had a wonderful meal.'
'You would have,' said Roland. 'I suppose it was a good idea to break the journey, although I had hoped you'd be here tonight.'
She sat down on the bed, relaxing a little. 'So had I, I thought I'd be seeing you today. I was very surprised when Liam turned up at the airport.'
'He was coming over and he managed to get a seat on your flight.' That was how Liam had explained it, and perhaps she was over-sensitive about Gerald Collett. Perhaps that had just been a casual question, meaning nothing in particular. 'Is he with you?' Roland was asking.
'I left him downstairs, he met someone he knew— Alison Parry,' and Roland chuckled,
'She was a girl-friend of his, for a few weeks.'
'He said she was thick,' Carly muttered. Alison Parry had looked delighted when she spotted him, so perhaps the reunion would go on, perhaps he would stay with her tonight.
'How are you two getting on?' Roland enquired, and she said, 'All right.'
'Good.' He chuckled again. 'But don't get too confidential with him. Remember not to say anything that could be used in evidence.'
She said lightly, 'He's a lawyer, isn't he, not a policeman?'
'Ever seen him in court?' She knew that Roland was smiling, but the time she had seen Liam in court filled her mind, in harsh clear detail. She could see him now, looking down on her from that gallery. 'I mean in action,' added Roland.
He had been quite still, grim as granite. Roland meant had she ever watched Liam conducting a case, and he knew she hadn't or she would have mentioned it before. 'No,' she said. 'Why?'
'Nobody's better at lulling the victim into dropping their guards,' said Roland, 'and then—pow! He's a cold-blooded bastard, although I love him like a brother.'
Carly tried to laugh. He was, half seriously, putting her off Liam, he didn't want them getting too friendly, but he could be explaining everything that had happened since Liam took her arm in Birmingham airport and led her away from Barney. She looked at the connecting door and thought, you have no idea how close I was to being left with no defences at all. I could have slept with Liam tonight; She said, 'I just wanted to say goodnight.'
'Goodnight, my darling,' said Roland. 'See you tomorrow and don't let him persuade you to stop anywhere else on the way.'
'I won't, I promise you.' She put the phone down very gently as though it was fragile and might break, then sat very still. Liam hadn't told her that Alison Parry was an old brief flame. He had hardly told her anything about himself. It had all been about other people. They hadn't been swapping confidences, sharing secrets, although she had been chattering all manner of personal things. Of course, of course, she had been in the witness stand ever since he had lulled her into that sense of false security, into believing they were kindred spirits, into wanting him.
That was the bitter part. She would have opened that door tonight. She had been so near to falling badly for Liam, and that would have been dreadful.
She could be wrong. Roland could be wrong too. This time Liam might be acting without any ulterior motive, but, belatedly, all her instincts were telling her that he had flown out from England with her, and booked in here overnight, to learn all he could about her. Maybe seduction was part of the plan too. Things had certainly been heading that way until he had questioned her about Gerald. He had been too much the lawyer there, that had been his one mistake, showing how his mind was working.
If they had spent the night together it would probably have finished her with Roland. It would have labelled her easy, and that would have been ironic, because she was a million miles from promiscuous.
She got up, feeling stiff with tiredness, her fingers fumbling with the catch of her necklet. When it fell from her neck she flexed her muscles, which seemed to be in tight knots at the base of her skull. All the time she was undressing she couldn't keep her eyes from the connecting door, because she was pretty sure that Liam would tap on it sooner or later. Unless he went off with his old flame, unless he stayed talking and drinking with the party until it was too late to tap on any other woman's door.
If he hadn't been waylaid leaving the dining room they would have come upstairs together, and when they reached her room she would have said, 'Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning,' showing by voice and expression that she meant it, because things had changed for her even before she phoned Roland. She intended being friendly in the morning but nothing more. She had played far enough into Liam Sherrard's hands. Too far really, she wished now that she had told him less. But at least she had come to her senses before going completely overboard and literally into his hands.
She pulled the shining bronze dress over her head and the silken underskirt stroked her skin like Cool fingertips, then she dragged it off and tossed it on to a chair. If he tapped on the door she wouldn't answer; she could have fallen asleep right away. She turned off the bedroom light, which might show under the door, finished removing her make-up in the bathroom, then climbed in between the sheets and expected to sleep because it had been a long day. ^
But she tossed for a long time, and when she tried to think pleasant thoughts—such as seeing Madame Corbe soon, and Roland, and the Chateau—it was always Liam's face that she saw. He couldn't have seemed closer if he had been standing by her bed. When she did sleep she dreamed fragments of the day: walking hand in hand through the market, sitting outside the cafe, the picnic lunch by the roadside, but it was all different. Darker, no sunshine, just a lot of shadows, and Liam looking at her with slitted eyes. He kept asking her very quietly, 'What happened to Gerald? Where is Gerald?' and at last she woke with a jerk and lay limp, and as exhausted as though she hadn't slept at all.
She was not responsible for Gerald Collett. He had never wanted to see her again and goodness knows she never wanted to see him, but she began to wonder whether there was anyone she could phone or write to, to find out if he had got his life together afterwards. Perhaps it was her fault. Gerald's counsel thought so, although Carly's friends had pointed out that it was his job to say anything that might lift some of the blame from his client.
She heard a tapping and shot up in bed, almost sure she had heard it before, that the sound not the dream had woken her. What was Liam playing at? He must think he was so fantastic if he expected her to open the door and go straight into his arms. She didn't stop to reflect that earlier she had been willing to do that. She was as indignant as though a stranger was accosting her, and she sat there,, glaring in the direction of the door, considering getting out of bed and asking, 'What do you want?' and when he told her saying, 'You must be joking!'
Then the tapping came again, from the window. A wind had risen, and the window had blown loose from its catch, banging softly to and fro. Carly got up and closed it. Except for the keening of the wind everything was quiet, and after the warm bed the night air made her shiver.
It was dark outside. The stars that had seemed so bright when they came to the inn were hidden now by the clouds, and it was dark in the room. Carly felt her way back to bed, checking the time on the luminous face of her small travelling clock. It was nearly two, and she was wide awake now and relieved of course that there had been no scene with Liam. She wondered if he was in his room, and a wave of loneliness swept over her as bad as anything she had known for years.
She felt impatient with herself, and surprised because it took a lot to depress her and there was no reason for this. But as she huddled down in the darkness she could have turned her face into the pillow and sobbed herself sick.
But she didn't weep, and after a while she slept again, and when she woke for
the second time the window pane was bright with sunshine, and again there was tapping. It was on the door to the corridor, and she pulled on her dressing gown and was greeted by the waitress of the previous night, who was carrying a tray. 'Good morning, madame.'
'Oh, good morning,' muttered Carly. 'Thank you.' She stood aside and the tray was deposited on a side table, and the waitress told her it was a beautiful day. Carly could see that for herself, but she smiled and agreed, and felt better after half a cup of coffee.
Although her reflection in the dressing table mirror looked heavy-eyed she went into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water, then came back, still yawning, to spread the soft warm croissants with butter and strawberry preserve.
When she was packed and ready to leave she came out into the corridor and hesitated by Liam's door, then shrugged and kept on walking, down the stairs into the entrance hall, where Madame Louise was already at the desk and the telephone taking bookings. She looked round with a smile for Carly and said, 'Monsieur Sheppard is in the kitchens.'
'I'm going out for a breath of air,' said Carly. She had slept badly and there was an exhausting drive ahead, but the morning air was fresh. There were still several cars, in the car park, one with a British registration number that could belong to the show-biz party, but nobody was about and Carly went across to the archway in the wall where she thought the rose garden ought to be.
There was a garden, but it was entirely devoted to vegetables, not a rose in sight nor a hint of fragrance ill the air, and she stood frowning. She had smelled roses last night. Perhaps the woman walking ahead of them into the inn had worn a floral perfume, or maybe she had imagined the smell of roses. There had been a kind, of magic about yesterday, almost like falling in love, and Carly tried to laugh at herself for such a crazy notion. But the smile was twisted, and as she walked down the straight paths between the rows of growing vegetables it turned into a heartfelt sigh.
'Carly!' Liam hailed her. She was at the far end of the vegetable garden by then, he had just come through the archway. 'Ready for off?' he asked, and she called back,
'Quite ready.'
The sun glinted on his dark hair. He didn't come to meet her, and she retraced her steps slowly because although she wanted to be on their way she was reluctant to go to him. She felt that getting too close might be a risky business. Like the spider and the fly, she thought, and reaching him she said, 'I rang the Chateau last night.'
'Did you?'
'I got Roland, who warned me not to get too confidential with you. He said you were a great one for worming out secrets.'
'What nonsense,' said Liam smoothly, and they, walked towards the car side by side, and he opened the passenger door. 'I'll fetch your case,' he said.
'Have we settled the bill?'
'Yes.'
'I'd like to pay my share.'
'I couldn't hear of it.' He had gone before Carly could say,
'Oh yes, you could, you're hearing it now. How much?' Today she was determined to owe him nothing. He might be genuinely friendly, or he could be out to trap her in some way. She didn't know which, but this morning she was on her guard.
When he came out of the hotel Alison Parry was with him. She was wearing a cream silk suit, nearly the colour of her hair, and laughing at something Liam was saying. Illogically Carly felt she was the joke, and as they came together towards the car she began to smile herself, a cool superior smile, so that when they reached her she was ready for them. 'You haven't met Alison, have you?' said Liam, and Carly drawled, 'Hello,' and thought, I'm probably as good an actress as you when it comes to the pinch.
Close up Alison Parry was breathtaking, and she had a husky sexy voice although she was only saying, 'Hello,' back, then ignoring Carly altogether. 'Now you will phone me real soon?' she said to Liam. 'You promise?'
'Of course,' said Liam, getting into the car. 'And good luck with the film.'
Alison Parry waved as the car drew away and Carly said tartly, 'Victoria would have found that fascinating. Old friend, is she?'
'Twenty-eight last month,' said Liam.
'Youngish friend, then. Gorgeous, but thick, I think you said. You don't go in for high IQ females, do you?'
'What makes you think that?'
It was another beautiful day. The sun was shining again, the sun roof was open, but the carefree camaraderie had gone. Now there was an edge to their talk. 'You're the one who said Alison Parry was thick,' said Carly, 'and I don't know much about Victoria, but if I'd listened to her with my eyes shut I'd have thought she was a pre-teenager.' That breathy little-girl voice had sounded childish, and Liam grinned:
'Oh, Victoria's bright enough.'
'Bright enough for what?' muttered Carly, and resolved to say no more about his lady friends because she was being surprisingly bitchy, and none of them were any of her business. Except that she had talked about the men in her life last night while he hadn't said a word about his own affairs.
She settled back in her seat and the miles slid by, along roads which were straight avenues of poplars between unfenced, unhedged fields stretching away into the distance. In the fields she caught occasional glimpses of giant horses pulling ploughs, and every so often Liam slowed down to enter a village, or a small market town, where the buildings were festooned with climbing plants, and window boxes made splashes of colour against the yellow and red and green shutters.
They stropped for lunch at a small hotel in one town, and Carly was careful what she was telling him when they talked. The conversation was more like that of polite strangers and they didn't linger over this meal. Liam appeared as anxious to reach the Chateau as she was, the pleasure of her company was obviously palling.
Driving along after lunch they hardly talked at all. Carly had taken the map out of the glove compartment earlier, and been following the route on it all along, so she didn't have to ask where they were, and she couldn't think of anything else to say. Although with almost anyone else she would have been chattering.
The coastline was like Cornwall, on a grander scale. For miles there were stark rocky promontories, craggy out-thrusts into a breaking sea, with stretches of smooth golden sands between. From the coast road tracks led off to tiny fishing villages and here and there to a holiday complex of chalets and caravans, while on the higher crags old blockhouses and gun-sites and what looked like castle ruins reared against the skyline; and when the coast road swept low they could see the waves breaking with a roar and sometimes the wind tossed spray over the windscreen.
Carly was biting her lip to stop herself exclaiming, 'Look at this!' or asking, 'What's over there?' but she was determined not to behave like a tourist in front of Liam, so she kept her excitement to herself, presenting him—if he should glance her way—with a slightly bored profile.
Until the road sign said Guirec Vert, and then she forgot about acting blasé and leaned forward eagerly. When the car turned off the road, through a gateway with two stone beasts rearing up either side, she swivelled in her seat to look back at them, asking, 'What are they?'
'Lions rampant. The winged variety.'
'That's handy, if they should want to fly.'
'It's reckoned to be a thousand years since the last time,' he said, 'but you don't need to worry.'
That must be a local legend, that she would hear later. She wasn't asking Liam about it. Besides, she was speechless for the moment; Madame Corbe's home was a very impressive sight.
The drive was flanked by full-grown poplar trees, leading to the wide semi-circular sweep of steps before the main door. Either side of the broad steps were great stone jars, perforated on the sides and vivid with geraniums. The house had probably been red brick once but mellowed almost to yellow, with a mass of ivy covering one side. Attic windows pierced the steep slope of the slated roof and a dozen or so twisted brick, chimneys rose against the skyline. The western wing swept almost to the cliff edge, backed by a tall tower that must give a fantastic view over the sea.
&
nbsp; It was an old, old house. The stories it could tell, thought Carly, staring up as Liam parked near the flight of steps. She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't look at him, then the great door opened and Roland came hurrying down the steps, and then she moved, scrambling out of the car.
She was very pleased to see Roland. He gave her a welcoming hug and kiss, and she smiled, 'Oh, it's lovely to be here!'
Liam was still watching her. He got out of the car too, he was standing beside them, and his expression was cynical, as though someone was telling him something he didn't believe. Carly had looked into his face when Barney was kissing her goodbye, and she wondered why this man could make her feel so insecure even when she had arms around her, and someone who was fond of her holding her close. Now she was experiencing that feeling again and she almost ran up the steps to where Madame Corbe was standing in the doorway. Roland was nice, Carly was pleased to see him again, but. she had a real tenderness for the upright old lady who had been so anxious that Carly should visit her home.
Madame Corbe held out her arms and Carly. thought, maybe I am looking for a grandmother. Maybe she wished she was Antoinette, coming home, and she must guard against that dangerous daydream.
Madame Corbe kissed Carly. 'It is good you're both here, safe and sound. Liam looked after you?'
'Very well,' said Carly.
'Not too well, I hope,' said Roland, smiling. 'Although I hear you met Alison Parry at Les Deux Soeurs.' Madame Corbe looked enquiringly and Roland explained, 'His birds turn up everywhere,' and the old lady shook her head with tolerant affection.
'It was very convenient that Liam managed to get away for a few days,' she said. 'That you could travel together.'
'Extremely convenient,' drawled Liam, and his eyes glinted as he smiled at Carly and she thanked her stars that she hadn't spent the night with him. That would have given him a trump card to play against her, because she was no longer fooling herself that they were anything but bitter opponents.
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