by Anne Mather
His gaze flickered over her for a moment, taking in the fragility of her appearance, and then with a casual movement of his shoulders he walked across to where an opened cabinet displayed an assortment of bottles.
‘What will you drink?’ he inquired, turning his back on her and uncorking the whisky bottle, scooping ice out of its container, chinking it into a glass.
Julie took a deep breath. ‘Gin and tonic, please,’ she replied, taking care that her voice should reveal none of her thoughts.
Robert made the drink and turning walked across to hand it to her. As he did so Julie caught his gaze, and taking the initiative, she said: ‘Are you going to tell me now why we’ve been brought here?’
Robert hesitated, rubbing his palms together where the condensation on the chilled glass had dampened them. ‘Does it matter?’ he asked briefly. ‘I can assure you my motives were purely unselfish ones.’
‘What sam I supposed to gather from that remark?’
‘What I say. My mother is incapable of accommodating you. Naturally as Michael’s widow you are welcome here.’
‘You don’t sound very welcoming.’ Julie sipped her drink to hide her nervousness.
‘Don’t I?’ Robert made an indifferent gesture. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re not sorry at all!’ Julie burst out, and then regretted it. Taking another trembling breath, she hastened on: ‘What I can’t understand is why your mother should have written and offered Emma and me a home now that – now that she’s alone, and not really mean it.’
‘Would you have come if you’d known it was I who was offering you a home?’ inquired Robert coldly.
Julie pressed her lips together. ‘Of course not.’
‘There you are, then.’ Robert turned away to get his own drink and Julie gave a helpless gasp.
‘You mean I was brought here under false pretences?’
‘Stop being dramatic, Julie. It was necessary that you should be brought back here. This was the only way.’
Julie was indignant. ‘But why was it necessary? I – your mother never wanted me when – when Michael was alive. Why should she want me now that Michael is dead?’
Robert swallowed half his whisky at a gulp and then looked at her again. ‘My mother is changing for dinner. We don’t have much time. I want you to tell me what happened – before she comes back.’
‘About Michael’s death, you mean?’
‘Naturally.’
Julie bent her head. ‘Why naturally? You haven’t shown much interest up until now.’
Robert uttered an expletive. ‘I don’t want to waste time arguing with you, Julie. Just tell me the facts. I could hardly discuss this in front of Emma, could I? And my mother’s too emotional about it for us to have a coherent conversation in front of her.’
Julie looked up indignantly. ‘And I’m not emotional, of course. He – he was my husband, that’s all!’
Robert reached for a cigar from a box on a low table, lighting it with suppressed violence. She could see it in the hardening of his facial muscles, in the grim way his teeth held the cigar, in the impatient flick of the table lighter.
‘What do you want me to say, Julie?’ he asked, straightening. ‘Do you want to hear platitudes from me? I think not. We’d both know they were not sincere. But I did love my brother, whatever you may think, and I want to know about his death. Now – will you tell me?’
Julie turned her back on him. She couldn’t bear to look at him while she spoke about something that was still painful to her.
‘You – you had the doctor’s reports,’ she said tightly. ‘You didn’t come to see him.’
‘No. A fact I bitterly regret.’ His voice was harsh.
‘Do you?’ Julie sounded sceptical, but she didn’t pursue it. ‘Well, I don’t know what more you want to hear. I didn’t know about the first attack, if that’s of any interest to you. Michael forced the doctor to keep the truth to himself. I thought he was overworked, tired. I never suspected the heat was affecting his heart. He had put on weight, of course. He drank quite a lot, but then so did everybody. In any event, I don’t believe Michael took it really seriously himself. But when the second attack came, so soon after the first, he hadn’t the strength to fight it …’ She broke off, fighting back the emotionalism that threatened to overwhelm her. Michael had been such a young man, a good man; he had not deserved to die.
‘I see.’ She heard Robert move and pour himself another drink. ‘Was he in much pain, before he died, I mean?’
Julie shook her head. ‘Oh, no. The drugs they prescribed kept him more or less comatose. Sometimes he didn’t even recognize me. But I think he guessed it was hopeless.’
‘You should have sent for me.’ Robert’s voice was abrupt. ‘You knew I would have come if I had known – if I had guessed—’
Julie looked unseeingly through the slats of the venetian blind. ‘He wouldn’t allow me to send for anybody. I don’t know why. But I couldn’t go against his wishes.’
Robert walked across the width of the lounge to her side. She hadn’t looked round, but she was conscious of him with every fibre of her being. ‘I would have come to the funeral,’ he said shortly. ‘But I was out of the country when your cable arrived. And naturally the burial took place so much more quickly than it would have done here.’
‘Yes.’ Julie finished her drink and moved away from the window. Away from him. ‘Is that all?’
Robert swung round, his expression hardening at the resignation in her voice. ‘Are you so indifferent?’ he muttered.
‘Indifferent!’ Julie put a hand to her throat defensively. ‘My God! You think I’m indifferent?’
‘Well, aren’t you? I can’t see any tears in those limpid green eyes!’
Julie found it difficult to breathe suddenly. ‘That’s a foul thing to say!’
‘Why? Am I mistaken? Are you really the bereft widow?’
Julie stared at him for a long moment, anger strengthening her weakening resolve. ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ she demanded fiercely. ‘I didn’t ask to come here! I didn’t ask to be patronized by the powerful Pemberton family! I want nothing from any of you – you, least of all!’
Robert’s face paled slightly under his tan and she realized that for once she had succeeded in really getting under his skin. ‘That’s right, Julie,’ he snarled. ‘Show your true colours! Show what a selfish coarse little bitch you really are!’
Julie took a step forward. She wanted to slap that sneering violence from his face once and for all. But even as she moved the door opened to admit Lucy Pemberton.
Lucy was wearing a long black gown of heavy silk, several strings of pearls about her still youthful throat. For all she was almost sixty, life had aged her little, and looking at her now Julie found it hard to believe that she had not been well enough to come to the airport to meet them.
But it was no use harbouring grudges. In a few days, a week at the most, she would find somewhere for herself and Emma to live, and then she would be free of the Pemberton family for good.
‘Hello,’ said Lucy, when she saw them both. ‘You’re still here, Robert?’ Was that a note of reproof in her voice? ‘I thought your appointment was for seven-thirty. It’s gone that already, you know.’
Robert stubbed out the cigar he had been smoking and dropped it carelessly into the ashtray. ‘There’s no hurry, Mother,’ he remarked, in complete control of himself again.
‘I’m not sure Pamela would agree with you, darling.’ There was definitely a note of reproof now, and a brief dismissing glance in Julie’s direction. ‘You must meet Pamela, Julie. Pamela Hillingdon. You may have heard of the family. She and Robert are getting married in the spring.’
Julie managed to appear unmoved by this news. ‘Really,’ she said evenly. ‘But I doubt whether I’ll ever have that opportunity. She and I no doubt move in different circles.’
Robert had been reaching for the handle of the door, but at her words he turned abrupt
ly to face her, his eyes narrowing. ‘I don’t understand what you mean, Julie,’ he stated flatly, and his mother drew her brows together in delicate bewilderment.
‘You’re not going to be difficult, Julie, I hope,’ she exclaimed, and received a quelling glance from her son which Julie found hard to comprehend.
‘Well?’ Robert demanded. ‘Exactly what are you saying, Julie?’
Julie felt her cheeks colouring in spite of her determination to stay cool. ‘Surely it’s obvious,’ she stated steadily. ‘I – well – Emma and I can’t live here. Within the next few days, I intend to look around for a job and somewhere for Emma and myself to live—’
‘What?’ Lucy put a trembling hand to her temples and sank down weakly into the nearest chair. ‘Oh, Julie, you can’t be serious!’
‘It doesn’t matter whether she is or otherwise,’ snapped Robert obliquely. ‘She hasn’t yet been informed of the facts of the case.’
‘What facts?’ Julie pressed her palms together apprehensively.
Lucy looked up at her son. ‘You didn’t tell her?’
‘I didn’t get the chance.’ Robert raked a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. When he was disturbed as he was now it was painfully easy to remember the last confrontation she had had with him, and Julie bent her head to avoid the cold brilliance of those grey eyes.
‘Will you please tell me what I’m supposed to be told?’ Julie wondered how long her legs would continue to support her. ‘Is there some reason why I should not be permitted to do as I like?’ She looked up suddenly, her eyes guarded. ‘Because if there is, I shall fight it.’
‘Oh, Julie, please.’ Lucy fanned herself with one hand. ‘Don’t be difficult! We only want to do what’s best for – for you, and for Emma.’
Robert flicked back his cuff and glanced at the broad gold watch on his wrist and Julie stiffened. ‘Don’t let me keep you from your appointment,’ she exclaimed. ‘Just say what you have to say and go!’
Robert’s eyes glittered. She knew that had they been alone there would have been things said which they might both have regretted later, although she doubted that Robert ever did anything he might regret.
‘Michael left a will,’ he said at last.
‘I know that. He left his shares in the company to the family. So what? I don’t need anything—’
‘Don’t talk rubbish!’ Robert lost control for a moment and turning away he poured himself another drink, swallowing half of it while his mother clicked her tongue irritably.
‘Can’t we all keep our tempers?’ she asked, through tight lips.
Robert turned back, the glass in his hand. ‘Very well, I’ll try and be brief. Michael left his shares in the company to the family to be kept in trust for Emma until she’s twenty-one. Until then, she is left in my guardianship.’
‘No!’ The word was torn incredulously from Julie’s lips.
‘Yes,’ said Robert inflexibly. ‘And I shouldn’t advise you to fight that!’
Julie out put a hand, catching the back of a chair to support herself. She couldn’t believe her ears. Michael couldn’t have made such a will. Not knowing … not knowing …
She closed her eyes. She thought she was going to faint and she heard Lucy say: ‘Good heavens, Robert, she’s going to pass out!’ before strong hands she hadn’t the will to shake off were lowering her firmly into a chair. Resting her head against the soft upholstery the feeling of faintness receded, and she opened her eyes again to find Robert about to put a glass of some amber liquid into her hand.
‘Drink this,’ he advised. ‘It will make you feel better.’
Julie’s breathing was short and constricted. ‘Nothing will make me feel better,’ she retorted childishly. ‘Take it away!’
Robert ignored her, pressing the glass into her hand so that she was forced to take it or spill it over her dress. ‘Don’t be foolish!’ he said coldly, straightening.
Julie looked at the glass unseeingly. She was trembling violently, and her mind was running round in circles trying to dismiss what had just been said as impossible.
‘You must go, Robert.’ Lucy was looking quite agitated now. ‘I can handle this.’
‘Can you?’ Robert looked sceptical.
‘Of course. Julie must be made to understand her position. As Michael’s widow—’
‘Oh, stop talking about me as though I wasn’t here!’ cried Julie, struggling up in her seat.
Robert looked at her dispassionately. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Are you prepared to discuss this reasonably?’
‘Reasonably? Reasonably? How can I be reasonable? Emma’s my child—’
‘But my responsibility,’ inserted Robert.
Julie shook her head helplessly. ‘Why would Michael do such a thing to me?’ she asked brokenly.
‘Don’t be maudlin,’ Lucy Pemberton was impatient. ‘My son had the sense to realize that should anything happen to him, the person most suited to bringing up his child should be his own brother.’
‘But I’m her mother!’ Julie protested.
‘Yes. And without us, what could you give her?’ Lucy sniffed. ‘You never had anything—’
‘Money’s not everything!’ cried Julie, gripping the arm of her chair with her free hand.
‘I didn’t mention money.’
‘No, but that’s what you meant, didn’t you?’
‘There are other – qualities—’
‘What do you mean?’ Julie caught her breath.
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Robert ran a hand round the back of his neck, smoothing the hair that brushed his collar. ‘Let’s stop this arguing! It doesn’t matter for what reason Michael made his decision. The decision’s made now, and we must make the best of it.’
Julie thrust the untouched glass of brandy on to a side table. The smell had been enough for her. Then she got unsteadily to her feet. ‘I don’t want to make the best of it,’ she said. ‘I suppose that was why you wrote asking me to come here, wasn’t it?’ She was looking at Lucy now. ‘You knew if you told me the truth I might not agree.’
Robert heaved a sigh. ‘It might be true to say that my mother wrote to you to make things easier for you, but regardless of whether you like it or not, the will stands and will be adhered to whatever the circumstances.’
Julie swallowed hard. ‘I could contest it.’
‘You could,’ Robert agreed dryly. ‘But as my brother also states that you shall be cared for, too, I hardly think any lawyer would take the case.’ He made an impatient gesture. ‘What have you to contest?’
Julie moved her head slowly from side to side. ‘There – there must be ways,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I – I can’t be forced to live here.’
‘Agreed. You can live where you like. But if you want to remain with Emma, then you’ll have to do what I want you to do.’
‘Which is?’ Julie’s lip curled.
‘Remain here until the house I’ve bought in the country is prepared, and then live there, with Emma, and with a young governess I’ve already employed for her.’
Julie was aghast. ‘You mean – you mean you’ve already bought this house – employed this woman – all on the strength of my agreement?’
Robert shook his head. ‘On the strength of Michael’s will, Julie.’
‘And – and you? You’re getting married soon. How – how can you care for Emma?’
‘Until my marriage, I intend to spend most week-ends with her. Afterwards, no doubt some arrangement for week-ends or holidays can be arranged. I’m not unreasonable, Julie. You’ll still have your daughter.’
Julie uttered an angry cry. ‘When you say so! Is that it? And what if this fiancée of yours, this – this Pamela – doesn’t care for the idea?’
‘Pamela already knows of Robert’s commitment,’ stated Lucy complacently. ‘Really, Julie, I do think you’re behaving very ungratefully. One would imagine Robert was about to kidnap Emma and prevent you from having any kind of access. I think he’s being most
generous.’
Julie shook her head. She was helpless in the face of their calm detachment, and an awful feeling of despair was gripping her heart. She was tied, tied hand and foot, and Michael was responsible. But why? Why had he done this? Surely he of all people must have known she could not bear to feel beholden to Robert …
Suddenly the telephone began to ring. The shrill sound was startling in the silence which had fallen. Robert hesitated a moment, and then walked swiftly across the room and lifted the receiver.
‘Yes?’ he said abruptly, and then his expression relaxed. ‘Oh, hello, Pamela. Yes, yes, I know. I’m sorry. Something came up. They’ve arrived, yes. I know – I know – I’ll be leaving shortly.’
Julie turned away, and as she did so Halbird came into the room from the direction of the kitchen, an enormous white apron covering his dark trousers and waistcoat.
Seeing that Robert was using the telephone, he addressed himself to Lucy. ‘Dinner is ready, madam. Shall I begin to serve?’
Lucy got regally out of her chair. ‘Thank you, Halbird. We’ll be through in five minutes.’
‘Yes, madam.’ Halbird withdrew again and Lucy looked resignedly at her daughter-in-law.
‘You’ll have gathered that Robert is dining out this evening,’ she said, in an undertone. ‘I hope we can have dinner without any further melodramatics.’
Julie stared at her. ‘This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?’ she demanded heatedly. ‘You never wanted me to marry – Michael, and now you’re determined to control Emma’s life, too.’
‘Just as you were determined to marry into this family,’ snapped Lucy, all vestige of tolerance disappearing. ‘You couldn’t have Robert, so you made do with Michael!’
Julie’s lips parted on a gasp of horror, and then without another word she brushed past her mother-in-law and opening the panelled doors left the room.