by Anne Mather
In the comparative peace of her own room she stood in the centre of the floor fighting for control. This would not do. She would achieve nothing by being emotional. She needed time. Time to think this out; to adjust to her new circumstances; to endeavour to salvage something from the wreckage of her hopes for the future. By behaving foolishly now she could destroy any chance of herself and Emma leading a normal life.
She looked down at her hands. The palms were damp, and there was a film of sweat on her forehead. The thought of food, of sitting down at a table with Lucy Pemberton was intolerable right now, and on impulse she unzipped her dress and was about to step out of it preparatory to taking a cooling shower when the door of her room opened without warning and Robert stood on the threshold glaring at her.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he bit out savagely. ‘Halbird is waiting to serve dinner, and I’ve got to go out.’
Julie held the two sides of her gown together behind her back, aware that his painful scrutiny missed little. ‘I’m not stopping anything,’ she said. ‘Let your mother have her dinner. I couldn’t eat a thing.’
‘For God’s sake, Julie, be reasonable!’ Robert cupped the back of his neck with his hands as though it ached. ‘I’m trying to be patient. Now, I’m asking you – not telling you, or commanding you, but asking you to go and eat dinner with my mother and try and behave as though none of this had ever happened.’
Julie’s long dark lashes glittered with unshed tears. ‘You’ve got to be joking!’ she choked.
‘But don’t you see? It need not have happened this way. If you’d only been prepared to accept—’
‘Your charity, Robert?’ She held up her head. ‘No, thanks, I could never accept that.’
‘Then in God’s name, what do you plan to do?’ Robert advanced into the room, half-closed the door, and then opened it again as though having second thoughts.
Julie stood her ground. She would not allow him to intimidate her. She must not. ‘I – I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll have to accept your plans for Emma, but I – I don’t intend to remain dependent upon you.’
Robert frowned. ‘What will you do?’
‘I’ll get a job. If you’ve employed a governess for Emma, my presence is going to be incidental for most, or at least part, of the day. What do you expect me to do, Robert? Twiddle my thumbs?’
‘I expect you to behave as the widow of Michael Pemberton should behave – with respect, and decorum.’ Robert’s gaze raked her. ‘What have you done all these years in Malaya? How did you fill your days?’
Julie moved uncomfortably. ‘That was different. I – I had a home. A husband and family to care for.’ She turned aside, unable to bear the penetration of those grey eyes, unknowingly revealing to him the vulnerable nape of her neck, and the pale tan of the skin of her back where her dress was unfastened.
‘You still have a family,’ muttered Robert harshly. Then more huskily: ‘God, Julie, why are you so thin? How long is it since you had a good meal?’
Julie realized her state of undress with some embarrassment and turned to him abruptly. ‘Will you please go away and leave me alone? I – I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed.’
‘Julie—’ he was beginning, when there was a sound behind them and looking beyond Robert, Julie saw her mother-in-law standing in the doorway.
‘Robert!’ his mother exclaimed in annoyance. ‘Are you still here? I thought you must have gone. I was just coming to see what Julie – was – doing—’ Her voice slowed as she, too, took in Julie’s appearance. ‘Good heavens, what is going on?’
‘Nothing’s going on!’ snapped Julie, unable to stand any more of this. ‘Will you go? Both of you? I’m not hungry, and I am tired. I just want to be left alone.’
Robert swung on his heel and walked out of the room. ‘I’m leaving now,’ he said to his mother. ‘Good night.’
‘Good night, darling.’ Lucy watched him walk away along the corridor and then as the outer door slammed, she turned back to Julie. ‘I gather you’re not joining me for dinner.’
‘That’s right.’ Julie felt unutterably weary. ‘Is it too much to ask that I should be left alone?’
Lucy made an indifferent movement of her shoulders. ‘Of course not. But don’t think I’m a fool, will you, Julie?’
Julie stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’
Lucy’s gaze dropped down her body insolently. ‘Must I elucidate?’ she queried coldly. ‘Entertaining Robert in that state!’
Julie gasped. ‘I was not entertaining Robert!’ she denied hotly. ‘I – I – he just walked in on me!’
Lucy shook her head slowly. ‘I think not. My son knows better than to walk unannounced into a young woman’s bedroom.’
Julie spread a hand helplessly. ‘Go away,’ she said appealingly, ‘please!’
Lucy hesitated only a moment longer and then she nodded briefly and walked away without speaking again.
Julie almost ran across to the door and slammed it heavily, leaning back against it with trembling limbs. Oh, God, she thought despairingly. How was she ever going to bear it?
CHAPTER THREE
THE next morning Julie was awakened by Emma bouncing on the end of her bed, and she opened her eyes reluctantly, aware of an indefinable feeling of ominous apprehension. The events of the previous day came flooding back to her, and for a moment she longed to bury her head under the covers and stay where she was.
Then Emma’s bright little face swam into focus and she knew she could not spoil her pleasure in the day.
Emma was dressed already. Someone had supervised what she should put on, for the trews and sweater she was wearing had not been unpacked the night before, and her long straight hair had been combed into order.
Julie struggled into a sitting position. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, reaching for her watch which she had laid on the bedside table when she went to bed. ‘Heavens! It’s after ten. Why didn’t you wake me earlier?’
‘Grandma said you were tired, and Uncle Robert said you would feel better after a long sleep.’
Julie smoothed her hair behind her ears. ‘You mean – they’re up?’
‘Well, Grandma’s not dressed yet. I had breakfast with her, in her room, and Uncle Robert came in later and asked what I usually wore.’
‘I see.’ Julie reached for her dressing-gown. ‘And did you wash and clean your teeth?’
‘Yes. Uncle Robert showed me where everything was. And that man – Halbird—’
‘Mr. Halbird, darling,’ inserted Julie automatically, sliding out of bed.
Emma shrugged indifferently. ‘Well, whoever he is – he unpacked my things and we put them all away in my own drawers.’ She smiled. ‘He said I was very grown up for my age.’
Julie sighed. ‘Who did?’
‘Halbird – Mr. Halbird, I mean.’
Julie shook her head. ‘Well, I wish you’d woken me. Where is everyone now?’
‘Grandma’s getting dressed and Uncle Robert’s gone to get the car out. We’re going out.’
Julie, on her way to the bathroom, swung round. ‘Who is?’
‘Uncle Robert and me,’ said Emma ungrammatically. She smiled complacently. ‘We’re going to see the new house.’
Julie stared at her for a long moment. ‘You’re sure Uncle Robert said he’s taking you.’
‘Of course.’ Emma jumped off the bed indignantly. ‘He said he’d show me Buckingham Palace, too.’
Julie pushed open the bathroom door, and going inside turned on the shower. Then she secured her hair beneath a plastic cap and took off her dressing-gown and nightdress. As she stepped under the shower, she felt a disturbing sense of envy at Emma’s completely natural adaptation to these new circumstances. What it was to be a child, to accept everything on its face value without searching beneath the surface for ulterior motives.
Later, she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towelling bathrobe to shift Emma out while she dressed.
�
��When are you leaving?’ she asked, trying to keep the possessiveness out of her voice.
Emma shrugged. ‘Soon, I suppose. When you’re ready, I guess.’
‘Me?’ Julie swung round on her. ‘What have I to do with it?’
‘Well, you’re coming, too, aren’t you?’ Emma looked puzzled.
Julie sighed. ‘Did Uncle Robert say that, too.’
Emma considered for a moment. ‘Well, he told me to come and wake you and ask you if you’d like some coffee.’
‘Did he indeed?’ Julie gave her daughter a resigned stare. ‘And did you?’
‘Did I what?’
‘Ask me if I wanted coffee?’
Emma hung her head. ‘I forgot.’
‘Well, I do, so scoot. And don’t come back. I’ll come when I’m dressed.’
Emma’s mouth tilted at the comers. ‘You’re not cross, are you?’
‘Of course not. Run along. I’ve got to get dressed.’
‘All right.’ Emma skipped to the door. Then she stopped hesitantly. ‘You do like it here, don’t you, Mummy? I mean – you like Uncle Robert and Grandma and – and everyone?’
‘How could I not?’ exclaimed Julie impatiently. ‘Go on, stop worrying, everything’s fine.’
It wasn’t until Julie was pulling on close-fitting corded pants in a rather attractive shade of purple that she paused to wonder why Emma should have asked her such a strange question. Then she shrugged and went on dressing. No doubt the child was sensitive to atmosphere, and there had been plenty of that in Robert’s car yesterday.
She put on a fine wool cream sweater with the pants, leaving her throat to rise smoothly from the open neckline. Her hair hung silkily about her shoulders, and the only make-up she used was a faint eye-shadow and a colourless lustre for her lips.
When she was satisfied with her appearance, she left her room and walked determinedly along the hall to the lounge. The hall, now she had time to notice it, was wide and attractive, papered in gold damask with several examples of French Impressionist painting lining the walls. The carpet was blue and gold, and there was a gilt-edged occasional table and two chairs to match beside it.
The double doors which led into the lounge were at the end of the hall near the single panelled door which opened into the lobby they had entered the previous afternoon.
Summoning all her courage, she pressed open the lounge doors and entered the room, closing them behind her. Unlike the night before, it was not deserted now. Emma and her grandmother were seated on a low couch near the windows, looking at a picture book from which Lucy was reading a story, while Halbird was busily dusting the bookshelves which flanked the hi-fi equipment at the far end of the room. He looked up as she came in, and his smile made up for Lucy’s apparent ignorance of her presence.
‘Good morning, Mrs. Pemberton,’ he said, stopping what he was doing. ‘If you’ll come through to the dining-room, I’ve prepared a little something for you.’
‘Oh – oh, you shouldn’t have bothered.’ Julie glanced doubtfully at her mother-in-law and Emma, and this time they both looked up.
‘Grandma’s reading me a story,’ said Emma innocently.
‘Good morning, Julie.’ Lucy’s greeting was less than cordial. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Thank you, yes.’ Julie glanced at Halbird, who was standing waiting for her. ‘Excuse me, I’ll just go and have some coffee.’
Lucy returned her attention to the book for a moment and then looked up again. ‘I thought we might go shopping this afternoon,’ she said with reluctance. ‘This child is hopelessly ill equipped for a winter in England.’
Julie stiffened. ‘Most of Emma’s clothes are in the trunks coming by sea—’
‘I know that. The trunks have already arrived.’
‘Where are they, then?’ Julie looked bewildered.
‘They’re at the house, of course,’ replied Lucy. ‘There was no point in bringing them here, was there? You won’t be staying here that long.’
Julie felt exasperated. ‘But I can’t possibly manage more than a couple of days with what I’ve brought with me.’
Lucy shrugged indifferently. ‘You can always buy a few things for yourself.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I doubt very much whether the clothes you wore in Malaya will be particularly useful here. Apart from the change of climate, you’ll be expected to dress fashionably. And as Michael’s widow …’ She dabbed her eyes suddenly, and Julie turned away.
She couldn’t bear to say anything more. She didn’t trust herself to do so. Not without causing another row. Emma was looking from one to the other of them with evident concern, and besides, this was neither the time nor the place to discuss Michael.
Instead, she followed Halbird through the door he indicated and found herself in a large, well lit dining-room. The dining-table was long and highly polished, and a single place had been laid at one end for her. There was coffee, and warm rolls, toast and marmalade, and scrambled eggs keeping warm over a burner. Julie felt a ridiculous prick of tears at Halbird’s thoughtfulness.
Turning to him, she exclaimed helplessly: ‘This wasn’t necessary, you know.’
The man smiled. ‘You had no dinner last evening,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m sure you must be hungry. Everything looks so much better if the stomach’s not crying out for sustenance.’
Julie glanced at him sharply, but his expression was benign. All the same, she sensed Halbird’s sympathy, and was unreasonably glad of it. It was reassuring to know that one person at least did not resent her being here.
And, in fact, she made a good breakfast. Despite the emotional state of her nerves she was hungry, she found, and after a plate of scrambled eggs, some toast and marmalade, and several cups of strong black coffee she did indeed feel more ready to face the world in general and the Pemberton’s in particular.
She was chatting to Halbird about the changes she had seen the day before in London when Robert came in. This morning he was wearing dark green suede pants and a matching shirt in a slightly lighter shade together with a dark brown leather waistcoat that hung loosely from his shoulders. He looked big and powerful and disturbing, and Julie had to steel herself not to stare at him.
‘Well?’ he said abruptly, interrupting their conversation. ‘Are you ready?’
Julie looked up then. ‘Ready?’ She raised her dark eyebrows. ‘Ready for what?’
Robert glanced meaningfully at Halbird, and the manservant nodded politely and left the room, returning to the lounge to finish his dusting, Julie supposed.
‘Didn’t Emma advise you of the arrangements?’ Robert was distant.
Julie sighed and rose to her feet, smoothing down the cream sweater over her slim hips. ‘Not really. She said something about you and her going to see the new house.’
‘Precisely.’ Robert surveyed her intently. ‘Naturally you’ll want to see your new home, too.’
‘Oh, thank you. That was thoughtful.’ The sarcasm was audible in Julie’s voice.
Robert uttered an expletive. ‘For God’s sake, Julie, we can’t go on like this. Look – can’t we at least behave civilly in front of Emma? I’m getting a bit sick of this constant bickering.’
‘So am I!’ Julie flared.
‘Well, then.’
Julie shook her head. ‘It’s easy for you, isn’t it? You’re having everything your own way, aren’t you?’
Robert let his breath out on a heavy sigh. ‘Oh, stop it, Julie!’ He ran a hand over his hair impatiently. ‘What do you want me to say? I’m doing my best to be tolerant—’
‘Tolerant!’ Julie was indignant. ‘What have you to be tolerant of?’
‘You!’ he snapped shortly. ‘Do you think given the choice, I would have accepted this situation?’
Julie held up her head. ‘It’s what your mother wanted.’
‘But not what I wanted!’ Robert’s voice was harsh. ‘Believe me, Julie, I prayed I’d never have to see you again!’
Julie felt the hot colour
bum up her throat and into her face. ‘I – I bet you did,’ she faltered unconvincingly.
‘Oh, Julie!’ There was an agonized kind of exasperation in his voice now. ‘This is getting us nowhere. Look, what’s past is past. We’ve both got to accept that, haven’t we? And Michael chose that you and Emma should be put into my care – let’s at least try and remember that.’
Julie bent her head. ‘How could I forget it?’ she whispered tremulously.
Robert made a helpless gesture, and then moving closer put his hand on her shoulder as if to show that he understood the grief she was feeling. But Julie flinched away from his touch as though his cool flesh had burned her, and his jaw tightened angrily before he flung himself away from her and through the door into the lounge.
Julie stood where he had left her, trembling violently. His solicitude had been so unexpected, and she would not have believed it could have such a profound effect on her. She had expected to feel a kind of painful nostalgia at seeing Robert again, but nothing she had imagined had prepared her for this instant emotionalism whenever he came near her, and when he had touched her, her flesh had melted beneath his fingers exactly as it had used to do.
She pressed the palms of her hands to her burning cheeks. This was crazy. She wasn’t an impressionable teenager any longer. She was a woman, a woman of twenty-six, who had been married for almost six years. How could she react so intensely to such an indifferent gesture? Where was the control she had always prided herself on possessing? Whatever must he have thought of her?
Suddenly the door to the lounge opened and Emma appeared, her expression changing to one of concern as she took in Julie’s obvious distress. ‘What’s the matter, Mummy? Are you crying about Daddy again?’
Emma’s words sobered her. ‘I’m not crying, darling. I – I got something in my eye, that’s all.’
Emma frowned for a moment, and then seemed to accept the explanation. ‘We’re waiting for you,’ she said. ‘Are you coming?’
Julie realized that Emma was now wearing the red anorak she had brought with her from Rhatoon, and was obviously ready to go out. Nodding, she followed Emma back into the lounge to find Robert in conversation with his mother. He had put on a sheepskin jacket which added to his height and bulk, and he glanced round impatiently when he saw Julie was still not ready.