by Lucy Keane
When finally they broke apart, she was shaking. She took a step towards the wall and leaned against it, staring out unseeing over the valley.
Julius moved to stand beside her, close, but not touching. ‘Do you know why I brought you here with me—to Spain?’
She tried unsuccessfully to control her voice. ‘You told me you needed me as a cook—and a secretary.’
His reply sounded impatient. ‘Cook, secretary, yes— but I didn’t have to bring either. There were other ways of arranging it.’ He went on without waiting for her to comment. ‘I wanted to be able to get to know you away from the office, and away from home, where I couldn’t see you as often as I’d have liked. I suppose—’ He paused, as though to find the words. ‘I suppose I wanted to make certain of something I knew already…’
She felt his hand on her shoulder, and he drew her round inexorably to face him, forcing her to meet his eyes. ‘I love you, Amy. I think I’ve loved you since that first afternoon you walked into my office. I love you and I want you.’
It was what she secretly longed to hear, and what she was afraid of. She did her best to sound cold, avoiding his gaze. ‘Just because we don’t seem to be able to control our physical reactions when we get too close, it doesn’t mean to say we love each other! You can’t change your life because of something like that—and you can’t do this to Fiona. It isn’t fair. You don’t really love me— there’s no such thing as love at first sight. We’re just physically attracted to each other…’
His answering sarcasm made her flinch. ‘Do you honestly think I’m such a prey to my lusts I can’t cope with a few days in the company of a pretty secretary?’ He touched the side of her jaw, with hard fingers, turning her face towards him. ‘No, Amy, it’s not that and you know it. I care about you. I want to make you happy— and I want the right to be with you. Always.’
‘But Fiona—’
He interrupted her impatiently. ‘Do you really think I’d be doing this without a thought for Fiona? You must have a very low opinion of me!’
‘It’s not that—’
‘It is that, Amy! Would it really be fair to her to marry her when I love someone else?’
She turned away abruptly to hide the tears in her eyes. Despite his angry impatience, the words had an unmistakable sincerity.
‘Even before I met you there were problems with our relationship. We’re not really suited to each other; we never were.’
‘Then why did you get engaged to her, or she to you if you weren’t suited?’ she demanded desperately.
There was a long silence. Then he said, ‘I can’t go into all the reasons—you’ll just have to trust me—but the situation wasn’t simple when I met Fiona. It seemed to both of us that we had a good enough basis for marriage. She had reasons to be wary of passionate involvements, and I—well, at that time I didn’t think that kind of passion was a very useful guide when it came to choosing a wife. Apart from that, we got on very well socially, and we liked—continue to like each other very much.’ It wasn’t a very satisfactory answer, but his tone warned her not to probe any further.
‘But even if you’ve changed your mind now,’ she protested, ‘it doesn’t mean that she has!’
‘Amy, did you take in anything I said?’ He sounded exasperated.
She ignored him. ‘You’re only two weeks away from marrying her!’
He took a deep breath. ‘My marrying Fiona in two weeks’ time isn’t going to ensure her happiness either; now or in the future, and if it’s any consolation to you I suspect that she has seen that for herself!’ He paused for a second, as though to check himself. And then said more quietly, ‘It’s something I’ll have to sort out when I get home—’
She stared at her fingers, twisting them tightly together, as she rested her hands on the top of the wall. She just had to see this through to the end. She had never imagined it could be so difficult.
‘If you do this Julius, you must do it because it’s the right thing for both of you—not just because you want me instead of her!’
She tried to pull back from him as he put his arms round her, drawing her against him despite her resistance. She held herself stiffly, determined to ignore what the contact was doing to her. To break off his engagement to Fiona because he genuinely believed that they were not suited to each other was very different from breaking off from one woman in order to have another. If he thought Amy herself was ready to fall into his arms, she would never know which was the true reason. There was, she realised, only one sure way to find out.
She had to give him up, utterly. And then wait to see if his marriage plans to Fiona were resumed.
As she felt him draw back from her a little, she glanced up to find him staring down at her.
‘Amy, I have to know,’ he said carefully. ‘I have to hear you say it—do you love me?’
There was a long pause while she looked at him, praying for the composure that would let her convince him. She knew she was going to hurt him.
‘No. I don’t love you,’ she lied.
It was the hardest thing she had ever done.
His eyes searched hers, at first in blank disbelief. Then his expression changed. His look became shuttered, his face set, his mouth a grim line.
They stood facing each other, saying nothing. She had no idea how long they remained like that. It was as though some sort of storm had swept right through her, leaving her empty. She couldn’t even guess at what Julius might be feeling.
CHAPTER NINE
It wasn’t going to last much longer. Surely she could put up with just a couple more weeks for the sake of the money?
Of all the catering jobs she’d ever done, this had to be the least suited to her particular talents—and the most exhausting. But she hadn’t left herself much choice. Walking out of Prior Harding’s like that meant she’d had to take the first job she could find. Acting as cook-cum-housekeeper at a girl’s boarding-school definitely wasn’t her ideal role in life, she thought wearily. Thank goodness she was only an emergency stopgap, and Mrs. Rogers, whose place she was taking, would be back soon. There had been unexpected illness in her family, and because the school had had to find a replacement at such short notice the money was very good. In theory, it was a full month’s employment, which would allow time to look around for something else. In practice, it didn’t seem to be working like that.
Getting up before six to prepare breakfast with two part-time helpers, from the moment she got into those kitchens—very much in need of modernisation—she never seemed to have a second to herself for the rest of the day. No sooner had she finished breakfast than she had to start on lunch. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any time off, it was just that she had to use it to keep up with herself. By half-past eight in the evening she was completely worn out.
Apart from the money, the only advantage to the job was that it gave her very little time to brood over what had happened in Spain, and the end of her relationship with Julius. His image hovered in the background of everything she did, but it was really only in bed at night that she had time to think about him.
They had left Granada early on that last morning. He had been unusually thoughtful, and instead of that curt businesslike tone that had characterised his manner on much of their trip he had been gentle with her in a way that made it all so much harder to bear. She had found afterwards the little orange he had given her in her pocket, and thought of their conversation. ‘Forbidden fruit,’ she had called it. ‘Not forbidden,’ he had said. ‘Only unwise…’ In the circumstances, it had been unwise even to talk about what was happening between them. It would have been better if they could have left the whole thing unexpressed, then she wouldn’t have had to lie to him, and he could have broken off his engagement to Fiona without the decision involving her. She was aware that in her position other women might not have seen her difficulty, but she could only be true to what she felt to be right. She had to be true to herself.
Julius hadn’t appeared in
the office on Monday, and the others had been avid for gossip of the trip. She’d given them endless details of the hotels, the food, the places they’d visited, Julius’s Spanish contacts—all, as far as she was concerned, utterly meaningless now—until Zoe had demanded, ‘But what about Julius? What was it like to spend all that time with him?’
She’d pulled a little face. ‘Just the same as at the office.’ It hadn’t contented them, but it was all she had been prepared to say. She wouldn’t talk about him.
When Dennis had told them that Julius had had to go on another business trip and wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week, Jacquie had looked at her significantly. ‘Gone to see Fiona. It’s less than two weeks until the wedding.’
Amy had had to turn away quickly to hide what she knew would give away far more of what had gone on in Spain than she would ever tell anyone—even Jess.
She hadn’t let Dennis know until the Friday of that week that she wouldn’t be coming back. She’d felt terrible about it, but it wasn’t until that morning that she’d got the offer of another job, and she’d been afraid that the news of her intention might get through to Julius too soon—before she could avoid a confrontation between them.
‘It’s—it’s home problems,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I have a young brother—things are very difficult at the moment.’ Dennis could see that she was upset, and hadn’t prolonged the explanations, despite his obvious dismay. He’d offered to get in a temp if she needed a couple of weeks to sort things out. She had been consumed with guilt. He had been trying to make it as easy for her as possible to resume her job once the mythical ‘home problems’ had sorted themselves out, and what she had really been doing was walking out on him.
She couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye to the others—unlike her employer, they would be sure to demand more satisfactory explanations, and their concern, which she wouldn’t deserve, would be more than she could bear. She had had to get away before Julius came back—and before he had time to do anything about it.
It was Jess who had shown her the advert for the cook-housekeeper when she had first told her of her intention to leave Prior’s. Guessing that there must be a lot more behind the brief story of ‘not getting on with Julius’ that Amy had told her with some reluctance after her return from Spain, Jess had wisely held her tongue. But she’d offered to solve the problems of Charlie and the cat by the simple solution of moving into Number 5 Estate Cottages herself.
‘I’ll look after everything and make sure there isn’t a freeze-up if the weather gets cold. It’s only four weeks, for heaven’s sake. Just promise me you’ll ring every evening to talk to Rasputin. I hate to think of you all by yourself down there in the wilds of the West Country.’
Amy had given a humourless grin. ‘With two hundred schoolgirls to cater for, I’m not going to get much time to be alone, am I?’ she’d pointed out.
Although she hadn’t seen much of the girls themselves, at least half her forecast had proved accurate. She was constantly in the company of the kitchen staff, and even shared her tiny flat with one of the matrons. But she did ring Jess every night, feeling a sort of outcast in her self-imposed exile.
There was no chance of hearing anything from Julius. Both Jess and Charlie had been sworn to secrecy as to her whereabouts. He had to believe she’d gone out of his life for good, although, the way their last conversation had ended, it looked more as though he was the one who had gone out of hers. So it was no use indulging in fantasies in which he rode up on a white horse to tell her they could be happy together forever, and snatched her away from a life of drudgery; he didn’t even know her address.
You’re turning into a weed, Amy Thompson, she’d told herself sharply. But it didn’t have much effect.
She’d spoken to him just once since they’d come back from Spain, on the phone, on the Monday morning she’d left to take up her job at the school. He must have heard of her decision only minutes before by the sound of it.
‘What the hell is this Dennis has just been telling me— you’re not coming back?’ He sounded very angry. She didn’t answer. Her heart was pounding so violently that she felt sick.
‘Come on, Amy, what’s this new problem with Charlie?’ he demanded impatiently. ‘It can’t be so bad a couple of weeks off, if that’s what you want, won’t solve it!’
‘I don’t want a couple of weeks off,’ she said, so low that she wondered if he’d hear her. ‘I’ve left.’ It was awful, just hearing his voice again.
‘Don’t be silly. You can’t afford to—what are you going to do for money?’ A note of concern softened the anger just a little that time.
‘I’ve got another job.’
It was as though she’d just chucked a grenade into the conversation. The silence was explosive. If the receiver had burst into flames in her hand she wouldn’t have been surprised. Then he said, in a voice of tight control which was somehow worse than if he’d shouted at her, ‘You’ve got a perfectly good job here. Why walk out on Dennis when he needs a full-time secretary who knows the ropes?’
‘I’m not just walking out on him!’ she argued with guilty desperation. ‘We discussed it—he understands! I’m sorry… I didn’t want it to cause any trouble. You don’t… you don’t have to pay me—’
‘For heaven’s sake, Amy! This has got nothing to do with the money.’ There was a pause. Then, ‘Is it by any chance because of what happened in Granada?’
She couldn’t answer.
‘Right,’ he said then, coldly. ‘Enjoy your new job, Amy.’
And the line went dead.
She stared at the phone in a sort of shocked helplessness. It was somehow so final. She’d never meant it to happen like that, and never in her life had she felt so desolate.
In her mind ever since she’d been ticking off the dates on a secret calendar, each nearer to the day of Julius’s wedding, until last night when she hadn’t slept at all.
She was in an agony of suspense—she had to find out, had he or hadn’t he married Fiona? If he had, she would have to try to forget him. If he hadn’t—but surely if they’d cancelled the wedding then everybody must have known for days? Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She could have found out if she’d had the nerve to ring Jacquie at the office. Surely all the guests would have been told as soon as possible, and Jacquie, of all people, would have known about it?
She couldn’t bring herself to ring Prior’s, but she thought Jess might have heard something. She had. The wedding hadn’t taken place.
‘How did you find out?’ she demanded, as soon as she could trust herself to say something.
‘Julius has been round here. I’d have told you before, only you said you didn’t want to hear about him. He came to take Charlie out last Sunday.’
‘What about Fiona? Did he say anything about her?’
Jess’s reply was vague. ‘He didn’t really talk about her. Listen, are you still determined not to tell him where you are?’
Amy was adamant. She didn’t want to nourish any false hopes, and anyway, it would be impossible to find a time or place in her present circumstances for the kind of interview she and Julius might have.
‘Oh, well.’ Jess sounded resigned. ‘You’ve only got another couple of weeks and a bit. Let me know when you’ve decided which trains you’re catching, and Mum’ll meet you at the station if I can’t. We’ll celebrate your escape from that place—it sounds awful!’
Two weeks and a bit. It felt like a lifetime.
She tried not to think about Julius on the train journey back to Oxford, but, however far away from him she started off, her thoughts inevitably led back to him. He hadn’t married Fiona. Well, he had told her he wasn’t going to. Perhaps she shouldn’t have run off like that. Perhaps she should have waited quietly to find out what would happen. She should have trusted Julius more. She had made a lot of assumptions about the situation and acted on those, and although she hadn’t thought so at the time she had behaved very impulsively on he
r return from Spain. She still felt bad about leaving Dennis and the others the way she had.
She tried to think about Charlie, and Jess, and fix her thoughts on seeing Celia at the station. It would be like a holiday coming home again after the way she’d been working, even if she did have to go out immediately on another job hunt.
There was no sign of Celia when the train drew into Oxford, but she could have been waiting on the opposite platform, by the station entrance. Amy gathered up her bags, slinging one over her shoulder and carrying the larger of the two. It was just as well she hadn’t taken much luggage with her.
She kept to the back of the crowd of commuters, hoping to spot Celia among the passengers waiting for the next train, but when the crowd began to thin there was still no sign of her. She couldn’t have forgotten the day, could she? Another unlucky mnemonic?
She’d just decided to explore the bookstall to help pass the time when someone she thought she recognised came through the entrance hall, glancing around as she went. It was unmistakably Fiona Harper-Maxwell—she recognised the blonde hair and the confident walk. She looked worried.
A strange feeling went through Amy at the sight of the girl Julius had been going to marry. It was a mixture of familiarity—she suddenly brought Julius himself very close—and wariness. Then Fiona caught sight of her, and instantly came towards her.