He signalled the waiter for the bill. 'Where to now?’ he asked.
She looked at her watch. It isn't worth while going back to the flat. I might as well stroll around in the fresh air and do some window shopping.'
'Every woman's favourite occupation! Where shall it be - Bond Street or Regent Street?’
Uncertain whether he meant to accompany her, she hesitated, and he decided for her.
'Let's make it Bond Street,' he said, and led her out of the hotel
It gave Melanie a strange feeling to walk along the pavement beside him. Somehow it seemed much more intimate than when she had dined with him at her mother-in-law's house. Perhaps that was because their previous meetings had been forced on him, whereas this one had been of his own making.
'Is there anything you like here?' he asked, bringing her to a stop outside the window of a jewellery shop.
She gazed at the display and nodded. 'There certainly is.'
'I thought so.' He stared at the elaborate ruby and sapphire bracelet given pride of place in the centre of the window. Personally I think emeralds would be more flattering for your eyes.'
She looked at him puzzled, then suddenly laughed. 'Good heavens, I wasn't looking at that thing. No one would possibly want that except as an investment !'
'Then what's your choice - the diamond necklace?'
'Too showy.' She pointed to an unusual baroque gold bracelet in the corner. That's much more my style. I'm not very tall, but that type of jewellery suits me.’ That's the cheapest thing in the window.’ Then I'm lucky I haven't got expensive tastes I' Too late she remembered the jewellery Timothy had given her, but if Gregory remembered it too he gave no sign, and they continued to walk. Most of the shops had already closed and people were hurrying home. Quite a few of the girls gave Gregory an appraising look and Melanie could not help a feeling of pride in his tallness and strength.
Once more he stopped, this time outside an art gallery. Only one picture was on display: a pastel study of a ballet dancer. Is that your taste too?' he asked.
'Certainly not. If that girl tried an entrechat she'd fall flat on her face I Just look at her legs! I do wish painters would study their subjects.'
This little sketch costs more than you earn in a year,' he said dryly. 'It's the sort of thing that fits ideally into a stockbroker's drawing-room!'
'I'd rather have my Degas prints. At least he knew what dancers looked like.'
He shrugged. '
I'd rather have nothing on my walls than a reproduction. I'm afraid I'm a purist.’
The words chilled her, emphasizing their difference in standards and outlook and making her realize more than ever how unbridgeable these differences were.
'I'm sure you don't have bare walls,' she retorted. 'You'd be surprised how quickly you'd change your ideas about repros if you couldn't afford the real thing.’
He was quick to sense the hurt in her reply. 'I suppose you think I'm pompous?’
‘Yes, I do. Pompous and stupid.'
‘Because I hate anything tawdry and cheap?'
'Expensive things can be nasty too!'
There was an unusual twinkle in his eyes. 'You are sharp this afternoon.'
'I'm sorry.'
'Don't apologize. I like it.'
He took her arm to cross the street and she felt a stab of quick, unexpected joy at his touch. It was something she had never known before, not even with Timothy.
Timothy… She had loved him with the painful intensity of a schoolgirl, and not until she had experienced sorrow and bitterness had she changed from a child into a woman. She glanced at Gregory. Surely he wouldn't have asked her to have tea with him unless he had really wanted to be with her? He was not the sort of man to waste his time with someone he did not like. The thought filled her with joy, dispelling her earlier despondency and making her give a little laugh of pine happiness.
‘What's the joke?' he asked.
'Everything and nothing!' She turned. 'I just feel it's good to be alive.'
He grinned at her, looking years younger. 'I'm beginning to think so myself.'
They laughed again, and at that moment a taxi swept past them and turned into Maddox Street. It was moving fast, but Melanie was almost certain Lydia Fenwick had been the occupant, certain too that the beautiful face had twisted with temper as she had seen them.
She pushed the thought of Lydia away, determined not to let anything spoil these wonderful moments as they slowly strolled the length of Bond Street. But as they reached the top Gregory glanced at his watch and gave an exclamation. 'Good lord, I'd no idea it was so late. I'm meeting someone at my club.'
'Is it far?'
'A few minutes' drive. I'll get you a taxi and—'
'Don't bother,' she said quickly. It's the rush hour and it's difficult. I'll go by tube.'
He looked at her doubtfully. 'Are you sure?’
She nodded, hoping he would ignore her gesture. But to her chagrin he accepted it with alacrity and, with a preoccupied smile - as though he were already mentally keeping his rendezvous - he hurried away.
It was not until he had disappeared from sight that she re- illzed he had said nothing about seeing her again, and the joy that had filled her ebbed away, leaving her as desolate as she had been before their meeting. How stupid she was to have believed that this afternoon might have presaged the beginning of a new relationship between them. Gregory had merely been polite, using their casual encounter as a chance to say thank you for the evening of pleasure she had given him at the ballet.
It was not until later that night, when the applause of the audience had helped to ease her bruised feelings, that she was able to come to terms with her disappointment, seeing her encounter with Gregory as a sign that he at least no longer hated her! Perhaps in time he might even come to like her; to think further than that was unwise.
She ran down the corridor to her dressing-room and was just lit the door when one of the callboys came up to her and handed her a small parcel.
'For you,' he said brightly. ‘From the Rajah of Ping Pong!'
Laughing, she took the package and turned it over. There was no name on it other than her own and, puzzled, she went into her room, perched on a chair and undid the wrapping to disclose a little leather box. Quickly she lifted the lid, giving a gasp of pleasure and astonishment as she saw the baroque gold bracelet which she had admired earlier that day.
Happiness went to her head like wine and she jumped to her feet and danced round the room. Then, heedless of the fact that she only had a few moments in which to change into her next costume, she ran to the stage doorkeeper's small office and searched in the telephone book until she found Gregory's number. With shaking hands she dialled it, waiting nervously till she heard the ringing stop and then Gregory's deep voice. She was filled with such an intensity of longing for him that it was a few seconds before she could speak, and when she finally managed to do so, all she could blurt out was a gasping 'Thank you.'
'So you got it?' he said in reply.
'Just now. It was such a surprise. I never thought - I never expected…'
'That's why I left you so abruptly before,' he answered.
'You mean you didn't have an appointment?’
'No. I just wanted to get back to that jeweller's shop before it closed. Do you really like it, Melanie?'
'I adore it.' Out of the corner of her eye she saw the callboy beckoning her. 'I can't talk any more. I'm on stage in a minute.'
'Then I won't keep you. But if you're free I'll pick you up afterwards and take you out to supper.'
Tonight?'
‘Yes. Just a quiet meal somewhere. If you'd like to come, of I course.'
'I'd love to come,' she gasped, throwing discretion to the winds.
‘What time shall I make it?'
'I'm only on in this first act and I'll change straight afterwards.'
‘Will an hour give you enough time?'
'Plenty,' she replied, and replaced the
receiver with trembling hands.
It was not until she had done so that she remembered she had nothing to wear except the white dress in which he had seen her that afternoon, and she picked up the telephone to call him back. If he collected her at the flat half an hour later than they had agreed, she would have time to go home and change. But even as she dialled his number, she stopped. Somehow it smacked too much of the obvious if she told him this; might make it appear as though she were reading too much in his offer to take her out. After all, he had said they would just have a quiet meal somewhere, and if she told him she wanted to go home and change first, he might think she was asking to be taken out more elaborately.
She clattered the receiver back into place and ran back to her dressing-room to have a final look at her make-up. If only there were not so many undercurrents to mar her relationship with Gregory, so many bitter accusations that she could remember him hurling at her. It was making her too sensitive to him, too afraid to behave normally. Yet behave normally she must. For if their evening was awkward or embarrassing together it would be a disaster he would be unlikely to repeat.
At exactly ten o'clock she left the theatre and found him waiting for her at the stage door, a position which, in her wildest dreams, she had never imagined him occupying.
He must have felt the incongruity of it too, for he gave a faint smile as he spoke. 'I feel I should be wearing an opera cloak and carrying a bouquet of roses!'
That sort of stage door johnnie went out with King Edward!' she laughed, and held up her arm for him to see she was wearing the bracelet It's beautiful, Gregory, but I don't feel I should have accepted It.'
‘Why not? You accepted things from Timothy.'
The words hit her with such force that she stopped walking, but he was half-way to the car before he realized it and turned to look at her. The light from a street lamp shone directly on her head, turning her hair into a black cloud and heightening the anguish on her face.
With an exclamation, he strode back to her side. I'm sorry, Melanie, I don't know what made me say that.'
'I do,' she said in a cold, tight voice. ‘No matter how much you might pretend - try to forget what you know - you keep remembering the past'
'I'm sorry,' he repeated.
She continued to speak as though she had not heard him. I was already engaged to Timothy before I accepted anything from him - and even then I never asked him for presents. Never!'
Gregory caught her hand In a tight grasp and almost pulled her over to the car. But not until he was seated beside her did he speak, his voice vehement and determined. ‘You've got to forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I only meant that as you had accepted things from one man I didn't see why you couldn't accept things from another.'
‘I don't accept things from men!' she said angrily. I was Timothy's fiancée. Can't you see the difference?'
'Of course I can.'
Gregory rubbed his hand across his forehead and even though she was still furious with him she was aware of being surprised to see that his hand was shaking.
‘I wish I could make you understand what I mean, Melanie.' His voice was low and so jerky that she had to concentrate in order to hear him. 'Everything I say to you seems to have a double meaning - makes you think I'm trying to hurt you. But I'm not. I never want to hurt you.' He turned and faced her directly. 'I was waiting outside the stage door tonight for nearly an hour, and all the time I was remembering the things I'd said to you when we first met.'
'I was thinking about them too.'
'I'm not surprised.' He put his hand on her arm. 'If there was any way I could unsay those words - if I could turn back the clock so that we could start again… What I'm trying to say it that no matter what Timothy did or how extravagant he was, I'm certain in my own mind that you had nothing to do with it.'
It was an admission she had never expected to hear from him, and if anger had made her speechless before, happiness now had the same effect.
'Do you believe me?’ he asked anxiously.
'Yes,' she said slowly. 'And I'm glad you said it. All I ever wanted was Timothy. At least the Timothy I thought he, was.'
'Don't judge him too harshly,' Gregory said. 'Because he I sold his shares doesn't—
‘I wasn't only thinking of the shares.' She spoke without thinking, and only when she saw his look of puzzlement did she realize her stupidity. Happiness at being with Gregory had made her forget that there were still many things he did not know of her relationship with his cousin.
'You speak as though Timothy hurt you,' Gregory said.
'I think we - I think we hurt each other.' She paused, longing to tell him the truth, yet still held back by loyalty.
As though aware she did not intend to say any more, Gregory set the car in motion, but he did not speak until they were driving along the Strand. I know you didn't have time to go home and change, so I'm taking you to a little place in Soho. It's quiet and simple, but I can guarantee you'll enjoy the food.'
It was not until they were sipping their coffee after a superb meal served on plain white china with a minimum of fuss that he told her he had seen Herbert Fenwick the day before.
'He's determined to bring in automation, and I'm not sure how much longer I can make him hold off.'
'He can't!' Melanie exclaimed. 'It would kill Mrs. Ransome if she found out Timothy had…
Gregory pushed aside his cup. 'It's taken all my efforts to get him to do nothing for the past three months. I don't see how I can keep stopping him.' Seeing her pinched face, he sighed. 'I'm sorry, Melanie. I shouldn't burden you with my problems.' 'It's my problem too. After all, I'm responsible.’
'For Timothy's selling the shares?' There was an unfathomable expression in Gregory's eyes. 'You can't take the blame for that. Timothy was always short of money, always trying to borrow from me or his friends. If he hadn't had you as a reason there would have been something else.'
Seeing this as another apology for his earlier remarks to her, she sat quietly, and after a moment he gave another deep sigh. It's this Fenwick business that's really worrying me.'
'Is there anything I can do to help?’
He shook his head. This is one problem only I can deal with.'
‘I should imagine you like to deal with all your problems yourself.'
'I've never had anyone with whom I'd want to share them - even if I could.' He was looking down at the tablecloth as he spoke and she noticed how thick his lashes were and knew an intense desire to cradle his head against her breast.
'I suppose I've been luckier than you,' she said softly.
‘Why? You were orphaned young too, weren't you?'
‘Yes. But I was adopted by the whole company and there was never any shortage of listeners I My problem was the opposite, in fact! Every one was too interested in what I did and thought!'
He laughed and the mood of sadness vanished, so that when he spoke again it was to question her about her work and the way she prepared for each role.
It was inevitable that in answering him, Anton's name kept recurring, but Gregory gave no sign of any particular feeling, and after a few moments she was able to talk without any artifice, telling him exactly how the company rehearsed and how the choreography was planned. Indeed, it was some while before she stopped hastily, afraid that she had lost his attention by being too technical.
It's so difficult to explain ballet in simple terms,' she apologized. 'I'm sorry if I've bored you.'
'I never allow myself to be bored! As a matter of fact I'm finding it very interesting.'
‘You'll be turning into a ballet fanatic if you're not careful,' she laughed.
'Not of the ballet,' he grinned, 'more likely of you!'
She blushed, but he went on sipping his coffee and she forced herself to see his words as a meaningless compliment with no hidden significance.
It was well past midnight when they left the restaurant and drove silently through the lamplit streets. The car purred to a stop
outside the shabby house in Bayswater and she put her hand on the car door.
'It's been a lovely evening, Gregory. Thank you.’
'I hope you'll let me repeat it’
'Any time,' she whispered, and ran quickly from the car.
It was only as she closed the front door and stood leaning against it while she listened to the sound of his departing engine that she realized he had fixed no time or place for another meeting. But this time there was no fear in her heart, for she was certain she would see him again soon.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The rest of the week passed without a word from him, and the week-end came with its quiet Sunday, that gave her too much time to think. She made an effort to push him from her mind and forced herself to walk across Hyde Park, but the expanse of green grass made her wonder if Gregory had gone down to his home in the country, made her wonder too if he was spending the week-end alone or perhaps with Lydia Fenwick. She dug her hands more deeply into the pockets of her jacket and walked quicker, but she could not walk away from her thoughts, and they accompanied her back to the fiat and filled her mind for the rest of the evening.
It was a relief when Monday came and she could occupy herself with work again. That night she and Anton were once more dancing his one-act ballet, and the ovation she received from the audience afterwards was a forcible reminder that even though she did not possess the man she loved, she was lucky to have such an absorbing compensation.
But applause did not last for ever, and alone in her dressing- room she changed despondently Into her outdoor things. Usually she waited to return home with Verenskaya, but tonight she could not face the post-mortem on the performance that would inevitably comprise their conversation, and she slipped into her coat and decided to go home by herself. The corridor leading to the exit was empty and she walked slowly down its length, waved goodnight to the stage doorkeeper and walked outside. A chill breeze had sprung up and she pulled her coat more tightly round her and shivered.
‘You really should have a fur,' a deep voice said.
Roberta Leigh - My Hearts a Dancer Page 12