She knew it wasn't true that she was frightened of life, and nor was it in her nature to say no all the time. It was simply that she knew she would never be happy to be an also-ran. She had to give her singing career all she'd got. What she hadn't realised was how great the self-sacrifice was going to be.
She wanted to give her heart to Elliot, but how could she, when she knew an affair with him would turn her life upside-down? For her it would have to be a serious commitment, something neither of them in their different ways wanted.
And now, wasn't she trapped in that decision— knowing what he thought about her other self? He had rejected the goody-goody Rachel, and he had revealed his short-term interest in Zia too.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rachel was in the stock-room when she heard the door open, and a familiar voice said, 'I saw lover-boy at the Manhattan last night. I think he's two-timing you, Rachel.' The soft tones caressed her while dropping poison in her ear.
She couldn't help but smile when she turned. 'Why do you think I care, Elliot? It was probably his wife. And why not? I told you, he's nothing to me. If you're trying to hurt me I'm afraid you've failed.'
'Hurt?' For a moment he looked stunned. 'That was the last thing on my mind. I thought I was saving you from hurt. It's a relief to know you're not involved with him after all... I couldn't help thinking there must be somebody in the background with a hold over you. I'm glad it's not him.'
Her eyes softened. A heartbeat went by during which there seemed to be no barriers between them. Then inevitably he remembered her rejection and she saw them come back up again. .
'Excuse me, for a moment I forgot you didn't believe in relationships,' he said in stilted tones. 'It's an impossible thought to get one's head around.' He flipped the pen he'd been using into his top pocket and snapped shut the file he was resting on the stock-room counter.
'Where's Lulu?' he asked. 'I want to go over these with her.' He tapped a sheaf of notes. He seemed to be poking his nose into every aspect of the store and Rachel couldn't quench her admiration for his ability to get things done. She wondered what he would move on to once he'd got the store organised the way he wanted it. One thing was for sure, she wouldn't be here to find out. Her last day was looming ever closer.
She went to find Lulu for him.
Ray was looking rather downcast when she went in that night. He was slumped behind his desk as she popped her head round the door to say hello in as cheery a voice as she could muster before she went to change. But when she saw his face she stopped.
'Ray, what is it?' she asked in consternation.
'Oh, it's nothing, love.'
She noticed the whisky glass on the desk beside him. It was unlike him to take a drink except out of politeness to his guests. Even then he was known to nurse the same small Scotch all night. She came right inside. 'Can I get you anything? An aspirin or something?' she asked.
He looked up with a bemused smile. 'Aspirin won't help. It's my wife, love. She had a heart attack this afternoon. Not a big one, but enough to scare the pants off me.' He sighed. 'I was just thinking I ought to take her away somewhere relaxing. She's had enough of London.' He looked up. 'Don't worry. I'm still in shock. The doctors assure me she's going to be all right.'
Rachel went into her dressing-room when she realised there was nothing she could do and later on she saw Ray apparently back on form entertaining some customers in his usual urbane manner.
Her performance and the applause that followed seemed almost routine now. So too did the twenty minutes or so she spent afterwards with Henry. He seemed quite content to let the relationship remain as it was, perhaps deflected from further ambition by Zia's manner, perhaps because it was enough to be seen with her, the envy of every man in the club, so Ray said.
Elliot was there again, as if he couldn't keep away. She noticed him as soon as he arrived and when she found herself lingering at Henry's table she wondered if it was because of the perverse pain it brought her, to find herself so close to, though in reality so far from, Elliot's side. His presence was like something touching her all over, and she wondered why nobody else seemed to be aware of it. He was with the same woman she had seen before, the so-called business colleague. They were chatting casually, and even jealousy couldn't make Rachel see them as anything but the old friends he'd said they were.
He hadn't approached her in her guise as Zia since handing her his card and she wondered what would happen if she took him up on his offer... apart from having her true identity revealed, of course. When he caught her watching him he raised his glass in a toast, but made no further attempt to seek her out.
Thursdays were usually the day she redid the windows ready for the weekend, and Rachel came prepared to get on as usual even though it was her last day. But Lulu had already arrived and there was a new girl with her.
'Meet your successor. Sharon, this is Rachel, whose place you'll be taking.' After they had chatted for a few minutes and Lulu had given Sharon a window to dress she said, 'Come on, Rachel. I'm sure Sharon doesn't want us breathing down her neck on her first morning. Let's go and have a coffee in the crush bar and tie up a few loose ends.'
Feeling slightly guilty at having a break before she had had chance to do any work, Rachel followed Lulu up to the third floor.
The loose ends, so called, were disposed of in a few minutes, then Rachel realised Lulu had something else on her mind. 'So how are things in the rest of your life?' she began, fingering the rim of her coffee-cup. 'You're putting on a brave enough face but I feel I know you well enough by now to guess something's wrong.'
'What on earth could be wrong?' flared Rachel, then, as she saw Lulu's sympathetic expression, her anger subsided at once. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered. 'You're quite right, you know you are. I should have realised I couldn't get anything past you!'
'It's him, isn't it? Elliot?' Lulu frowned. 'I know everybody gossips about him, but he's not the rake he's made out to be. He's just a friendly guy doing his job, that's all, and sometimes people take him more seriously than he intends.'
'Do they?'
'Not you. I don't mean you. You're the one he seeks out, Rachel. I think he's genuinely interested in you. But you seem to distrust him. I can't understand why.'
'Maybe there's nothing to understand --'
'And it's none of my business anyway. I'm sorry, love.' She looked thoughtful. 'It's just that it helps to talk to somebody sometimes, and I know you haven't been in town long enough to build up a circle of friends you can unburden yourself to.'
'It's not my style to unburden myself,' Rachel replied abruptly. Tears were beginning to crowd behind her eyes, but she fought them back. 'It's really quite simple, Lulu. I want to be a top singer. I'm going to be. Nobody's going to get in my way. It doesn't leave time for heavy relationships. And if you tell me people need people, like Ros, I shall scream.'
'And what else?' asked Lulu, staring her full in the face.
'What do you mean, what else?'
'Your mind tells you one thing, but where Elliot's concerned, your heart tells you another... is that it?'
'I wish you'd go away and leave me in peace,' muttered Rachel, turning away. As Lulu bit her lip Rachel regretted having to rebuff her. 'He doesn't want Rachel because she's a prude and not into casual affairs,' she blurted out, 'but what he doesn't yet know is that I'm also Zia.' Then she told her how he had apparently failed to guess the secret of her double identity—and what he had then said about Zia.
'But how can you be sure he doesn't know who you are?' asked Lulu, when Rachel finished.
'Because surely he would have said something by now?'
'I think he said enough if he said what you said he said about Zia!' remarked Lulu, somewhat tortuously.
'Obviously he meant it, because he hasn't tried to chat her—I mean me—up since then,' said Rachel. She had been unable to bring herself to mention the actual kiss—any of the kisses—but it hadn't altered the gist of what she'd confessed.
'My advice
, for what it's worth,' said Lulu slowly after a pause, 'is to take him up on the offer of a date. Go to the opera with him or something, for heaven's sake.' She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. 'Go as Zia. Prove to him she isn't the shallow creature he seems to imagine. Then admit your true identity. You can have it both ways—the taste and discrimination of Rachel, the voluptuousness of Zia...' She sat back in triumph.
Rachel shook her head. 'You don't understand. You're treating it all as a game.'
'I'm not.' Lulu puckered her brow. 'But I do know you couldn't sing the blues the way you do if your heart weren't breaking. And I'm suggesting a way out.'
Still Rachel shook her head. She felt there was only one sure, safe thing to hold on to in the storm that had swept into her life ever since Elliot had come into it. 'I'm a singer,' she whispered. 'I have to hang on to that thought because after Elliot finishes with me I would have less than nothing.'
'Why should he finish with you?'
'We've been over this,' she replied wearily. 'Because he doesn't take love seriously. Look at the way he's sending Zia all those flowers.'
Lulu drew a circle in spilled sugar grains on the formica table-top. 'I have a theory about that. I think it's subliminal.'
Rachel frowned.
'I mean, I think he has a subliminal recognition that you're really Rachel. It's just that it hasn't yet emerged into his conscious mind.'
Rachel almost smiled. 'I must say, Lulu, you don't give up easily.'
'And you're probably one of the most stubborn creatures I've ever met. The guy's obviously mad for you.' She got up. 'Still, if you don't want him that's your decision.' She glanced over Rachel's shoulder. 'You can explain it all in person, anyway, 'cos here he comes!' With a little smile she picked up her bag and left.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Startled, Rachel looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, Elliot himself was sauntering from behind the service counter towards them. He came directly over and Lulu gave him a brief greeting as she went out.
Rachel tried to avoid his glance but he sat down in the newly vacated chair opposite. 'So,' he began, 'have you rethought your decision to leave?'
When she shook her head, he went on, 'Got anything exciting lined up?' He eyed her beetroot face with interest.
She tried to avert her head and mumbled something like, 'Maybe.'
'You mean you're still doing the rounds of interviews?' He narrowed his glance. 'You're not running away from here merely to become unemployed, are you, Rachel?'
She shook her head, relieved to feel the hot blush begin to recede from her cheeks. 'I shall be all right,' she replied shortly. She made as if to get up but Elliot put out a restraining hand.
'Stay. There's no need to go dashing off.'
'I really ought to get back and see how Lulu's coping with the new girl,' she said.
'Very well, I imagine, knowing Lulu. Soon it'll no longer be your concern, will it?'
'I suppose not --'
'In fact, nothing to do with this store is going to be your concern, is it?'
'No—I --'
'Nothing?'
She blinked.
'I said, nothing, Rachel?'
'I --' She bit her lip. 'I don't know what you're getting at.'
'You know damn well I shall miss seeing you around,' he growled. 'At least during working hours I've always known where I could locate you—I nearly said "lay my hands on you" but that wouldn't be quite correct, would it?'
Remembering the way he had 'laid his hands' on her previously, she blushed again.
'You look so sweet. Blushing. Innocent... Too good to be true,' he added thoughtfully. 'I'm not going to let you just walk away...' He reached out and clasped his hand over hers where it lay on the table. 'It's fortunate I caught sight of you in here. I was just on my way down to find you. I have some business to attend to and I'd like you to come with me.'
'Business?'
'That makes it all right, doesn't it? One of the directors asking you for assistance?'
'But --'
'You can hardly refuse. I am your employer and I'm paying for your time until six o'clock this evening.'
'Eight,' she said. 'It's late-night closing again.'
He banged the side of his hand. 'Better still. Come on. Get your coat. Let's go.'
'My coat?' She was already standing up.
'It may be chilly. Be quick. I'll be waiting at the staff entrance.'
Wondering if they were going far, Rachel did as he asked, popping her head in to tell Lulu what she was doing on her way out. Her feelings were in tumult again—wanting to be with Elliot and yet frightened of what it might lead to as well. When she reached the glass entrance doors she could see him already waiting on the other side. For a moment her heart lurched with love. He looked so cool, so tough and decisive, yet there was a vulnerable air about him too, something that made her want to reach out and hold him in her arms. She was beginning to suspect she had hurt his feelings, that underneath the humorous exterior was a vulnerable man. Or maybe it was just his pride that was hurt, she wondered uncertainly. He turned then and caught sight of her.
A smile spread evenly over his features at once, making his eyes dance. 'Good girl,' he said, 'that was quick.' He tucked her hand into his and led her round the corner into a side-street. The company limousine was waiting, its engine running already. Feeling rather underdressed for such a grand vehicle, Rachel stepped inside.
'I don't suppose you carry your passport with you?' Elliot asked mysteriously, confounding her.
'Well—no --'
'Right, then—direct the driver to your place first,' he commanded. 'I presume it's up to date.'
'Yes, but --'
'Come on, we haven't got all day!' He smiled at her and, feeling bemused, she recited her address. Having run inside and collected the apparently necessary document, she got back in the car and at once the driver set off, conveying them speedily through the West End and towards the Docks. Soon he was driving the car up to the entrance to the City airport.
'But where are we going, Elliot?' Rachel's face was flushed with something other than embarrassment now.
Elliot gave her an enigmatic smile. 'You'll see.'
'But I thought we were simply going to offices in town!' she exclaimed.
'Nothing so dull. It is your last day, after all...' He paused and added thickly, 'It's our last day. OK? Think of it as a day out of time.'
She felt a lump in her throat at the thought that she would never see him again, and couldn't answer.
Mistaking her silence for opposition, he said, 'Don't begrudge me one day, Rachel. I shan't ask anything else of you.'
She gulped and turned away. Her voice was small when she replied, 'Of course I shan't begrudge it. You've got it all wrong.'
He pressed two fingers against her lips. 'Let's make a pact here and now—no soul-searching, nothing heavy, let's simply enjoy what life has to offer and forget tomorrow. Is that agreed?'
She nodded as he let his fingers fall from her lips. That was so like him. To break her heart and not even know it. Live for today. She gave a strangled little laugh. 'For today, then, a day out of time.'
Biting back her feelings, she gave him a brilliant smile as he tucked her hand in his. Zia had taught her how to act—now she would put up her best performance ever. He led her through the departure lounge to a small aircraft on the tarmac. It bore the company logo and she had no need to act as a small gasp of surprise escaped her.
'Up into the wide blue yonder!' He was plainly delighted with her reaction to the private plane and, when they were securely seated, he turned to her, his own face suffused with a glow she had rarely seen.
'I have a very short meeting to attend --' he indicated the briefcase lying in the rack in front of him '—but after that our time's our own.'
'But I have to be back tonight,' she warned, her mind suddenly filled with the ramifications of simply flying off heaven knew where with him.....
'I'l
l qualify that last statement,' he said, allaying her fears at once. 'Our time's our own until eight o'clock. That's when your employment with me comes to an end. Will that suit you?' His eyes were like two chips of blue ice when he saw the doubt in her eyes.
Feeling obscurely guilty, she nodded. 'I'll have to trust you, won't I?' she mumbled, trying to avoid his glance.
'I assure you I can be trusted, contrary to what you seem to imagine, Rachel.' His voice was as cold as his glance. She was sorry she had destroyed that dancing warmth that had appeared only a few seconds ago and slipped her hand in his, unable to tell him that it was herself she couldn't trust, not with the raging desire for him coursing so shamelessly through every fibre of her being.
He carefully removed her hand. 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to read through some notes. You can occupy yourself until we land?'
She bit her lip and turned to look out of the window. She saw the dirty grey of southern England with its pall of cloud give way to the khaki of the open sea. True to his word, Elliot opened some files and at once became immersed.
Rachel tried to tell which way they were flying but now they were crossing a blank stretch of muddy-looking water. Was it the Channel or was it the North Sea? Soon shipping became more numerous and later low-lying sand-banks appeared on the horizon, looking like whales in all that expanse of grey. Eventually they were flying low over a flat coastline and not until she saw the first windmills did she guess where they were.
Elliot was still engrossed in his notes and as the plane started to lose height he snapped his files shut and looked at his watch. 'Schiphol,' he told her. 'We've made excellent time.'
She blinked, in the bright sunlight when they eventually climbed out of the plane. A car was waiting and they were soon being driven through the suburbs of Amsterdam. 'It is Amsterdam, isn't it?' She turned to him, scarcely able to believe this was happening.
'Been here before?'
'Never!' She opened her eyes wide. 'It's like a picture-book. I still can't believe it's real! It's beautiful!'
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