So did that mean that she cared about Marcus? Cordelia settled back in her chair and thought about it. She certainly found him fun to be with and he had a magnetic personality that was impossible to resist, and he was so sure of himself, so self-confident. Cordelia hadn't met many men who were so positive, so vigorously masculine before, and it was hardly any wonder that he had made such an impression on her. But to care about him? When she'd only known him for a couple of days? Surely that wasn't possible? It must just be the thrill of meeting and working with someone so famous that had made her feel like this, she decided.
She was still quite sure of this on the long journey home, as she sat in the back of the car and watched the lamps being lit in the houses and tiny shops as the day gave way to dusk. Soon it grew dark and Daya had to drive more slowly, sound his horn even more often to clear the road ahead. The miles seemed to drag by as Cordelia grew more and more impatient to get home to see Marcus, to tell him about her day. She tried to remember things she'd seen that might interest or amuse him, telling herself that she was only eager to tell him because he was a writer and might be able to use them. At last they reached the hill leading down to the bungalow and she saw its welcoming lights shining out across the valley. She sat forward, her heart beating faster than it should, and somehow managed to thank Daya properly before turning to run into the bungalow to find Marcus.
But only Sugin was waiting for her inside, a Sugin who took in her eager face and searching eyes and said cruelly, 'Marcus has gone out. He decided not to wait for you. You will have to eat alone—again.' With a slight but insulting emphasis on the 'again'.
And Cordelia knew then that, even though she had only known him for a short time, she did care. She cared very much.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT was very late. Glancing at her watch, Cordelia saw that it was nearly nine-thirty. It had taken them over four hours to cover the bad, crowded roads from Anuradhapura.
'You have eaten on the way?' Sugin asked her. Cordelia shook her head. 'No, not since lunch.'
'Then I will tell them to cook you something.'
'Please don't bother, I'm quite capable of…'
But the other girl had already gone out into the hall and was shouting something in Sinhalese to the people in the kitchen. After a few moments she came back and said, 'I have told the cook to make you some soup and an omelette. Then he and the others can go home.' She said it as if the whole staff had been kept waiting for hours.
'Thank you,' Cordelia said stiffly. 'I will be ready to eat it in half an hour.' Going into her room, she showered and changed, finding it blissful to be cool and clean again after the hot sweatiness of the long day. Automatically she brushed her hair and put on fresh make-up, although there was no impetus to do so when Marcus wasn't going to be there. She expected Sugin to have gone when she returned to the sitting-room, but the other girl was still there and followed her into the dining-room, calmly seating herself in the place where Marcus usually sat.
'You enjoyed visiting the ancient places in Sri Lanka?' Sugin asked, her tone not in the least interested or friendly.
'Very much, thank you,' Cordelia answered after she had smilingly thanked the servant who brought her soup.
'Where did you go?' Sugin leant her elbows on the table and put a hand under her chin, watching Cordelia intently as she ate.
Briefly Cordelia told her, hating being watched in such a way.
'There are many such places to go to in Sri Lanka. You must see them all. I will give you a list.'
For a moment Cordelia was surprised at the native girl's encouragement, but then realised that it would suit Sugin for her to go out sightseeing all the time because it would keep her away from Marcus, so she just gave a small polite smile and asked, 'Where did you learn to speak English so well? Have you been to England?'
Sugin shook her head proudly. 'It is not necessary to go to a foreign country to learn the language. I learn English at school—I am very good pupil. When I leave school I have job as guide in tea factory. Then I meet Charles Conran and I come here.'
'Charles Conran is the owner of the bungalow?' Cordelia hazarded.
Sugin nodded gracefully, as she did everything gracefully. 'Yes.' She looked at Cordelia through slanted, triumphant eyes. 'And now I am—with Marcus.'
'Oh, yes,' Cordelia agreed with soft venom. 'He told me you came with the bungalow—just like the rest of the furniture.'
She hadn't intended to be spiteful, after all it was none of her business, but the other girl's gloating malevolence had so put her back up that she hadn't been able to stop herself. For a moment the barb didn't sink in, but then Sugin bristled like one of the wild leopards in the game reserves. 'You should not stay here, English girl,' she spat out, 'Marcus does not want you here. You interfere with his work. That is why he gives you the car and tells Daya to keep you out all day. This is why he goes out at night. He does not wish to be here alone with you. You bore him, English girl. He wants you to go to a hotel.'
'He does—or you do?' Cordelia demanded, aware that it was open warfare between them.
'He does! He told me so—many times,' Sugin retorted angrily.
'I don't believe you. I…' Cordelia broke off as the houseboy brought her omelette and took her soup dish away. Somehow it seemed ridiculous to having this kind of argument while she was trying to eat a meal, but to push her plate away would be some sort of victory for Sugin, so she forced herself to go on eating as calmly as she could.
'It is true. He does not want you here,' Sugin insisted. 'Your father can stay because he is a sick, man. But Marcus wishes that you would go.' 'Really? I must ask him, then, mustn't I?'
If Cordelia had hoped to disconcert the other girl, she was disappointed. Sugin merely shrugged and said, 'He is too polite to tell you himself, but me he has told many times. He tells me many things. We have no secrets,' she added, emphasising the words.
Cordelia didn't have to have it spelled out for her; she was fully aware that Sugin must be his mistress. As calmly as she could, she finished her meal and wiped her lips. 'I expect you want to get home. Please don't let me keep you.'
Sugin smiled and shook her head. 'I am not going home tonight. Marcus has asked me to wait for him. So you might as well go to bed, English girl. He does not want you to wait for him again tonight.'
Only Marcus could have told Sugin that she had been up when he got home last night, and Cordelia flushed, wondering for the first time if there had been any truth in the other girl's words. Maybe he really didn't want her around, even though he had assured her that she and her father could stay as long as they needed to.
Seeing that she had scored a hit, Sugin went on, 'Why do you not go home, English girl? There is nothing for you in Sri Lanka.'
Annoyed, Cordelia stood up and retorted sharply, 'On the contrary, I have just as much right to be here as you have.'
'You? What do you mean?'
'I mean that I was born here too. I'm as Sri Lankan as you are.'
Which wasn't strictly true, but at least enabled her to walk out of the room leaving Sugin completely disconcerted.
Out in the hall, Cordelia found that her hands were trembling and she had to get a grip on herself before going across to tap softly on her father's door. He was asleep, so she spent some time sitting with the nurse and chatting quietly. It was the nurse's last night, she told Cordelia, The doctor had come this morning and said that his patient was well enough to leave and that in future a nurse would just come twice a day to help him to bathe and make sure he took his pills and was generally okay. Cordelia passed a pleasant hour with her, finding the woman intelligent and friendly. She also spoke English very well and said that all children were taught it in school as a second language as a matter of course, so it wasn't such a big thing as Sugin made out that she spoke English so fluently.
It was almost midnight when Cordelia finally turned out her light and lay awake in the darkness, listening, and it must have been nearly one
before she heard Marcus come home. She strained her ears, trying to hear him talking to Sugin, but they must have been very quiet, because all she heard was the sound of his door shutting softly. Perhaps Sugin was already in his room, lying naked in his bed, waiting for him to come to her, Cordelia imagined restlessly, and was seized with such a violent fit of jealousy that she could cheerfully have got hold of Sugin and strangled her. But the next second she realised miserably that she was the intruder and that Marcus probably looked on her only as a silly young girl who had thrown herself at his head. Why else would he have told Sugin about last night? Had he even told the other girl that he'd kissed her? Cordelia wondered wretchedly. Had they laughed together about it? Another sound caught her attention and she realised that it was her father's nurse going into the kitchen to make herself a drink. She, too, had been awake late last night and could have heard her talking to Marcus. Maybe it was she who had mentioned it to Sugin. Slightly comforted, Cordelia tried to go to sleep, but her mind was filled with pictures of the two of them together and, even when fatigue overcame her, her dreams, too, were about them milking love, so that she turned and murmured restlessly.
Next morning, she had to use make-up to disguise the dark smudges of tiredness around her eyes. She wasn't looking forward to having to face the two of them, especially knowing that they had spent the night together; she could imagine the way Sugin would look at her with triumph in her dark eyes, the possessive way she would preside over the breakfast table, every movement calculated to emphasise the fact that she was not only Marcus's mistress but also virtually the mistress of his house and that Cordelia was only an unwanted interloper. And Marcus? Would his night of love show in his face, in his manner? Cordelia gripped her hairbrush and bit her lip hard. There was only one way, she decided, that she was going to get through today, and that was by acting as if he really was just her boss, by being brisk and impersonal and definitely not letting him see that she fancied him. Even so, she took as long as she could over getting ready, but she couldn't hang around in her room for ever, so eventually she went out on to the verandah.
To her surprise only Marcus was there, reading a letter from a small pile beside his plate. He stood up as she came out, his eyes running fleetingly over her.
'Good morning. How did you enjoy your sightseeing?'
Acting on her decision, she gave him a bright smile and answered, 'It was very interesting, thank you. Daya was a very good guide. We went to Dambulla and then on to Anuradhapura.'
'What did you think of them?'
Cordelia remembered all the interesting things she had stored up to tell him and resolutely pushed them aside. 'As I said, they were very interesting. Please don't let me stop you if you were reading your mail,' she added, and pointedly looked away to butter a piece of toast.
Marcus smiled lazily. 'Are you the type that prefers to start the morning in peace and quite? Who bury themselves in the morning paper to avoid having to make conversation over the coffee toast?'
Shrugging her shoulders, Cordelia said, 'I don't know, really. I only ever eat breakfast when I'm on holiday; I don't bother with it when I'm at home.'
'Where's home?'
'I share a flat near Baker Street with three other girls.'
'And you work in an office, I think you said?'
'Yes.'
'What do you do in your leisure time?'
She shrugged again. 'We go to discos and the cinema quite a lot—and I'm taking a course of evening classes to learn book-keeping.'
'Very commendable,' Marcus commented on an amused note, then his voice changed as he said, 'No boy-friends?'
Cordelia choked a little over her coffee but managed to cover it with a cough. His eyes settled on her, but she didn't meet them. 'One or two.' She managed to say it offhandedly, then immediately put down her coffee cup and stood up. 'I expect you'd like me to start work now; I still have a lot to do before I catch up with you.'
Without waiting for him to answer, she walked along the verandah and went into the study, where she began to take the cover off the typewriter; the conversation had started to get too personal if she was to be able to stay brisk and businesslike. Marcus followed more slowly. He stood watching her for a moment, then remarked, 'You're very efficient this morning.'
'Am I? Well, there's a lot to do.'
'Is anything the matter?'
She allowed herself a brief glance in his direction. 'No, of course not. Why should there be?' She sat down and pulled his manuscript forward. 'What chapter did you get up to yesterday?'
'Chapter six.'
'Then you're still four ahead of me.'
His hand came down on to her shoulder and she had to stifle a gasp as his touch seemed to burn into her flesh. 'This isn't a race, you know,' he remarked gently:
Cordelia stiffened but didn't look up. Licking lips gone suddenly dry, she managed to say brightly, 'Oh, but I'm eager to read the rest of the book.'
His hand stayed where it was' a moment longer, then he took it away and sat down at his desk. He didn't say anything further; after such a silly remark as hers there probably wasn't anything to say. Cordelia began to type and after a while had to take the sheet out of the machine when he wasn't looking because she'd made so many mistakes.
They worked on through the morning and when Marcus stopped for coffee she didn't take it with him but excused herself and went to see her father. When she came back there was a slightly sardonic curl to his mouth, but Marcus merely asked after the invalid.
'He seems much better, thank you. He's going to get up for a while this afternoon.'
'Good. I'm glad to hear he's making progress.'
Because then we'll be gone the sooner? Cordelia wondered. So that he can be alone with Sugin again. There had been no sign of the other girl this morning, but Cordelia was fully expecting her to put in an appearance at lunchtime and was agreeably surprised when she saw that the table been set for only two. Perhaps Sugin was still recovering from last night, she thought, with a flash of emotion which was as much jealousy as bitchiness. Not that Marcus's face showed any sign of tiredness or dissipation; she studied him covertly as she ate, listening as he talked about the chapter of the book he was working on. Her eyes ran over his aggressively handsome features, the wide breadth of his shoulders, and lingered on the play of the muscles in his bare, tanned arms. She wondered what he would be like in bed.
Almost as if she had said the words aloud, Marcus suddenly fell silent and looked at her. Their eyes met and held and Cordelia felt her face suffuse with colour, so that if there had been any doubt in his mind before about what she was thinking, there was certainly none now. Hastily she looked away and began to eat feverishly. The silence seemed to go on for ever, but at last he began to talk again, picking up from where he had left off. But the amusement in his voice was quite clear. Damn you, Cordelia swore inwardly. Stop laughing at me, damn you! She didn't dare look at him in case she blushed again, and luckily he didn't ask her any questions, just went on talking easily until they had finished and went back to work again.
Somehow she managed to pull herself together and get through the rest of the afternoon and dinner, but gave a sigh of relief when Marcus afterwards went in to sit with her father and she was able to go to her room with a book and not see him any more that night. He had offered her the car again for another sightseeing trip the next day, but the driver had reported that there was a part that needed replacing and had taken it to a garage which promised it back in two days. 'But knowing Sri Lankan garages it could be anything up to two weeks,' Marcus had remarked wryly.
The next two days were better; Cordelia was more in control of herself, had managed to get things back in proportion and was able to keep the hours they were alone together on an impersonal but friendly level, if such a thing were possible. Marcus went along with it, although once or twice she found him watching her with that sardonically amused look on his lean features. After dinner they both went in to sit with James Allingha
m and had a game of gin rummy with him. Cordelia was amazed at the way her father's personality changed when he was with Marcus; he talked far more than, he ever did with her, especially when Marcus drew him out on his years managing the tea plantation, and he even laughed a few times at his own experiences. Perhaps it was that he preferred men's company, Cordelia surmised, and excused herself quite early on the plea of being tired, hoping that he would expand even more without her presence to restrict him.
On the third day they had breakfasted and Cordelia had started work when Marcus stepped briskly into the room, swung her chair round and pulled her to her feet. 'No work today! Contrary to my pessimistic view the car's been repaired as promised and you're taking the day off.'
'Oh, but I was in the middle of…' She went to sit down again, but he kept hold of her wrists and wouldn't let her.
'Oh, no, you don't. You heard me—we're going sightseeing.'
Cordelia stared at him. 'We?'
'Yes. It's Daya's day off, so I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me as your guide.' His eyes tied down into hers. 'Do you mind?'
Her heart began to beat much too fast and her throat was so dry that she stammered as she said, 'N-no, of course not.'
'Good.' He smiled down at her, his mouth slightly more curved one side than the other, which stupidly made her heart give a crazy lurch. 'You have twenty minutes to get ready.' Then he was gone and she heard him giving orders to someone in the kitchen. For a few minutes she stood still, too overwhelmed by surprise, excitement and anticipation to do anything but stare after him. All her good resolutions about being brisk and impersonal had evaporated into thin air, dissolved into nothing before the word we—'We are going sightseeing.' Sugin might not have existed, the affair between them be only a figment of her imagination. Nothing mattered except that she and Marcus were going to spend the day together.
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