Betrayal

by Margaret Bingley

  Much later he left her lying resting in bed and went down to the study to make some urgent phone calls before getting ready for dinner. It looked as though Lisa was now recovered from childbirth and he was delighted with her, although irritatingly aware that he still failed to bring her to a true climax.

  After his calls he remembered Mrs Sutton and rang the bell for her. She was there at once, hands clenched in front of her. 'Is there some problem about tonight?' he asked, privately wondering when she was going to accept that it was to Lisa she should now address all her queries. 'No, sir. I thought you ought to know that the late Mrs Gueras's drawing-room has been turned into a second dining-room. Rebekah was having tea there yesterday.'

  'On her own?'

  'No, your… wife was with her.' The pause was infinitesimal but Neal heard it and his eyes hardened.

  'In that case I fail to see how it concerns you. If my wife chooses to take meals in the hall, she's entitled to do so! I expect all the staff to respect her wishes as they respected my first wife's.'

  'But… '

  'Naomi is dead,' he said coldly. 'Much as you may regret this fact it cannot be altered. If you feel unable to continue as housekeeper, I'm sure I could make other arrangements for you.'

  Not another post, she noticed with alarm, other arrangements. It sounded ominous. 'I'm very happy here, sir,' she said quickly. 'However, your wife seems to feel that I don't suit her.'

  'Then I suggest that you learn to suit her, otherwise other arrangements will have to be made whether you wish it or not.'

  Mrs Sutton had seen many things, heard many secrets and been paid handsomely both for her skill at her job and her utter discretion. All of that plainly counted for nothing when balanced against the attractions of a new wife who'd had the good fortune to produce a male child at her first attempt. She was almost incoherent with fury, but knew better than to show it. Either she swallowed her pride and bent to Lisa's will or the alternative didn't bear thinking about.

  'I'll do my best,' she responded .

  'I'm sure you will. I think we understand each other very well.'

  After she'd gone he gave a sigh. The last thing he'd thought about when taking Lisa as his wife was domestic trouble. He'd underestimated the average unattractive, middle-aged spinster's antipathy towards such a vivacious and healthy new mistress after years of Naomi's reign. Well, if Kay and Naomi could die, one unattached housekeeper wouldn't prove any trouble. It was surprising how very easy successive thoughts of murder became.

  After he'd changed for dinner he went into Lisa's dressing room to fill her in on their guests. She was wearing a full-length skirt of plum-coloured velvet with a high-necked white blouse whose puritan appearance was at odds with that elusive hint of submerged sensuality that Neal was still striving in vain to release in her.

  'Has Mrs Sutton seen you yet?' His voice was casual.

  'She seemed to think you weren't satisfied with her performance.' 'She gave an excellent performance of a modern-day Mrs Danvers last night! I think she expected me to end up begging forgiveness for taking tea in what I'd failed to realise was Naomi's quiet room.' 'No doubt you made her mistake plain!'

  'Not plain enough if she complained to you. Can't we get rid of her? She'll never like me.'

  'We can get rid of her,' he said slowly, 'but I'm not quite sure what kind of a reference I'd be able to give.'

  'Why on earth not? Naomi was very pleased with all she did, surely that's enough?'

  'I dislike staff changes. I don't relish the thought of members of my household moving on and gossiping about anything they may have seen or heard while working here.'

  'Because of Naomi's drinking? Now she's dead surely that doesn't matter?'

  'It isn't only that. There are things… ' He deliberately didn't finish his sentence but their eyes met in the dressing table mirror .

  'You mean you'd prefer her to retire rather than take on a new job?'

  'You could put it that way.' 'Can she afford to retire?'

  'I'm sure I can find her somewhere cheap to live,' he said pleasantly. Instantly, for no logical reason, Lisa had a vision of a churchyard full of old grey headstones with one fresh white one, its lettering clear and unweathered.

  'Perhaps it's only fair to give her a little longer to get used to me,' she said at last.

  'That's very good of you, darling. Now, if you've finished doing your hair, I thought we should go through the guest list together.' All that Lisa took in was that Renato Bellini was going to be present.

  Since the dinner party was informal the men wore lounge suits and the women cocktail dresses. It constantly amazed Lisa that the wealthier women became, the more they seemed to dress in a uniform of black cocktail dresses, silver or gold ball gowns and autumnal shades of brown for their casual wear. Presumably all the dresses had different designer labels on them but they were so similar in appearance they could easily have been bought from a chain store. It was the same with their shoes and hairstyles.

  Glancing round the table she reflected that if the women played musical chairs, when the music finally stopped most of the men present would be hard-pressed to know if they'd ended up with the same wife or not. She felt strangely disconcerted by the thought.

  The food was good—nothing less would have been tolerated—but scarcely exciting, catering as it did for the low-salt, lean-meat, health-conscious businessmen. Personally she found eating steamed broccoli an excellent example of something which might not make you live longer but would certainly make you feel you had.

  The talk flowed around her and she knew that she must be responding properly because now and again Neal would beam down the table at her and she would smile back , well aware that he wanted the guests to see them as a perfect couple. The only incident of interest had occurred when Bishop arrived with Carol. Admittedly he wasn't unattractive and Carol might also have been interested in seeing Lisa's Berkshire home, but considering their conversation only the day before it was still surprising to see them together.

  Renato Bellini had come alone. This had ruined the seating arrangements and disconcerted Neal but Lisa was pleased. She only wished he was sitting nearer her. However, he was at Neal's end of the table and deep in conversation with the man opposite him.

  After a dessert of fresh fruit salad topped by meringue and cream, Lisa suddenly saw the door at the far end of the room swing slowly open, and to her horror, Jessica's head appeared round it, wide-eyed with surprise.

  That morning's therapy had been the same as the previous day's, a quieter but still miserable hour for both of them. Now, to see her daughter walking into a room full of strangers, was as astonishing as it was unwelcome. Neal had his back to Jessica; the first that he knew of her presence was when the woman on his left said, 'What a beautiful little girl,' and his head swung sharply round because he knew very well that she couldn't mean Rebekah.

  Slowly, Lisa stood up and began walking quietly round the table towards her daughter. Jessica was now gazing round the room, her eyes flickering from one object to another but never settling on any of the guests. Then she held out the skirts of her white cotton Victorian nightdress and began to sing. Again it was her favourite aria from Tosca and everyone remained riveted to their seats. Even Lisa, standing frozen half-way down the room, was deeply touched by the purity of her daughter's voice.

  When the aria ended, Jessica glanced round her again. She would probably have been all right if some of the guests hadn't taken it into their heads to applaud her singing. The sudden shattering of the silence jolted her into awareness of people, and then they began to call out to her: urging her to sing again; asking her to sit on their laps. People with loud voices intruding into her secret happiness.

  At once she changed—from a beautiful, almost enchanted child into a terrified animal, yelling at the top of her no longer musical voice and hurling herself round the room, hitting her head against walls and furniture in her fear. Grabbing a priceless porcelain figure of a clown s
he threw it to the ground, where it smashed to pieces in the marble hearth. The noise delighted her so she immediately seized a gold carriage clock and hurled that on to the marble as well.

  With a roar of fury, Neal leapt to his feet. 'Stop that at once, you wicked girl! Stop it, do you hear me?' And he reached out for the tiny figure.

  'Don't!' cried Lisa. 'Leave her alone, you're frightening her.'

  Jessica whimpered and sank on to all fours, scrabbling around on the carpet, searching for a corner in which to hide. Failing that, she grabbed her nightdress and pulled the skirt up over her head. Then, feeling slightly safer, she started screaming again.

  Unable to contain himself, Neal took two steps across the room and lifted his stepdaughter off the ground with his left hand as he swung his right hand back to strike her. Lisa's screams halted him for a brief second, and in that short space of time Renato Bellini had sprung from his chair and was level with Neal. Without a word, he grasped Jessica firmly round the waist and pulled her away from her step-father's grasp, before handing her carefully back to her terrified mother.

  Lisa was so near to tears she couldn't even thank him. All she could do was wrap her arms round her daughter and run from the room with her, murmuring softly as she went, trying to ease the rigidity of the child's body.

  In the dining-room everyone was silent. Bellini sat down in his chair and immediately recommenced his conversation with the man opposite. Taking their cue from him, all the guests promptly started to talk again, not daring to look at their host who was staring at the shattered remains of the clock and the clown and whose face was set in such an expression of fury that Carol, one of the few women in a position to see him, actually felt afraid for Lisa and her daughter.

  'Enchanting little thing, isn't she?' said Bishop sardonically. 'I hadn't realised Lisa's influence was so great that Jessica was now compulsory viewing for visitors!'

  'Don't be so vile!' snapped Carol. 'That poor little girl must have been out of her mind with fear.'

  'She's out of her mind, all right.' 'She's so pretty too.'

  'I don't think that compensates for her mental defects. If Neal's got any sense he'll have her put away after this, and a bloody good job too.'.

  'You've obviously got a keen understanding of the mentally handicapped,' said Carol, wishing she'd never been talked into keeping Bishop company tonight.

  He gave her a long, appraising look. 'Very spirited. Let's hope you don't disappoint me later on.'

  'I don't intend to give you any opportunity to be disappointed .'

  Just then Neal returned to the table, his smiling, courteous mask firmly back in place. 'I apologise for my step-daughter. She isn't responsible for her actions and doesn't normally come into this part of the house. I do hope no one was too distressed.'

  Bellini watched a small muscle jumping in the corner of Neal's jaw and knew that Lisa was going to pay for what had happened. He pictured the look of anguish on her face as she took Jessica from him, and for the first time he actually hated Neal Gueras.

  It was a good twenty minutes before Lisa returned and by then Neal was waiting impatiently for the women to leave the room. Bellini noticed with interest that Gueras now had himself well under control, going over to his wife, putting an arm gently round her shoulders. He also noticed how tense she was and that her automatic reaction, quickly smothered, was to draw away.

  'Is Jessica better now, darling?' Neal asked courteously. Lisa nodded. 'Good! Perhaps… '

  She stared blankly at him and the mask slipped slightly. 'The other room!' he hissed.

  For a second, Bellini thought she was going to walk out again, but then she made a tremendous effort and gave a brief nod. 'Shall we go into the drawing-room, ladies?' she suggested quietly, and they went far more rapidly than usual. Doubtless hoping, thought the Italian cynically, that the unfortunate Lisa would give them intimate details about her tragic child.

  'Right, gentlemen.' At last Neal could be himself and his speaking voice took on a harsher tone than was usually heard by ordinary acquaintances. 'I think it's time we discussed the new casinos in London. I'm sure none of us here,' and he gave Bellini a swift glance, 'wishes the Americans to regain a position of power.'

  'Certainly not,' endorsed a small balding man, better known as a caring left-wing M.P. 'From what I hear they're not going to stop at the casinos either. There's always the question of drugs and… '

  'Prostitution,' put in Bellini helpfully, and had the satisfaction of seeing the man flush scarlet. As the regular client of the assortment of rent boys run by Bishop on Neal's behalf, the politician was personally beneath contempt but naturally Neal used him. A tame politician was always useful.

  Normally Lisa found the small-talk when the women were alone excruciatingly boring, but tonight she hoped they'd all be content with gossiping about the latest hairstyles or an earl's daughter who'd run off with the milk man. Naturally they weren't; she was inundated with questions about her 'lovely little girl' . Questions that were made all the more painful by the voracious appetite of the women for as many details as possible to pass on to assorted friends.

  'She's autistic,' said Lisa briefly. 'It's a rare condition and very little's known about it. I'm sorry if she spoilt your meal. Somehow she slipped past her nurse and wandered downstairs by mistake. She's really very shy.'

  'Is your little boy all right?' asked a raddled-looking woman wearing a low-cut dress.

  'It isn't hereditary. Alexi is fine.'

  'She sang beautifully,' said Carol, almost as upset as Lisa by what had happened. 'Can't that be used to help her?'

  'It doesn't lead to anything. Lots of autistic children have one outstanding talent. She won't ever be normal enough to train as an opera singer, I'm afraid.'

  'How good of your husband to let her stay here,' said the wife of the M.P. who liked young boys. 'He's obviously devoted to you.' She'd always liked Neal Gueras.

  'I'm very lucky,' agreed Lisa, secretly wondering what Neal was going to say in the privacy of their bedroom.

  'Isn't there any cure?' asked another woman.

  Lisa was beginning to understand how Jessica must feel when surrounded by people. 'No, there is treatment but it takes a long time before you know if it's helping. Does anyone know what the Royal Ballet are performing next month? I'd like to take my youngest step-daughter for her birthday treat.' After that, no one had the nerve to return to the subject of Jessica. By the time the men rejoined them, Lisa had almost recovered her composure.

  Bishop came across to her side. 'That's the first time your husband's provided a cabaret during the meal!' he sniped. 'Did the women want to know if they could hire her?'

  'No, but one or two expressed interest in the clown who'd brought Carol along. I think it was for their children's parties.'

  A sharp intake of breath was reward enough for Lisa, who'd decided that she couldn't possibly make Bishop hate her more than he did already and was practising defending both herself and Jessica against any further attacks from Neal.

  As the guests mingled and some of the men gathered round the television to watch a video the MP had brought back from Frankfurt, Bellini moved smoothly to Lisa's side.

  'Are you all right?' he asked softly. 'I'm fine.'

  'And little Tosca?'

  'She was in a terrible state when I left. I just can't thank you enough for the way you took hold of her. Neal was so livid that… '

  'It was nothing. How is the treatment going?'

  'There is a change in her,' said Lisa slowly. 'Not exactly an improvement but at least she isn't fighting against me so hard. She's used to sitting on my lap and letting me hold her. Instead of screaming with fury, she looks pathetic and cries quietly.'

  'You must be exhausted after such sessions.'

  'Fortunately life with Neal doesn't give me much time to think about myself! He wouldn't like it if I kept saying how tired I was, and by convincing him I'm all right I fool myself as well. Rather like that song from
The King and I!'

  'You cannot fool your body. Eventually you will have to sleep.' 'I'm fine, honestly.' She lifted her face to smile an assurance. It was a terrible mistake. In his eyes she saw such an expression of affection mixed with desire that she began to move closer to him as her heart raced and her legs felt weak. He too remained frozen, realising that for the first time in his life he was face to face with a woman whom he wanted not only for lovemaking but also to cherish and protect. Here was a woman he might have considered marrying and he couldn't have her.

  His mouth softened and the lines that ran from the side of his nose down to the corners of his mouth smoothed away as he very slowly began to lift a hand to caress her cheek. Fortunately for them both, the MP suddenly let out a shout of excited laughter and in the ensuing outburst of sexual innuendo the spell was broken.

  Bellini's hand returned to his side while his face assumed its more usual cynical expression, only the softness in his eyes remaining as proof that Lisa hadn't imagined it all. She moved away from him, half-turning towards the television but averting her eyes when she saw two naked girls rolling round on a circular bed together.

  Most people were staring avidly at the action but Bishop stood apart from the crowd. He'd been watching Lisa and Bellini from the moment they came together and had seen the tell-tale signs of the Italian's feelings. Inside he smiled to himself. It was now possible that, given sufficient rope, Lisa would hang herself; although the fact that it was Bellini who was involved made it more complicated because Bellini couldn't possibly be made to suffer, whatever his actions. Even so, it was nice to know the man had a weakness.

  Carol tugging at his arm brought Bishop back to reality. 'I don't think I want to watch any more of this,' she said coldly. 'Perhaps you'd take me back. I have to be up early tomorrow.'

  His mind went through the known facts about her. Single, no family, up to her neck in debt, dependent upon Neal Gueras to keep her shop going. He was quite safe; she couldn't make a fuss whatever happened. 'Fine,' he said casually. 'We'll have a quick nightcap in my annexe and then we'll set off for London. I must admit I prefer action to watching this kind of simulated sex.'