by Flora Kidd
Dropping the jeans, she searched the drawers, everywhere she thought he might have hidden them, but didn't find them. She even looked under the bed. Then she went downstairs and into the small study to search the bookshelves, the desk drawers, to lift up papers from the top of the desk and look under them. She didn't find her keys.
Why? she wondered as she went back to the kitchen. Why had he taken her keys and then pretended he hadn't got them? Because he wanted her to stay another night? But if he wanted her to stay why didn't he ask her outright? The answer came to her clearly and simply. He hadn't asked her to stay because he had assumed she would refuse to stay, so he had made it difficult for her to leave.
Puzzled by his behavior, she began to wash up the few dishes they had used, gazing out of the window at the fine grey drizzle that blotted out the view. If she did what Alun had suggested and set off for the town she would get soaked again. And then it was such a long way, about five miles to the main road and at least another six to the town. It looked as if it would be wiser to stay another night.
The sound of a car's engine made her look out of the window again. A brown and cream estate car lurched into the yard. The door of the vehicle opened and a woman wearing a fawn-coloured, wide-skirted riding mackintosh got out. She had a headscarf over her hair. She slammed the car door and approached the porch. When she heard the knock on the door Jessica wiped her hands on a towel and went to open it.
The woman's wide-set greenish-grey eyes flickered in surprise.
'Oh, I expected to see Alun,' she said. 'Isn't he at home?'
'Yes ... but....' Jessica glanced in the direction of the hen shed. There was no sign of Alun. She looked back at the woman. 'He said he was going to feed the hens and then have a look at the sheep. Can I give him a message?'
The woman smiled slightly, showing pretty small teeth. Her skin was fine and lightly weathered to a becoming peach colour. Black eyelashes made her eyes seem lighter than they actually were.
'I'm Mavis Owen,' she said. 'My daughter was over earlier. She said something about an accident to the Land Rover, so I came over to see if Alun is all right and if he needed any help.'
And you came to have a good look at me, thought Jessica, noticing how the greenish-grey cat's eyes were looking her over.
'Alun is fine,' she murmured. 'I'm Jessica Gower,' she added, dropping the Martin deliberately.
'Alun was supposed to come and see me yesterday evening to discuss a project we have in mind. Would you mind if I came in and waited for him to come back?' Mavis's smile widened. 'You and I can get to know each other better while waiting for him,' she suggested.
Jessica hesitated. She was longing to slam the porch door in Mavis's face, but she couldn't bring herself to be so rude.
'You can come in if you like, but you might have to wait a long time,' she replied reluctantly. 'I've really no idea when Alun will be back.'
'I'm very patient,' said Mavis, stepping into the porch. 'And I've often waited for Alun. We're old friends, he and I. We went to school together.'
'So your daughter told me,' said Jessica, leading the way into the kitchen. 'She also said that your late husband was a friend of Alun's too.'
'Gareth, my husband, and Alun used to go climbing together,' said Mavis, untying her headscarf and shaking free her shoulder-length dark brown hair. 'It's nice to be in this old house again,' she added, looking around. 'Nothing much has changed, and I still covet that collection of horse brasses.' She gave Jessica another curious glance. 'You haven't been here before, have you?'
'No, I haven't. Would you like a cup of tea while you're waiting?' Jessica asked politely.
'No, thanks.' Mavis sat down where Glynis had sat that morning and looked at Jessica in much the same way that her daughter had, her wide-eyed catlike glance going from the crown of shining golden hair, over the creased blouse and rumpled tweed skirt to the incongruous too-big Wellington boots. Defensively Jessica sat down too, hiding her skirt and boots under the table.
'I have to admit to being surprised that you're here now,' Mavis said frankly. 'You see, I'd been told that you had left Alun and were separated from him.'
'Did he tell you that?' asked Jessica. 'No.' Mavis frowned slightly. 'But when I asked him about you he just said that you were unable to come and live here with him because you work in your father's furniture business. He said that you and he had always had a very open marriage, allowing each other freedom to lead your own lives and go your own ways and not having to be together always.' Mavis looked up, her eyes very clear, their expression rather critical. 'Hardly a marriage at all, to my way of thinking,' she remarked disapprovingly.
Jessica let that go by. She wasn't going to be drawn into a discussion about her relationship with Alun with this cool cat-like woman, any more than she had with Glynis Owen.
'You said you wanted to discuss a project you and Alun have in mind,' she said. 'May I know what it is?'
'Of course. It's most important that you should know about it. Gareth and Alun used to talk all the time about wanting to start an adventure school here, among the hills. Both of them being expert rock-climbers and canoeists and knowing a lot about survival in the wilderness, they felt they could teach others various skills.'
'You mean it would be a sort of Outward Bound school?' asked Jessica.
'In some ways, yes. But it would also offer some more gentle adventures like pony-trekking. But it was dependent on Alun inheriting this farm and the thousand-odd acres of mountainside, river valley and lakeside that go with it. You see, Huw Gower would have nothing to do with the scheme. He didn't want a lot of foreigners walking over his land, disturbing his sheep, he said.' Mavis's lips twisted wryly. 'He didn't like Gareth. Or me,' she added. 'Unfortunately Gareth was killed before Alun inherited the property, but I don't see why I couldn't take Gareth's place and be Alun's partner in the project. I know about rock-climbing too and I'm a good riding instructor. I've suggested it to Alun several times since he came to live here. Has he mentioned the plan to you?'
'No, he hasn't. When would you like to start the school?'
'Well, I had hoped to start this spring, but I couldn't get Alun to agree. First he said he had to finish the book he's been writing about his father. Then he said...' Mavis broke off and frowned. She looked directly at Jessica again. 'I'm not quite sure how to put this, but he seems to feel he would have to be free of his commitment to you before he could go into partnership with me,' she added.
'What did he mean?' exclaimed Jessica in bewilderment. 'What commitment?'
'His marriage to you. He said he thought you wouldn't want him to be involved in a partnership with another woman while he's still married to you.'
'Oh,' said Jessica weakly. This was a different way of telling the same story Glynis had told. In Glynis's story it was Mavis who wouldn't go into partnership with Alun if he remained married to herself. 'Are you sure he said that?'
'Yes, I'm sure,' replied Mavis coolly. Her stare was very steady. Too steady? wondered Jessica. Was it possible Mavis was telling lies?
'I'd like a cup of tea even if you wouldn't,' Jessica said, getting to her feet and going across to the sink, doing anything that would take her away from Mavis's cold catlike stare. 'You know, all this is news to me,' she went on as she filled the kettle with water. 'Do you really believe that being married to me is all that is stopping Alun from going into partnership with you?'
'I know it is,' replied Mavis flatly. 'It's always been his dream to organise an adventure school, and now he owns the land and has the money to do it. Only his foolishly quixotic marriage to you stand in his way.'
'Foolishly quixotic? Whatever do you mean by that?' exclaimed Jessica, turning off the tap and turning to stare at Mavis.
'I mean that he only married you to help you out of a difficult situation,' said Mavis, and this time her glance was more critical as it roved over Jessica. It was downright disparaging. 'I mean, you're hardly the sort of woman to attract him, are you
? You're not the outdoors type. You couldn't survive one of those expeditions he goes on for that magazine he writes articles for. You couldn't live in a remote place like this all year around without all modern conveniences.'
'Who told you that he married me only to help me out of a difficult situation?' asked Jessica, putting the kettle on the stove and turning on a burner.
'Margian did—when she was here for her father's funeral. It was then she told me you had left Alun and were living apart from him.'
Margian, of course. How could she have forgotten Margian who had gone to school with Mavis too? thought Jessica wryly, as she turned to face Mavis.
'Margian had never understood Alun's and my relationship,' she said calmly. 'I think you should know that I certainly wouldn't stand in Alun's way if he wants to go into partnership with you. But he'll have to tell me about it himself first. And I'd have to be sure that organising an adventure school on this land in partnership with you is what he really wants to do.'
'It is,' said Mavis with conviction, rising to her feet and putting her headscarf on again. 'Would you let him have a divorce?'
'If he wants one, yes,' whispered Jessica.
'Then I hope you'll tell him that while you're here.' A slight smile played about Mavis's thin lips as she tied the ends of the silky scarf beneath her chin. 'You see, years ago when we were still at school, Alun and I fell in love with each other. Only he went away, to Cambridge, and—well, Gareth was still around, so I married him instead. But we have never forgotten each other, Alun and I, and these past nine months while he's been here, our love . . . our friendship has revived.' Mavis raised her head and gave Jessica another cold look. 'If you weren't in the way we could be married, see?'
'Yes, I see,' mumbled Jessica. 'I don't think I'll wait for him after all,' Mavis continued, going towards the porch door. 'Just tell him I came over, will you, please? And tell him also what you told me, that you won't stand in his way. Goodbye.'
The outer door of the porch closed behind Mavis. Jessica stepped over to the sink to lean forward and look out of the window. Mavis stood by her car, her hand on the door handle. She looked around the yard and then up the misty hillside.
If she goes up the hill to look for Alun I'll go after her and drag her back, thought Jessica wildly. She found she was clutching the edge of the sink with writhing fingers and gritting her teeth. Inside was seething with hate of Mavis Owen. She, always placid and usually liking everyone, was actually hating someone! She hadn't known she was capable of such a violent and destructive emotion.
Mavis seemed to think better of going up the hillside and got into the estate car. Within a few seconds it was lurching out of sight. Jessica sagged with relief and turned back to the stove. The kettle was beginning to boil. She turned off the burner and stood for a moment considering what she should do next.
Leave—she must leave, get to Dolgellau somehow and phone her mother. She went over to the chair where she had put her suit jacket and put it on. She was fastening the buttons when the door from the porch opened again, and she turned.
Alun was coming in. He was carrying a basket full of eggs.
'Not a bad yield today,' he remarked casually, putting the basket on the table.
'You've just missed your friend Mavis Owen,' said Jessica curtly.
'Oh? What did she want?' -
'To see you ... and me, I suspect. We talked.'
He flashed her a wary glance, his eyes bright gold under down-slanting black eyebrows.
'About what?'
'She told me about the project you and she have in mind—the adventure school.'
'So she was on about that again, was she?' he drawled, perching on the edge of the table, sitting with his hands under his thighs. 'What did she say about it?'
'She said you couldn't go into partnership with her while you're married to me. Did you say that?'
'Something like that.' He shrugged his shoulders.
'Why? Why did you say that?' she demanded.
'Because I felt you wouldn't like to be involved in such a project,' he replied evasively.
'She said I was in your way,' Jessica continued, 'so I told her that I'd never get in your way if organising an adventure school was what you really wanted to do, and she asked me to tell you that. I .. I also told her that ... that if you wanted a divorce, I'd be willing to give you one. Then she left.'
Eyes as cold as yellow marble glittered at her across the room.
'Thank you. Thank you very much,' drawled Alun, his lip curling sardonically. 'Since you and she were so chummy why didn't you leave with her? I'm sure she would have been delighted to give you a lift to Dolgellau. She would also have done her best to open your car for you, get it started so that you could go on your way to Beechfield.'
'Oh.' Jessica put a hand to her mouth. 'I never thought of that.'
'You didn't? You surprise me,' he jeered. 'And you so eager to leave! I assume you haven't found your keys yet?'
'No, I haven't. And I've looked everywhere. Even in your jeans pockets. Even in the drawers in your bedroom,' she retorted. 'I couldn't find them because you took them with you when you went out to feed the hens, didn't you?' she challenged.
'Did I?' he mocked, and sliding off the table he stepped towards her. He raised his arms to shoulder level. 'You can search me, if you want to,' he suggested softly, his eyes glinting wickedly between narrowed black lashes.
'All right, I will.'
Jessica stepped close to him and thrust her hands into the front pockets of his pants, her fingers groping. Both pockets were empty, but her seeking fingers became suddenly aware of the hard bone and taut muscles of his pelvis and stomach through the thin stretched-tight material and were tempted to linger there.
'I hope you know what you're doing,' he taunted, and his breath blew the tendrils of hair that drifted across her brow. 'That's a very sensitive area you're feeling around in. I hope you're prepared to take the consequences of what you're doing.'
Realising what he was implying, she tried to pull her hands out of his pockets, only to find his fingers had curled about her wrists and he was pressing her hands against his body. Protestingly she raised her head. Topaz-dark now, his eyes blazed down into hers, and then his lips covered hers in a ruthless demanding kiss.
Angry as much with herself as with him for letting him trick her into going close to him and unwittingly arousing him, Jessica did all she could to try and break free, without success. Letting go of her wrists, Alun put his arms around her to hold her tightly. Raising a hand to the back of her neck, he held her head still, preventing her from twisting it to break the kiss and his lips parted hers arrogantly to send their erotic messages through to her brain.
Even then she tried to assert mind over matter and to resist the dizzying wave of sensuousness that was flowing through her in response to the familiar scents of his warm hard body and the feel of his hands curving to her shape. But the wave overwhelmed her. Her breasts swelling, she arched against him invitingly and lifting her arms about his neck she returned his kiss ardently, letting reason be swamped by sensuousness.
Slowly his mouth slid away from hers. For a moment longer he held her, his cheek rough with beard stubble pressing hard against her soft one.
Her eyes closed, Jessica clung to him because she was still dizzy with desire, but inevitably her head stopped spinning. Sighing, she opened her eyes and stepped back from him. The fire still smouldered in his eyes and his hands still rested possessively on her waist.
'Why don't you admit you want to stay another night with me?' he whispered.
'No! No, I don't. I can't,' she replied shakily. 'I told you yesterday I didn't come here for ... for that.'
'Then why did you come at all?' he rasped, the warm glow in his eyes changing to the cold glitter of anger. Grasping her shoulders, he shook her. 'What the hell is the matter with you?' he demanded. 'Why have you come here to torment me?'
'I ... I just wanted ... to ... to see you
, just once before ... before we ... we split. Alun, please let go of me. You're hurting me!'
'Am I? Don't pretend to be surprised that I am,' he retorted through his teeth. 'God, I don't seem to be able to get through to you with words, so I'm having to resort to touch!' His hands tightened, fingers biting into her flesh, and she gasped. His teeth showed in a sort of snarling smile. 'When I touch you like that it means I'm angry and puzzled, see? But when I touch you like this' his hands slid down over her back caressingly to her buttocks and he pressed her against him, moving his hips against hers, making her aware of his arousal, 'And like this,' his lips were hot against the tender lobe of her ear and his teeth nipped it, 'this means that I want you. My God, how I want you!' he groaned. 'I want all of you, the gold and shining white of you in my bed, close to me, the gift that was once given to me and that I lost through no fault of my own.'
'It was your fault,' she cried, finding the strength to thrust him from her and fighting to control her reeling senses. 'You didn't love me enough. You didn't really care for me. Not enough to ask me to go away with you. Not enough to invite me to come here. You didn't love me. You wouldn't have had an affair with that woman in New York if you'd loved me . . .'
'I didn't have an affair with Ashley!' he roared at her. His face was pale and his eyes flashed with yellow light. 'How many times do I have to tell you—you imagined it!'
'I didn't. I didn't!' she cried, backing away from him around the table, putting it between himself and her, afraid of his anger. 'Sally told me. Sally said that was why you were always going to New York. You went to see that woman!'
'Sally?' Alun stopped stalking her and stared incredulously. 'Why would Sally tell you something like that?'
'I don't know. But she did.'
'And you believed her. You dared to believe her!' he accused, beginning to advance again. 'You didn't trust me. You talk about me not loving you enough, but what about you?' His voice dropped to a menacing sibilant whisper. 'You didn't love me, or you would never have believed that silly jealous cousin of mine. You'd have stayed on in our flat and waited for me to come back to you as I always had the two years we were together. But you didn't. You didn't love me enough to wait.'