Charade in Winter

by Anne Mather

  Unaware, she had been staring at him intently for several seconds, and it was fortunate that Melissa had distracted her grandmother’s attention by hauling out the carrier containing her new boots for display. But Oliver was returning her stare, and what he could read in her eyes had banished some of the coldness from him.

  ‘Well?’ he said softly. ‘Have you decided?’

  For a minute she thought he had read her thoughts, and coloured deeply. Then she realised he was talking about the food, and looked hurriedly down at the menu again.

  ‘I—er—chop suey would be nice,’ she stammered, her voice subsiding abruptly when his fingers curved possessively over her knee.

  ‘Alix,’ he said in a tortured voice, ‘I love you!’

  Never could such a declaration have been made in such unsuitable surroundings, with Melissa chattering to the waiter who had arrived to take their order, and Lady Morgan complaining that she couldn’t decide between the prawn salad and the chicken chow mein. Yet for a brief moment in time they were immune from the everyday sights and sounds of the restaurant, and Alix’s fingers covered his with shaking urgency. His hand turned to grasp hers compellingly, and a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth as he acknowledged her surrender.

  Alix felt weak as she contemplated his mouth and the disturbing awareness of how that mouth would feel against hers—against her skin—against the whole trembling length of her. But was he serious? What did those hoarsely-spoken words presage? He said he loved her—but how many other women had heard him use those same words, and why should she assume that they were anything more than an extension of the things he had said to her the night before? Love meant different things to different people, but why should he choose to say it here of all places?

  ‘What are you having, Daddy?’

  Melissa’s shrill little voice distracted them, and although he retained his hold on Alix’s hand under cover of the menus, Oliver managed a teasing smile for his daughter.

  ‘Let me see,’ he said, pretending to study, ‘I’ll have a chicken chop suey, I think. How about you, Alix?’

  His unexpectedly casual use of her name did not go unnoticed and catching Lady Morgan’s eyes, Alix felt wretched. Oliver’s aunt was not one to hide her feelings, and what was more, the opinion she held could well be right. After all, Oliver believed Alix was a married woman, and although he said he could not afford to get involved in a divorce case, perhaps he had decided to take advantage of something that was so blatantly offered. She shivered, remembering her response to his lovemaking. Did he think she was like that with any man? That her experience of marriage had left her desperate for a substitute? And had he decided to take her up on it? But why tell her he loved her, unless he understood her so well that he guessed a declaration was the kind of thing she would respond to…

  Now she pulled her hand free of his and said tensely: ‘Chop suey, please!’ before deliberately handing the menu back to the waiter.

  The orders were made and Lady Morgan leant across the table towards her. ‘Did you buy anything for yourself?’ she asked.

  Alix shook her head. ‘I—no. We didn’t have time.’

  Oliver shifted on the banquette so that his leg was against hers, and determinedly Alix put a few more inches between them. She was aware that he gave her a curious look, but then Melissa captured his attention again and she breathed more easily.

  ‘I expect you’ll be going home for Christmas, won’t you, Alix?’ persisted Lady Morgan, playing with the stem of her glass. ‘Will you be seeing your husband?’

  If Alix had been in any doubt before, this latest gambit would have confirmed her suspicions of Oliver’s aunt’s intentions. But she remained calm, and answered quietly: ‘No, I shan’t be seeing—my husband, Lady Morgan,’ ignoring the temptation to see whether she could hurt Oliver as he was hurting her.

  Oliver himself pulled a case of cheroots out of his pocket, and putting one between his teeth said, ‘I don’t think Alix will be going home for Christmas, Grizelda. We’re likely to be snowed up by then, and I don’t think she should risk making the journey to London when it’s possible she might not be able to get back again.’

  Cool grey eyes surveyed his aunt across the table, and Lady Morgan looked down into her Martini. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea, Oliver?’ she asked, and Alix was aware of the double meaning behind her words.

  ‘I think Alix must decide for herself,’ he replied levelly, and the older woman caught her breath.

  ‘I probably shall go home—to my parents’ home—for Christmas,’ Alix interposed quickly, and knew that she was the cynosure of at least two pairs of eyes.

  Before anything more could be said, however, the waiter arrived with their individual requirements, and the confusion of plates and dishes took up a considerable amount of time, so that it was easier to concentrate on the meal than attempt a compromise.

  But Alix simply couldn’t eat hers. Her throat had closed up completely, and in spite of swallowing several glasses of the white wine Oliver had ordered to drink with the meal, she found it impossible to get more than a few mouthfuls down. She noticed that Oliver was eating little of his either, and even Lady Morgan seemed abstracted. Only Melissa ate with enthusiasm, interspersing forkfuls with further information about her new wardrobe.

  It was after two o’clock when they emerged from the restaurant, and Oliver suggested stowing the things they had already bought in the car before going on to the Toy Fair. They all agreed, although Alix would have much preferred them to leave her, so that she had some time to get her thoughts into perspective before returning to Darkwater Hall. What seemed obvious now was that somehow she had to tell Oliver the truth, and then she would know his real intentions. If he threw her out, and it seemed likely, at least the guilt with which she was burdened would no longer weigh so heavily on her. Of course there were any number of complications—like who was Melissa’s mother and what did she mean to him now?—and Melissa’s own feelings towards any woman who might conceivably divert her father’s attentions from her. But whatever happened, she could no longer go on living a lie.

  Once the carriers had been disposed of, Alix made an effort to escape. ‘I do have one or two things I’d like to buy,’ she murmured, ‘and now that Melissa’s fitted out, you don’t need me any longer.’

  Oliver’s eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t want to come with us?’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Alix sighed, ‘I’d just like to do some shopping for myself, that’s all.’

  ‘Perhaps Alix wants to buy some personal things, Oliver,’ remarked Lady Morgan mildly, but Oliver ignored her.

  ‘You can do your shopping after we’ve been to the Toy Fair,’ he persisted grimly. ‘Can’t you?’

  Alix was trying to find some reason why she could not when his aunt spoke again. ‘Look, Oliver,’ she said, ‘why don’t you take Melissa to see the toys, while Alix and I go shopping together? I’m sure Melissa would love having you all to herself for once.’

  There was studied reproof in her words, and while the last thing Alix wanted was a těte-à-těte with Lady Morgan, she knew she had no choice. Melissa deserved some time alone with her father.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed now, smothering the impulse to banish the slightly hunted look from Oliver’s face, ‘that’s all right with me.’

  Oliver thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and she sensed his angry frustration. ‘Very well,’ he said at last, giving in to Melissa’s excited pleas. ‘We’ll meet back here at four o’clock.’

  ‘Make it four-thirty,’ suggested his aunt, tucking her arm through Alix’s. ‘That will give us time to have a cup of tea before we meet you.’

  Oliver inclined his head curtly, and after a brief word of farewell, he and Melissa left them, disappearing into the crowds without a backward glance.

  * * *

  Deciding she was not going to give Lady Morgan time to indulge in idle conversation, Alix made a determined effort to accomplish all her own C
hristmas shopping in the space of two hours. As well as her mother, she had a married brother and his wife and their two children to buy for, and there was a certain satisfaction to be gained from finding exactly the right gift for each of them. Her mother loved jewellery, so that was easy, and an amethyst brooch suited her very well. She bought a book on sailing for her brother, and some perfume for his wife, and spent a little longer choosing some games for the children. They were five and three, and only just beginning to take an interest in board games, and there was quite an assortment to choose from.

  It crossed her mind that perhaps she ought to buy gifts for Melissa and Lady Morgan, and Oliver, as well, but she didn’t really know where she would be at Christmas.

  Lady Morgan began to get impatient towards four o’clock. She had bought nothing but hand cream, and she began to insinuate that she was needing a rest.

  ‘Look!’ she exclaimed, as they came into Fenwicks from Eldon Square, ‘the restaurant’s on the second floor. Let’s go up and have a cup of tea.’

  Alix was reluctant, but she realised she couldn’t be selfish, and Oliver’s aunt was looking a little weary now. The lift transported them to the restaurant itself, and although it was quite full the waitress managed to find them a table in a corner.

  ‘What a relief!’ Lady Morgan exclaimed, fanning herself with her handkerchief. ‘I’d forgotten what it was like to trail from store to store.’

  ‘You needn’t have come,’ Alix reminded her dryly, allowing the other woman to take charge of the teapot while she lay back in her chair and relaxed for the first time that day.

  ‘Oh, yes, I need,’ Lady Morgan contradicted her, when the tea was poured. ‘I wanted Oliver to go with Melissa. They need to get to know one another better, those two.’

  Alix let this go. She was not prepared to instigate a discussion about Oliver’s merits as a father.

  But of course Lady Morgan insisted on going on. ‘What do you think of Melissa?’ she asked intently. ‘Really think of her, I mean, not just because she’s your reason for being here.’

  Alix sighed. ‘I like her,’ she replied guardedly. ‘She’s no better and no worse than any other little girl.’

  ‘You don’t think she’s—well, a little insecure?’

  Alix put down her teacup. ‘What are you trying to say, Lady Morgan?’

  The older woman looked shocked at this sudden reversal of their roles. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Alix leant towards her. ‘All this talk about Melissa! You don’t really want to know what I think of Melissa. You want to know what I think of her father!’

  ‘You don’t know her father,’ replied Lady Morgan quietly. ‘He was a Japanese film director that Joanne met when she and Oliver went to Tokyo in 1975!’

  CHAPTER TEN

  TO say that Alix was stunned was an understatement. Lady Morgan was actually telling her that Melissa wasn’t Oliver’s child at all, but that of his wife and some unknown Japanese film magnate. It was staggering.

  ‘I knew you’d be shocked,’ the older woman said now, looking at Alix’s pale face. ‘You thought Oliver had had a mistress, didn’t you? Well, he didn’t. He never has—to my knowledge, at least. Joanne was the unstable half of that marriage.’

  ‘But—’ Alix couldn’t take it in. Her mind refused to function normally. ‘Why—why wouldn’t he acknowledge the child before his wife’s death if he intended to do so afterwards?’

  Lady Morgan shook her head. ‘I’m afraid you don’t understand, my dear. Oliver didn’t know about Melissa until about eighteen months ago. Then…’ She sighed. ‘In the course of one of their arguments, Joanne threw the information at him, hoping, I suppose, that he would agree to give her grounds for a divorce.’

  ‘Joanne wanted a divorce?’

  ‘On her own terms,’ agreed Lady Morgan, nodding. ‘You see, the terms of her father’s will were rather unusual. Andrew—my husband—knew what Joanne was like, and he put certain rather awkward clauses in his will to the effect that should Oliver have grounds to divorce Joanne, she would lose everything.’

  ‘So she hoped that if Oliver learned about—about Melissa, he might decide to give her her freedom?’

  ‘Something like that,’ the older woman responded.

  ‘But—he wouldn’t?’

  ‘No.’ Lady Morgan sighed again. ‘Oh, I realise you don’t know Oliver as well as I do, but even you must realise that he is an honest man—a compassionate man. As soon as he learned that Joanne’s daughter was hidden away in some remote Japanese island, he insisted on meeting her, and both of them flew out to Hokkaido to see the child. Of course, you can guess what happened. Melissa took to Oliver at once, and Oliver would have brought her back to England there and then had Joanne been willing.’

  ‘She wasn’t?’

  ‘Heavens, no!’ Lady Morgan was vehement. ‘Could you imagine what Joanne’s sophisticated friends would have to say about Melissa? For years they had been sympathising with her. She always maintained that Oliver made their life together difficult, that he was a brute and a womaniser, using her money as a stepping stone to his own success. It wasn’t true, of course, but Oliver let her get away with it. I think he felt some obligation towards my late husband—it was he who promoted Oliver’s exceptional talent—and maybe he thought that without him, Joanne didn’t stand much chance of surviving. She was always a very highly-strung, wilful girl, a little like Melissa is now, but I wasn’t blind to her weaknesses, as she thought I was.’

  Alix absorbed her words with an effort. Melissa was not Oliver’s child, she kept telling herself incredulously. There was no haunting Japanese beauty in the shadows of his past, and Melissa’s resemblance to him was simply that of family likeness—Joanne had been his cousin, after all.

  Then other thoughts invaded her mind. Lady Morgan had erased the stigma of Melissa’s illegitimacy from Oliver’s shoulders, that was true, but was she also aware she had provided the perfect motive why he should wish Joanne dead? At her death, he inherited a tremendous amount of money, as well as the opportunity to acknowledge Melissa as his daughter.

  Thrusting these thoughts aside, however, she said, ‘Why are you telling me all this, Lady Morgan?’

  The older woman lifted her shoulders. ‘I thought you would be interested.’

  ‘I am. You know I am. But—’

  ‘Look!’ Lady Morgan broke in gently. ‘I know how you feel about Oliver.’

  ‘You—do?’

  ‘Of course. Don’t be like Joanne and imagine that because I’m sixty-three I’ve lost the ability to see—and feel. I know you’re attracted to him, and perhaps he is attracted to you, but—and it’s a very big but—don’t be fooled into thinking that he might be serious.’

  Alix couldn’t let that go. Oliver had said he loved her, after all. ‘Why not?’ she demanded.

  ‘Because,’ Lady Morgan paused, ‘although Oliver inherited Joanne’s estate when she died, if he marries again, he loses it.’

  Alix’s cheeks flamed. ‘He might not care.’

  ‘I think he would.’

  ‘Why?’ Alix stared at her.

  ‘Because of Melissa, of course. Do you think it’s fair that he should deprive Joanne’s daughter of her mother’s estate?’

  Alix rested her elbows on the edge of the table, cupping her hot face in her hands. Of course, Oliver would not do that. If he had been prepared to bring Melissa to England at whatever cost to his wife, he would hardly be prepared to deny her a secure future now. And his work, no matter how successful at present, could not be said to be a steady profession.

  ‘So you see…’ explained Lady Morgan, ‘what I’m telling you is for your own good. And in any case, aren’t you forgetting something?’

  ‘What?’ Alix frowned.

  ‘Why, your husband, naturally. And I further doubt that Oliver would expose Melissa to the publicity of a divorce case at this stage in her development.’

  And Melissa herself was no small problem, thought
Alix miserably. She had made it plain from the beginning that she would not welcome another woman to dilute her adopted father’s affections.

  Alix pushed her teacup aside, and linked cold hands together in her lap. ‘So what do you think I should do?’ she asked in a small voice.

  Lady Morgan looked thoughtful for a moment, then she said: ‘I think, when you go home for Christmas, as indeed you must, you should not come back.’

  ‘And—and Melissa’s education?’

  ‘We’ll get someone else. Someone older, I think. I did think you were somewhat unsuitable at the time, but if you remember, I had no alternative but to choose you.’

  Alix bent her head, unable to meet her eyes, sure that the reasons she had been sent here must be mirrored in hers for anyone to see. How successful she had been, she thought bitterly. In this brief space of time she had learned everything she had come here to learn, and if she wrote her story now, Willie would feel his faith in her during the past five years had been justified. And if she didn’t write the story, and she had no intention of doing so, she would no doubt be fired on the spot…

  ‘Heavens!’ Lady Morgan was looking at her watch now. ‘It’s after four-thirty! Oliver and Melissa will be waiting for us. Come along, my dear, we must hurry. Oliver doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

  Alix gathered her bags and parcels and followed Lady Morgan into the lift, but her movements were slow and automatic and they reached the ground floor without her being aware of it.

  Outside, the older woman jostled her along, giving her occasionally anxious stares, as if, Alix thought in a moment of lucidity, she was half afraid of the consequences of her uninvited confidences.

  Oliver and Melissa were waiting outside the car-park, stamping their feet to keep warm. The crowds of shoppers had thinned somewhat now, although the traffic more than made up for any lessening of activity by pedestrians. Oliver started forward as Alix and his aunt appeared, and it was obvious from his expression that he was not well pleased.