`It's hopeless ...'
`I must insist ...'
`In this state, nothing she said would stand up in court anyway. Hasn't eaten all day, I'd say...'
`Hasn't eaten?'
`My client wishes ...'
`Not yet ...'
Then that deep, quiet voice that everyone listened to. `Gentlemen, I am taking my wife home.'
It was all an extension of the dream. Except that for some reason she had stopped being afraid. Candy sank thankfully into exhausted sleep.
She woke slowly. The heaviness of sleep still clung around her as she opened her eyes and groaned.
Justin said impersonally, 'You'll feel better when you've eaten something.'
Candy lifted her head from the pillow, winced and let it drop back. She was in his room. She was alone in the big bed, the covers tangled and the pillows beaten flat. It could not have been more obvious that she had slept in it alone.
Justin was leaning against the wall by the window. His hands were in the pockets of his city trousers. He was wearing a crisp white shirt but no tie as yet. Presumably getting ready for the office.
`What time is it?'
Justin looked at his watch. 'Nearly eleven.'
She bounced up at that, though her every muscle screamed.
`Eleven? But—what are you doing here?'
He gave her a long, unreadable look.
`Waiting to see if you felt better,' he said evenly.
`Oh.' For some reason, Candy blushed. It was silly. There was no feeling in that cool voice. Certainly nothing to have her looking down at her interlocked fingers as if she were a Victorian maiden, and not managing to get her tongue round a reply. But she could feel the heat in her cheeks.
`Are you?'
She swallowed and fought for composure.
`Am I what?'
`Better,' he said patiently.
`Oh. Yes. I think so.'
He said very quietly, 'Don't lie to me, Candida. You look terrible.'
`Oh.' She cleared her throat. 'Er—maybe you're right. Breakfast could help.'
Justin looked at her searchingly. She could not meet his eyes. Which was stupid. He gave a sigh.
`I'll put the coffee on. And toast. An egg?'
Candy shuddered. Looking at him shyly under her eyelids, she saw him frown.
`They said at the hospital you hadn't eaten all day yesterday.' It was an accusation. 'Why, for God's sake?'
Yesterday was a century ago. Candy struggled to remember what happened. The fight with Justin. And her mother. And her own wretched bewilderment. And then Lizbeth, in tears at her meeting with Justin, presenting a challenge Candy could not begin to meet. The slowly dawning realisation that she had locked herself into a prison she would never get out of by falling in love with Justin.
She winced. And because she could not bear to think about it, she took refuge, as she always did, in comedy. She shrugged.
`Oh—unrequited love.'
It was even true, she thought drily.
Justin's face darkened. He took a hasty step forward. Then stopped.
`One day...' he said, the beautiful mouth rigid.
Candy tossed back her hair. She realised, startled, that her shoulders were bare. 'Yes?' she asked defiantly.
'Oh, God, you're such a child!' Justin exploded. 'You play with fire and don't even ... One day you'll get yourself badly burned.'
She stared at him. For once his face was not expressionless. The rage was there for anyone to see. She said involuntarily, 'I think I already did.'
The anger died out of his eyes. For a moment he didn't speak, the keen eyes searching her face.
Then he said, 'Poor little Candy.'
He had never used that tone to her before. It hit her like a blow. It was as if he had removed himself. As if they were strangers.
Candy sat up straighter, but he had turned away. `I'll bring you a tray.'
`No,' she said more sharply than she intended.
It was odd, but she knew she could not bear that—the illusion of being cherished when he was just being courteous. Courteous, responsible Justin, who regarded his marriage as a terrible mistake.
He turned back, mildly surprised.
She said hurriedly, 'I want to get up. I'd like a shower. I feel sweaty and yuck.' One eyebrow rose disbelievingly as she snapped, 'You said yourself I looked terrible.'
Justin looked amused. 'Not too terrible to have breakfast in bed.'
But she was obstinate. He shrugged.
`Don't be long, then. Or I'll come and get you.'
It was not, she knew, an idle threat. But it was a wholly disinterested one. Responsible Justin making sure that his nuisance of a wife didn't faint in the shower. She could have thrown things.
Instead she waited until he had gone and then slipped out of bed. Whoever had undressed her last night had failed to find a nightdress. She was naked. Candy bit her lip.
There was no point in thinking about it now. It would have to have been Justin. And, after all, he had seen her naked before. There was no reason why it should make her feel so shaky and vulnerable to realise he had stripped off yesterday's blackened garments.
She set her teeth and grabbed at the old robe on the chair at the end of the bed. It was rubbed thin with wear and the cuffs were fraying. It smelled of Justin's cologne.
A lump came into her throat. She swallowed hard and went to her own room to collect jeans and a shirt. But she went back to Justin's bathroom to shower.
He did not disturb her. She was very quick and he would have had no justification. But Candy had half hoped that he might come back into the room to tell her that coffee was brewed or the toast nearly ready, as he had done in the cottage.
Suppressing disappointment, she ran a comb perfunctorily through her curls and went out to the kitchen.
There was another disappointment. Jeremy was there, looking interested and sipping mango tea. Justin gave them a smile of equal impersonal friendliness and put toast and a boiled egg in front of Candy.
Since she had seen him earlier he had put on his waistcoat and tie. So he had to have come back into the bedroom, and had not called out to her. And he was going into the office after all.
`Thank you,' she said in a constricted voice, sitting down at the pine table.
He looked at his watch. 'You'll be all right now.' It wasn't a question.
Candy wanted to reach out and beg him to stay. She wanted to say that she had not really thought he was
Dave last night. That it was a spur-of-the-moment confusion, coming from her own silly fantasies. That she had not wanted Dave. That she wanted nobody but Justin and she wanted him forever.
It was impossible. Jeremy was there; and anyway, it would embarrass Justin horribly. He had already been more than dutiful.
He bent and kissed her cheek. His lips just brushed the softness beside her mouth, but her whole body clenched in response. Unseen, her hands shut tight in her lap as she fought down the urge to lock them behind his head and make him kiss her properly. As he could.
He caught up his jacket from a chair-back, picked up his briefcase, said goodbye to Jeremy—and went.
She could not help it. Candy watched him all the way to the door with her heart in her eyes. He did not turn. The door closed behind him; he ran lightly down the stairs; the front door on to the street slammed. It had a final sound.
Jeremy was watching her. She realised with a little start that his shrewd eyes had been on her throughout. He shook his head and brought his tea over to the table. He pulled up the chair that Justin had pushed awry when he'd seized his jacket. Lifting his cup, Jeremy looked at her gravely over the rim.
`Now, dear,' he said seriously. 'I think you'd better tell me all about it.'
When she had finished, Candy could not meet his eyes. Jeremy was looking at her incredulously. Candy bent her head.
`I have never,' said Jeremy, 'heard such rubbish in my life. For heaven's sake, I thought you were a sensible girl. T
hat's what Justin said. How wrong can you be?'
Candy bit her lip. 'When did he say it?'
`When he told me you were getting married. After he'd been to some party of your father's.'
She stared. 'You must be mistaken.'
Jeremy shook his head positively. `No, I'm not. He had his aunt Rose round here for breakfast. They were into the sausages and bacon by the time I arrived. And they'd opened champagne. Lady Richmond said, "Justin's getting married at last. Be gentle with him, Jeremy, he's in love." And Justin grinned and gave me a glass of champagne.'
Candy said, 'I don't believe it.'
He shrugged. 'Believe it or not, it's the truth. Ask Lady Richmond.'
`But—we'd only just met,' she said blankly.
Jeremy looked faintly interested. 'Love at first sight?'
`Don't be ridiculous,' exclaimed Candy. She stood up, agitated. 'That's just in fairy-stories. Love at first sight! Anyway, people don't get married because of it. They get married for reasons—after thinking things over and ... and..:
She stopped under Jeremy's amused eyes.
`And what were Justin's reasons?' he asked politely.
She flung up her hands, helpless. 'How do I know? He's not the sort of man who would say. I thought maybe the shares in the company that were in trust for me . She trailed off, meeting Jeremy's sceptical look.
`He must have said something,' he said briskly. 'Think. When he asked you—'
`Told me,' she interjected.
`All right. Told you. He must have said there was something in it for both of you. What was it"?'
She thought. Then she said slowly, 'He said that I needed a Galahad.'
`Well, he wasn't wrong, was he?' Jeremy remarked not without sympathy.
`Of course not. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself without some knight in shining armour '
`You,' interrupted Jeremy calmly, 'were so scared when he walked out of here this morning, I thought you were going to collapse all over again.'
`Oh,' said Candy.
`Weren't you?'
`I was shaken after last night. I—'
Jeremy looked disgusted. He got up, pushing the chair away decisively.
`If you want my advice you'll take a long, hard look at yourself before you do some serious damage,' he said. `Not that it's any of my business. I must get on with my work.'
He buzzed angrily round the flat with his Hoover. Candy followed him, but he kept shaking his head, insisting that he couldn't hear. 'Anyway, it's not me you need to talk to. It's Justin. After the police, of course. You do know they're coming this morning?'
She looked blank. He clicked his tongue.
`Justin talked them out of it last night. But they want a statement.'
`Why didn't Justin tell me?'
Jeremy sniffed 'Seems you two aren't communicating these days. It's up on the kitchen memo-board. I saw it first thing. Perhaps you didn't look.'
There were two policemen—one big and slow and quite young, the other older and obviously considerably his senior.
`Thank you, Mrs Richmond,' he said when they had finished. 'I wasn't best pleased with you last night, I don't mind admitting. Or your husband, for that matter. Armitage is dangerous—a professional with a mad streak. Mr Richmond had no cause to go in after him like that. And if that old tramp hadn't called we wouldn't have known what was going on.' He stood up. 'Still, no harm done, seeing as you're all right. And Mr Richmond too, I hope?'
Candy looked blank.
The younger policeman stood up too. He commented, `That was a nasty cut on his hand. And a lot of blood, too, if that really was all that was wrong with him He wouldn't let the police surgeon look at him last night. Too worried about you.'
He didn't actually say he couldn't understand it. He didn't have to. The older policeman looked amused.
`You wait till you're married, Geoff. You'll know what it's like then,' he said cheerfully. Geoff looked sceptical. His senior said soberly, 'It wasn't just you had a shock last night, Mrs Richmond. I'd say your husband's going to get a nasty reaction, if he isn't careful. He was going crazy before he went in there after Armitage. Gave my men the slip doing it. I reckon that'll take some getting over.'
Candy stood up too. Justin had been hurt last night? `Yes,' she said. 'I mean, thank you.'
Something about her blank look must have touched the older policeman. He gave her an almost fatherly pat on the arm.
`You take care of him. And yourself. Get away. A good holiday does wonders. Make a bit of a fuss of yourselves.'
`Yes,' she said again.
Unbidden the thought of the French cottage came into her mind. It would be high summer now—hot and sleepy amid the vines. Justin loved it, and together they could start to talk again. Maybe even touch a little.
She gave them a sudden, brilliant smile. 'I'll think about it,' she promised.
When she had showed them out, Jeremy came out of the kitchen with his tote bag.
`Your mother rang,' he said, consulting a list. 'And some woman from the Centre—Mel, is it? And the bloke
who runs it. And Alison. She said the papers had picked
it up, and Justin's referring them all to his Press officers.'
Candy waited. When he was clearly not going to say anything else, she could not help herself.
`Not Justin?'
Jeremy said drily, 'You want to talk to Justin, you call him '
She sighed. It wasn't so easy to call someone you saw night and morning and weren't sure wanted to hear any more from you.
Jeremy slapped the list down on the telephone table.
`Up to you, Candy. There's your messages. See you.'
He went. She sat for a long time trying to make up her mind. At the very thought of speaking to him, her hands shook. This is crazy, she thought. I married the man, for heaven's sake. I can't be afraid of him. She took four long breaths, picked up the phone and rang the private office number.
Alison answered, sounding friendlier than she had for weeks. Justin was busy, but she would just see whether he could take a call. And she did hope Candy was better after her ordeal.
`Thank you,' said Candy, surprised and touched.
`I do so admire you for doing it. And so does Justin, I know. If he seems a bit short-tempered about it, that's because he worries about you.'
That was the third person this morning telling her that Justin cared for her. Could they all be wrong? But if they weren't, how had she managed to be so blind?
`Candida.' It was Justin's voice, low and resonant and infinitely attractive. Candy felt her heart begin to beat faster.
`Hello,' she said, like a breathless schoolgirl. `Are you all right?' he asked with quick concern.
`Oh, yes. I—I've just seen the police. They—they told
me you were hurt last night.'
There was a little pause. Then he said oddly, 'Is that why you rang?'
She didn't know what to say. If only he were here and she could look at him and touch him and he could see what she felt. She had no idea how to put her uncertainties, her need for reassurance into words.
`Yes. No. Sort of.'
`Don't start feeling sorry for me, Candida.' The velvet voice was harsher than she would have believed possible. `I'm not one of your lame dogs. I don't need your pity.'
So much for her fantasy of them together in the French countryside refashioning the future.
Candy said, 'I was worried.'
She knew she sounded sullen, and was furious with herself.
Justin told her drily, 'I'll survive. Now, did you want something else, or can we leave the rest of this domestic exchange until I get home this evening?'
Suddenly Candy was angry. She had sunk her pride to telephone him, and he was just scoring points off her.
`We can leave it forever, as far as I'm concerned,' she snapped, and slammed the phone down.
After that she went through the other messages like a rotor mower. She told Mel that she w
as fine, Dave that she did not want to join him in a Press conference, and her mother that she would not get involved any more in her marital squabbles.
`What?' Judith sounded blank.
`I'm sorry, Mother,' said Candy with unprecedented briskness, 'but it's not my problem. You married him. You sort it out. Or leave him. But don't keep calling me in to referee. It's not fair, and it gets you nowhere.'
`Candy!' exclaimed her mother, shocked.
`I've been your champion for too long, Mother,' Candy went on. 'You need to stand up to him yourself. No one else can do it for you.'
`But he's so impatient with me,' wailed Judith. `Mother,' said Candy with patience, 'if you don't start
standing up for yourself, he won't be the only one.' `I'll come over for coffee,' Judith said. 'I was going
to Harrods—'
`No,' Candy interrupted firmly. 'I've got problems of my own. I need a bit of space for a while.'
`But—'
`Please, Mother.'
`You're abandoning me.' Judith's voice rose to the point of sub-hysteria, which usually had Candy backing down.
She thought of Justin's cold voice on the telephone and the warmth of his arms when he had caught her last night; which was real? She had to find out. For once her mother's dramas left her unmoved.
`No, I'm not,' she denied gently. 'But I need to sort out my own life for a bit. Not yours. Good luck, Mother. Call me in a month or so.'
And she put the phone down on disbelieving silence.
She made herself some of Jeremy's mango tea, and sat in the window seat with it. Below her the traffic roared silently, a tribute to the excellent window insulation. She looked round the flat.
It was still Justin's. Even after Jeremy's encouragement, she had not tried to change anything. Even her books were stored neatly in her own room. She had not bought a rug or a picture or a record. She had not even bought the clothes he wanted her to have.
What was it that he had said all those weeks ago? That being married should be fun? Fun! She had been proud and prickly, looking for signs that he didn't want her.
No Provocation Page 14