Anne had had enough. She didn’t care what he thought he was doing, but, whatever it was, she had no intention of witnessing it one second more. She’d already paid for the Scotch, so was stuck with it, but all she wanted now was to get out of there.
“Jerry,” she said. Then, when he didn’t answer her, she called more loudly. “Jerry!”
His head came around at last and he gave her a blank look, as though wondering who in the world she was. “Yes? What is it?”
“If you’ve finished your business with the car, I’m ready to leave. I just have to pick up the shopping at the store.”
He gave her an abstracted nod. “All right. I’ll meet you out in front and give you a lift home.” He turned back to Linda. “I also have to pick up my things. Anne very kindly let me stay at her place, but I’ve overstayed my welcome, I’m sure. Do you suppose your parents could give me a room at the hotel?”
Anne brushed past them and stalked off down the street. What a disgusting display! Not two hours after he’d been trying to sweet-talk her into an affair, he’d come on to a girl half his age. Well, maybe not half, but years younger. And he was the one who had been so worried about her being hung up on an older man!
The Land Rover was parked in front of the grocery store, and by the time she’d stowed her bags in the back seat she had calmed down enough to wonder what in the world had made her fly into such a rage. Granted, it was a flagrant, disgusting display, but what was it to her? He was the kind of man who had to try to make love to every attractive woman who came along, especially if she was blonde, and she’d been a
fool to imagine his feelings for her were anything but more of the same.
She sat in the front seat waiting for him for a good five minutes, until finally he came ambling down the street toward her, the luscious Linda by his side. His dark head was bent down toward her, and she was looking up into his face, laughing. The knife twisted again inside Anne at the sight.
I’m jealous, Anne thought with a sudden blinding flash of revelation. Jealous of a man like Jerry! She should be congratulating herself on her narrow escape! And she’d imagined he could change! She’d actually been on the verge of falling in love with the rat! Thank heaven she’d come to her senses in time.
The ride back to her house was a silent one. She glanced over at him from time to time, and the pleased look of smug satisfaction on his face only strengthened her determination to get him out of her mind, out of her heart, out of her life, for good.
“So,” she said, breaking the silence. “You’ve decided to stay on after all.”
He shrugged. “Well, it’d be a shame to miss the party as long as I’m here. It’s Thursday, after ail-almost the weekend. No point in going back just yet.”
“And I take it you’ll be moving to the hotel today?”
He nodded. “I think so. I’ve imposed on you long enough.”
“Linda’s a beautiful girl, isn’t she?” she asked sweetly.
He smiled. “Yes, she is.”
“Blonde, too.”
“Yes, she is that.”
“A little young for you, don’t you think?”
His jaw tightened and he flicked her a quick sideways glance. “Isn’t that rather like the pot calling the kettle black? If you will recall, your May-and- December romance with Ben Poole has been the subject of more than one heated discussion. It seems to me you were pretty anxious to defend the concept when it was something you wanted.”
It was almost as though he was throwing her at Ben. From the beginning he’d simply assumed there was something romantic between them. She was almost beginning to believe it herself. Perhaps Jerry had been wiser on that subject than she’d realized. Dear Ben so stable, so sensible, so real Let Jerry have his little fling with Linda. It wouldn’t last any longer than all the others.
“All right,” she said at last. “I’ll give you that. But what about the story?”
“There’s enough for you to finish on your own. It was darned good work, Anne, and will make a fine feature article. I thought I’d use it in the January issue. All we really need now is to get some pictures, and I have every confidence you can talk him into it.”
“Well, all I can do is try.”
They had reached the house by now. Jerry helped her carry in the groceries, and while she was putting them away in the kitchen she could hear him back in her father’s bedroom packing his things. When she came to the bottle of Scotch, she hastily took it out of its wrapper, and was just about to stow it away on the top shelf of the cupboard so he wouldn’t see it, when she suddenly heard him come in.
She turned around, the incriminating bottle still in her hand, to see him standing in the doorway, his
Typewriter case in his hand. He came walking slowly toward her.
“You’ll probably be needing this,” he said, raising the case. Then he raised his eyes. “What’s that?”
She laughed nervously. “Oh, since there really wasn’t anything here fit to drink, I thought I’d re-plenish the liquor supply.”
“I see.”
He held her gaze in his for a long moment, frowning slightly, as though wanting to say something but not quite able to get the words out. Then he raised a hand toward her, and she suddenly knew that if she gave him the slightest sign of encouragement they could pick up again where they’d left off. She was even tempted. But just in time she thought about the way he’d fallen all over Linda, and her pride wouldn’t let her bend.
She shoved the bottle in the cupboard and closed the door. “Besides,” she said, turning back to him, “Ben likes Scotch.” This was a flagrant lie, since Ben didn’t drink at all, but she had to think of something. In no circumstances did she want Jerry to know she’d bought it for him.
His lips tightened into a grim smile. “Of course. We must do everything in our power to please Ben, mustn’t we?”
A sharp retort, a reminder of his own feckless beŹhavior, was on her lips, but she let it die. What was the point? There was no future for her with Jerry. She’d been a fool ever to imagine there might be. It was better this way.
After he had stowed his gear in the Land Rover, said a curt goodbye and driven off, she ran directly to the telephone to call Ben. At the first sound of that
deep reassuring voice, all thoughts of Jerry Bannister and his checkered love life fled her mind.
“If you’re not too busy, Ben, I’d like to come over to your place after lunch and show you the story. Remember, you have the right of approval. We won’t print one word you object to.”
“It’s finished, then?” he asked. “That was quick work.”
“All except the pictures. How do you feel about my taking some photographs? Or maybe you already have some we could use.”
“I don’t know, Anne. Let me think about it.”
“Then it’s all right if I come over?”
“Of course. I’m always delighted to see you, you know that. Why don’t you come for lunch? I made a big bowl of chilli last night, and you can help me make a dent in it. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful. I’ve always loved your chilli, Ben.”
“Well, why not come right away, then?”
They ate lunch in the studio. When they were finŹished, Anne got out the camera and snapped some photographs of his work and the interior of the studio, which was all he’d agreed to. “Nothing personal,” he’d said. “Just about the work.”
While she worked, Ben read over the story, and when he’d finished he handed the manuscript back to her. “This is fine, Anne,” he said. “Very flattering, in fact. I’ll probably even get a few sales out of it.” He laughed. “Although I’m still not sure how I got talked into it. That Jerry of yours is quite a salesman.”
“He’s not ‘my’ Jerry at all, Ben,” she said with a frown. “And I’ve been most anxious to explain that whole business to youyou know, why he was there when you came over the other day.”
He held up a hand. “You don’t need to ex
plain anything to me, Anne. I’m just glad you’ve found someone.”
She shook her head vigorously. “No! It’s not like that! Please believe me, Ben, Jerry is only my boss. Nothing more. I didn’t want him to stay. In fact I didn’t even know he’d come to the island, but I couldn’t very well turn him out when he showed up, with no way back to the hotel.”
“I see. Then you and he are not…?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“All right. If you say so. I can see you’d rather not talk about it.” Suddenly he stepped back a pace and gave her a long close look, eyeing her carefully, exŹamining her face as though trying to memorize it. “I’d like to paint you, Anne,” he said at last. “You have a fresh loveliness that would make a fine portrait-all that wonderful coloring, with your dark hair and fair skin.” He put a hand on her cheek and turned her head slightly. “A three-quarter pose, I think. How about it? Would you have time to sit for me?”
He was so dear to her, so comforting, a great bear of a man whose very presence made the world seem like a safer place, and so unlike men like Jerry, who had to make everything into a game, to keep women off-balance with their clever talk and one-track minds.
She’d always loved Ben, but, except for that old adolescent crush, had never really thought about him in a romantic waynot until Jerry began harping on the subject. Not only had he been deeply in love with his wife, but he’d always thought of Anne as a little girl, a child. Somehow she’d have to make him see that she was a woman now, a woman who had the
power to make him happy again. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. It was now or never.
“Ben,” she said in a rush, “have you ever thought of marrying again?”
He gave her a startled look and his brow creased in a frown. “No. Never. It’s never even crossed my mind. Why do you ask?” Then he smiled. “Anne, you’re not still interviewing me, are you? Remember, you promised, nothing personal.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Of course not. It was only aa rhetorical question, an old friend’s natural curiosity.” Come on, she goaded herself, get on with it. “No, that’s not true.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, I had a more personal reason for asking.”
“I don’t understand.” He was clearly perplexed at her roundabout meandering.
“II guess what I really want to know,” she said haltingly, “is whether you’ve ever thought of me that way.” She fluttered her hands in a nervous gesture. “You know, the way a man feels about a woman.”
As the light dawned, his eyes flew open and he acŹtually moved back a step, just as though he’d been struck. He stared at her, openmouthed, then turned and walked over to his worktable. He stood there with his back to her for several seconds, while she waited, hardly daring to breathe.
Slowly he turned around, his expression grave. “Anne,” he said in a low voice. “What can I say?”
“Just tell me the truth, Ben,” she replied shakily. “That’s all I ask. I’m not asking you to make any promises, or even give me any hope. I know how you’ve grieved for Victoria. And maybe there never will be another woman in your life.” She knew she was saying too much, but now that it was out at last
she couldn’t stop herself. “But if you let me, Ben, maybe I can make you forget your pain, or at least diminish it.”
He shook his head slowly from side to side, then came over to stand before her. He put his hands on her shoulders and gazed down into her eyes.
“Anne, I don’t know what to say. I’ve loved you all your life, you know that. To me you’ve always been the lovely daughter we never had. But it never
entered my head” He broke off, shook his head
again and let his hands drop.
“I understand,” she assured him hastily. “You don’t have to say anything more.” She stumbled over the chair by the door where she’d left her jacket, and started struggling into it. “I’ll be going now,” she said. She couldn’t look at him. “Maybe I’ll see you again before I leave.”
Her hand was on the door, ready to open it and run, when his voice cut through the stillness like a knife. “Anne!”
She turned around slowly to see him coming toward her. “Yes?” she said in a small voice.
He was smiling down at her. “I didn’t say I didn’t like the idea, only that such a thing never occurred to me. You’ll have to give me some time to digest it.”
She nodded wordlessly.
“I’ll tell you what,” he went on. “Why don’t we go to that party together tomorrow night? If it’s a nice night we can walk. Otherwise I can probably borrow Patrick’s Land Rover or Carl’s jeep and drive out to get you. Then we can talk again. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” she said. “It sounds just fine.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ANNE spent the next morning revising her story and typing it up in final form. Tonight she’d leave it at the hotel for Jerry, along with the roll of film she’d snapped. He could have it developed and let the art department decide which shots they wanted to use.
It was another fine day. Although there had been frost on the ground that morning, it had melted by noon. As she worked, her mind kept wandering. She’d find herself gazing out of the window at the pale sunŹshine, half expecting to see Jerry, or listening for the sound of his footsteps in the house.
But Jerry was gone, she would remind herself sternly, hot on the trail of the first blonde to come along. She’d been a fool to imagine he could change or ever had been seriously interested in her. She couldn’t compete with those long-legged beauties of his.
And tonight she’d see Ben. He was the important man in her life now, a man who made her feel safe, cared for, protected. Although he’d obviously been shocked at her suggestion that they might be more than friends, he hadn’t rejected the idea outright.
After lunch she made another halfhearted attempt to clear out her father’s desk and go through his papers, but after fifteen minutes gave it up as a hopeless cause.
Late that afternoon she went outside to check around the foundations for signs of flood damage
from the recent torrential rains. The house was built on high enough ground so that there was no actual danger, but water did tend to collect in the low spots and had been known in the past to seep into the crawl space underneath the house.
When she came to the backyard, the first thing her eye fell on was the huge old cedar stump where Jerry had chopped the wood for her. Behind it, under cover of the lean-to attached to the barn, was a neat stack of logs, with the ax and the heavy gloves he’d worn laid on top.
Although she’d done her best to put all thoughts of him out of her mind, now, at this reminder of him, she found herself wondering how the little affair with Linda had progressed by now. Probably quite a way, considering what she’d seen in the general store at their first meeting. Immediately a vision rose up in her mind of Jerry and the lovely blonde, standing close together, their arms intertwined, kissing…
No! she thought. She must not even think such thoughts. It was nothing to her what they did. She turned away hastily from the woodpile and made tracks for the other side of the house. What happened between her and Jerry had been a dream, a fairy tale. Ben was the reality. He was the kind of man she wanted, and in just a few short hours she would see him again.
She shivered, suddenly cold, and looked up to see that the sky had started to cloud over again. It looked as if there was more rain on the way. Soon a few tenŹtative drops began to fall, and she ran inside the house just as the telephone started to ring.
It was Ben. “I just called to tell you that I arranged to borrow Patrick’s Land Rover tonight. It seems we’re in for more rain after all.”
“Yes, I know. I was just outside when it started.”
There was a short silence. Anne waited, wondering if he’d come to any conclusions about their talk.
“Well, I just thought I’d let you know,” he said at last. “I’ll be by around seven o’c
lock, if that’s all right.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll be ready.”
After she hung up she stared down at the telephone for some time, frowning. It had been a disappointing conversation, much too brief, and nothing of a perŹsonal nature in it. He’d sounded so distant, so formal, so unlike their old easy camaraderie.
At six o’clock she made herself a bowl of soup. There was always so much to eat at the village parties that there was no point in having a real dinner beforehand.
After her bath she went through the clothes she’d brought with her, trying to decide what to wear. The locals tended to dress up for these affairs, but since she hadn’t intended to stay long she could find nothing even remotely resembling a party dress. The skirt to her black suit might do. She could wear the white silk blouse with it, and her pearl earrings. But the blouse needed washing and she didn’t have time. Ben would be here in half an hour. Why didn’t that thought cheer her up?
Dressed in half-slip and bra, she stared glumly into the mirror over her dresser. What a sight! Her shoulders were slumped forward in defeat, her eyes glazed, her brow furrowed. Her hair, still damp from her recent shampoo, hung in limp strands around her
pale face, and she had nothing to wear. At this point she didn’t even want to go!
But she knew she had to go. There was no way out of it at this late date. It struck her then that if Jerry had stayed on in hot pursuit of Linda he’d most likely be at the party. She couldn’t let him see her looking so shabby! With his ego he’d think she was pining away for him!
Then she had a sudden inspiration. She ran into the bedroom her parents had shared, went straight to the huge walk-in closet and flung open the door. On one side were the few things of her father’s that were still left hanging. On the other, far in the back, just as she’d hoped, were some old dresses of her mother’s.
She pulled out the four closest and laid them on the bed, then stood back, examining them carefully. She’d be ten years out of style, but that wouldn’t matterso were the rest of the women on the island. There were two dresses that might work, and one in particular caught her eyea lovely sea green silk with a bluish tinge to it that was just the color of her eyes, as it had been her mother’s.
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