Stolen Beginnings

by Susan Lewis

  ‘I don’t know,’ she sighed. ‘It’s very kind of you, but . . .’

  ‘But what? Is it Paul? Is he the problem?’

  ‘No! No,’ she assured him.

  ‘Then what?’

  The truth at that moment was so utterly absurd that even she could hardly believe the way she was thinking. But she was afraid that if Madeleine were to meet Matthew and somehow find out how she felt about him, she would try to steal him from her. And that was the most ridiculous part of it – he wasn’t even hers to steal. ‘I’m just afraid she’ll say or do something to upset my mother.’ She looked at him and smiled brightly, then put her cup down. ‘But that’s for me to worry about.’

  ‘You can’t go around protecting people all your life, Marian. They have to fight their own battles, you know. Even your mother. And what about you?’

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘Well, who’s protecting you?’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘Me.’

  Her heart thundered to a stop and she stared at him with wide, incredulous eyes.

  He laughed. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I know you’ve got me down for the prize bastard of all time. But I guess Stephanie protects you from me – just as you’re protecting her. What kind of monster am I, I ask myself.’

  Her head was spinning, and her shoulders heaved as she tried to steady her breathing. ‘A selfish one,’ she blurted out.

  He gave a shout of laughter, then said, ‘You’re absolutely right. A bloody selfish one. But not so selfish that I won’t help you find your cousin. What on earth are you laughing at?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘You, I suppose.’

  He gave her the ironic look she’d so often seen him give Stephanie, then said, ‘You should laugh more often, Marian. It suits you. In fact,’ he went on, looking her up and down, ‘you’re looking extremely good today. Is that a new outfit?’

  ‘No,’ she answered. ‘I bought it ages ago for my first date with . . . With Paul.’

  ‘So does that mean you’re off on a date tonight?’

  ‘Yes, it does, actually. I’m going out to dinner.’

  ‘Oh? Anyone I know?’

  ‘Yes. Woody.’

  The smiled suddenly froze on his face. ‘You’re going out with Woody tonight?’ he repeated, as if to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, rather baffled by his response.

  His cup suddenly hit the draining-board and he got to his feet. ‘No!’ he said, shaking his head.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You heard me. You are not to go out with Woody.’

  ‘Yes, I did hear you, but I fail to see what business it is of yours.’

  ‘I’m making it my business, and I’m telling you you’re not to have anything to do with him outside this office. You know his reputation. You’ve only got to look at your own cousin to know . . .’

  ‘How dare you!’

  ‘I dare. He’s only after one thing, and he’ll make damned sure he gets it. You’re not going, and that’s final.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with you,’ she cried. ‘He happens to have invited me out because I was feeling low, and I resent . . .’

  ‘You can resent all you like, but I’m not having him put his hands all over you as if you were one of the tarts he picks up at Stringfellow’s. Haven’t you been hurt enough?’

  ‘What?’ And she gasped as he suddenly took her by the shoulders.

  ‘Do you want it to happen again? Because I’m telling you, if you go out with Woody, it will.’

  ‘What difference does it make to you?’ she demanded, too shocked to think clearly about what she was saying.

  ‘Not a bit,’ he snapped, then let her go abruptly.

  ‘Then why are you interfering in my life?’

  ‘Because I’ve known Woody a long time. I know what he’s like and I don’t want to see you become one of his victims. He’s married. Did you know that?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘No, I didn’t think so. He also has three children, I don’t suppose you knew that either?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘But it’s not that kind of date.’

  ‘As far as Woody’s concerned, there is only that kind of date. Now call him wherever he is, and tell him you can’t make it.’

  ‘I will not,’ she said mutinously. ‘And stop ordering me around.’

  ‘Well, someone has to. Jesus, you haven’t got a clue how many sharks there are out there, have you? If you want to cheer yourself up by going out to dinner, then you can come out with me.’

  ‘I’m going out with Woody,’ she said, hardly able to believe her ears.

  For a long time they glared at one another, then shaking his head, he turned and walked out of the door.

  The instant he’d gone Marian wanted to go after him, but instead she burst out laughing. She had no idea what that had all been about, but she was certain it was about more than her going out with Woody. And he’d actually invited her out himself – to cheer her up! – when he was scowling at her in a way that less than a month ago would have had her shaking in her shoes. Oh, Matthew Cornwall, she sighed to herself, and she had a sudden longing for him to put his arms round her and tell her everything would be all right.

  Ten minutes later Stephanie returned with Hazel Ridley, who was going to be the production manager on Disappearance. As they walked in Marian gave them a beaming smile. ‘Nice lunch?’ she enquired.

  ‘Not bad,’ Stephanie answered, ‘but obviously not as good as yours.’

  Marian laughed, then turned to Hazel whom she hadn’t actually met yet – but Hazel was casting a gloomy eye about the office.

  ‘Oh God, Steph,’ she groaned. ‘Wonderful as it is to be working with you again, I don’t know if I can take this ghastly office! I mean, really.’

  Stephanie winked at Marian, then folding her arms, she leaned against the door while Hazel poked around and scattered complaints in a voice that was almost unbearably shrill. ‘It’s so pokey,’ she said, ‘I mean, how are we all going to fit in here once we get under way?’

  ‘It’s all just as it used to be,’ Stephanie said, ‘except for our new secretary. Marian, meet Hazel Ridley. You two are going to be sharing this ghastly office.’

  ‘Hello, Hazel,’ Marian said. ‘It’s really nice to meet you. Stephanie’s told me all about you.’

  Hazel, an ex-debutante from the crown of her impeccable short hair to the tips of her perfectly shod feet, treated Marian to a withering look. ‘This is going to be fun,’ she said, after a pause that embarrassed both Marian and Stephanie. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to shove all your stuff back into your corner,’ she told Marian. ‘Well, I mean, you do seem to have spread out a bit, don’t you? I’ll set myself up over by the window, can’t bear not having enough light. Now, how about you making a nice cup of tea, Maz, and Steph and I can carry on with our little chat.’

  Stephanie threw ‘Maz’ an apologetic look as she left the office, but Marian merely shrugged and went off to do Hazel’s bidding.

  When she came back some five minutes later, it was to find Hazel sitting in her chair, feet on the desk, telling Stephanie about some ‘unspeakably appalling’ occurrence in the royal enclosure at Ascot that year. She carried on speaking as Marian put her tea in front of her, and didn’t even pause to say thank you. ‘. . . Anyway,’ she was saying, ‘the ghastly girl told me to fuck awf. Can you imagine? And it was she who had sat on my hat. I wouldn’t have minded, except that I found out later – as we all did – that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. I tell you, Steph, it quite turned my stomach. I shall never be able to wear the hat again and it cost me an absolute fortune.’ As Stephanie laughed, she smiled grudgingly, then picked up her cup. One mouthful of tea was enough. ‘Oh! Yuk!’ she gulped. Then turning to Marian, ‘This isn’t Earl Grey. I asked for Earl Grey.’

  Marian looked at Stephanie. ‘As a matter of fact, you didn’t,’ Stephanie said. �
�But we’ll get some.’ Again she threw an apologetic look at Marian.

  Fractionally appeased, Hazel went on. ‘Apart from that, the day was quite a hoot really. Oh, and guess who else I saw there? Roland “I direct movies” Kirk. He simply couldn’t believe it when I told him you’d got Matthew Cornwall to direct your film, he’s absolutely livid, darling. I mean, green isn’t the word. It was as much as he could do to be polite to the Queen Ma – but then he won an absolute packet on one of the old girl’s trotters, so that cheered him up a bit.’

  ‘How is Roland?’ Stephanie laughed.

  ‘Oh, yawnsville as ever. But, enough about all that. What I want to know is, where’s the delicious Matthew? Didn’t I hear somewhere that you and he had a thing going once, before your glory days?’

  Marian saw the warmth seep from Stephanie’s smile as she answered. ‘At the moment I’ve no idea where he is, but I’m sure he’ll turn up when it suits him.’ She was longing to ask Marian if he’d called again, but that could wait until later.

  ‘He’s not still with that gruesomely ghastly wife of his, is he?’ Hazel shuddered. ‘I don’t think I could . . .’

  ‘No, he’s not with her now,’ Stephanie interrupted, and Hazel’s expression turned to one of pure rapture.

  ‘So the field’s clear? Oh, this is going to be bliss. I’ve had my eye on him for simply ages. Who wouldn’t, with a body like that?’

  Stephanie looked at Marian, then mumbling something about having to return phone calls, she excused herself and went upstairs to her office. Hazel got up and walked round the desk. ‘The first thing we’ve got to get in here is another fan,’ she told Marian, using her handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her neck. ‘Never going to stand a chance of pulling old Matthew if I look like this, am I? Get him on the phone for me, will you? I think I’ll have a chat with him now, no point in wasting time, is there.’

  ‘He’s not at the end of a phone at the moment,’ Marian answered stiffly.

  Hazel lifted her head and glared down the length of her perfect nose. ‘I’m given to understand you’ve never worked on a film before,’ she said, ‘so perhaps I should point out that in this business it helps if everyone knows their place. I only say this so that we know where we stand from the beginning. Do we have that clear?’ And she gave Marian the most condescending smile Marian had ever seen.

  Her face was crimson as she nodded.

  ‘Now, if you can let me have a copy of all you’ve got on Olivia Hastings,’ Hazel continued, ‘I’ll be on my way.’

  Marian handed over a file. ‘I’ve got more here that needs typing,’ she said. ‘Would you like me to send it to you when it’s ready?’

  ‘No, I’ll collect it.’ Hazel zipped up her shoulder bag. ‘Sorry if I sounded a bit harsh, Maz, but most of us have worked damned hard to get where we are; you’ve come up the easy way because Stephanie has a kind heart. Don’t abuse it. Now, just one other thing; Matthew’s telephone number, please.’

  Marian jotted it down on a piece of paper and handed it over, saying: ‘I’ll have the office sorted out by the next time you come in. And, of course, some Earl Grey tea. If there’s anything else you can think of that you might want, just let me know.’

  Hazel waved the piece of paper. ‘Good girl. I can see we’re going to get along just fine. Have to get things straight early on, don’t you think? Saves any unpleasantness later. Ciao for now – if Matthew calls, tell him I’ll be in touch very soon.’ And she breezed out of the office.

  Marian watched her pass the window, then once she was out of sight, she closed the newspaper Matthew had left on her desk and grinned. That’s what you think, she muttered, then chuckling to herself, she went upstairs to see Stephanie.

  A yellowy warm glow from the lamp-post outside fell across the tangled sheets lying in a heap on the floor. Every now and again, as a car passed, the beam from its headlights lit up the room, and for those few short seconds the shadows across their bodies disappeared. The room was quiet, but only moments ago, as they’d reached the zenith of their passion, Stephanie had thrashed wildly beneath him, almost screaming with the power of her climax. Now, with his hands locked behind her head, Matthew raised himself on his elbows and looked down into her face. Her hair was dishevelled and her cheeks flushed with colour. His eyes darkened and he lowered his head to kiss her lingeringly on the mouth, moving his hips gently back and forth and feeling her orgasm slowly subside around him.

  ‘Oh God, Matthew,’ she groaned.

  He pushed his tongue deep into her mouth and she responded by sliding her hands down over his buttocks.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ he muttered, as he felt himself growing hard again. Her eyes held his, and as her legs circled his waist she ran her hands over his shoulders, then wound her fingers through his hair. ‘I can feel you,’ she murmured, ‘I can feel all of you deep inside me.’

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ he breathed, pushing in and out of her with long, lazy strokes.

  ‘I love you. Oh, Matthew, keep doing that. Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.’

  He pushed his hands against the bed, raising himself until he was only just inside her. Then, when her eyes fluttered open, he slammed into her, hard.

  ‘Oh, Matthew,’ she cried.

  He did it again – and again, watching her face, and holding himself back until she was ready for more.

  ‘Now,’ she moaned, ‘do it now,’ and as every muscle in his body started to tense he wrapped her in his arms and hammered into her until they were both gasping for breath.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she cried, ‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’ And as the final seed of his climax shuddered from his body, his mouth found hers and he kissed her with such savagery that he could taste her blood on his lips.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, but she put her arms round his neck and pulled him down to kiss her again.

  ‘I didn’t know that was possible,’ she murmured. ‘I mean, a man coming twice like that.’

  He laughed, and pulling gently away from her, rolled onto his back. ‘Depends who he’s with,’ he said, not without irony, and lifted an arm for her to nestle in the crook of his shoulder.

  They lay quietly for a while, each with his own thoughts, while Beethoven’s third concerto wafted gently up to them from the flat downstairs. Eventually Stephanie got up and went to get the wine they’d left on the table in the sitting-room. He watched her go, entranced by the grace with which she moved. With her small breasts, long, slender legs and tiny waist, she could have been a ballerina.

  When she came back into the room he had an arm across his eyes, but lifted it as she said, ‘You’re very quiet.’

  ‘Mm. Just thinking.’

  ‘What about?’

  He smiled. ‘As a matter of fact, Marian.’

  Stephanie sat on the edge of the bed and combed her fingers through the hair on his chest. ‘She told me about your conversation at lunchtime, if that’s what you mean.’

  He chuckled. ‘What did she say exactly – I mean, that made you call me?’

  ‘That,’ she said, squashing his nose with her finger, ‘is between Marian and me.’ She handed him a glass of wine, then lay back in his arms. ‘You know, you should have told me about Samantha, I would have understood.’

  ‘I would have told you, if you’d stopped to listen.’

  She giggled. ‘Did it hurt much when I slapped you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So you should be.’

  She turned to kiss his arm. ‘Well, thanks to Marian everything’s all right now.’

  ‘You know, I can’t fathom that girl at all,’ he said. ‘She used to be so unassertive it practically drove me out of my mind, but now it’s as if she’s gone through some kind of metamorphosis. Take Kathleen, for instance. God only knows what Marian said to her that day, but she’s been a different woman since.’

  ‘Are you complaining?’

  ‘Not in the least. I’m just curious to know what Marian sa
id to bring about such a transformation.’

  ‘Mm,’ Stephanie said thoughtfully. ‘My guess is that Marian didn’t say anything at all. She’s more of a listener. But there are ways and ways of listening, and whichever way is the right one, she’s got it.’

  ‘You know, there are times when she gives me the impression that she’s wiser than all of us put together. She made me feel a proper fool today. I take it she told you how I over-reacted about Woody?’

  ‘Yes,’ Stephanie chuckled, ‘she did.’

  ‘And even after that she still persuaded you into returning my call?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t she?’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, I was a bit heavy-handed with her, and there’s no doubt she considers you to be better off without me.’ He paused to take a sip of wine. ‘She’s quite a girl, really, don’t you think?’

  ‘Do you want me to say I told you so?’

  ‘If you must.’ And they laughed.

  ‘Poor Marian,’ Stephanie sighed a little while later. ‘No sooner does she make friends with you than along comes Hazel Ridley. A couple of months ago she’d have gone to pieces over what happened with Hazel this afternoon, but not now, the wily old thing. When Hazel demanded your number Marian gave her the number of some dating agency – and don’t ask me how she came to have it to hand, because I didn’t enquire.’

  He was laughing. ‘So old Haze is back on the warpath, is she? I’d better warn Woody. The last time he had a run-in with her, he thought he was going back to her place for beans on toast. He emerged three days later looking thirty years older, and all we could get out of him for the next week was “never again”. Has he ever told you what he calls her?’

  Stephanie shook her head.

  ‘Hazel “cracks your nuts” Ridley.’

  She burst out laughing. ‘Trust Woody. Anyway, whatever she does to the male anatomy she’s damned good at her job, and that’s all that concerns me. To quote her, she’s opened more doors than Jackie Onassis has cheque books, and when it comes to organising and administering a budget she makes the rest of us look like amateurs. So I’m afraid Woody will have to look out for himself. It’s Marian I’m worried about. I don’t want Hazel driving her off. She’s already proving quite a gem, and if she carries on like this she’ll become indispensible.’