by Ann Charlton
The twist of jealousy knotted tighter in her chest.
She wanted the truth-all of it. No more bending it to suit her wishes. No more deceptions.
‘I suppose it was seeing her with you and Damien that started the doubts. Little ones, nothing a man in love couldn’t overlook. But as time went on she loosened the guard on her tongue. She said things to Damien that 1 didn’t like. And to you. Especially to you, because you were at the awkward age 1 remembered so well myself—when you needed praise and reassurance. Cecily showed no understanding of that. We had some fierce arguments later when 1 suggested she show you more consideration.’
‘After you were engaged?’ Teressa recalled Cecily’s tempestuous retreats to her room, the slammed doors.
‘Lovers’ quarrels’.
He sighed. ‘Yes. 1 saw then that Cecily was spoiled and selfish, and stupidly 1 imagined that, for me, she might change.’ He looked out through the black window glass. ‘I wanted to think that she would become what I wanted. I’d grown fond of Damien—and even of a rather gawky, ferocious teenager. I liked my future in-Iaws—’
‘But then you discovered she had been having an affair with another man.’
Ashe looked around sharply, an odd look in his eyes.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s not all, is it’? What else?’
After a long pause he said, ‘The man worked for Warlord. He was a working playboy on a salary and a nice little parental allowance. She met him at one of the staff functions 1 took her to. Though people think so, it isn’t easy being the boss’s son. Even then, before my father died and 1 was one of the second echelon, there was a lot of resentment. When the rumours began to circulate that my fiancee was seeing a man who worked for me…’
His pride would have been in tatters. Oh Cecily, you fool! You stupid, wonderful fool to leave him for me.
‘You didn’t tell Dad any of that because it would hurt him to know about Cecily’s infidelity.’
‘I promised not to tell because of his feelings 1 admit, more than hers. God knows 1tried to make my reasons for the break convincing without hinting at the truth, but apparently I failed.’
‘If it hadn’t been for the circumstances he never would have believed Cecily’s story. But so many people had let him down—even close friends—when he got into financial trouble. He’d already grown cynical by then.’ Teressa grew thoughtful, remembering the grey look of disillusionment on Damien’s face.
‘I wonder if knowing about Cecily’s behaviour would have hurt more than believing you had deserted us. Like me, he probably knew deep down what Cecily was like—but, like me, he loved her and fell into the trap of self-deception.’
‘I wish things could have been different.’ Ashe brought his fist down in quiet frustration on the back of the settee. ‘He was a friend, but I could hardly go on visiting the house having finished with Cecily—and anyway, Damien wouldn’t even speak to me on the phone. I see why, now. At the time I put it down to a natural antipathy for his daughter’s ex-fiance. That’s why I tried to arrange … ‘ He stopped.
‘Arrange?’
‘Some financial help for him. He was playing deep even then, still trying to gamble his way out of trouble, and no one would touch him. It was a long shot, but I tried to set something up through a contact of Dad’s.’
‘You tried to help him? He never said.’
‘My name wasn’t mentioned. After I’d tried to talk to him and he’d hung up I figured it was no use approaching him with help openly. When he found out—lord knows how—that Warlord had been involved in the deal he turned it down. It was too late anyway, Teressa. Financially he couldn’t have survived even with another shot in the arm.’
‘But if he knew that Warlord was involved, he would have realised that you had tried to help him,’ she said. ‘And then surely he would have known you couldn’t have been what he thought.’ She dug into her memory. Had Damien ever mentioned Ashe’s perfidy after those first few weeks? Initially he had, upbraiding himself for thinking he was a friend, heaping bitter quiet abuse on the man he’d wanted for his son.
And then suddenly—no more. Not a word again, she remembered, about Ashe. Just that look of acceptance about him that had hurt her so—and his eyes following Cecily, loving as always but sad with sympathy and, maybe, with something else.
‘1 think he knew,’ she said at last, and a great weight slipped from her. ‘Ashe, 1 really think he did. But as things were, he had to hold on to his picture of Cecily. Just as 1 did.’
‘Teressa—about your sister. 1 wouldn’t want to come between you. She’s not bad. But bad for me. She always complained that 1 had oldfashioned notions. and in some ways she was right—'
‘Don’t make excuses for her. Someone has done that all her life. She cheated you, and that—that’s awful. She’s selfish and irresponsible and—and in some ways, immoral. But she loves Mike enough to want to keep him and 1think she’ll be all right. And even if she doesn’t change 1 suppose I’ll love her anyway. But at least now 1love the real person and not an image I had of her.’
In the muted lamplight she saw his body relax. He stayed where he was.
‘And the image you had of me?’
‘It began to crack when 1 saw you without a stitch on. You apologised for not closing your bedroom door instead of bawling me out for snooping around in the first place.’
‘It was a revealing moment’ he agreed, and began to move towards her.
‘—then it cracked some more when you tended my burn and offered to warn Reg Stretton off any more pinching—’
‘That was nice of me. And I needed him more than he needed me then. Did 1 tell you Reg has changed jobs? He’s very anxious to be pals right now with Warlord’s managing director.’
Teressa brushed aside such irrelevancies.' —Then, it shattered on the night of the storm.’
Ashe came close to her. ‘When you seduced me.’
‘Not—entirely. ‘
‘Not for want of trying.’
‘1 must have known it was absolutely safe to try,’ she said.
‘Safe?’ he repeated in his stage-dangerous voice. ‘Safe? Don’t you know you’ll never be safe with me again?’
‘Tough guy,’ she scoffed. ‘I’m as safe as houses.’ He took her by the waist and hauled her to him and she felt deliciously unsafe as he kissed her.
‘I always knew 1 would loathe having you as a brother-in-law: she whispered. ‘But 1didn’t let myself glimpse the real reason for it.’
‘So you admit you had a crush on me then ?'
‘I suppose that’s what it was initially—it wouldn’t have lasted long if I’d known about your nickname. Men called Shirl wouldn’t have impressed me much then.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I’m impressed. Who wouldn’t be by a man who could tell that story, wear a wig and keep his machismo intact.’
‘Machismo—do 1 have any of that?’ murmured Ashe, nuzzling her neck.
‘Don’t be coy. You must know you’re about the sexiest thing in the city, Shirl.’
He groaned. ‘I have a feeling 1 could regret telling you that story.’
‘Oh, you will!’ she giggled. ‘Wait till 1 tell our children—’
‘Steady on—I haven’t proposed yet—’
‘Sorry—’
‘Marry me?’
‘Yes.’
Ashe smiled down at her, brushing back hair from her face in a tender gesture. ‘Not the most romantic of proposals.’
She sighed. ‘No. What 1really wished for was music and coloured lights and a magical, million-dollar dress for the night when you told me you loved me.’
‘Disappointed ?’
‘Wishes just can’t compare…’ Teressa threw back her head and laughed. ‘I hope this isn’t a dream—pinch me to show me it isn’t ?’
Chuckling, Ashe picked her up. ‘Poor old Reg Stretton,’ he said. ‘He’ll pinch himself to see if he’s dreaming when 1 introduce you as
Mrs Warwick.’
‘Mrs Warwick.' Teressa mused experimentally. ‘I like it.’
Ashe carried her upstairs and put her down on his fur-covered bed.
‘It’s too late for the million-dollar dress—’ he said, and left her for a moment to flick a wall switch.
Music flowed.
‘—but there’s your music.’
‘Uh-huh.’
She smiled and put her arms around his neck as he joined her on the bed. ‘And the coloured lights ?'
‘Patience, love. I’m getting to that—’