The Tender Flame

Home > Other > The Tender Flame > Page 7
The Tender Flame Page 7

by Anne Saunders


  ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea. And something to eat. You must be hungry after your journey.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s most thoughtful, but unnecessary. I arrived quite a bit earlier. You weren’t in, so I thought I might as well kill a bit of time by going out for a meal.’

  His brusque manner was beginning to set her teeth on edge. ‘I’m sorry you had a tedious wait.’

  The sarcastic inflection in her voice did not go unnoticed and was acknowledged in the supercilious lift of an eyebrow. ‘Did I give that impression? I have spent a most delightful and diverting evening in the company of a young lady of your acquaintance. She was on the doorstep when I got here. Apparently she was there at your invitation. An amazingly tolerant and good-natured girl, I thought. I wouldn’t have been so nice if I’d been ditched because a more attractive proposition cropped up.’

  A girl would have a hard task to find a more attractive proposition than this cool, arrogant, unfairly handsome man. But that wasn’t the issue.

  ‘Someone waiting here, you say? Now who could that be?’

  ‘Did you stand up more than one person?’

  ‘I didn’t stand anybody up.’ Why did he always put her in the wrong? ‘If you mean Sylvia Friers, I didn’t ask her round, she invited herself.’

  ‘And so you felt justified in being out when she came. Weren’t you just a little concerned that she was trailing all that way for nothing?’

  ‘But it wasn’t for nothing, was it?’ Jan said obstreperously. ‘She got you.’ And if she knew Sylvia, she thought bitterly, she would make the most of it. ‘You two should have got along famously. You are so alike.’

  ‘Knowing your opinion of me, that is hardly complimentary to your friend. Shame on you, Jan. She spoke glowingly of you.’

  Jan hissed sharply: ‘She would.’ It was infuriating and laughable, but in this man’s presence her temper was set permanently at flash-point. The moment he entered the room she was in, her sweet and placid nature flew out of the window and she said all manner of nasty uncharitable things that were completely out of character.

  With immaculate calm he said: ‘If you mutilate that letter much more, you won’t be able to read it.’

  ‘It’s from my mother,’ she said.

  ‘Oh lord. I’d forgotten you had parents.’ His lovely calm had received a sharp jolt. His eyes swept up to the ceiling. ‘I can understand your not being in a great hurry to read it because you’ll have caught up with all the news. I am urgently reminded of the fact that at any moment an irate father could burst in, demanding an explanation.’

  ‘An explanation? I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Well, we have been kicking up a bit of a rumpus, so he might come down initially to complain about the noise. Then he will take one look at you, and as fathers of daughters are said to be biased, he’ll link your raging temper with your dishevelled appearance and arrive at the natural conclusion that you put up a fight. And from what I saw, you weren’t objecting. If you had been, I would have moved in pretty quickly and taken it out of his hide.’

  So he had seen. Trust him to arrive at the crucial moment. His reaction was startling. Would he really have come to her defence? His interpretation of the scene was less pleasing, but predictable. She had let Martin paw her for the most praiseworthy of reasons. But to an onlooker it would have seemed grubby and sordid.

  ‘It wasn’t as it looked, David.’

  ‘I’m not questioning your boyfriend’s right to take liberties. I’m merely saying . . .’

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend, at least he was but he isn’t any more. And he wasn’t taking liberties, at least he was, but it wasn’t . . . Oh, what’s the use! I can’t explain and even if I could you wouldn’t understand because you know nothing about standing by people when they’ve been knocked to the ground, and friendship and loyalties, and understanding them when they go off course.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to lecture you. I haven’t the right to. I was attempting to point out that your father is going to look at you, and I’m going to get the blame. In which case,’ he said sadly, ‘his opinion of me would just about coincide with yours.’

  She regretted being so brutal to him. It would have helped if he’d lashed a few angry words back at her . . . instead of looking at her with eyes of hurt.

  She gulped and challenged: ‘Have you ever given me cause to have a better opinion of you?’

  ‘I reckon not.’

  ‘And you’re not about to rectify that?’

  ‘You ask an awful lot of questions, Jan. May I ask one?’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Do you think that anything I could say would reform your opinion of me?’

  ‘According to Linda, yes.’

  ‘But at the back of your mind you think Linda is biased, don’t you? I mean you, what do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  And then she did something totally unexpected. She raised up on tiptoe and with total deliberation and absorption, she kissed him on the mouth. His arms started to come up and for a moment she thought he was going to return her tender impulse, but he must have changed his mind because his arms returned to his sides. Feeling rebuffed, her chin dropped in acute embarrassment. Apparently, her mother’s letter had fallen from her hand and she saw it looking up at her from the carpet. She swooped down to retrieve it and, glad for something to do, tore open the envelope and tried to bring into focus her mother’s large script which blurred before the silly moistness in her eyes. Even though she was inwardly quaking, her fingers were remarkably steady and didn’t give her away.

  She hoped, if David thought anything, that he would think she was a slow reader.

  At length she said with what she hoped would pass for a laugh, ‘My parents have gone to stay with some friends. Listen to this bit of irony. In her letter my mother says that when they get back at the end of this week, she hopes I might find the time to pay a visit home.’

  ‘You mean they’re not in bed?’

  ‘No. I’m here by myself.’

  ‘Nice to know that somebody’s on my side in something. I’m glad I don’t have to face your father. At least not just at this moment. How long will it take you to pack your suitcase?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Don’t be so exasperating. You must know I’ve come to fetch you back.’

  ‘That’s a bit cheeky. After that demonstration of absurd male reasoning. How am I supposed to know?’

  ‘Because it’s obvious. You surely didn’t think I came all this way for the dubious pleasure of quarrelling with you?’

  ‘Why?’ she said, and saw his expression flicker to disbelief then back to irritation. ‘I don’t mean why is it obvious,’ she said with a touch of irritation of her own, ‘I’ve decided to let that one pass. I mean why have you come to fetch me?’

  His expression now inclined to sheepishness. His voice was wry. ‘I’ll grant you the last laugh. I hadn’t reckoned with Stephanie, had I? I must hand it to your sex. At a very early age you discover the importance of sticking together. When she discovered that you’d gone, she started to scream her head off. She won’t eat. When she’s not screaming she’s crying. When she’s not screaming or crying, she’s asleep.’

  ‘Oh, my poor little pet. Where is she now? Who have you left her with?’

  ‘I dumped her on Linda and Hugh. Hopefully she’s tucked up and fast asleep in the spare bedroom. But knowing Stephanie, I can’t guarantee that. Your poor little pet is one horribly spoilt brat.’

  ‘According to you, I am responsible for spoiling her. If I’m so unsuitable, why come to take me back? We both know this tantrum of hers can only last so long. You’ve only to stand firm, and she would come round to the new order of things.’

  ‘You don’t take prisoners, do you? So you were right. I acted too hastily when I dismissed you. It was too soon after losing her mother and yes, she was clinging to you as some sort of safe anchor. I still think children need auth
ority to make them feel safe. All spoiling does is give them a false set of values and a feeling of insecurity. She’ll come round to me. But right at this moment it’s you she wants. How’s that for grovelling? Does that satisfy you, or do you want me to go down on my knees and beg you to come back with me?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll get my things together.’

  ‘No.’ He touched her arm. ‘On second thoughts, the morning will do. You look all in. Get a good night’s sleep. We’ll make a start straight after breakfast in the morning.’

  Oh no! Please don’t go tender on me, she thought. If you do, I’ll cry, and we should both hate that.

  ‘What about you? Where will you sleep?’

  ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll book into a hotel.’

  ‘At this time of night? I’ll make the bed up in the spare room.’

  His smile was unaccustomedly boyish. ‘I was hoping you’d say that. Oh, and . . . er . . . I’m sorry if I was a bit frosty earlier on.’

  Perhaps he’d been hanging about outside longer than she’d imagined. He could have been sitting in one of the parked cars. When you are waiting for someone, five minutes can seem like an hour.

  ‘That’s all right,’ she said generously. ‘I can understand why.’

  What could she possibly have said wrong in that? she wondered as she saw the frost forming again.

  ‘Good grief! You can’t believe that. That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard. I couldn’t care less.’

  ‘That’s splendid. I don’t know what you’re going on about. I was expressing sympathy in case you’d had a long wait. And now I’ll go and see about your bed.’

  While she was about it, she hunted out a pair of her father’s pyjamas.

  She flung them at him. ‘As my father is about six inches smaller than you are, they’ll look a bit ludicrous. You can take them or leave them.’

  ‘I’ll leave them, thank you.’ A renegade twinkle came to his eye. ‘Remember to knock when you bring in my early morning tea.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Curled up in bed, only her body quiescent, her thoughts were racing. It hadn’t been easy for David to come for her and as he said, the last laugh was hers. Only she didn’t feel like laughing.

  She was roused by someone shaking her shoulder.

  ‘Come on, Jan! Wake up, won’t you!’

  She didn’t want to wake up. In her dream David was bending over her, calling her name with such sweet urgency, and she didn’t want to snap back to reality.

  She opened her eyes, and it really was David bending over her.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she said, struggling up on to her elbow.

  ‘Are you expecting anybody?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ve news for you. You’ve got visitors. A blue car has just pulled up, and a grey-haired man and a small, fairish woman have just got out of it.’

  ‘Mum and Dad.’

  ‘With my luck, that’s exactly what I expected you to say.’ He wore the same shirt and trousers he had worn last night, but he looked less debonair without the jacket and with an unshaven chin. ‘I’ll go and put a tie on for the hanging,’ he said.

  She collapsed back on to her pillow in a fit of giggles. ‘Don’t look so worried, David. I’ll have a word with Dad. And if all else fails, you’re bigger than he is.’

  ‘Thank you for nothing. No girl is going to speak up for me. I’ll square it with Dad myself. There is something you could do for me, though.’

  ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘Could you manage to look about twelve years old?’

  Jan had always known what particularly nice parents she had and that she held a very special place in their hearts. Their trust in her was endorsed by their unruffled acceptance of David’s presence, before David put them in the picture.

  They accepted the sacking and the urgent reinstatement as a matter of course. Her mother spoke for both of them when she said it was lucky they’d had to come back earlier than intended. Not so lucky for their friends because a small domestic crisis had made it necessary. ‘Their eldest son is wrestling with a new marriage and Mum has been sent for to act as mediator. I think she’s making a mistake in going, young people should sort it out themselves, but that’s beside the point. It’s given us the chance to see Jan, even if briefly, and more important still, the opportunity of meeting you, Professor Spedding.’

  It had been dawning on Jan for some minutes that her parents, her father in particular, had recognised David from somewhere and—well—seemed to be deferring to him almost as if he was somebody special.

  Her father confirmed this by saying: ‘I didn’t realise that Jan’s employer was the David Spedding. I saw you on television a good while back, two years ago and probably nearer three, and I was most impressed by your views and—what shall I call it?—a certain outspokenness. You must find your work extremely rewarding. It must be gratifying to know that what you are finding out today will benefit the general public tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m afraid my particular field of research has more hazards than high spots. But I like what I’m doing, and it’s a lucky man who can say that.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, Professor Spedding.’

  David tugged at his ear. ‘Do you think you can both call me David?’

  Her father replied earnestly: ‘I think we can manage that. But you must return the compliment. We’d like to be Muriel and John to you. That right, my love?’

  ‘Yes.’ Two dimples found their way into the smile her mother gave David. ‘We’re a family without formalities. Can I get you another cup of tea, David?’

  ‘Yes please, Muriel.’ David’s return smile told Jan that he was as enchanted with her mother as she was with him. ‘Jan.’

  His voice broke through her thoughts. ‘Sorry, what was it, David?’

  ‘I was just saying that if you’ve finished your breakfast, you ought to see about packing your suitcase. We don’t want to be late.’

  Parental eyebrows that had not so much as quavered over events which could not by any stretch of the imagination be called everyday, lifted at the speed with which she went to do his bidding. Oh well, it was too late to slow her step now.

  When she came downstairs again, it was to find her mother flitting between the dining room and the kitchen, straightening and tidying and generally putting her house back in order.

  ‘Where are David and Dad?’

  ‘In the lounge. No, you mustn’t join them. Your father wants to say something to David.’

  Jan didn’t like the sound of that. ‘What about?’

  ‘I don’t know, dear.’

  ‘I hope Dad isn’t being silly.’

  ‘Funny, that’s what he says about you.’

  ‘It’s just a job, Mum.’

  ‘One that doesn’t require your hard-earned qualifications.’

  ‘I’d wondered what you thought about that.’

  ‘Education is never wasted. I’m well aware that you went after the job as a temporary measure to get over a sticky patch. You didn’t count on your heart getting committed. I mean, of course,’ she said, levelling her daughter a shrewd look, ‘to Stephanie. Poor little mite. I wouldn’t think much of you if you didn’t want to stand by her until she got over it. Is that roughly it?’

  ‘That’s exactly it.’

  What a wise mother she’d got. Sympathetic and understanding. Sometimes too understanding, Jan thought, remembering that shrewd look.

  * * *

  ‘You’re lucky in your parents, Jan,’ David remarked as they got under way.

  ‘I know. They are two of the nicest, if not the nicest people I know. They certainly took a liking to you.’

  ‘It’s generous of you to admit it, all except your “I wonder why?” tone.’

  ‘I’d like to know what Dad said to you.’

  ‘I know you would.’

  ‘Do you have to be so infuriatingly mysterious?’

  ‘At least it makes a change
,’ he said blandly. ‘Most of the time you find me plain infuriating.’

  ‘My father seems to respect you an awful lot.’

  ‘That’s more than can be said of his daughter.’

  ‘Are you very important in your job?’ Jan asked, following her own line of enquiry.

  ‘You favour your father most in looks, but you’ve got your mother’s charming nose and her vivacity. Who do you get your tenacity from?’

  ‘Whoever I get it from, it isn’t doing me much good. You could give lessons to a clam.’

  He laughed, and announced out of the blue, ‘I’ve got plans to extend Larkspur Cottage.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I’ve bought the cottage next door.’

  ‘That’s quick work.’

  ‘No it isn’t. I’ve been negotiating, through Ralph, to purchase it for some time, but the deal has only just been closed. I’m now having plans drawn up to knock the two cottages into one to make a decent sized place to live in.’

  ‘You intend to settle in Willowbridge then?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ he challenged.

  ‘No reason. In your place, I’d want to go somewhere where I was liked.’

  ‘Be driven out, you mean? No way. It’s perfectly located, near enough to my work, but just far enough away to make it the perfect retreat from the scourges of the day. Idyllic in summer, cosy in winter. I intend to keep the old look of the place, the oak beams and all that, but a few discreet and tasteful modernisations won’t come amiss, like a shower unit and a new bathroom. And those little peep-holes they call windows might look old-world, but they don’t do a thing for me. They’ve got to go.’

  ‘Oh yes!’ Jan said, catching his enthusiasm. It was one of her pet grievances that the view was wasted.

  ‘And you know the outbuilding? Mrs. Weaver turned it to good use for her constant stream of visitors. That will come in most useful. Long term, I need a quiet retreat where I can work. Just for now it will double as a bedroom for me. That will release a bedroom in the cottage for visitors.’

  While Linda had been staying he had given his bed up for her and made do with the sofa.

 

‹ Prev