'True. And though it's not really my business, Judy, would you consider selling at a discount at the fair, or for orders made and paid for there? Perhaps over a certain amount?'
Judy considered this.
'To encourage them? Yes, I can afford to do that on my prices and still make a small profit per card.'
They told Magda of Susie's suggestion that Judy painted some specials and framed them, and she was enthusiastic.
'Ken can help there. He buys frames for the photos of his sports teams. Let him know what sizes and how many, and he can do the framing too. He doesn't have enough to do during the school holidays, if he's not playing cricket or tennis, and he can't do that all the time.'
They all laughed, but Judy felt a little apprehensive at involving Ken, so friendly with Mark. Would this somehow let Mark invade her life once more? Then she pulled back her shoulders. She had told herself she was no longer afraid of him.
'By the way,' Magda went on, 'he asked me to ask you both if you played tennis? He doesn't have many partners during the day, and I think he finds Mark not up to his standard.'
'I really can't afford the time, and I haven't my racquet here,' Judy said quickly.
'That was what I told him. You will be working flat out if you are going to produce new pictures for Ken to frame.'
'I'll be busy too,' Justin said. 'I must get on with numbering all Judy's cards and putting them into a catalogue. We discussed the identifying system we'll use on the way back from Manchester.'
'Oh dear, I was so eager to talk craft fair I forgot you were clearing out Judy's flat. How did it go?'
*
Judy designed some business cards to hand out at the fair, and Justin offered to go and order them locally, and buy the other things she needed, including more of the special paper and card she used and new colour cartridges for Paul's printer.
'I'm using far more than I expected to,' she said guiltily, 'and it wouldn't do to run out at a critical moment.'
'And we need to stock up on food, too. Doesn't Fay have some of those canvas shopping bags?'
As he went out of the house Mark was opening the door of his car in Sadie's drive. He looked across at Justin carrying the shopping bags and sneered.
'Have you become a house husband?' he asked, his tone offensive. 'You wouldn't catch me doing those sort of chores.'
Justin glared across at him.
'Then who did them for you? I understood you lived alone up in Manchester.'
'Haven't you heard of Internet shopping? When there are no willing and adoring women around.'
Justin forced himself not to react. Had this boorish fellow conned Judy into doing his shopping for him? No wonder he had been angry at losing her services if that were so. Mark was still talking.
'You can tell your prissy girlfriend I've finally come to my senses. I can see, now I've met a real woman, that she was never right for me. I won't be trying to talk to her again.'
'I'm sure we'll all be thankful for small mercies.'
At that moment Sadie appeared out of the front door, dressed in skin-tight jeans and a filmy top that was so transparent it was clear she had nothing on beneath it.
'Hello stranger! I've missed you and the noise of those wretched dogs the past few days. Where have you been?'
'Oh, I had a job to do with Judy, so we took the dogs with us.'
'Was that dreadful van I saw yours or Judy's? It quite brought down the tone of the Close.'
'It belonged to me.' He was not about to let Sadie sneer at Judy in this manner. 'You won't have to endure it again,' he said, getting into his car.
'With Judy?' Mark snapped. 'What job with Judy?'
So he was apparently still jealous of what she did with another man, was he? Justin wound down his driver's window.
'Just a couple of days away,' he said, smiling reminiscently, and fired the engine.
Before Mark could reply he backed out of the drive and roared away. He loved his sports car, but there was something extra satisfying to be able to gun the engine and race away leaving someone as ghastly as Mark speechless.
Presumably the 'real woman' he claimed to have found was Sadie. Well, as far as Justin was concerned he was welcome to her. But if he moved in with her it would not be pleasant to be living next door. Thank goodness, Paul and Fay were due back in a couple of weeks, soon after the craft fair.
And then what? He would move back to his flat, but what would Judy do? She would have no time to look for a new flat before the fair, and could presumably stay on with Fay for a while until she found one. He shrugged. She was not his responsibility, but the thought of not seeing her again, or only occasionally when he visited Paul, was somehow disturbing. As he wandered round the supermarket choosing things rather haphazardly, he tried to analyse his emotions. He liked Judy, admired her painting skills, was sorry for her having to endure the dreadful Mark, but that was all, wasn't it? On the debit side he wondered how she could possibly have stayed with such a man for almost two years, and why she did not simply tell him to lose himself, and call the police if he threatened violence. Was it timidity, or not wishing to create a scene? Or had Mark in some way changed?
He pushed the speculations away and forced himself to concentrate so that he bought the correct art supplies she wanted. Then he took the business cards to a printer, and with a mixture of charm and forcefulness persuaded the girl in reception to promise to have them ready in a few days, in good time for the craft fair. Then he drove home, wondering how best to tell Judy that her erstwhile boyfriend had, it seemed, moved in next door.
*
The following evening Magda arrived and looked at the new pen and ink drawing Judy had done for the framed pictures. After admiring them she told Judy bluntly that she was looking pale.
'Have you been for a walk today?' she asked.
'No time,' Judy said.
'You can spare half an hour. Come on, my dogs need a run, Ken's been out all day, he hasn't been able to take them. We'll take them all, yours and mine, on the common. You coming as well, Justin?'
'I went earlier, ma'am,' he grinned. 'I need to make some phone calls. You two go, and I'll heat up some soup and make a salad for when you get back. You'll stay, Magda?'
'Thanks, yes. There are some things to decide. I'm a cricket widow these days.'
They were just onto the common and had let all the dogs off their leads when Ken hailed them.
'Wait for me, girls,' he called, getting out of his car and running after them.
'You're back early. I didn't expect you for hours yet.'
'The match was over, utter collapse of the other side, so I decided to come home. We're meeting down at the club later.'
They walked on, Ken asking how the preparations for the craft fair were going, and promising to buy the necessary frames on the following day.
'Glad to help. Oh, Magda, guess what? Old Jenkins had a heart attack last week. A bad one. He's been told to retire.'
'Your Head Master? Poor man. He wasn't that old, was he?'
'Mid-fifties. But the minute Mark heard about it he said he'd apply. Right size school, time he went for promotion, but if you ask me, there's another incentive. Young Sadie's the big attraction. Oops! Sorry, Judy, forgot you and he used to be together.'
Judy was struggling not to show how appalled she was, at the thought of Mark moving in next door. Then she told herself not to be stupid, it would be at least another term before Mark could move down here, even if he got the job, which wasn't certain, by which time she would be well away herself in a new flat.
'I pity Sadie if she's been taken in by him,' she couldn't help saying. 'Ken, I am most grateful to you, getting these photo frames. Did Magda explain the sort I want?'
'Don't worry, leave all that to me, just give me the pictures as you do them.'
*
Justin was going into the kitchen to make a coffee when the front door bell rang. He frowned. Magda was at work, Ken was at a cricket match, so
who could this be? He hoped it was not Mark or Sadie, though after what Judy had told him the previous evening he doubted it.
Judy came out of Paul's study.
'Oh, I didn't know you were down here.'
'Just about to make coffee. Want one?'
'I'm panting for one.'
Justin smiled back at her as he opened the door. Then he turned to look at the visitor and froze. She was dark-haired, slender, dressed in skin-tight hipster jeans and a crop top that revealed her smooth, flat stomach, and more beautiful than he recalled, and he had never expected to see her again.
'Barbara! What on earth are you doing here?'
She glanced past him to where Judy still stood at the back of the hall, then turned back and gave him her special seductive smile.
'I came to see you, of course, Justin dear.'
Her voice was low, had a haunting, husky quality, and he recalled how he had been enchanted by it when they first met.
'How did you know where I was staying?'
'I went to ask your partners, of course, when I found your apartment was empty. I'd been hoping to stay there with you while I'm in London, instead of getting my own for just a few weeks. Well, darling, aren't you going to ask me in?'
Justin stepped back. His wits were slowly returning.
'Of course. Forgive me, it was a surprise, seeing you so unexpectedly.'
'A pleasant one, I hope,' Barbara said as she stepped inside. 'You must be Mrs Morris, Justin's sister-in-law,' she added, turning with a polite, cold smile to Judy.
'Actually, no. Fay is my sister, She and Paul are in Australia, and I am looking after her dogs.'
'I see.'
Barbara's smile froze and she cast a swift glance towards Justin.
'This is Judy Morton, Barbara. Barbara Wilkins, Judy. I knew her in Oman,' he added. He could scarcely introduce her to Judy as his former fiancée, and he was still suffering from surprise to see her here. 'Come in and have a coffee. I was just going to take a break and make one.'
Judy was making signs she would go back into her study, but Justin got between her and the door.
'No you don't,' he said quietly to her. 'You wanted a coffee, and I need your support.'
He ushered both her and Barbara into the kitchen, where the dogs rushed to greet this new friend. She drew back, pushing them away with her handbag.
'Oh no, not dogs! You know I don't like getting their hairs on my clothes, Justin. Can't you shut them outside while I'm here?'
'If you wish, but they're harmless.'
'I'm not actually afraid, darling, I just don't like them slobbering all over me.'
Rich Texans were permitted to slobber over her, Justin thought as he opened the back door and pushed the reluctant dogs outside. They knew they were going to miss out on biscuits, and while he dealt with them he regained his composure.
Judy had filled the kettle and got down coffee mugs. Her back was stiff, and Justin couldn't decide whether it was with resentment with him for forcing her into the kitchen, or with Barbara for her dislike of the dogs.
Barbara frowned. 'So why are you staying here, Justin? It seems so peculiar when you have your London apartment.'
'It's a long story. But I thought you were in Texas? Here, sit down,' he added, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs.
Barbara sank gratefully into the chair and put her handbag on the table. She shrugged ruefully.
'It didn't work out with Eddie, I'm afraid. When I got to Houston I found he had one enormous family, brothers and sisters, cousins galore, all living along the same street as far as I could judge, and he expected me to do the pretty with all of them. You know how much I detest crowds of relatives. That was why I went to Oman, to get away from my own family.'
The sudden sight of her had brought it all back to him – their first meeting, the instant rapport they seemed to achieve, his pleasure when he saw her beauty, the excitement her vivacity created, the whirlwind romance and engagement – and then the disillusionment when she told him she no longer wished to marry him, and admitted, without any sign of shame, that she had found a wealthier man.
Suddenly he knew he no longer cared for her. Until now he had, in a small part of him, mourned her loss. It had been the rejection that had hurt, he realised, rather than the actual loss of her. To have captured such an attractive woman, courted by many of the ex-pats, had been a triumph, and he had genuinely thought they could be happy. It had been a vain hope, and he now knew he was well out of it. She was talking again.
'But you haven't told me why you are living here, with Judy, instead of London.'
'Initially my apartment was rented out, but I came back early. You know why,' he added curtly. 'The temporary one had a water leak, and Paul offered me this house while he and Fay were away. Neither Judy nor I knew the other was coming.'
'Your tenants are out now, though.'
'I am still on holiday, and I am having the apartment, or some of it, redecorated before I move back in.'
'How tedious. But I can rent somewhere, and you can move in with me. You are not needed to look after these dogs, are you? Judy can do that. We could make the most of the time I'll be over here. I have to look for another job, and can't decide whether to stay in London or go abroad again.'
*
Judy took her mug and escaped back to the study. She felt too much like a gooseberry for comfort. Barbara was totally open about what she wanted, and if that was what Justin wanted too he had to be able to discuss it with Barbara without her presence. Did he want that? He could easily finish the poster and catalogue he was designing for her in London, there was no need for him to remain here. And now Mark was safely attached to Sadie, she had nothing to fear from him, so didn't need Justin's protection.
She tried to concentrate on work. She had decided two of her new designs, which she had not yet printed as cards, would be suitable for the framed pictures. One, a watercolour, was a sweeping view of moorland, brushed with the purple heather, with a tall thin peel tower and majestic mountains in the distance. The other was an oil, a vibrant village scene with thatched cottages overlooking a rippling stream. Oils and watercolours took longer to paint and to dry, so if she started more there was a risk they would not be ready to scan into the computer and print copies ready for framing. The other framed pictures would be acrylics or pen and ink drawings, and a couple of cartoons, which she could do quickly.
She heard the front door close, and wondered rather bleakly if Justin had gone out with Barbara, but almost immediately the study door opened and he came in, to sink down onto a chair and mop his face with a handkerchief.
'She's gone.'
'You don't need to stay here with me, if you want to go with her,' Judy offered. 'There isn't a lot to do now, that you can't do anywhere.'
He stared at her in astonishment.
'Do you think I'm a tame poodle to go running when she calls? After she threw me over for a richer man?'
'Of course not, but you were engaged to her, and she is beautiful. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to make it up with her.'
'I thought I was in love with her once, now I know I am not. Probably never was, just dazzled. She's beautiful, yes, and vivacious, but it's a cold, hard beauty, and a vivacity that's always looking for the best advantage. I'd been out in Oman for months, away from friends and family, probably lonely, and we seemed to click.' He laughed ruefully. 'I imagine the fact all the other single men out there envied me had something to do with it, too. Besides,' he added disastrously, 'you need me here.'
Judy didn't believe his protestations. What was that tag about protesting too much?
'You can finish what you've promised to do for me anywhere, there isn't a lot more to do.'
'Don't you believe it! I have lots more to do, labelling your collection, and tweaking the pictures in the catalogue. I've just discovered how to tilt them.'
'It doesn't have to be as fancy as all that.'
'Maybe it doesn't need to be, but it w
ill be. This is the launch of your business, my girl, and it has to be just right. Why, when even Ken gets involved, it must be important. I'm staying here.'
'Mark isn't a threat any more,' she tried.
'Not until the luscious Sadie throws him out.'
Judy knew he was just being kind.
'Your flat is ready by now, surely?'
'I told you I was having some painting done. I can't stand the smell of fresh paint. Oh dear, now you'll accuse me of disliking your artwork!'
Judy tried not to laugh.
'All right! I give in, but promise me you'll go back to your flat when it's ready. I really don't need to be babysat any more, and I really have got over being frightened of Mark. In fact, if he comes blustering in here I'll stick the biggest paintbrush I have in his eye.'
Justin picked up one of the slender brushes she used for her more delicate work, and brandished it in front of her.
'This one? OK, I'll get out of your way now. I'm busy, with all these catalogues, even if you aren't.'
After he left, ostentatiously closing the door very softly behind him, Judy sat staring at it for several minutes. It was an act. He didn't want to stay but felt obliged to, having promised to help her. She began to think about his apartment, something she had not really wondered about before. It was clearly in an expensive riverside block, and his own car, plus all the others she'd seen in that underground garage, were big, thirsty monsters. To have won a commission for building a house in a place like Oman, presumably for one of the wealthy Omanis, he must be a good architect and earn big fees. And she was a former art teacher, struggling to build her own business, and once she had found herself a new flat she would probably have to take out a mortgage and have no money. She would almost certainly have to find a part time job, or she would not even qualify for a mortgage.
She sighed. They had become so friendly, and she had even forgotten, for most of the time, her suspicions that he and Fay were involved. Could that have been the real reason Barbara had finished with him? The sudden thought struck her like a blow. What evidence did she have of this Texan, and how rich he was, and how much that had influenced Barbara? True, they had both mentioned him, but now she began to think clearly, Judy began to wonder how a man with such a large family as Barbara had described could be all that rich. Surely some of it must belong to his family, his siblings and parents, if not his myriads of cousins?
Once Bitten Page 9