by Lilian Peake
‘Thanks, Craig, I’d like to.’ And if ever, she thought, there was an understatement, that was one.
‘Good.’ He returned to his desk. ‘As I see it, I have a number of alternatives. Take on the job of running the place myself, or appoint a new head teacher and return to the university, letting him get on with it. I could put up the fees—an absolute “must” if the school is to continue to run effectively and competently. I could introduce modern thinking, modem techniques into the teaching of the children.’ He drummed on the desk. ‘It might—just—be a challenge. Anyway,’ his face was illuminated with a smile which had Shelley’s heart vibrating, ‘this evening you can help me decide. You agree?’
‘I agree,’ she whispered.
He laughed. ‘You said that as if you were taking the marriage vow. You came near to it once, didn’t you?’
‘Perilously near,’ she answered, with a strained smile.
He looked at her curiously, but she did not answer the question in his eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Shelley borrowed a dress of Janine’s to wear that evening. It was long and filmy and brilliantly patterned. She asked Janine to arrange her hair-style and when her sister had finished, Shelley thought that even Craig would not be able to overlook the fact that she was a woman—a warm, attractive woman—despite all his insulting remarks on the subject in the past.
He would probably never invite her to dine with him again. Why should he when, after this evening and he had come to his decision, they would not have to discuss the future any more? And that was the whole object of this outing with him, wasn’t it?
She put on a necklace which Michael had given her. It was an amethyst and moonstone pendant on a gold chain. It had been lying in its box since the day Michael had gone out of her life.
The door knocker sounded and Shelley, panicking, called to Janine to answer it. ‘Ask Craig in,’ she called. ‘Tell him I won’t be long.’
There were voices in the entrance hall and Janine’s was raised excitedly. Shelley thought, Jan must be telling Craig about Marius. A flick of the comb through her hair and Shelley was ready.
‘Shelley! Shelley!' Janine’s voice was urgent, compelling. ‘Come on down, Shelley!’
Why, Shelley thought, is she getting so excited about Craig?
‘You’ve got a visitor,’ Janine was calling.
Shelley said from the landing, ‘I know. I told you Craig was—’
‘It’s not Craig—it’s—it’s—’
A man appeared in the living-room doorway. His hair was brown and it trailed his collar. A moustache, a new addition to his long, angular face, decorated his upper lip.
Shelley, standing in the hall, held her breath. It could not be true! He had not come back. It was an illusion ... She whispered, unbelieving, ‘Michael!’
He went towards her, arms outstretched, and it was as if she were seeing a ghost from the dark corridors of her mind moving into the fierce light of day—a ghost that did not melt away but had solidity and substance. He was only a little taller than she was. In that he had not changed. But his manner, apologetic and uncertain, had altered beyond recognition. Where was the self-assurance, the too-confident smile, the near-salesman-like ability he possessed to sell himself to strangers?
‘Shelley?’ He took her hands. ‘You look great, darling, just great. I’ve never seen you looking so beautiful.’ His hands lifted and touched her throat. She might have been made of stone for all the effect his touch had on her. ‘You’re wearing my necklace! That’s an encouragement in itself. It must prove I have a chance.’ He kissed her cheek then, gently, asking, ‘May I?’ her lips. ‘I’ve come to say I’m sorry and will you have me back?’
Shelley had no words with which to answer him.
‘It was all a terrible mistake, Shelley, one I hope I’m still lucky enough to put right.’ He put his arms about her and kissed her, experimentally the first time, then with greater assurance.
‘Shelley,’ Janine said, with uncharacteristic uncertainty in her voice, ‘Craig’s here.’
Shelley pulled herself from her ex-fiancé’s embrace and swung round. How long had Craig been standing in the doorway? What had he seen? Everything, it appeared from the expression on his face. Shelley had been too shocked to hear his arrival. Every other thought had been wiped clean from her mind. For a few seconds an odd kind of amnesia had blotted out the present and only the past had remained.
Now she was back and the problems that confronted her had her reeling.
Michael was saying, ‘Come out for a meal with me, darling.’ What right had he, she thought angrily, to call her ‘darling?’ ‘We’ve so much to talk about, so much catching up to do.’
‘Michael, I can’t.’ The words came out hoarsely and she twisted round to face the man who stood watching the scene with sardonic eyes. ‘Craig’s taking me—’
‘Forget it,’ Craig said. ‘Go out with your fiancé. I’ve plenty of work to keep me occupied.’ He turned to go.
Shelley broke away and ran after him. ‘Craig—’ Anything to keep him there. ‘Meet Michael Townley, my—’
‘Her fiancé,’ Michael put in, his self-confidence bounding back at Shelley’s lack of repulse. ‘You are—?’ He was back on form, but the outstretched hand was ignored and the salesman’s smile elicited a barely pleasant reply.
‘The name is Allard, Craig Allard.’
‘My employer’s son,’ Shelley explained, smiling so brightly it hurt her face. ‘I’m dining—’
‘Please forget it,’ said Craig. Seconds later he had gone.
‘Michael,’ she said accusingly, ‘it was wrong of you to assume we can turn back the clock and just go on from where we left off. I’m a different person—’
‘You’re so right, darling. I must have been crazy to walk out on you. I’ve hardly had a moment’s peace—’
‘How’s Susanne?’
He looked a little shamefaced. ‘Couldn’t tell you. Haven’t seen her for weeks. It’s all finished.’
‘So you’ve come back to me?’
Michael, failing to detect the sarcasm, plainly regarded the question as a form of encouragement.
‘I’ve never really left you, darling. You stayed in my mind and I couldn’t get you out.’
Smooth phrases, Shelley thought, looking into his face and wondering how she had ever thought she was in love with him. Craig, she must put things right with Craig...
‘Jan,’ Shelley called. Janine appeared from the kitchen. ‘Talk to Mike for a few moments, will you? I—I want to make a phone call.’
Janine, puzzled, led Michael into the living-room and closed the door. Shelley dialled and drummed her fingers, waiting. At last the call was answered.
‘Craig? Shelley here. Please, Craig, I don’t want to dine with Michael. You asked me first—’
‘Don’t give it another thought. Regard the invitation as cancelled. Better still, as though it had never been given.’
‘But, Craig, please ...’
‘Don’t you understand? I don’t want your company.’ He cut himself off.
Michael, over dinner in a local hotel, took a great deal of convincing that the girl he had been going to marry nearly a year before had had such a change of heart she was as good as telling him she didn’t want to see him again.
Shelley tried to be polite, but if she was hurting him she did not care. He had hurt her immeasurably in the past. Could she be blamed if she indulged in just a little revenge? When Michael took her home, he was still unable to believe that her rejection was final.
‘I understand,’ he said. ‘You’re playing the game of having your own back. All right, salve your pride. But I’ll be back, darling. Now I’ve found you again, now I’ve seen you as you really are, a beautiful, desirable woman, you think I’m going to let you go as easily as that?’
With a confident wave, he drove back to the hotel at which he was spending the night. As his car disappeared into the darkness, Shelley ma
de for the phone. She dialled, hoping Craig had not gone out.
‘Allard here,’ the voice snapped.
‘Craig, it’s Shelley,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’m home again. I phoned to say how sorry I am—’
‘Spare me that,’ came the clipped, cold reply. ‘I don’t want your apologies. I’ve been stood up before. I’m no stranger to the ways of women.’
‘Craig, I didn’t cancel the invitation. It was you—’
‘Just why have you phoned? To let me know you’re home before midnight? That you said, “No, Michael” like a good little girl and off he trotted, tail between his legs? So what does that prove? He’ll be back tomorrow begging on the doorstep, and next time he may be more successful in his strategy and get what he wants without having to coax you into the mood by giving you a meal first.’
‘Craig,’ she cried, ‘you’re so wrong. I wanted to go out with you. We were going to discuss the future, remember—’
‘As it happens, there’s no need. I’ve come to a decision without the expense of paying for a meal for two.’
Shelley sat on the stairs, her legs weak. ‘You’ve decided? What—what have you decided, Craig?’
There was a long silence.
‘Please tell me, Craig.’ More silence. ‘Please, Craig,’ in a whisper, ‘so much depends on your decision.’
‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ There was a gloating note in his voice, as if he knew how much he was tantalising her.
‘But, Craig, I won’t sleep. I know I won’t, if you don’t tell me now.’
‘Too bad. Think about your loved one. Maybe you’ll dream you’re in his arms, with or without that ring on your finger. What does it matter these days?’
With which cynical comment he ended the conversation.
Craig was at his desk next morning. When Shelley arrived he was reading the mail which he had opened himself, instead of waiting for her to do it.
When she said ‘good morning’ to his bent head, he did not raise it but nodded indifferently. She had intended asking him immediately what his decision had been about the future of the school, but his unapproachable mood intimidated her. And he did not voluntarily enlighten her.
Half the morning went by and the agony of having to stay silent was becoming unbearable. It was lunchtime before Shelley had gathered sufficient courage to confront him at his desk and ask, with a waver in her voice,
‘What have you decided, Craig?’
He looked at her for the first time that day and she winced at the coldness in his eyes. ‘I can’t see that it’s any concern of yours now what decision I’ve come to.’ As if he hadn’t humiliated her enough, he added, ‘In any case, you’re just the secretary around here, nothing more. Remember that.’
Just the secretary, she thought achingly, when I’ve spent a night in your arms?
He looked at his watch. ‘It’s lunchtime. You can go.’
‘I don’t want to go. I’m not hungry,’ she cried, forced into losing her self-restraint by his callous indifference to her fate. ‘How could I be when I don’t know where I’ll be living in a few weeks’ time?’
He glanced up at her with surprise, and there was a question in his raised eyebrows.
‘You must know what I mean,’ she pressed on. ‘If you sell the school, you’ll be selling my home with it, and depriving me of my livelihood. I don’t know how you can sit there so calmly, so—so unfeelingly, knowing that if you give up the school, you’ll be making me homeless.’
‘I know now, don’t I? You’ve just told me.’
She could not stand his sarcasm at such a time. ‘What are you going to do?’ she repeated. But he was silent. Maddened, she pounded the desk with the palm of her hand. ‘If you don’t tell me,’ she cried, ‘I’ll—I’ll—’
‘Resign?’ Now the eyebrows were high and indifferent. ‘Go ahead. It will save me the trouble of giving you notice.’
Shelley paled and put a shaking hand to her throat. ‘You’re—you’re closing the school?’
He answered flatly, ‘I’m closing the school. Not selling it, closing it.’
‘And,’ she whispered, ‘the house?’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘My mother told me she has no intention of living here with my new stepfather, in which case I’ll probably sell the house, too.’ He rose. ‘So now you know.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘If you’re not hungry, I am. If you’ll excuse me ...’
She raced to the door and reached it before him, standing with her back to it. ‘Why not sell the school?’ she pleaded. ‘There must be someone wanting to buy an establishment like this with a good reputation.’
‘Thus keeping a roof over your head?’ She nodded eagerly. ‘Why should you worry now?’
‘Why should I worry?’ she responded, bewildered. ‘When my home and future are threatened?’
‘Like Janine’s, your future’s been taken care of. Jan’s getting married. Your much-loved ex-fiancé has come back into your life and from the way he was kissing you and petting you yesterday, intends to stay there. Now will you let me pass?’
So he thought she had taken Michael back! Understanding how his mind was working at last, she shook her head.
He took the movement as a refusal to obey his request. His lips thinned, his hands gripped her shoulders and he swung her round, putting her behind him, but before he could reach the door Shelley grasped his arm and clung to it. ‘Craig, Craig, listen to me!’
He tried to shake her off, but she put herself in front of him and caught his other arm. He looked down into her upturned, appealing face, but his glance did not soften. Instead he smiled sardonically.
‘What are you after? You want two men in tow? Aren’t you satisfied with the one you’ve got? You want a little supplementary lovemaking because your boy-friend can’t deliver the goods? That’s fine with me. I’ll oblige. God knows, you’re giving me enough encouragement.’
His arms went round her, rough and ungentle, his lips thirsting and harsh, drawing the life from her. His hands tugged her blouse free of her skirt and his palms slipped, feather-light, over the bareness of her skin, fondling, stroking, exploring ...
She clung with all her strength, giving as he gave, reacting instinctively to his demands, his kisses on her body, her throat, her mouth. When his head lifted at last, his anger had not diminished. ‘By the way you’ve been responding, it seems I was right. Your boy-friend must be a weakling, a complete ignoramus on the subject of making love. I’ll have to give him some lessons some time.’ He must have seen the colour drain from her face, but his manner did not soften. ‘Now you’ve got what you’ve been asking for, perhaps you’ll let me go.’
‘Craig,’ she whispered, her body throbbing, her limbs shaking, ‘Craig—’
But he removed her clinging hands and sprinted up the stairs, putting the maximum distance between them in the shortest possible time. She was after him at once, two flights, three flights, four, gasping when she reached the top and hammering on his door.
‘Craig,’ she shrieked, ‘let me in! Please, please let me in!’ The door remained as implacable and unyielding as the man inside the room.
She twisted and rattled the handle. ‘Craig, listen to me. I’m not marrying Michael. I don’t love him, Craig. I sent him away, I sent him away...’ There was no movement, no sound in response to her words. Her fists pounded the obdurate door. ‘Let me in, Craig, I want you!’
Hopeless now, she turned away, hands covering her face. Before she could go down those four flights of stairs, her eyes must clear, her head must stop reeling.
The key grated, the door swung open. Shelley turned, without eagerness. In his present mood, he probably had every intention of throwing her down the stairs.
But his mood seemed, incredibly, to have altered. His hand came out, fastened on to her arm and pulled her into the room. He stood with his back to the closed door, as if to ward off any attempt on her part to escape.
‘Say that again,’ he said.
‘You said something else. Say it again,’ he repeated.
‘I said,’ she ran her tongue over her lips, ‘let me in, Craig. I—I want you.’
His smile held victory, achievement, delight. He reached out for her, pulling her hard against him. ‘At last she’s done it! She’s broken through those barriers, all of them, every single one. She’s put aside her pride and her dignity. She’s run after a man—four flights, four breathless flights of stairs—and she’s told him she wants him!’
Aghast, she said, straining away from him, ‘I don’t mean it that way, Craig—’ But, she asked herself, didn’t she? Of course she wanted him, more than she had ever wanted Michael, more than any man in the whole world!
His lips trailed her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, where he whispered, ‘And you shall have me, my sweet one, you shall have me for the rest of your life.’
His kisses came again and again, and in between were endearments, murmured, repeated, stroking her ears and her mind into tranquillity, her limbs into an unresisting compliance. At last he stopped and Shelley gazed up at him a little reproachfully.
‘You made me do it,’ she protested, ‘you made me run after you.’ But her eyes were shining.
‘Yes, I made you do it—in the end. There were times when I almost gave up in despair. But I forced you out of the darkness of that damned impregnable castle you’d withdrawn yourself into. I made you come out into the sunlight again. Admit you love me,’ he shook her a little, ‘admit it. You love me.’
But she did not care how much she told him now. He had read her mind in her actions there was no sense in holding back. This man, she knew, would never let her down as Michael had done. ‘I love you,’ she whispered, ‘oh, Craig, I love you...’
‘You trust me implicitly? You put yourself and your future in my hands?’ She nodded. ‘I wondered how long,’ he murmured, his eyes scanning every detail of her face, ‘it would take me to get that out of you. Ever since the day I met the girl with another man in her mind, I’ve been trying to coax her into falling in love with me. Everything I’ve said and done in your presence has been calculated to that end. Do you know something? I fell in love with the girl with the faraway look in her eyes. From the moment I met you I became jealous of that man you were thinking about.’