The door burst open and the lower fifth pounded in. Katie stood up. For the first time in their collective experience a teacher greeted them with genuine relief.
Unlike Katie, Haydon Tremayne got to work late. Heather had never known it to happen before. What was even more out of character, he strode past his faithful secretary’s desk without so much as a nod. He slammed the door to his office, only to open it almost at once.
‘Get Simon Jonas on the phone now.’
This time the slam had a note of finality.
‘Katie! There you are.’ The Headmaster put his head round the door. ‘We missed you.’
Katie looked at him abstractedly. ‘Did you?’ she said without interest.
Douglas Grove was used to careful politeness from Katie. He knew he alarmed her. He enjoyed it. This indifference was unexpected and not all welcome.
He came into the studio and said sharply, ‘I expect all members of staff to attend assembly.’
Even that did not move her. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’ She did not look at him. He did not like it. In fact he disliked it so much that he forgot a cardinal rule and raised his voice.
‘Be sure you’re there tomorrow.’
Katie turned empty eyes on him. ‘Right.’
He began to feel as if he were invisible. The lower fifth bent over their easels industriously. But he was too experienced a teacher not to know they were taking in every word.
He lowered his voice again. ‘You’re going to have to show more commitment than this, you know, Katie.’ His very pleasantness was a threat, and they both knew it. ‘You can’t let everyone know that teaching is only second best for you. The kids will pick it up.’
She shrugged. It infuriated him. He took a hasty step towards her. Not one of the lower fifth turned. But they all held their breath. Katie, though, did not react by so much as a flicker of an eyelash.
That was so unusual that he stopped and peered at her. ‘Are you all right?’
The only answer Katie gave was a little choke of laughter. It could have doubled as a sob.
Baffled, Douglas Grove said, ‘I shall expect you in first thing on the Monday of half-term to talk about the end of term exhibition. That is the least you can do.’
Katie gave him a faint, sweet smile and said nothing. With all those subdued children not looking at him, there was nothing he could do. He stamped out.
Haydon was making notes at his desk when the phone rang. He seized it at once.
‘Jonas?’
But it was Andrew. He had never heard Haydon sound so fierce. He said so.
Haydon did not laugh. Another first.
‘I was going to ask if it’s all right if I come back this weekend,’ Andrew said, wondering what was wrong. ‘But tell me to push off if it isn’t convenient.’
‘No, that’s fine.’ Haydon could not have sounded less interested. He made a few savage scrawls on the paper. ‘I’m going away but the Bateses will be back.’
One of the other lights on his bank of phones blinked. He put Andrew on hold.
‘Mr Jonas for you,’ Heather said.
‘I’ll take it.’ He flicked back. ‘Sorry, Andrew, something rve got to deal with. Let Bates know when you’re arriving.’
Andrea did not see her friend until just before hmch. She was shocked. Katie was walking along the corridor, hardly noticing the children who rushed past even when they bumped into her. She had a piece of paper in her hand. Andrea’s experienced eye identified it as one of the school secretary’s messages.
‘Problem?’ she asked worriedly, hurrying forward.
‘What?’ Katie jumped. She had not noticed Andrea either. ‘Oh, hello. No, no problem. Rather the reverse. Simon thinks he has found me a studio. I can spend all the half-term week painting.’ She smiled. The smile, thought a shocked Andrea, looked as if it had been applied to a ginger-bread man by a clumsy five-year-old.
‘Katie, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. What should be wrong? It’s great news.’
Andrea did not believe her. She had never seen Katie look like that—as if she had received a severe shock and could even now not quite believe it.
She said so. Katie shook her head.
‘There’s nothing wrong,’ she said firmly. ‘Believe me. Nothing at all.’
She seemed to be saying that all day. When she got home she was exhausted by other people’s concern. Katie closed the front door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes. Her bag slipped from her slackened fingers.
‘You’re doing what?’
‘I’m taking a week off.’
The board of Tremayne International exchanged looks.
‘But—these rumours,’ said one of them.
‘All nonsense,’ Haydon said breezily.
‘But what if the press get curious?’
Haydon nodded at the treasurer. ‘I’m sure Nick can handle it. We’ve got a professional PR company to advise, if necessary.’
There was a general uncomfortable shuffling. ‘Where will you be?’ said one of the other directors.
Haydon smiled. ‘Heather will know how to contact me. If she absolutely has to.’
They had to be content. Heather, rushed off her feet executing instructions she had never received before, had to be content as well.
‘The car will be at your house at seven,’ she told him. ‘The pilot is filing a flight plan. He will let you know as soon as they confirm the take-off and landing slots.’
The door opened and the treasurer came in.
‘Look, Harry, I know you need a holiday. But is it a good idea to go now?’
‘Yes,’ said Haydon unequivocally.
Nick made a discovery. ‘Someone’s made you angry.’
Heather murmured an excuse and returned to her own office.
‘Who is it? The Atlanta people? Carla? Look, there’s no need for you to storm off in a temper. This is the sort of thing I’m paid to deal with. I can deal with it. Just—’
‘I am not,’ said Haydon furiously, ‘in a temper. I want some time to live my own life for a bit. Is that so incomprehensible? ’
Nick stared. ‘But Tremayne’s is your life,’ he said, with great truth but not much tact.
Haydon breathed hard.
‘Then perhaps it shouldn’t be.’
He put the last files into his wall safe, closed the door and swung the combination lock. He turned back to Nick with the air of one who has burned his boats.
‘There.’
Nick shook his head. He still did not quite believe it.
‘But what about Carla’s shares? I mean, if she really is trying to sell them—’
Haydon picked up his briefcase and gave Nick a faintly malicious smile.
‘Your call.’
Nick looked alarmed. Haydon’s smile turned into a crocodile grin.
‘You said you could deal with it. So deal. I’m off.’
He went.
Katie was shaken out of her reverie by a ring on the doorbell. She jumped as if a spear had come through the solid oak. The bell rang again. Pausing only to dash away angry tearstains, she flung the door open, prepared to do battle.
But it was not anyone with whom she had to fight. It was Simon. He was waving a large brown envelope and grinning from ear to ear.
‘Da-da!’ He struck the pose of a song and dance man conjuring applause. ‘Half-term, studio and inspiration solved all in one go. Am I the bee’s knees, or am I not?’ He thrust the envelope at her.
Katie took it automatically. She told herself she was not disappointed, blinking.
‘“Thank you, Simon,”’ he prompted.
She looked down at the envelope. ‘Thank you for what?’ she said suspiciously.
‘The answer to all your problems.’
‘All—?’ For a horrid moment Katie wondered if last night’s adventure was written on her face for all to see. Then she realised that had to be nonsense. She rubbed her eyes and said ruefully, ‘I’m so
rry, I’m not with you. I’ve only just got back from school. Come and have a coffee and tell me what problems I can say goodbye to.’
When he had, she stared at him in disbelief.
‘Italy? I can’t afford to go to Italy.’
Simon tapped the envelope. ‘Won’t cost you a penny. There’s the ticket. You stay in an artists’ commune in Castello San Pietro. Even the food is free.’
Katie’s eyes narrowed. ‘How?’
‘I told you. A charitable foundation.’
Her suspicion increased. ‘You’ve organised this all very quickly.’
Simon sighed. ‘Well, you weren’t doing anything about it, were you?’
Katie bit her lip. She was still uneasy, though she could not have said why.
‘Whose idea is this?’
Simon frowned. ‘I told you, I rang round—’
She interrupted. ‘Don’t play games with me, Simon. Did Tremayne put you up to this?’
There was a startled pause. Then, ‘What’s this all about, Katie?’ Simon asked with real curiosity. ‘I thought you hadn’t met him.’
She folded her lips together. She was still in shock from the discoveries of last night. This was the least of them. And yet it still made her wince.
‘So did I,’ she muttered at last.
His eyebrows flew up in comical astonishment. ‘I scent a mystery.’
Katie saw she was digging a trap for herself.
‘Never mind that either,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I can’t go. I’m supposed to be house-sitting. I can’t just waltz off, leaving the house unoccupied.’
Simon did not falter for a moment. ‘Leave that to me. Think of the Tuscan hills in summer.’
‘And the Head wants me at school. He was quite threatening about it.’
‘That’s the groper?’ Simon said innocently.
Katie stared at him for a moment, not seeing him. She thought of the gloating note in Douglas Grove’s voice. She had told herself that nothing could be worse than losing her job. After last night, though, her horizons of horror had widened. There was quite a lot that was worse, including coming face to face with the man next door.
‘When do I leave?’
Simon gave a long sigh. ‘That’s my girl.’
Katie did not really believe her luck until she was in the back of a car racing along at a suicidal pace. Tuscan sunshine glazed the landscape through which they hurtled. The fields were lush and well tended. In the distance the lollipop pines reminded her that she had left England behind. She let out a long sigh of pleasure and relief.
Her driver was courteous and efficient, but they established quickly that neither of them had enough of the other’s language to make conversation. So she could stretch out without guilt and give herself up to anticipation. A whole week’s uninterrupted painting. Oh, she was going to have so much fun. And, in spite of her misgivings, it was really going to happen. Nothing could stop it now.
So why did her mind persist in returning to the past week, instead of relishing the glorious days to come? It was utterly perverse.
Well, not really the whole week. Just that night. That one hot night when she’d lost her balance, her sense of proportion and, very nearly, her heart.
Katie turned her head restlessly against the upholstery. But, try as she would, the memories flooded back. It was as if he was there in the car with her silent, enigmatic, demanding. Katie swallowed, remembering.
They had stood so close in the kitchen that night. Not embracing. Not even touching. But she had felt her hair wafting against her neck as he breathed.
‘Oh, I will do what is expected of me,’ he had said.
There was a note of self-mockery, even bitterness in his voice. He was touching her face but it felt as if he was angry at something she could not guess at. Something that had made him angrier and angrier for a long time.
Just for a moment it was as if she was not there. But when he looked at her. . .
‘Oh, yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Every damned thing.’
Katie’s mouth went dry. Her thoughts scurried frantically. Nothing coherent emerged.
And then there was a noise. They both froze. The door to the utility room swung open soundlessly. To Katie’s astonishment, he turned on his heel, masking her with his body, as if he expected attack. In one swift, silent movement he swept them both sideways to the door in the hall.
The door to the utility room swung wider. Nothing happened. Katie held her breath. There was an odd scratching sound. And then a large head peered mournfully round it.
Their laughter came in a great explosion of released tension.
‘That damned dog.’
‘He’s sweet,’ Katie said, forgetting that she had gone off animals.
He let her go.
‘No, he’s not. He’s nosy and greedy and I’m not at all sure he even does the job. One good pat and any burglar would get past him.’
But, in spite of his harsh words, he rubbed the dog’s head before throwing it a bone-shaped biscuit.
‘I didn’t get past him,’ Katie pointed out.
He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘No, I suppose you didn’t. I let you in myself, didn’t I?’
She gave him a brilliant smile, partly out of relief that the dog was not the assassin he’d seemed to expect, partly from sheer release of tension. ‘So you’ve only yourself to blame,’ she said gaily.
His eyes flickered. ‘Yes. Yes, I have, haven’t I?’
The dog chomped happily on his biscuit.
‘Come on. Before that animal blackmails us any further.’
He led the way purposefully back into the main body of the house and up a flight of stairs. At the top he turned to look down at her.
‘Well?’ he said softly.
He had not turned on the light. She could see him clearly enough, outlined against the Gothic window, but she could not read his expression.
‘Well?’ she echoed uncertainly.
‘We can go into the study and make polite conversation until Lisa Harding rings. If she does. Or. . .’
Katie had a craven desire to pretend that she did not know what he was talking about. She swallowed. Deafeningly.
‘Or we can go upstairs and find out what is happening here.’
It was not, she thought, much of a seduction technique. No blandishments, no promises; he did not even say that he wanted her. But then she had seen the way he looked at her and she knew that already.
The trouble was that she knew she wanted him too. Wanted as she had never wanted before. ‘Oh, God,’ she said under her breath.
‘Your choice,’ he said unhelpfully.
Katie was hot again. The tall staircase seemed suddenly airless. Her tee shirt clung. He stood at the top of the stairs like a challenger out of a legend.
She thought, I’ve been waiting for this all my life. I’ve been afraid of this all my life. Her hand went to her middle in a gesture she was not even aware of. She thought, This time I can’t run away. But she could not move either.
He made an impatient noise and ran back down the last two stairs to her side. He ran a hand down one of the scratches the little cat had left on her arm.
‘Too battered?’ His voice was warm with amusement.
It was the perfect excuse. She could back out without offence. Without even looking a coward. Except, of course, that she did not want to. She moistened her lips.
‘No.’ It was a harsh whisper.
‘Well, then. . .’
He put an arm round her.
And Katie found she had no choice at all. Her body had already made it. She turned into his embrace and kissed him hard.
His response was immediate and unequivocal. He caught her up against him so that her toes left the floor. They swayed.
Katie gave a little exclamation of alarm. He laughed, a shaken, breathless laugh. And before she knew what he was about, he had swung her up into his arms. Holding her against his chest, he took the next flight two at a time.
/> He shouldered his way into an unlit room and they fell onto the bed together.
Katie writhed against him, twisting and turning to get closer as he tore off his clothes. She heard his laugh, husky in the darkness.
‘Careful.’
But she was too wild with longing to be careful. She flung off her tee shirt, impatient of all restraint. And then he was naked too, beside her, touching her slowly but with such assurance he might have been doing it all their lives.
Katie gasped silently at the long, infinitely tantalising caresses. His fingers touched her everywhere. Katie was shocked by the intimacy that he demanded. She had never imagined she could surrender herself to another human being with such abandon. It was so exciting it was almost unbearable.
‘Touch me,’ he breathed in her ear.
That shook her. But under the goad of her own desire she could not do anything but what he wanted. Tentatively, she ran her hands down his body, learning by touch, her confidence growing as she felt him respond.
She was shocked anew when he groaned with sudden pleasure. Her hand jumped away. He caught it and held it against him.
‘I want to please you,’ he said against her skin. ‘Tell me what you want.’
For a girl of nil experience it was a tall order. Even while she was drowning in this new dimension of feeling Katie recognised that. She was shaken by wild, soundless laughter.
‘Anything. Everything.’
To him it must have sounded the last word in sophistication.
‘My pleasure,’ he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.
Even so, he stayed unhurried. Gentle but insistent. Wringing every last ounce of sensation from her. Unbelieving, Katie could hear her own voice, unrecognisably harsh, as those long, clever fingers brought her to the edge of the volcano and kept her there. . .kept her there. . .
She rose in his arms, sobbing.
‘Please.’
He drew a sharp breath and bent his head. Katie felt his tongue flickering about her nipples. Her whole body convulsed. His touch intensified.
Katie hardly knew what she was doing. She wound her fingers into his hair. The precipice approached. She strained towards it. He murmured something; she was not sure what. Her body took up a new rhythm which he seemed to recognise but was utterly strange to her. And then—and then—her head fell back. She cried out.
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