Rachel Lindsay - Mask of Gold

by Rachel Lindsay

  'Derek, don't! Margaret might come in.'

  'She'd be delighted to see us like this.' He reached for her again, but she evaded him.

  'No—you mustn't. It isn't right.' 'Why not?'

  'Because it's a pretence.'

  'Not on my part,' he said. 'You know how I feel about you.'

  'That's why I don't…' It was difficult for her to continue, and he caught her hand and squeezed it.

  'Don't be scared of me, Carolyn. I don't deserve it.'

  'I'm sorry,' she said quickly, not liking to see him so humble. 'It's just that when we're alone I'd rather we didn't pretend.'

  'Very well.' Humour returned to his face and his thick curly beard did not hide the amused curve of his mouth. 'I'll just have to do all my loving in public!'

  The next morning Carolyn went to London to help Ella choose her wedding dress. Darien showed then a profusion of sketches and they were immersed in them when Madame Angele came into the room.

  'There's a phone call for Miss Tyssen.'

  Ella followed the vendeuse to her office and Carolyn thumbed through the sketches on her own.

  'They're very lovely,' she said warmly. "You must make the most beautiful clothes in London.'

  'For some of the most beautiful women.'

  Carolyn nonchalantly lit a cigarette. 'I met one of your clients at Miss Tyssen's engagement party. I believe she was wearing a dress of yours—a red taffeta.'

  'Ah yes—Mrs. Anderson. A wonderful person to dress.'

  'Has she been coming here long?'

  'About the same time as yourself. But the dresses she has bought'—he waved his arms—'a fortune. Relatively speaking, of course,' he said hastily.

  'I can imagine,' Carolyn said dryly.

  Ella came back, her face beaming. 'It was Jeffrey. He's had a phone call from Hiram Walsh, the producer. He wants to see him this afternoon.'

  'That's marvellous!'

  'It is, isn't it?' Ella's voice had a lilt of joy Carolyn had never heard before. 'I told him we'll spend the night in town and go to a show.'

  'I'll take the late train back,' Carolyn said.

  'Don't be silly. We can all spend the night at Alvin's flat.'

  Carolyn made no reply. It was stupid of her not to realise Alvin would have a flat in London. Knowing him, he probably had one in most of the capital cities of the world. It was late afternoon before they left Darien's and they took a taxi to an imposing block of flats overlooking Hyde Park.

  A gilt lift whirred them up to the top floor and Ella opened the front door and led the way through a small hall into a spacious lounge. Unlike the house in the country, it was furnished with exquisite antique pieces, the subtle reds and blues of the Persian carpet picked out by the velvet curtains and silk wallpaper set between carved wood panels on each wall.

  'This is much nicer than the house,' Carolyn remarked.

  'Alvin chose all these himself. The house was done by a decorator.'

  'Is it all right if I stay here?' Carolyn asked. 'I wouldn't like to meet—to meet anyone else.'

  'What's that supposed to mean?'

  Carolyn looked down at a pedestal table and ran one finger along the ormolu edge. 'This is cute.'

  'Don't hedge, Carolyn. I know you're not keen on Alvin, but you won't be seeing him here. He's staying down at the house.'

  'I wasn't thinking of your brother.'

  Ella looked blank. 'Then who were you thinking of?'

  Carolyn didn't answer and Ella suddenly giggled. 'Good heavens, you don't think Romaine lives here, do you? Honestly, Carolyn, how naive you are!'

  'Coming from you that's a joke.'

  This time Ella burst out laughing. 'Seems we're both more innocent than we look, but I can assure you Romaine's got her own flat. I suppose Alvin pays for it, but that's not my business.' She fingered the key she was holding. 'You don't think he'd give me the key of his love nest, do you?'

  Carolyn's hands grew clammy. 'It beats me how you can make a joke of it.'

  Suddenly Ella looked sober. 'I'm afraid to take it seriously. At one time I just thought that it was a casual affair, but now I'm not so sure. In the last few weeks he's behaved so strangely.'

  'In what way?'

  Ella took off her jacket. 'It's hard to say. He's morose and difficult and bad-tempered, which is unlike him. He only acts that way when he's upset.'

  Carolyn turned away and stared at a picture on the wall. 'Have you asked him what's wrong?' she asked carefully.

  'Yes.'

  'What did he say?'

  'Just that they're doing some pretty tricky experiments in one of the labs, and that he's worried about it.'

  'Don't you believe him?' Carolyn turned to watch the expression on Ella's face.

  'I don't know. I know he does get worried if they're doing something new at the lab., but I've never known him like this before. If I——-' A ring at the door stopped Ella from continuing and she answered it to let Jeffrey in.

  One look at his face was enough to tell them both that he had heard good news.

  'It's settled,' he said jubilantly. 'Walsh is going to produce my musical and Marine Verne will sing the lead!'

  'That's wonderful. Oh, Jeffrey!' Ella exclaimed, 'I can't believe it.'

  'Neither can I. But Walsh is positive he's on to a winner and he's backing it with hard cash to prove it.' He walked excitedly round the room. 'Just think of it! Even if it's a failure I'll still have proved to myself that I'm capable of doing something that other people want to buy.'

  'What's the musical about?' Ella asked. "You only did the first act at the party.'

  'It's a simple story,' Jeffrey answered. 'Boy meets girl, boy loses girl and boy finds girl again.'

  'And the tide?'

  He hesitated. 'Not a difficult one to remember. It's a pr6cis of quite a few years of my life.'

  'I don't understand.'

  Jeffrey took a step towards his fiancee. Don't you darling?' He caught her hand. 'It's called "Waiting for Ella".' There was a long moment of silence, then Ella suddenly burst into tears.

  'Hey, what's all this about?' He pulled her into his arms. 'If you don't like the tide I'll change it.'

  'It isn't that,' she cried, 'it's just that I never realised you… I never thought you cared.'

  'Not cared about my monkey-face? Why, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

  'But you never said so, and all the time we've been engaged you never said you loved me.'

  'How remiss of me. Why else did you think I waited?'

  She raised a tear-stained face to his. 'I've a lot of money,' she said simply.

  'I thought I had a lot coming to me as well,' he replied, 'and I got engaged to you a long time before I found out about Piotr.'

  Ella's tears fell faster. 'How stupid I am! But it's your fault Every time I asked you how you felt about me you made a joke of it'

  'Because I'm a fool who finds it difficult to put his thoughts into words. That's why I wrote the musical. It's the only way I knew of telling you how I feel about you.' There was no longer any humour on Jeffrey's face, and as he continued to speak his voice was strained. 'When we got engaged for the first time I don't think I did love you—not really. I was delighted you agreed to marry me, of course, but I suppose it was mainly due to the knowledge of who you were. It wasn't until we parted and then you came back again that I realised how much you meant to me. I always expected you to marry somebody else, and when I found you hadn't, I realised what a first-class heel I'd been. That's when I really fell in love with you, and I've been falling in love with you more and more every day.'

  'Oh, Jeffrey I' Ella said, and fell into his arms.

  Carolyn tiptoed from the room and went into the bedroom. If she could have left the flat without Ella worrying about her, she would have done so, for she felt that at a time like this they deserved to be completely alone.

  It was nearly an hour later when Ella came looking for her, her face flushed, her eyes starry.<
br />
  'Carolyn, I'm so happy I could cry!'

  'Not again, honey, you'll overload the pipes.'

  Ella laughed. 'Tonight's really going to be a celebration. Hurry up and get ready.'

  'Count me out. This is strictly between you and Jeffrey.'

  'Don't be an idiot'

  'I'm serious. I'd just as soon stay here and have an early night. I'd feel like a gooseberry if I had to tag along.'

  'I don't like the thought of leaving you—— '

  'It'll suit me fine. And don't hurry back either!'

  When Jeffrey and Ella had left, the flat seemed suddenly quiet Only the muted sound of the traffic in Park Lane indicated that she was in the heart of London. She wandered round and examined the rooms. There were three bedrooms, the largest obviously Alvin's, for it was essentially masculine in its design, with French Empire furniture in deep mahogany and royal blue curtains at the windows. She opened another door and found herself in a perfectly appointed bathroom. Monogrammed silver brushes were on a glass shelf above the sink and hanging on the door was a navy blue dressing gown, a gold letter "A" embroidered on the pocket. The material was smooth and soft, and she held it against her cheek, remembering his aloofness and the rigid way he controlled his expression and words. How lonely he must be in his self-imposed isolation.

  Tears filled her eyes and she took out the handkerchief from the breast pocket and wiped them away. It was ridiculous for the thought of Alvin to make her cry. What was the matter with her? Alvin Tyssen meant nothing in her life. She was just allowing herself to be overcome by the emotion that surrounded

  Jeffrey and Ella. Alvin meant nothing to her. He was cruel and bitter and deserved to be alone. No wonder Rosemary had run away with a man who had made her feel cherished. Any woman unfortunate enough to fall in love with Alvin would have to live with a ghost, for no one could ever penetrate the barrier of his reserve.

  She dropped the dressing gown back against the door and wandered into the kitchen. Evidently a daily housekeeper took care of the flat, for there was plenty of food in the refrigerator, and she made herself an omelette and coffee.

  When she had finished and cleared away it was still only eight o'clock, and she decided to have a bath, instinctively going into Alvin's bathroom.

  She lay soaking in hot water until her skin turned pink and then, on an impulse, washed her hair, rubbing it vigorously with a towel until it clung in damp tendrils round her face. It was only when she was standing completely nude on the bathroom floor that she realised she had no dressing gown and she slipped into Alvin's, shivering with a strange and unexpected emotion as the soft folds fell around her. She combed her hair and could not help smiling at her reflection. Gone was the medieval sophisticate and once again she was the Carolyn of old, looking every inch the homeless orphan.

  A door creaked and there was the sound of footsteps in the next room. Carolyn stood stock still. The footsteps came again, soft and cat-like, and her heart began to pound. Nervously she moistened her lips, trying to remember if she had bolted the front door after Jeffrey and Ella had left. The noise came again—as if someone was opening the cupboards—and she tiptoed across the bathroom floor and silently bolted the door. If the intruder left the bedroom it might be possible to make a dash to the front door. She strained her ears. Yes, there was the noise again, but this time it was louder, for there was a crash and a muffled imprecation. Then the steps came nearer and, petrified, Carolyn saw the bathroom handle turn. The door shook and her mouth went dry.

  'If there's anyone there,' a voice said, 'you'd better come out or I'll call the police.'

  Weakly she started to laugh and pulling back the bolt opened the door to see Alvin.

  'Good lord!' he stared at her. 'What on earth are you doing here?'

  Conscious that she was wearing his dressing gown, she turned scarlet.

  'I—I was having a bath.' 'So I see.' He stepped back and she followed him. 'Close the bathroom door behind you,' he said. 'I'm not partial to steam in my bedroom.'

  Mortified, she obeyed and turned round to see him still looking at her.

  'I'm staying here with Ella and Jeffrey,' she explained. 'He came up to see Hiram Walsh about his musical. They're going to produce it, you know. So they went out to celebrate.'

  'What stopped you from going?' He scanned her from head to foot. 'Or are you expecting your fiance?'

  It took her a moment to understand what he meant, then she stared at him flabbergasted. 'How dare you!' she choked, her cheeks flaming again. 'Do you usually judge people by your own standards?'

  'And what is that supposed to mean?'

  'You know very well! Or do you think your affair with Mrs. Anderson is a secret?'

  'What concern is that of yours?'

  'None!' She swung on her heel. 'And my business is no concern of yours!'

  'Carolyn!' He called her as she reached the bathroom door. 'Carolyn, I'm sorry, I'd no right to be so rude.'

  Amazed at the sudden turnabout in attitude—it was the first time she could remember his ever apologising to her—she swung round to look at him. He had sunk into a chair and was leaning back. His skin was paler than usual, his lips bloodless and the fine, silver-blond hair at his temples and forehead dark with perspiration.

  'I've got a foul headache,' he said softly, 'and I'd no right to vent it on you.'

  'Why don't you lie down?'

  He covered his eyes with his hand. 'I'll be all right in a moment. It's just these damn lines that keep waving in front of me.'

  'Migraine,' she said quickly. 'There's no point fighting it. Have you anything to take for it?'

  'There are some pills in the bathroom cabinet, but they don't always do the trick.'

  'An injection would probably be better—quicker too.'

  'How professional you sound.' His words were blurred and indistinct. 'I was forgetting you're a nurse. The solicitude must come naturally to you.'

  She ignored the sarcasm. 'Get into bed and I'll give you your pills and a hot drink.'

  She collected her clothes and took them into another bedroom. Hurriedly she dressed again and went into the kitchen to make a drink. When she returned to Alvin's room he was lying against the pillows, his pyjamas of dark grey silk unbuttoned at the neck, his hands lying tightly clenched on the coverlet. He had taken off his glasses and his eyes were closed.

  'Have you had your pills?'

  'No.'

  She went into the bathroom and came back with two tablets and a glass of water.

  'Take these and then have this tea.'

  He half sat up and opened his eyes. It was a shock to look into them, and she saw with concern that the pupils were contracted, the eyelids bruised and sunken. He swallowed the pills and sipped the drink.

  'I'll turn out the light and leave you. If you want me I'll be in the lounge.'

  'I can manage on my own,' he said quietly. 'If you've made any plans '

  'My plans were a hot bath and bed—alone.'

  He lifted his hand and caught hers. 'I'm sorry, Caro. Please forgive me.'

  Her heart seemed to miss a beat. Try and go to sleep,' she whispered, 'it'll make you feel better.'

  'I'll try.'

  Carolyn switched on the electric fire in the lounge and sat down before it on the floor. Poor Alvin 1 With such strong lenses he was probably a martyr to headaches. And working in the laboratories under artificial light would not help either. She could imagine him poring over test tubes until pain made it impossible for him to see. Only then would he give in and go home. But once Ella married there would be no one to take care of him unless he were to get married himself.

  She jumped up and resolutely picked out a book from the shelf. She had been reading for a long time when the lounge door opened and Alvin came into the room. He was wearing his dressing gown and his hair was slightly dishevelled. She jumped up and came towards him.

  'Are you feeling better?'

  'Yes, thank you. Faintly hungry, which is always
a good sign.'

  'I don't suppose you've eaten.'

  He smiled apologetically. 'The thought of food earlier nauseated me. Have you had your dinner?'

  'An omelette and toast, but that was ages ago.'

  'Then I'll get dressed and take you out.' 'I wouldn't dream of it. There's a stack of food in the kitchen and I can rustle up a meal for you as long as you don't expect a chefs dinner.'

  'I have a chef. I'd rather appreciate some simple home cooking.' He blinked his eyes and put his hand in his pocket for his glasses.

  'Don't put them on,' she said impulsively. 'I'm sure they don't help. Why not give your eyes a rest?'

  'Very well.' He sat down in an armchair and rested his head against the back. Carolyn took a step towards him impelled by a desire to hold him close. Furious with herself, she moved back. She must be crazy to think of Alvin in these terms. Because he had been ill in no way altered his behaviour or her opinion of him. She must not confuse pity with any other emotion.

  'Go inside and sit down,' she said abruptly. 'I'll call you when supper's ready.'

  'Can't I watch you make it?'

  'If you like.'

  'I would like. I've rarely got the opportunity to be in a kitchen.'

  Conscious of him watching her, she searched for tins in the small pantry and set about preparing a mushroom omelette.

  'Smells good,' he said as she started heating the butter in a pan.

  'Will you eat here or in the lounge?'

  'It's less bother to have it here. I can't remember the time when I had a meal in the kitchen.'

  'Weren't you ever a little boy?' She turned the omelette on to a plate and set it on the table. She piled up the toast and poured out the coffee. 'Sit down and have it before it gets cold.'

  'Of course I was a little boy,' he said as he began to eat, 'but Ella and I weren't allowed in the kitchen.'