But the evening stretching endlessly, which was all right by her since she had no wish to go to bed, when having thought she had successfully rid herself of thoughts of Ellis, Rod undid all her good work by bringing his name up when referring to his having telephoned him for her number.
Inwardly despairing, Sorrel kept a smile on her face, her powers of invention sometimes brilliant, she owned, as without turning a hair she told Rod:
'He could have saved you and himself the trouble,' and smiling still, she explained, 'He wanted the address of a mutual acquaintance in Wiltshire—had he been sure in advance that we would bump into each other at the theatre tonight, he could have saved himself a phone call.'
Regardless that it had been past two in the morning when Rod took her home, he would again not have minded had Sorrel invited him in for a 'minute or two'.
But he knew it was not on the cards, as with a smiling, 'Thank you for a lovely evening,' she inserted her key into the door of her flat.
'Are you doing anything tomorrow?' he asked, not one to let the grass grow.
'Call me,' she invited, as she again avoided his lips by bidding him, 'Goodnight, Rod.'
It seemed to Sorrel that she had only just closed her eyes when there was a knocking at her door to awaken her. Still half asleep, she opened her eyes to see from her clock that it was half past eight.
Not surprised to find, since she had slept only fitfully the night before, and had only been in bed a few hours since Rod had brought her home, that she had slept past her usual waking up time, she dragged herself out of bed and wrapped a robe about her. Her mind was still sluggish as she went to see who was calling in what seemed to her, in her still half asleep head, to be the middle of the night.
To see a business-suited Ellis Galbraith standing there, a hint of a smile on his mouth as he witnessed the pink bloom of being newly awakened on her, her thick sunkissed hair out of the knot in which she wore it these days, and cascading in a tumble of tousled waves about her shoulders, had the same effect as if she had just splashed her face in cold water.
'What…' she gasped, and was speechless for a moment, until, not waiting to be invited, Ellis did no more than put her to one side, when he calmly stepped over her threshold and closed the door. 'What the…' she began again, and having on the instant built up a full head of steam, 'How did you get in?' she demanded. 'And what,' she fired, her sophisticated image nowhere to be seen, 'do you mean by waking me when I was fast asleep?'
Unaware of how attractive she looked with her robe thrown carelessly about her, the blaze of fire in her eyes, she was not made any sweeter when, his eyes lingering over her, Ellis took his time before he answered.
'One of the other residents let me in on his way out.' And his eyes still on her, he had the insolence to remind her of how, in her eagerness to get to work in the old days, she used to catch the seven-thirty bus. 'In the old days you used to get out of bed with the birds.'
'This isn't…' she started to flare—but she broke off abruptly when he glared at her with a look of sudden and unpremeditated fury. And, while bewildered that his expression was all at once threatening murder, she was to stand open-mouthed as Ellis moved and she heard him roar:
'Or were you not in bed alone?
Her eyes like saucers, she saw him stride past her; and go storming in search of her bedroom! Her disbelieving eyes following him, Sorrel was having to believe that in his amazing audacity, he was checking for himself to see if indeed she had slept alone!
The utter nerve of him had her recovering, to be as instantly furious as he had been. Spluttering with rage, she chased after him. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?' she yelled when, not a yard separating them, she found him looking at her empty bed.
As quickly as it had come, his fury drained from him, and she saw a muscle jerk in his jaw. A moment later he was growling, 'God knows.' And in the next moment, just as though she hadn't already had enough shocks since she had opened her eyes, Ellis was reaching for her and was pulling her into his arms.
The bliss that having his arms around her would have afforded, if she let it, was not to be thought of, and Sorrel was having to fight with all she had to stay angry. For Ellis was making no attempt to kiss her— though that, she thought agitatedly, did not mean that he might not do so before he was finished. But she could not allow that.
She gave a heave to get herself free, but on finding that that proved useless, for he still held her firmly to him, she was left with having to try to shock those arms from around her.
'If it's your intention to rape me, Ellis Galbraith, then damn well get on with it!' she said heatedly. 'If not, then clear off!'
She knew he was laughing even before she got to the end. His laughter was unexpected. But what was even more unexpected was that she should see the funny side of it too.
She was still in his arms when, laughter bubbling up inside her, she looked up to see his mirth-filled face. She could not hold it in; laughter, natural laughter, was forcing her lips apart, and had burst beyond her control from her, curving her mouth upward as she looked at him.
Her heart drumming, her laughter as suddenly fell away from her as she felt a sudden fear, with Ellis looking into her eyes, he might see more than she would want him to see. Quickly she dipped her head. But weakness was attacking her, and for long moments, their laughter done with, she just could not find the strength to obey her head and again attempt to get away from him. But I must, said that desperate voice within her, and she had found that moment of strength to push at him.
For her pains, Ellis's arms tightened fractionally about her. 'Let me hold you for a moment,' he murmured, his tone soothing, making her too weak as her strength left her just then to endorse her 'clear off' statement with another push at him.
Her limbs like so much water, she leant against him. More weakness invaded her when she felt the touch of his lips against her hair and the breath of his, 'Your hair smells the way it always did,' just as though he had never forgotten the fragrance, as his hands warmed her skin through the material of her robe.
How long she stood like that within the circle of his arms, mindless of anything, with no thought in her head of the brokenhearted struggle it had been to recover from his rejection of her before, she had no idea. But it was Ellis's timely reminder of the heartbreak she had endured when he said softly to the top of her head, 'You're still the girl I used to know, aren't you, Sorrel?' that she came rapidly away from his seduction of her senses.
Her body stiffened, in his hold and the cold look of her as she raised an unsmiling face, made him loosen her from his embrace.
Smartly she took a step away from him. 'You're wrong, Ellis,' she told him, no heat in her. But he was shaking his head to contradict her before she had finished.
'Don't lie to me—you never used to,' he reminded her, which she saw must weaken his argument in that she must have changed if she could lie to him now when she had never done so in the past. 'The girl I used to know would smile, laugh with her eyes before that smile had time to reach her mouth. You did it again just now,' he said. 'You laughed with me, and not five minutes ago showed me that you're still the same Sorrel you used to be.'
She took another step from him. Her peace of mind when he had gone demanded that she get through to him that there was no trace in her now of the trusting teenager she had been.
But all her reserves were called upon before she had the strength to look at him again. Before she could find the cool sophisticated manner she wanted to be able to tell him coldly:
'I'm no longer the girl who made such a fool of herself over you.' He looked set to argue still, she saw, and she moved in swiftly then to tell him, 'Nor would I want to be, Ellis.'
That stopped him. His eyes never more serious, he stood where he was, his eyes never leaving her face. She thought that he was still going to argue, but then suddenly his stern expression left him, and his face was breaking in less severe lines, when quietly the question left
him:
'I hurt you very badly, didn't I?'
Sorrel was becoming more and more practised in the offhand shrug; she put in some more practice as she lied, 'I was over that years ago.' To her mind, then, it was more than time that Ellis went on his way.
She made her intention of seeing him out obvious by turning from the bedroom and moving towards her flat door. Whether Ellis had had any particular reason for calling and getting her out of bed she neither knew nor cared any longer. She wanted to be by herself. Or more precisely, she wanted him out of her flat, and out of her life where up until a few days ago she had thought he safely was.
A slight surprise touched her when without further argument, Ellis moved to stand near her. What was going on behind those dark depths of his eyes, she had no way of knowing. But she could be sure that it wasn't from any feeling of sensitivity for her and the pain he had caused her in the past that he was leaving.
Though, when it looked as though he would go without so much as another word, as she left the door he turned, his voice light and easy, as he made the offer:
'I'll hang on and give you a lift to your office.'
Silently, Sorrel looked at him, not moving as she took in the fact that he plainly thought she had continued in secretarial work after he had sacked her, and that he thought she had brought her office skills to London.
Though when she had neither gone to bathe and get dressed, and in fact had not moved so much as one step, his easy look disappeared. She saw the way his eyes narrowed as, knowing she came not from moneyed people, he looked round the room and took in her expensive furnishings. She was not surprised when she saw the glint of dark suspicion come into those all-seeing eyes.
'With the sort of job you must have,' he commented after several still moments, 'you most likely run your own car.'
He was giving her all the time she needed to answer. But when she had said not one word to confirm the suspicion that was growing in him, his voice sounded tough when he asked, 'Do I need to give you a lift to your office?'
Sorrel had been looking for a way to get him out of her life. But now that she had that way, she found that the words to end their re-acquaintance were not so easy to part with.
'I—do have a car,' she told him at last, her head coming up, ready for his suspicious mind to quickly find any answers outstanding. 'But I don't have a job to go to.'
Ice was there in an instant. His face had gone hard as he clipped, 'Who pays for all this?' And, not waiting for her to tell him, 'Drury?' he charged angrily.
'No,' she said sharply. But, remembering the contempt she had seen in his eyes for Wenda Sykes only last night, she would not in any case have told him about old Mr Ollerenshaw. 'In fact,' she said, and wanting him out of there, she went past him to hold the door wide, 'the man who pays for—my life style—is no one you know.'
It was ten o'clock before Sorrel found the energy to go and get showered and dressed. Ellis had gone on his way despising her that he thought she was some man's kept woman—how much more he would despise her if he knew where the money for her expensive apartment and all its trappings had come from!
That she was having to face the fact that she still loved Ellis, and was doubtful now that she had ever stopped loving him, was something she had tried to avoid ever since she had walked into the Drury's drawing room a few nights ago.
And that was the reason she had had to make sure that Ellis did not phone her or call at her flat to see her ever again. He might have had his mind on some small dalliance with her, but, remembering how her heart had pounded to be in his arms not two hours ago, she knew that he must again be cut out of her heart. Never again could she let him get close to her. It had wrung her dry to get over him before. She could not bear to go through all that trauma again, all that hurt. She just couldn't face it. To be rejected by him a second time would destroy her.
CHAPTER FOUR
When first one week went by and then another since that morning when Ellis had walked out of her flat, so any lingering touch of fear in Sorrel that she might answer her door or phone to find it was him slowly dwindled and finally died.
As she had suspected, Ellis had no time for her now he thought she must have some wealthy lover. No doubt he had decided too that, since she lived alone, her lover must be a married man whom she only saw when he could get away from his wife. Well, that, to her way of thinking, was all right by her. She didn't want Ellis forever contacting her when least expected—she would never have a chance to forget him that way.
Though in the two weeks that followed that morning when for a few moments he had held her in his arms, she was to find that her head was so full of him that she had done nothing about discarding the life style she now found alien. Nor had she found time to think very deeply about what she was going to do about Rod Drury. And that she was going to have to do something about Rod had been borne in on her more and more recently by the odd remark here and there, and by those unwanted warm glances he would send her way.
Sorrel was getting ready to go to some party or other with Rod that night when, finding herself selecting any dress at random, the party having so little meaning for her, she suddenly realised that she would just as soon not go.
It was at that point of giving herself a mental shake, that she realised too that she was just not being fair to Rod. True, she had not asked him to grow fond of her. But, having no wish to hurt his feelings, she had done very little save ward off the moments lately when he would have taken her in his arms, to discourage him.
To recognise then that Ellis was the reason she could no longer allow Rod to kiss her on parting, made her try to drum up hate against the man who held her heart. For it was only since his brief reappearance in her life that something inside her had thought to object that any other man should lay claim to her mouth.
But, her word given, committed as she saw it to going to the party with Rod, she determined right there and then that when he brought her home that night, she would tell him she was not going to see him again.
It was a relief to have the decision made—even if part of that relief did stem from knowing if she told Rod what she had to tell him, it would mean, whether she liked breaking promises or not, that promise to attend his parents' wedding anniversary celebrations would be nullified. For neither Rod nor his parents would expect her to attend if she was no longer going out with him.
Everything settled in her mind, the chance of bumping into Ellis again neatly done away with since she would not be anywhere near the Drury's home next Friday, Sorrel finished getting ready, and sat down to await Rod's arrival.
As usual, he was early, his compliments profuse as he observed her in her amber-coloured dress. 'I'm going to be the envy of every man there tonight,' he said proudly, not asking him to come in, Sorrel secured her flat door behind her.
'Will there be many people there?' she asked, more to take his attention away from herself than from any particular interest.
'The world and his wife, I shouldn't wonder,' he replied, setting the car in motion. 'The Fentons don't go in for small parties, but usually have one big one where . they return in one go all the hospitality they've received throughout the year.'
'It sounds fun,' said Sorrel, good manners decreeing that she show some enthusiasm.
As Rod had suggested, the house of Lilian and Vernon Fenton was crammed to the seams. Sorrel found the Fentons a likeable couple, but with the hosts keeping an eye on things, and with so many people moving in and out from the main room to the buffet room and upstairs to where a couple of bedrooms were doing duty as cloakrooms, an informal atmosphere prevailing, it was only for a short while that she and Rod had any sort of conversation with them.
With most of the talk being only the surface sort, Sorrel found the next couple of hours passing pleasantly enough. She had danced, and she had chatted, but if her whole heart wasn't really in it, then she was the only one who knew it.
Rod had introduced her to several people, and they we
re in idle conversation with four other people, when one of the women who had been introduced as Beverly, after a flicked glance to the door, suddenly made the aside to the other female with them:
'Trust dear Cynthia to forget she's pushing forty, and leave it late enough to try and make an entrance!'
There had been no love lost in Beverly's voice. But when Sorrel's eyes, like the rest of the group, went to the door, so any enjoyment she had experienced rapidly departed.
A sick feeling hit the pit of her stomach as her eyes followed Cynthia Armitage already separating from her husband, her loud cry of, 'Darling!' as she kissed and greeted the nearest man, clearly to be heard above the buzz of conversation in the room.
As yet, Sorrel saw that Cynthia seemed in no hurry to go on to the next knot of people, but she knew Cynthia of old. Should she come anywhere near to where she was standing, then regardless of the fact that they were both guests in someone else's home, that would not stop her from making a scene.
'I can't stand this,' Beverly announced suddenly, Cynthia's penetrating voice getting on her nerves, apparently. 'Let's go and get something to eat.'
'Hungry, Sorrel?' asked Rod attentively. And at her statement that she wouldn't mind a bite, the six of them ambled through to the buffet by way of another door.
What Beverly had against Cynthia Armitage, Sorrel never learned. For it was out of sight, out of mind as far as Beverly was concerned when, after a sortie to the buffet table, they joined up again, for conversation again became light and general, with none of them of a mind to return to the other room.
'Midnight,' said Beverly all at once.
And as her husband burst out laughing and explained on her behalf, 'We're not going home by pumpkin, Bev has an early morning date with a set of golf clubs,' amid farewells as two of their number departed, Sorrel saw that Rod looked as though he wouldn't mind being on his way either.
Suspecting that he might have a case he wanted to put in a few hours on early tomorrow morning, she had no objection to following the lead set by Beverly and her husband.
Façade Page 5