Playing Safe

by Claudia Jameson

  It was another hour before everything became clear to her, before her tears abated and she became thoroughly calm, almost unnaturally calm. Suddenly she knew the answer to all her questions, and to most of his. Suddenly, shockingly, she knew why she had become so uncharacteristically violent with him. She knew why she was reluctant to make love with him. She knew why his suggestion of marriage had insulted her to such an extent. It was not what he wanted, it was just the price he was prepared to pay, her price, as he thought. But for her…for her, marriage to Demetrius was a glorious and glittering prospect.

  In other words, she was in love with him. It explained it all. She loved him, very, very deeply.

  She turned over in bed, in the hope that she would go to sleep. At least she knew, now, what it was that ailed her. But as Demetrius had said, 'So what happens next?'

  That was one question she did not have the answer to.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jillian was just making coffee when the phone rang in The Beauty Parlour the next morning. Grace reached for it. She hadn't slept at all the previous night, not even for an hour, and her nerves were jangling. She didn't want to be in work, but they were fully booked that morning. Melissa was among the bookings and was due in at eleven-thirty.

  She took a deep breath, certain it would be Demetrius ringing. 'The Beauty Parlour, may I help you?'

  'Grace? At last! I was ringing you for ages last night. It was late, but I know you're rarely in bed before midnight.'

  It was her father, his voice animated, excited. She felt sick; she had been so sure it was Demetrius calling. Last night and now. But it wasn't, hadn't been. 'No, Daddy. I—was probably in the bath or something.'

  'Are you all right?' Her despondency was obviously showing in her voice, and she made a monumental effort to brighten up. He had something important to tell her. Why else would he ring her so late at night, so early in the morning?

  Grace didn't need three guesses as to his news. She psyched herself up to give the right response, determined not to let him down with lack of enthusiasm. 'I'm fine, Daddy, absolutely fine. What about you? Did you have a good weekend?'

  'Phyllis and I didn't get back to London till eleven or so last night. We had a good weekend in Warwickshire, very successful. Did I mention that her daughter was taking the train up from Cambridge? Oh. Well, she did. So we were all together, her daughter, her son and his family. He has two delightful boys, aged three and four.'

  Grace waited while he rambled, smiling to herself in spite of her depression. How proper her father was! He had had to meet all Phyllis' family, get their nod of approval, had brought Phyllis to meet his family, had had their nod of approval. And then… 'Anyway, we got back around eleven, as I say. I dropped her off and—and guess what?'

  'What?' She wasn't going to steal his thunder.

  'I asked her to marry me and she accepted!'

  'Oh, Daddy, that's marvellous!'

  'Isn't it just?'

  'Have you set the date?'

  'Not the actual date, but we'll marry in August, probably the latter half.'

  'August? But that's ages away, why wait so long?'

  'Parliament, of course. We intend to have a three or four-week honeymoon, so we're waiting until they recess for the summer holidays.'

  Parliament. Of course. 'Well, that is good news. Congratulations, Daddy!'

  'Thank you, darling. I'll talk to you later. 'Bye.'

  He hung up, leaving her to stare at the telephone. It had been no surprise, but—well, she just hoped she had reacted appropriately. She was happy for him. For Phyllis, too.

  'Your coffee, Grace.' Jillian put a steaming cup in front of her, smiling. 'If you'll forgive me for saying so, you look as if you need this. You OK?'

  'I'm fine.'

  'I wouldn't go that far. Did you have a rotten weekend?'

  Grace looked up at her, nodding. 'Rotten.'

  Belle Wakeham came in then; she tied her pet poodle to the leg of the cane sofa in the reception area, beaming broadly. 'What a beautiful day, Grace!'

  Was it? She hadn't noticed. It crossed her mind that she could tell Belle her father's news, but she didn't. He would probably want to tell people himself, which was understandable. Even when Belle mentioned Sir Nigel, Grace kept quiet about his forthcoming marriage.

  'How's your father, Grace?'

  'He's fine, thanks.'

  'And Phyllis?'

  Grace nodded. When she had told her of Phyllis Radcliffe's visit to the manor over Easter, Belle had admitted that she knew Phyllis. 'I knew your father was seeing her in London, but I couldn't say anything to you because Phyllis told me you didn't know—when they first started seeing one another, I mean.'

  'They were silly, don't you think?' Grace had laughed at the time. 'Daddy seemed to think I might have some objection. He kept it such a big secret, or so he thought—as if it's any of my business.'

  'Well, I've known Phyllis for years. She was a patient of my husband over twenty years ago, when we lived in London. I see her from time to time, when I go in to town. We have lunch together occasionally. As a matter of fact, your mother met her once, only once to my knowledge. It was years ago, I introduced your mother to her, the three of us had lunch and they got on well. It's rather a nice thought that, isn't it?'

  Grace had agreed. A nice thought, that her mother had liked the woman her husband would marry many years later.

  'Life is strange, isn't it?' Belle said now. 'I think your father will end up marrying Phyllis, don't you?'

  'I shouldn't be surprised.' Grace glanced at her watch, a gesture that was misunderstood.

  'Am I holding you up, dear?'

  'No, no. I just—I'd lost track of the time, that's all.' It was almost nine. Demetrius would have been in his office for an hour by now. Would he ring her?

  Should she ring him?

  'I'll get on, anyway,' Belle said. She was having half an hour on the sun-bed to begin with, as usual. Grace let her go, glancing uncertainly at the telephone. She was getting a headache, there was a tight band of pressure from temple to temple, and the tension inside her was chronic.

  What if he didn't ring her? What if it was…over? She was still angry about his proposal, it had been a crazy thing to say. But it had been said on the spur of the moment, when he was hardly himself. Was she making excuses for him? Yes. Still, the idea of not seeing him again was intolerable, intolerable. That and so many other thoughts were combining to make her feel dizzy.

  She went into the tiny kitchen in search of some aspirin. Jillian was there, having a quick cigarette and a cup of coffee before she started work. Grace took the aspirin and locked herself in the loo. It was the only place she was assured of privacy. She had to think.

  Ten minutes later she emerged. She had made a decision, she was going to ring Demetrius. Mavis was already with her first client, and Jillian's first client was in reception, was just being shown to a cubicle by her. The coast was clear.

  She picked up the receiver and dialled, asking for extension nineteen when she got through.

  'I'm sorry,' she was told, 'Mr Knight's extension is engaged. He's been on the telephone all morning, actually.' Grace was privy to this information, probably because her voice was so familiar to the switchboard. They knew her by now at the offices of DKK Holdings. 'Can I take a message, have him ring you back?'

  She lost her nerve. 'No, I—you needn't mention I called.' The instant she hung up, the phone jangled and she picked it up again.

  'Grace? You were engaged a moment ago. Listen, something's come up.' It was Demetrius, sounding as if nothing at all had happened between them! She couldn't say a word, her heart was thumping so hard she could barely breathe.

  'It's a damned nuisance, but I have to go to Scotland for a few days,' he went on. 'I'm not sure when I'll be back, but we can certainly fix a date for the end of the week. Friday night at the latest, I'll definitely be back by then.' There was a pause. 'Are you there, Grace?'

  'I'm her
e. I—just tried to ring you, actually.'

  'You did?' His pleasure, his relief, was unconcealed. Quietly he added, 'I thought… I didn't think you would ring me.'

  'I didn't think you'd ring me.' There were tears in her eyes. She closed them. Dear God, she loved him so much! She couldn't fight it any longer, not any longer. 'I'll look forward to seeing you on Friday at the latest, then.'

  'If I'm going to be home sooner I'll ring you. Please keep an eye on Melissa while I'm away.' Another pause. 'I want to talk to you, Grace. I'm only sorry I can't see you tonight.'

  So was she, not that there was anything to talk about, in her opinion. What was there to say, really? Hadn't they said it all, thrashed it all out, last night? She didn't see that talking was going to get them anywhere, something far more positive was needed.

  'We'll have dinner on Friday,' Demetrius was saying. 'We'll go out so we can be sure of being alone.'

  'No.' Grace said the word firmly, as firmly as her mind was made up. 'Come to my house. I doubt very much whether my father will come home this weekend. So we'll have dinner there, alone, and when Matty's gone to bed, we'll go to bed.'

  The silence that followed seemed endless.

  When Demetrius spoke, it was in a voice so neutral, she couldn't begin to guess what he was thinking. 'Would you care to repeat what you just said? I don't think I caught it.'

  She repeated it.

  Then she knew what he was thinking, at least, she knew he was furious with her. 'If I could spare the time, I'd come round there, put you over my knee and wallop you! Do you hear me? Unfortunately, I can't because I have to leave right now. So I'll pretend I didn't hear what you said. I'll be in touch.'

  He hung up before she could say another word. Again she was staring at the phone, but this time she was at a loss to believe what she'd heard. Never in a million years would she have expected him to react like that! What was he so angry about? What had she done wrong now? Surely he ought to have been—what was the matter with the man?

  It was a busy, fraught Monday morning. The phone kept ringing, or so it seemed, two people came in on chance, without appointments, and had to be turned away, and when Melissa arrived at eleven-thirty she was in a state of excitement so acute that Grace didn't know what to do with her.

  'I have to talk to you!' The words came bubbling from the younger girl before the bell on the outer door had stopped tinkling. 'Can we skip the facial and go out for a cup of coffee, instead?'

  'A cup of coffee?' Grace repeated the words blankly. Melissa's cheeks were flushed with excitement, her dark eyes glowing. 'But—what's up?'

  'Nothing, everything. Oh, it's all so marvellous, Grace! But you've got to help me, you've just got to. If you don't, I… I don't know what I'll do!' Her face clouded, changing from radiance to near despair in a split second.

  Grace didn't even try to make sense of it, she gave in and agreed to go out for coffee. Melissa had booked an hour of her time, so it made no difference to anyone or anything. 'Give me a moment. I'll just have a word with Jillian and switch the telephone answering-machine on. Do sit down a moment, Melissa, stop hopping around like that, you're making me nervous.'

  Getting more agitated than she was already was to be avoided. Ever since Demetrius' phone call, Grace had been on pins. She was dreading Friday rather than looking forward to it, couldn't imagine what he wanted to say to her… let alone what he had made of her offer to go to bed with him. She had thought she understood the man very well, but she was beginning to doubt that now.

  'You know Demetrius has had to go to Scotland?' The question came from Melissa, who couldn't bring herself to sit down. 'He phoned me just before my taxi came.'

  'Yes, he phoned me, too.'

  'You two had a fight last night, didn't you? I heard your raised voices, but I couldn't make out what you were saying.'

  Grace looked at her quickly. Had she really not made out what had been said? 'That's none of your business.'

  'I know it isn't. I'm not asking.' There was a careless shrug. Grace marvelled at it. Whatever was eating at the girl had to be very important indeed.

  Fifteen minutes later, Grace got to hear about it. They had gone to a coffee shop next door but one. Melissa didn't even touch her cup. 'I've found the course I want to do! It's perfect!'

  'The course?' For a moment Grace didn't know what she was referring to. 'What course?'

  'Grace! The course in interior design and decoration, what do you think I'm talking about?'

  'But… but you haven't said anything really positive about this in weeks—'

  'I couldn't until I'd decided exactly what I was going to do, where I was going, could I? I had to plan properly, it's what Demetrius would expect. I've been writing off all over the place, and I've had millions of prospectuses. Well, dozens. The course I've found is perfect, perfect! It's a two-year, full-time course and it's very comprehensive. They teach not only—oh, but never mind the curriculum. More importantly, it's a private course, so that will involve fees—but that's all right, Demetrius won't mind paying for me.'

  Grace waited. What Melissa had just said was true…so why was she suddenly looking glum? 'Go on,' she said ominously. 'I've had the good news, let's hear the bad news.'

  Melissa raised her head, she was very near to tears. 'Oh, Grace, you've got to help me. If you don't, Demetrius will never buy the idea.'

  'Get to the point, Melissa. Explain yourself.'

  'Well, it's…the course is at an academy in Paris.'

  'Paris?'

  'You see! If that's your reaction, you can imagine how Demetrius will feel about it.'

  'But why Paris? Surely you could find something suitable in England, in London? Why Paris, for heaven's sake?'

  'Because it's what I want, that's why. I have a friend there, an ex-schoolfriend who lives there with her parents. I've kept in touch with her since we left the convent. Her parents are very respectable, they have a huge house and… I can live with them.'

  It was beginning to make sense, a little. 'Have they said so?'

  'I got a letter this morning. They said they'll be delighted, it will be company for Marianne. She's an only child, you see. She's at college, too.'

  'Have you actually been accepted on the course? What about having an interview? I thought—'

  'There wasn't any need. I wrote and told them all they needed to know about me. I speak French as well as I speak Greek and English, you know.'

  'No, I hadn't realised that. Go on.'

  'There isn't much more to tell. I left school with more than enough qualifications.'

  So she had, Demetrius had told her that.

  'In any case,' Melissa went on, 'I've told you, it's a private thing, fee-paying. Why should they refuse me?'

  'Why indeed? Well, haven't you been the busy little bee? Er—I take it you haven't mentioned this to Demetrius yet?'

  Melissa's shoulders slumped. 'What do you think? I heard from the academy two weeks ago, and I wrote again to my friend to tell her I'd been accepted. The letter inviting me to live with them came from her parents after Demetrius had left the house this morning. When he phoned me earlier I had no chance to say anything except bon voyage. He was whizzing off to London, picking up some clothes from his apartment before he took the shuttle to Edinburgh. Business calls and all that. He just told me to behave myself—and he warned me that you would be keeping an eye on me. How's that for trust?'

  Grace smiled. 'But what's the problem? Why do you need my help? What sort of help?'

  'You just don't understand, do you? My passport. Demetrius has it under lock and key, remember? I want to go to Paris earlier than I need to, there's nothing to keep me here. I want to get to know the place, spend some time with Marianne during the summer holidays. But I—I don't think Demetrius will let me go at all.'

  'He still thinks there's a danger of your taking off for Greece, is that it?'

  Melissa nodded miserably. 'Yes.'

  'And is there?'

&nbs
p; 'No.'

  There was several seconds' silence. Melissa was twirling the sugar bowl around the table, avoiding the older girl's eyes. 'Grace, I—you know that there's someone in Athens, someone I was in love with.'

  Grace nodded. 'That's about all I know.'

  'Demetrius hasn't told you the rest?' Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  'No, I swear it. He wouldn't gossip about you, even to me.'

  'No, I suppose not. Well, this boy, he—he comes from a very poor family and…' She broke off, it was obviously still painful for her.

  Grace reached over and covered her hand. 'You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.'

  Melissa looked at her belligerently. 'If I don't tell you, will you still help me persuade Demetrius to let me go to Paris?'

  'Yes,' Grace said honestly, without hesitation. She wasn't going to force the girl to confide in her. She had hoped to earn that trust.

  'Then I'll tell you.' The younger girl smiled, even as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced around to make sure they weren't overheard; the coffee shop was almost deserted. 'I got pregnant. Last summer. In Athens.'

  It was all Grace could do not to show how shocked she was. She hadn't expected this.

  'It gets worse,' she was warned. 'When I left school, I wanted desperately to visit my home again.

  Demetrius took me to Athens for a holiday. We were going to stay the whole summer, he made time especially. I—we'd been there for five weeks when he had to go away. Some emergency had come up, businesswise. We have a maid living in the house, so he didn't worry about my being alone. We also had a gardener, the man who had looked after the grounds since my mother's time there. His son, Nicodemus—Nick, as we called him—was—well, I'd known him when I was a child. Sometimes in the school holidays he came to help his father and— he's very handsome,' she added, looking at Grace almost pleadingly.

  Grace nodded. 'And you had a crush on him.' The response to that was defiant. 'I believed I was in love with him, Grace.'