by Joy Wodhams
“Oh yes, Miss Stevens!”
“Mr Nicholson has begged me several times to marry him. I'm still considering whether or not to accept his proposal.” That should scotch any gossip about handsome seducers and spinsters with repressed passions, she decided.
“Oh, marry him, Miss Stevens! I would – I mean, if he asked me.” Amanda's round blue eyes misted. “I think he's lovely!”
“I thought you liked Darren,” said Gabriella, mentioning one of the boys in the drawing office.
Amanda pulled a face. “He's all right, but he's so serious. Always at night school or studying. And he's not very handsome.”
“Handsome is as handsome does,” said Gabriella.
“What does that mean, Miss Stevens?”
“Nothing.”
****
“Good, wasn't it?” said Bernard as they emerged blinking into the brightly lit foyer of the Arts Centre.
“Yes,” said Gabriella, although the Film Society re-run of “One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest” could have been a Charlie Chaplin comedy for all the attention she had given it. The burden of what she had to tell Bernard weighed heavily. She wished she had plucked up courage to speak when he picked her up at seven o'clock.
“Jack was brilliant, of course. You can usually rely on him.”
Why must he always refer to actors by their first names? she wondered fretfully. Anyone would think he was personally acquainted with them. “I thought he was a bit mechanical in parts,” she argued, just to be contrary.
“Really?” Bernard's light grey eyes widened. He nodded slowly. “Well, you could be right.”
And why must he always agree with her? “Oh, do stop it!” she burst out as he continued to nod. “You look like one of those things people hang in the back of cars.” She was fully aware that she was behaving badly but she couldn't help it.”
“Are you sure you're all right, Gabriella? You seem very tense.”
She sighed. “I'm sorry, Bernard. I didn't mean to snap. Take no notice of me.”
He peered into her face. “You can't fool me, Gabriella. I know you too well.”
“Oh, for heaven's sake!” she snapped again.
“Well, what about a drink?” he suggested, backing off. “The upstairs bar is open.”
She shook her head. “Let's go for a walk. Down to the river.”
He helped her on with her coat, his fingers light on her shoulders. She could feel his breath, mint scented, and moved away. At this moment she couldn't bear him to touch her. Outside, rain sheened the pavements and she tucked her chin into the collar of her coat.
“It's raining,” he said.
“Worried about getting wet?” Her voice was acid.
“No, of course not.”
They walked in silence past the golden lit windows, the shadowed office doorways. Someone came out of an Indian restaurant and the warm smell of curry drifted across the street.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“No.” She could sense his bewilderment and his desire to propitiate her, like a puppy dog that doesn't know why it's being punished, and she hated herself, but something in her wanted to goad him, pick a quarrel, make it all his fault.
They reached the bridge and stopped halfway across. She leaned against the parapet and gazed at the barges moored below, listening to the slap of water against their bows.
“Fancy a canal holiday this year?” asked Bernard. “We could hire a narrowboat. Someone at the office who went on the Kennet and Avon last year told me -”
“Bernard.”
“Yes?”
“I can't go on holiday with you.”
“No? Is your mother worse?”
“It's not that/”
“Money? You know I'll always help if -”
“Bernard, there's something I have to tell you. It's – not easy. I wish there were some way ...” She fell silent. It was going to be even harder than she had anticipated.
She began again. “We've known each other a long time, haven't we? And – I've always valued your friendship, Bernard.”
“Friendship?”
“And consideration. I'm – very fond of you, you know that, and we've had some very good times together. But – perhaps it's time to – to -”
“To what?” He waited. “To what, Gabriella?”
“We can still be friends. I hope we always will be – but I think it might be better if – if we both saw more of other people.”
“You're trying to tell me there's someone else, aren't you?”
She turned sharply. “How did you know?”
He glanced at her, glanced away. “You've been acting strangely all evening. I guessed something was wrong, it's not like you to be cruel, sarcastic.”
She closed her eyes. Oh Bernard, forgive me.
“And then, just now ...Well, I just knew.”
“I'm so sorry, Bernard. I didn't plan for this to happen.
He turned from her, hunched his shoulders away when she reached to touch him. She stood there helplessly, trying to read from his unmoving profile just what he was feeling, trying to imagine how she would feel if their situations were reversed.
For a long time he was silent, then: “Rushed you off your feet, did he?”
That at least was true. In a sense. “You could say that.”
“Who is he?”
“Does it matter?”
“I'd like to know.”
“Someone at Englands,” she told him reluctantly.
“I suppose he's better looking than me. More successful.” His voice was bitter.
“Oh Bernard, don't belittle yourself. It's nothing to do with looks or success. If you must know -” But of course she couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell anyone, least of all Bernard, who might well let something drop to her mother. “He's no better than you, really he isn't. It's just – something different. I can't explain, I wish I could,”
“Well, at least you've made it clear that I mean nothing to you.”
“That's not true. You must know I care about you. And I respect you tremendously.”
“Respect! If I'd shown a little less respect for you, maybe this wouldn't have happened.”
“Bernard,” she said miserably. “You really don't understand.”
“I wanted us to have a solid start. I had it all worked out. As soon as I'd taken my finals – As soon as I'd saved enough -”
“This isn't about money, Bernard.” But it was.
“I wanted things to be right for us. For you. But I was wrong, wasn't I? I should have just grabbed you. Like he did.”
“It's not like that -”
“I suppose you've already slept with him.”
“No!”
“What's he like, Gabriella?How does he hold you? How does he kiss you? Like this?” And Bernard's arms were round her, pulling her to him. She felt the edge of the parapet cut into her back as he pressed against her. His lips sought hers, ground brutally, and she tasted salt blood as she struggled to free herself.
“Bernard!” She wrenched her mouth away. “Please, you're hurting me
Abruptly he let her go, stood back. She clung to the parapet, more shaken than she could have imagined. A shaft of moonlight pierced the clouds, lit his face, and she saw how desolate he looked.
Poor Bernard. So calm and sensible, so apparently lacking in ardour. And yet, what passion hidden beneath that stolid exterior. Their cosy undemanding relationship had been merely a figment of her imagination. Shame that she could have so misjudged the depth of his feelings moved her to embrace him, to tell him that it was all right, she didn't mean it, she would marry him.
But she couldn't do that. Even if she were not committed to marrying Rod, she knew that marriage to Bernard now was out of the question.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “I never realised you cared so much.”
“Really? After two years?” He lifted a hand, dropped it. Shook his head. “I can't believe you could do this, Gabriella.”
&nbs
p; She turned away, gazed over the quiet river. Sounds of music drifted from the town and a car hooted somewhere, but around them nothing stirred. “You're better off without me, Bernard. You'll find someone else, I know you will.”
“Yes.”
She shivered and pulled her coat tight across her chest, knowing that nothing she said now could make it less painful for him. “Perhaps I'd better go,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I'll get a taxi home. Goodnight, Bernard.”
“Goodnight.”
She turned and left him standing on the bridge.
At home her mother was still awake and more animated than usual.
“Your young man phoned!”
“Bernard? I've just left -”
“No, dear. Rod. Your fiance! We had a lovely long chat.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Do you know, I don't believe he did. It was just after you left, but he did say he'd talk to you in the morning. Such a coincidence, dear, he's a garden lover too. He even offered to take me to the Garden Festival this summer!”
“That was nice of him,” said Gabriella. She would make sure that he kept his promise.
It was another twenty minutes before she could retreat to her own bedroom and relax the tight rein she had kept on her emotions. She found herself already crying as she shut the bedroom door behind her and couldn't stop the tears. They poured down her cheeks as she brushed her hair, trickled into her mouth as she cleaned her teeth, and she didn't know whom she cried for more, Bernard or herself. Her movements rough with self disgust, she scrubbed her face and dragged off her clothes, throwing them into a corner.
She had been so self absorbed, so bent on ensuring that no man could pierce her defences, that she had allowed Bernard to fall in love with her, completely failing to recognise that it had been his own personal code of conduct, not a lack of desire, that had ruled his actions. And now she had hurt him.
If she could be so wrong about Bernard, how could she be sure about anything? Or anyone? Perhaps even Rod had purer motives than she had credited him with. On impulse she pulled on her dressing gown and crept downstairs to the telephone. She dialled Rod's number, hoping that he hadn't planned an early night.
The telephone rang three times and she was about to replace it when it was picked up. In the background she could hear a man's laughter but the voice that greeted her was female.
“Hello? Anyone there? Hello?”
Slowly Gabriella replaced the phone and mounted the stairs to her bedroom. As she hung her dressing gown on the hook and folded and put away the clothes she had flung to the floor, she wondered why it should have hurt so much to hear Sue Landon's voice.
CHAPTER SIX
As soon as she arrived at Englands the next day she dialled Rod's extension. “I'd like to talk to you.”
“Darling, I know none of us are at our best in the morning, but you could sound a little more loving!”
“Please, Rod, I'm not in the mood for play-acting.”
The teasing note left his voice. He became businesslike. “All right, Gabriella. I've got to see Transport now but I'll be back in half an hour. Come and see me in my office then.”
“I'd rather you came to mine -” she started to say but he had already replaced his receiver. Damn him. Sue Landon would no doubt be at her desk and Gabriella had no desire to see the girl before Rod had explained her presence at his house the previous night.
She heard Jenny in the outer office and went through to greet her.
“You look awful,” she said, examining her secretary's drawn features and the shadows beneath her eyes. “You should have stayed home.”
“I'm much better,” said Jenny. “Anyway, I was worried about that report. I know you needed it urgently.”
“I told you on the phone Amanda was doing it.”
“Yes, but you know what Amanda's like. For someone born into the age of computers she gives a good impression of a paralysed rabbit when you sit her in front of one.”
Gabriella smiled. “Actually, apart from a mini disaster at the beginning when she nearly lost the report altogether, she coped well. She could become quite useful when she's gained a little more confidence. Anyway, I appreciate your coming in but it really wasn't necessary. The report's finished and there's not much on the agenda today. Why don't you go home and treat yourself to a day in bed?”
Jenny shuddered. “No thanks. I can't imagine anything more boring. Besides, I wanted to catch up on what's happening with you and Rod. Are you really getting married?”
Gabriella pulled a wry face. “I gather a little bird phoned you.”
“Several.”
“Well, it's true. I would have told you first but you know what the grapevine's like and everything happened so quickly. I haven't quite taken it in myself.”
“But is it what you want?”
“Oh yes,” said Gabriella, but she avoided her secretary's searching glance. Jenny had been with her for more than two years. Although they saw little of each other outside the office they had become good friends. If anyone could see through her pretence Jenny would.
“I'm so pleased,” the girl said. “I know you don't like to wear your heart on your sleeve so I won't keep gushing, but I do wish you all the best. I honestly think you and Rod will be very well suited.”
“My mother said the same thing,” said Gabriella, bu she was surprised to find sensible Jenny echoing her opinion.
“When's the wedding?”
“In six weeks.”
“Not long.”
“There didn't seem much point in waiting. With so many new projects here, we both thought it made sense to go ahead before we get too busy.” She hoped Jenny would accept the explanation.
Jenny nodded. “White?”
“Yes. There's a lot to arrange. I may have to take some time off.”
“Well, you know you can rely on me to look after things here.”
“Thanks, Jenny.” On impulse she said, “I don't suppose you'd like to be a bridesmaid?”
“I'd love it!”
“Good.” Gabriella smiled at the girl, glad that she would have her support but aware that she had just taken one more step towards the point of no return.
****
Sue Landon was at her desk and greeted her with a mocking smile that made Gabriella want to hit her.
“Good morning, Gabriella. Rod's not back yet – is he expecting you?”
“Yes, he is.” Watching Sue pick at the keyboard with long crimson nails she found herself hiding her own hands with their short scrubbed nails in her pockets. She withdrew them, annoyed that she should allow Sue to make her feel inadequate in any way. The girl was beautiful and it was well known that practically every man in the Company regarded her with interest. Including Rod, it seemed. Gabriella smothered a sudden pang. What did she care if he was attracted to Sue? But he would have to stop seeing her outside the office if the marriage was to appear genuine.
“I'll wait in his office,” she said.
“Of course. Can I get you some coffee?” Sue rose from her desk in one fluid movement. Once more Gabriella felt at a disadvantage as the girl, half a head taller, looked down at her.
“I'm far too busy to stop for coffee,” she answered, hearing her own voice sharpen.”
“In that case, let's not waste time.” She felt Rod's warm hand on her shoulder and he was steering her into his office. “I'm honoured,” he said, closing the door firmly behind them. “I hadn't expected such an early visit but I'm sure it's not my personal charm that's brought you here. What do you want, Gabriella?”
She looked at the door. “Sue won't come in, will she?”
He shook his head. “She's well trained. Always waits for an invitation.”
“How chauvinist you sound.”
“Really? Would Jenny interrupt when you had a visitor?”
“No, of course not. But you make Sue sound like an obedient little slave.”
H
e laughed. “Oh, she's far from that! Sue knows her value here – and she can give as good as she gets.”
“I can imagine.”
“But I thought you were anxious to get back. What did you want to see me about?”
You phoned me last night.”
“Yes, I forgot you were meeting your fiance. Did you settle things?”
“Yes.”
He waited but she said no more. “Well, I just wanted to talk to you about the wedding. We'll have to book a church as soon as possible.”
“I called you back.” She hesitated. “Sue answered the phone.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So it was you. Why didn't you ask to speak to me?”
“I didn't want to interrupt anything.” She watched him, but apart from a slight compression of the lips his face told her nothing. “All the same, Rod, I'd advise you to pick your girlfriends from farther afield. If you want the staff to believe in our marriage you should be more discreet.”
He strolled to the window, turning his back on her. His office, on the opposite side of the building from Gabriella's, overlooked an enclosed yard where the firm's vans were stored and she wondered what could be attracting his attention. The morning sun pierced the glass and brought a gloss to his thick dark hair. She noted the way the hair curled on the nape of his neck, just touching the crisp white collar of his shirt. Today he wore a slate grey suit with an almost imperceptible stripe, but the quiet understatement of the fabric and the elegance of the tailoring did nothing to disguise the power of the body beneath.
She looked away as he turned suddenly from the window.
“So. You think I was being indiscreet with Sue Landon?”
“What else am I to think? You wouldn't invite a girl like Sue to your house just to talk about the national debt!”
“Do I detect a note of jealousy?”
Ignoring the flush that was creeping into her cheeks Gabriella gave him a cold stare. “Why on earth would I be jealous?”
“God knows, but the world is full of people with a dog in the manger attitude.”
“Dog in the – How dare you! How dare you!” And now she was fighting back the tears of hurt and anger that pricked her eyelids. How could he be so unfair? Rod himself had stressed the importance of appearances and now, when all she wanted was to ensure there would be no speculation about their marriage, he was attacking her. It could only be guilt. Entangled as he was with Sue – and how many others? - he was trying to transfer the blame. What he said next confirmed it.