Private Lives

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘I intend to,’ he drawled condescendingly, his gaze sweeping over her with mocking pity, his stance one of pure challenge still.

  Fin turned away with a sharp intake of her breath, conscious of that aqua-coloured gaze on her the whole of the time it took her to walk back to the van—and it seemed to take forever!

  What an insufferable man! She didn’t care who he was, he had no right to treat her or anyone else in that arrogantly dismissive way that didn’t just border on being insulting but definitely was!

  And she intended settling the matter of just who he was at the earliest opportunity, and had the proof one way or the other in her bedroom at home. Maybe she should have gone home earlier and done that before making this second visit to him; if what she suspected was true then she might have at least had some ammunition of her own to throw at him among all his insulting behaviour! But in a way she didn’t want her suspicion confirmed, knew things would be much easier if Jake Danvers was exactly who he said he was!

  In the meantime she had to meet Derek for lunch, and the last thing she wanted was to be late for that; God knew, she was going to get enough hassle from him once he knew about the committee meeting this evening!

  ‘No, it’s not on, Fin,’ he reacted with predictable stubbornness when she told him about the meeting once they had eaten their sandwich lunch in the café they usually frequented for that meal. She had thought he might take the news of their broken date better on a full stomach; she had been wrong, and his handsome face flushed with his displeasure.

  As Derek was tall and blond, with rugged Robert Redford-like good looks, Fin had tried, on several occasions, to convince him of how wonderful he would look up on stage himself. All to no avail. He didn’t believe, as a respectable accountant, that he should make himself conspicuous in that way, certainly didn’t believe his clients would have much respect for someone who made such a public exhibition of themselves. Fin’s ‘clients’ were apparently a different matter entirely!

  As her accountant, which was how the two of them had first come to meet, he knew she only earnt a comfortable living doing what she did. In fact, on more than one occasion in the past he had accused her of merely playing at working. With walking the Siamese cat on its lead as her first job directly after lunch, Fin wasn’t so sure that he wasn’t right.

  ‘My mother telephoned this morning and invited us both to dinner tonight, and as we already had a date for this evening I felt confident in accepting for both of us,’ Derek continued reproachfully.

  Then he shouldn’t have done, was Fin’s first thought, not when his invitation had been to take her out for a meal. But she knew she owed a lot of her reaction to still feeling disgruntled from her conversation with Jake Danvers earlier, that she normally wouldn’t have felt this resentment; she liked Derek’s parents, had always got on well with them. But Jake Danvers’s rudeness had upset her, and she had come straight from that encounter to lunch with Derek.

  It was because she knew that Derek’s presumption in accepting the invitation for both of them wasn’t really the reason she felt so irritated that she tried to answer in a reasoning tone. ‘And usually I would be pleased to go, you know that,’ she placated. ‘But tonight’s meeting really is an emergency.’

  Derek looked at her exasperatedly. ‘More important even than our relationship?’ he challenged sharply.

  The two of them had been seeing each other fairly regularly for almost six months now, and, while she didn’t feel any wild racing of her pulse, or a deep yearning to spend every minute of every day with Derek, she did enjoy his company, and the dates they had together; apart from Derek’s resentment towards her interest in amateur dramatics, they actually had a lot in common, and she had to admit that the idea had crossed her mind that Derek might one day ask her to marry him. But his question now sounded to her suspiciously like a direct challenge—possibly a choice between being in the play or going out with Derek.

  She frowned across the table at him. ‘I didn’t think they were in competition with each other,’ she said with slow uncertainty—because if they were it wasn’t a choice she would be able to make without a lot of thought!

  ‘They aren’t, but— Oh, Fin!’ He sighed his impatience with her. ‘You throw yourself one hundred per cent into everything you become involved in—’

  ‘I didn’t think that was such a bad thing,’ she frowned, having always tried to see through to the end any commitment she made—which was why she never made commitments lightly.

  ‘It is if that one hundred per cent doesn’t include me!’ Derek complained irritably, his hand moving to clasp hers across the table. ‘Fin, we’re supposed to be a couple—’

  ‘You’re being unfair now, Derek,’ she cut in dismissively. ‘I don’t complain about the fact that you play squash once a week, that you go to the gym three nights a week after work—’

  ‘Because they were well-established patterns of my life when we first started going out together,’ he claimed defensively. ‘You surely aren’t suggesting I give those up?’

  Heaven forbid! ‘Of course I’m not.’ She shook her head with a rueful smile, gently removing her hand from within his; this was only a café, in the middle of town, in the middle of the day, not a romantic candle-lit restaurant! ‘I’m just claiming the same right to have my own interests without—complaint from you. I was already involved with the Sovereign Players when we met, too,’ she rushed on as she could see he was about to pick her up on her choice of words; but what else could she call it? ‘Admittedly I wasn’t actually acting in the last production,’ she conceded. ‘But I was involved.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I really have to go, Derek,’ she told him briskly after a brief glance at her wrist-watch. ‘I have a lot to get done this afternoon.’

  He eyed her resentfully as she prepared to leave. ‘And dinner with my parents this evening?’

  ‘I’ve just finished explaining why I can’t go out with you this evening,’ she said exasperatedly, not at all impressed with the scowling displeasure on his face. ‘Give your parents my apologies. They’ll understand,’ she said with certainty as he still glared at her.

  ‘Maybe they will,’ he grated with a nod of his head. ‘But I don’t! Perhaps you need to sit down and rethink your priorities, Fin,’ he suggested hardly.

  She grimaced at his stubborn anger. ‘I made a commitment when I went on to the committee of the society; nothing in my life has changed for me to even think about breaking that commitment.’ She sighed her impatience.

  Derek’s expression remained implacable. ‘What about your commit—? Is that what all this is about, Fin?’ he asked with sudden suspicion, eyes narrowed. ‘Are you trying to force some sort of declaration from me about our relationship by your stubbornness over this? Because if you are, it’s—’

  ‘I’m not!’ she snapped, furious—if he could only see it!—at even the suggestion that she would even think of stooping to such subterfuge. She wasn’t even sure what her answer would be if he ever should propose, let alone want to force the issue in any way! She was doing exactly what she claimed she was: honouring a commitment. ‘I think we had better just leave this subject alone for now, Derek,’ she told him tautly. ‘Before one of us—’ and she wasn’t sure which one it was going to be! ‘—says something they will later regret.’ She drew in a controlling breath. ‘Why don’t you telephone me later, and—?’

  ‘You probably won’t be at home!’ He eyed her resentfully still.

  It was obvious, to Fin, at least, that he wasn’t in the mood to be reasoned with at all, that they were only making the situation worse by continuing to talk at all. ‘Derek, maybe you’re the one who needs to sit down quietly and rethink your priorities,’ Fin said quietly.

  He looked alarmed at the finality in her tone. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m not really sure.’ She frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. ‘Maybe—’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bore, darling,�
�� he cajoled regretfully, reaching across the table for her hand once again, smiling encouragingly. ‘Maybe I have been a bit unreasonable—all right,’ he nodded, his smile a little strained now, ‘a lot unreasonable,’ he conceded tightly. ‘I’m a bad-tempered …!’ He shook his head self-disgustedly. ‘I know it’s no excuse for my behaviour just now, but I’ve had one hell of a morning; please forgive me?’ He attempted a little-boy look that didn’t quite come off—perhaps he was right about his decision not to go on the stage! ‘Of course I’ll call you later, Fin,’ he smiled again. ‘Just put my foolishness down to disappointment at not being able to spend the evening with you after all.’

  And his parents, she could have added, but didn’t … God, he made it sound as if they would be forgoing a romantic evening together, when in reality it would be nothing of the sort, not under the watchful eyes of his parents! She liked the Soameses very much, found his father sweet, if a little henpecked, his mother always warm and friendly. But, as Derek was their only child, and at twenty-seven he was still a bachelor, they tended to view all his girlfriends with an eye to their being his future wife. And, although Fin knew by the warm welcome she always received from them that they approved of her, it was still a little unnerving to be constantly under inspection when in their company. Or, at least, to feel as if she was.

  She gently squeezed Derek’s hand before releasing it. ‘I shouldn’t be too late back tonight, if you do want to call me …?’

  He nodded, obviously reassured by her smile. ‘And if you do manage to finish early enough we could still go out for a quiet drink together.’

  ‘Yes,’ Fin agreed vaguely, not wishing to get into another argument, but already sure in her own mind that the meeting tonight would go on for some time. But there was no point in upsetting Derek again now by telling him that, and she did have an appointment to get to … ‘Talk to you later,’ she told him distractedly as she bent to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

  Fido, the Siamese, enjoyed his walk that afternoon, as usual. His name wasn’t really Fido, it was something exotically unpronounceable, which his stockbroker owner shortened affectionately to Filly. But Fin called him Fido for the simple pleasure of watching the expression on people’s faces when she was out walking him on the extended lead she kept in the van for him, and she brought him back to her by calling out ‘Fido’, and this arrogant-looking Siamese cat appeared from whatever spot he had been exploring at the time-usually the dustbins!

  Richard, the cat’s owner, assured her that his little darling could only eat fresh fish lightly steamed, but Fin knew from experience that the ‘little darling’ would sink his delicate little white teeth into anything, given the chance—including her ankles if he was feeling particularly disdainful of the world. Which he very often was!

  Maybe in future she should start to call him Jake …!

  She had deliberately not thought of how objectionable his behaviour had been during her second visit this morning, but he really was the most arrogant, insufferable, totally obnoxious individual she had ever had the misfortune—

  Her indignant thoughts were brought to an abrupt end by a loud cry that sounded like a baby in distress! And when she turned around it was to find that, during her preoccupation with Jake Danvers, Fido had wrapped his lead twice around a lamp-post and was now protesting loudly at the confinement to his movements. Another few seconds and Fin would probably have found herself flat on her backside on the pavement when the lead tightened at her end!

  ‘Thanks for the warning,’ she ruefully told Fido as she untangled him from the lamp-post, receiving an indignant nip or two from pointed white teeth for her trouble. ‘I probably deserved it,’ she crooned softly as she stroked the cat’s silky fur, his chocolate and milky-coffee-coloured markings of championship standard. ‘My mind is firmly back on the job in hand,’ Fin assured him as she placed his delicate paws back on the pavement.

  Obviously thinking of Jake Danvers was dangerous to her health as well as her peace of mind!

  But at the same time she acknowledged that she also knew she had omitted a few of his attributes in her earlier description of him: Jake Danvers was also the most ruggedly attractive man she had ever seen.

  But he could also be something much, much more dangerous …

  * * *

  ‘Oh, Fin, thank God I managed to catch you before you went home!’ Gail breathed her obvious relief.

  Fin frowned at this second telephone call from the other woman in twenty-four hours. Admittedly she hadn’t spoken to Gail personally the last time, but, nevertheless, Gail’s message had been clear enough.

  She had only called in at the office herself on her way home to close up for the evening, this call coming through before she’d had chance to switch on the answer-machine.

  ‘Only just,’ she replied derisively, looking down ruefully at the key in her hand she had ready for her departure. ‘I got your message earlier, Gail.’ A little late, but she had got it! ‘Everything seems in order at the cottage.’ She crossed her fingers at this blatant mistruth; the last thing it had seemed at Rose Cottage today was ordered. ‘So—’

  ‘That’s just it,’ the other woman cut in agitatedly. ‘It isn’t in order at all. Fin, I’m worried about Jake,’ she added anxiously.

  Oh, dear, it was going to be another one of those calls, Fin realised with dismay, where she had to play a guessing game, trying to discover what was actually being said to her.

  She sat down wearily in her chair. It had been a long and trying day, and she was just too tired now to play any more games. And most of the reason it had been such a trying day had been because of Gail’s ‘uncle’!

  ‘In what way?’ she prompted evenly; from the little she had seen of Jake Danvers, he wouldn’t welcome anyone’s feeling ‘worried’ about him!

  ‘He—he’s being difficult!’ Gail seemed somewhat reluctant to put the actual problem into words now that it came down to it.

  Fin sighed. ‘He’s your friend, Gail; I’m sure you know better than most what he can be like.’

  And it really was none of her business if Gail was having problems with him. Sorting out personal relationships, family or otherwise, was not one of the services her agency offered; there were professional agencies for things like that. It wasn’t that she wasn’t sympathetic to Gail’s obvious concern, it was just—well, it was Jake Danvers!

  ‘So do you, by the sound of it,’ Gail realised with rueful humour. ‘A little of Jake goes a long way, hm?’ she acknowledged drily.

  ‘Yes,’ Fin agreed tersely, glancing impatiently at her wrist-watch; time was pressing on, and she had her tea to eat before getting ready to go out to the committee meeting. She also had something else to do before she did any of those things, and needed to get home.

  The other woman drew in a ragged breath. ‘Look, the thing is, Fin—I don’t know what Jake has told you about himself—’

  ‘Not much,’ she told her pointedly.

  ‘No. Well.’ Gail sighed. ‘He’s a pretty private sort of person. Is quite fanatical about it, actually, but … Look, I’ve tried several times to reach him by telephone this afternoon,’ this last bit came out in a rush, ‘just to make sure he’s settled in OK. But each time I called the line was dead. I contacted the operator after the last time, a few minutes ago actually, and she said the telephone has been unplugged from the connection!’ Gail revealed incredulously.

  It seemed a rather stupid thing to do when the cottage was as remote as it was. But, as Gail said, Jake Danvers was a very private person, and she was sure he had a very good reason for disconnecting the telephone … ‘Gail,’ she said slowly, ‘exactly what is it you’re worried about?’

  ‘Oh, God, I don’t know,’ the other woman said exasperatedly, and Fin had a brief image of the usually coolly capable blonde running agitated fingers through her long tresses. ‘He’s become so unpredictable. He had become almost a hermit, living out in the wilds of— Well, from living a very solitary sort of life
, he suddenly started flitting about all over the place; I don’t know what he’s doing half the time. And now he’s disconnected the damned phone!’ she concluded with a wail.

  Fin could hear the near-desperation in the other woman’s voice now. She felt sorry for her predicament, knew Gail had a performance this evening, that there was no way she could come down here herself to find out what Jake Danvers was up to. ‘Have you thought of contacting the police, if you’re that worried about him?’ she suggested gently.

  ‘He’d kill me!’ Gail groaned with feeling.

  She didn’t think now was the right moment to point out that he would hardly be able to do anything if, as Gail seemed to think—otherwise, why else was she so worried?—he might have done something desperate!

  ‘Gail, he didn’t appear the suicidal type to me, if that’s any help,’ she reasoned gently, vividly able to recall the hard mockery in those strange-coloured eyes, and the arrogant twist to those sculptured lips. No, he didn’t look the suicidal type at all to her! Besides, if he was who she thought he was then surely ten years ago would have been the time when he might just have felt desperate enough to have taken his own life. Although she obviously had no idea what might have happened in his life during the following ten years …

  ‘It isn’t,’ Gail snapped impatiently.

  ‘Do you want me to drive out to the cottage and check on things there for you?’ Fin heard herself offering without even being aware she was about to do such a thing. But what else could she do? Gail was obviously worried out of her mind about the damned man, and over the last year the other woman had become a friend as well as a client.

  But Fin already knew it was an offer she would regret, however it turned out. She already regretted it!

  ‘Oh, would you?’ Gail pounced gratefully—almost as if that weren’t what she had been angling for the whole time! ‘I really would be grateful.’

  ‘You don’t know how grateful,’ Fin muttered.