When he drew back with a trace of finality she did not
immediately disengage herself from his slackened embrace but looked at him intently. At last she said slowly : 'That's one thing about you that makes me love you more.'
`Oh.' His eyes were quizzical 'And what might that be?' `You've never expected to go all the way with me,' she said simply.
He started slightly, the suggestion of a frown narrowing his brows. Then it cleared. 'Would you object if I wanted to—to go all the way with you, as you term it, Shelley?'
`Well, yes—no. That is, I don't know. I—' A tinge of colour came into her cheeks. 'I—I half expected that you might, now that we're—' She bit her lip, wishing she hadn't started this, then went on uncertainly : 'It's just that boys seem to expect it. Sort of proving your love and trust in them—before you're married, I mean. That's why I haven't kept many boy-friends,' she admitted ruefully.
Quinn moved back and rested one arm on the mantelpiece, his stance quite relaxed. 'I've never been able to see the point of that argument, I'm afraid. To me it smacks of selfishness and immaturity, quite apart from the more subtle ethical aspects, which are a matter of individual viewpoint. Personally I don't think love and trust can be reduced to mere proof, a term I would define as being more pertinent to legal matters than the intangible quality of a human relationship, which is why I have endeavoured to restrain my lovemaking within the bounds of reasonable decorum—imposing the duress of a conflicting decision on one of the parties doesn't exactly add to the rapture. Or so I've come to believe.'
He groped for his cigarettes, then laughed softly and reached out to pinch her chin before he touched the flame of his lighter to his cigarette. 'Is this the beginning of the no-secrets campaign?'
`Sort of.' She looked down, thinking of his words. But I'm still glad.'
`So am I—now.'
Rather abruptly, he switched the subject, but there had been a strange little inflection in his tone that persisted in Shelley's memory. His perspicacity and cool detachment had a disconcerting effect on occasions, making her aware of her
youthful limitations and her inability to leave the purely emotional plane where he was concerned. Suddenly she wondered if the no-secrets campaign would prove as wise an idea as she had so confidently believed.
However, he had apparently forgotten all about the impulsive little confession by the following morning and in the excitement the day brought Shelley too had forgotten it long before the day was over. Today she was going to choose a ring and have a small celebration in the evening to mark the occasion.
Quinn met her in the lunch hour and after a great deal of consultation she emerged from the jewellers proudly wearing a delicate classic floret with a central sapphire that mirrored the tender blue of her eyes. She had first seen and gasped over the eternal solitaire showering rainbow fire from every facet. Quinn had said, 'Yes, if that is the one you like most,' but she had hesitated, aghast at what the price might be. But it had been just a shade loose, and when the jeweller murmured that of course the fitting could be adjusted she had smiled and put it gently back on the velvet tray. Then the floret ring was on her finger, snug as though it had been made specially to grace her small slender hand, and she knew it was the one. Naturally she wanted to wear it then and there, and under the jeweller's indulgent smile she had taken it off and handed it to Quinn, who smiled gravely and solemnly did what was expected.
`Isn't it fabulous?' she enthused to Bruno when she got back that evening, slightly breathless and loaded with shopping. 'Did you get the icecream gateau?'
`Yes, miss,' Bruno took his attention from the ring and nodded towards the fridge, 'it's in there.'
I brought some flowers for the table and hall, and some of those golden paper doyley things—watch that—it has the candles in,' she was hauling packages out of her carrier, 'and I brought some of that continental smoked cheese he likes—I think it's the right sort.'
Bruno nodded, forbearing to tell her that he also had got in a supply of his guy's favourite cheese. Eyeing the spill of goods, he exclaimed. `Cor strewth! Are we 'avin' the Mayor
or somethin'?'
`Just Julia and Derek—Ocky couldn't make it. But it's still a special occasion. Is he home yet?'
`No, miss, but he won't be long. Now who's going to set this table tonight? You havin' all these fancy ideas.'
`You do it, please, darling Bruno,' she blew a kiss at him with a flourish to show off her ring, 'I've got to bath and change into my new dress, then I'll come down and do the flowers. Okay?'
`Okay.' Bruno scratched his head and looked at the disorder wrought in his domain as she whirled away.
However, the intense beautifying needed to match the occasion took rather longer than she anticipated, and Quinn was opening the door to his sister and brother-in-law as Shelley hurried downstairs.
Julia kissed her warmly and passed on a somewhat cryptic message from-Pamela who had phoned the previous evening to report her successful exam result and heard the news. 'I'm not sure what she means about the total commitment bit, but anyway she sends her love,' Julia smiled.
There was more discussion, mostly of a purely feminine nature, on the subject of wedding gowns and whether they could really be utilised successfully for alternative wear afterwards to justify the expense of a really superb model. Inevitably there was a great deal of reminiscence about Julia's own wedding and a considerable amount of advice on dealing with snags that ranged from coping with recalcitrant child bridesmaids to separating the trendies from the trads among the guests. guests.
`And don't forget,' Julia whispered, when Bruno brought in the coffee, 'if you need any advice on managing the brute you know where to come. Remember, I've known him for twenty-eight years and I know all his devious little ways.'
`I'll remember.' Shelley's eyes sparkled as she caught Quinn's faintly enquiring gaze across the table, and she endeavoured not to giggle as Julia added in the same off-stage whisper: `He used to sub my pocket money every week and pay me two pence interest, and this went on for six weeks until I found that Grandfather had offered to double everything he banked for three months. Oh, there was a glorious explosion when the truth came out. That was you, you wretch!'
He inclined his head mockingly to his sister and murmured an aside to Derek which the girls couldn't quite catch but which evoked instant male mirth.
And so the evening passed, warm, friendly and intimate, and Shelley's happiness and confidence swelled and glowed. This was her life and love and future, and it was only the beginning of the promise. When Julia and her husband eventually departed after a shocked glance at the clock Shelley was too wound up with joyous vitality to stay still.
`Wasn't it super? Our first dinner party. I must go and tell Bruno how perfectly he fixed everything ...' She returned like a whirlwind, stopped-suddenly in the study doorway, and said inconsequently : `Do you know, I needn't have gone back to the office this afternoon. They let me off early when they found out it was a special day. So I went shopping, and then I saw this dress and I had to buy it ...' She paused, remembering that there had not been time to gauge his approval earlier in the evening and still desperately anxious that he should notice the misty blue floating nylon with the tiny fitting bodice of pearly lurex embroidery.
'I did notice it straight away.' Quinn put down his glass. `But there wasn't time to tell you that it is very beautiful.'
`It matches my ring,' she said happily. 'Oh, it's been a wonderful day!'
The words carried her to him, instinctively to give and seek the kiss that would be the seal on the day. But his kiss was perfunctory and the response of his arms so brief that she was standing alone almost before bewilderment overtook her. Unbelievingly she stared at the gesture that seemed almost to be warding her off.
`All right ...' he dropped into a chair and leaned back, regarding her with wry humour, 'I know I shouldn't dampen the transports, but I can't put this off any longer.'
Put what off
?' she gasped. 'What do you—?'
`Nothing, Shelley, except one of the practical matters you're blind and deaf to at the moment, but which someone
has to remember.'
She relaxed slightly. 'But I don't feel practical at the moment, and I don't want to—not today.'
'That's what I mean,' he said ironically, 'and this isn't going to go down very well. Listen, Shelley, and try to be sensible. I want you to go and stay with Julia until the wedding.'
There was the briefest of startled pauses, then she took an incredulous step forward. 'But why? Why should I go and stay with Julia now? Oh, I like her very much, but ... you mean shift all my stuff and—and—what on earth for?'
'Darling, isn't it obvious?' he said impatiently. 'Surely you realise ... it'll work out far better. You know the decorators are coming in next week, and there'll be a great deal of upheaval and—'
'But it won't make any difference! They won't be on the top floor, and it doesn't worry me if ... besides, I want to lx here to see to the—the curtains and the finishing touches, and everything.' She stared at him, still not sure that the outrageous suggestion was serious. 'I don't want to go away anywhere—now.'
'Exactly : now. That's why. You can't stay here now we've become engaged, Shelley. Can't you see it makes a difference?'
'No. It made a difference before because we weren't and now it still makes a difference because we are,' she stated firmly with a logic that seemed quite unshakable—to her. don't feel any different—at least I do, but not that way.' Perversely, she pretended not to understand, her expression pleading as he tried to reason.
'But I'll hardly see you at all if I go to Julia's,' she protested, 'and I don't see why we should start worrying about stuffy old conventions now !' she added with a blatant gesture of bravado.
'Anyway,' she went on, after the short, stubborn silence, I be going home for the last three weekends before the wedding to show my face because of the residence business for the licence and the banns and everything. Oh, Quinn,' her voice dropped as she resorted to feminine wheedling of the
eternal kind, 'you don't want me to go away, do you?'
'I'm not going to answer that one,' he said, poker-faced, `and you can get off the arm of my chair. Go on, that's just another little complication you seem oblivious about.'
He stood up and leaned negligently against the desk, folding his arms and eyeing her sardonically. 'I suspected from the start that there was a ruthless streak behind that naive innocence. Have you ever failed to get your own way?'
`Yes. And you're being ruthless now—wanting to throw me out,' she said provocatively. 'I believe you would too, after hearing about your larceny with your little sister's pocket money.'
He sighed and raised his shoulders with a gesture of unwilling defeat. 'Very well: you can stay. But—'
'I can! Oh! I knew you weren't ' She checked, seeing
the warning hand and the grim humour breaking round his mouth. 'But what?'
'I'll have to go instead.'
'Oh no!' she wailed, and buried her face against him while he abandoned any further effort to suppress his laughter any longer.
In the end, Mrs Quinn came to stay, and to help settle quite a few problems no less important than that of convention. The decorators arrived the following week, there were materials to be chosen and furnishings to be arranged. People called and telephoned, honeymoon holiday brochures scattered over table and book racks and desk and Shelley's bed, Aunt Lou came and Quinn had to go north. A plum commission suddenly landed in his lap—a new town hall in a smoky industrial area now banishing its smoke and seeking a clean new face—and preliminary consultations over this and the West Country University new library took him out of London several times during those six weeks before the wedding. She might as well have been with Julia, or anywhere else, she reflected ruefully, when the news of the town hall project broke. Meanwhile, she had plenty to occupy both her time and her thoughts with shopping for her wedding and going-away clothes and confirming endless details.
The days began to scurry past, and people she hadn't seen
for ages, people she knew—and people she didn't—wrote, called and telephoned ...
'—well, I mustn't keep you, my dear. Do tell Quinn we rang and we're so sorry to miss him, but we're both absolutely delighted to hear the news. Now you must come down for a weekend the moment you're free ... and in the meantime we look forward to meeting you at the wedding ...'
`—yes, we understand, and we're extremely sorry about the mistake, but the original pattern you chose is out of stock at the moment and we're afraid the new consignment won't be in till the eighteenth ... that's too late? ... Well, if you could call and perhaps ...'
`Now, Shelley, what is all this? Yes, I got the invitation, but I sold the little Madonna and Child carving I was working on the last time you were round at the studio and I've been living it up on the proceeds ... now don't "Ocky" me in that shocked voice. You're far too young to go in at the deep end ... That's just what I'm afraid of—you will drown in love! Listen, infant, it's infatuation. Young girls often start out by falling for an older man Yes, I know, maybe he is only thirty-four and intelligent and adult and fun and wise—that's where the danger lies. By all means get it out of your system if you must, but don't commit yourself to this ... You're what? ... Of course you feel as though you'd just started to live, it's one of the most potent symptoms.... All right, I'll shut up. He certainly seems to have forged an impenetrable shield round you—I hope it always keeps all hurt away from you ... Yes, little one, I'll be at the wedding to bless you ... yes! I'll bless the beloved as well, you little idiot..:
`—is that brother of mine not back yet? Blast! Listen, dear, I've only got a minute because Derek's bringing some people home, but it's this business of Myra—it's rather awkward; we've been friends for years—you knew about her, didn't you? ... Thank goodness, I was afraid you ... well, you see, she wants to give you a wedding present ... No, of course you don't have to invite her ... in any case, she'll be away again by then. She's spending the rest of her holiday
with the film crowd, somewhere in the Med. I'm sure she said Capri ... no, you silly girl, it's miles from Rhodes, you won't bump into her on your honeymoon ... what if you did, anyway? He's marrying you, isn't he, and that was all over ages—oh, bother, here's Derek. Listen, she thought of a bit of Murano 'crystal ... this duplication of wedding presents is always a headache ...'
'—Guess who? Surprise, surprise ! Yes, it's Samma. Have you forgiven us yet? ... Good! We'll sleep tonight! Now listen, we're having a few folks in tomorrow, how about bringing him along and ... away? ... too bad. I hope you realise it's us you have to thank for him ! My, you've come out of your shell, darling. You move in with one of the few bachelors who hasn't a bird in the cage already and then you marry him! Real cool—what are you wearing, by the way? ... Well, well, white tulle and orange blossom; how original! Which reminds me, we've something for you. Wait till you see it—or rather, wait till he sees it! You know that lingerie buyer pal of Coralie's? It's a dream—I'll post it off tomorrow to you—and mind you make a bonfire of those ghastly Victorian nighties you bought in the market ... yes, I know they're broderie anglaise, but they're still like shrouds—and those wincey pyjamas with pink roses on ... all right, they're warm, but wait till you see this—it's black lace and there's a matching negligee with pink ribbons and tiny ...'
Shelley sank back exhausted. Black lace! She still preferred her Victorian shrouds—and wincey with pink rosebuds!
`Now is there anything else I can help you to pack?' Eleanor Quinn's glance moved over the welter of garments and tissue paper and fell on a large silver and pink dress carrier propped against the side of Shelley's wardrobe. 'Is this to go in the other case?'
`No! I'm not packing that.' Hastily Shelley took the bag from Mrs Quinn's hands and thrust the folds of black and pink lace back inside. 'I'll put it away later when I—'
`Shelley darling, f
or goodness' sake get out of that dress.' Mrs Quinn's gentle face was indulgent. 'I know you can't
bear to take it off, but you don't want him to see it before the day and he'll be home any moment now.'
For a moment she looked at the radiant figure reflected in the long mirror, then firmly began to remove the filmy tulle veil. It was a dream of a dress, long and slim and fitting in pure white nylon brocade with a square neckline and tiny silver buttons down the back and a bouffant fullness cunningly flowing out from where the buttons ended to give a formal line. Reluctantly Shelley allowed herself to be parted from it and smoothed out the folds lovingly as Mrs Quinn laid it on the bed and began to lay masses of tissue paper in the big white dress case before she skilfully packed the dress in readiness for the journey to Shelley's home the next morning.
`Now let's check these lists and make sure we haven't forgotten anything.' Eleanor Quinn looked at the day-dreaming Shelley and shook her head smilingly, then picked up the list and began to tick off the items.
'I think that's everything,' she murmured, tapping the pencil against her chin. 'I think we can close that one.'
`Wait a moment!' Shelley came back to reality. 'My beach things and sun-goggles. I want to get a really super tan.' She hauled open a drawer and rummaged in the chaos within. 'Here they are.'
'These won't take much room!' Eleanor Quinn smiled at the gaily patterned wisps of bikini as she tucked them into a corner and laid the beach jacket flat to fold it. 'Anything else?'
'I don't know.' Shelley sighed dramatically. 'I can't think straight any more. I— Oh, that's the car! He's back!' Hair flying, she whirled to the door.
'Shelley, not in your bare feet!'
Exclaiming, she checked her rush and thrust her toes into the blue fluffy mules which were nearest in sight and rushed again, deaf to Mrs Quinn's despairing, 'Put something on, Shelley!'
Flushed with excitement and heedless that she was still clad in the filmy white slip she had donned when she tried on her wedding gown, she tore downstairs, tried to look over
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