by Sanja
In mid-December his yacht Circe had sailed for the West Indies and she had felt his departure as painfully as though part of herself was being taken away from her. While he had been in London there had always been that chance that he might be in the lift in the mornings or alternatively she might meet him in the street. With his going there was no interest in anything any more.
And so by Christmas she felt completely drained of all emotion. She was able to laugh and joke with the two old ladies as though everything was fine, while her inner self seemed to sit apart and watch the proceedings with a cynical eye.
When she returned to the flat afterwards she tried to put all thoughts of Adam out of her mind. She became madly gay, going out with Amanda and her friends at every opportunity until Amanda got really worried about her. She realised Caroline was not giving herself time to think about her worries and so she refrained from saying anything.
The winter set in in earnest with heavy falls of snow, and the girls often had to walk to work because the buses were so late and so overcrowded. Caroline usually walked home too and found she enjoyed the unaccustomed exercise.
One evening when she left the Steinbeck Building it was very slippery underfoot and without warning she suddenly found herself on her back. She sat up, dusting the snow from her elbows, feeling quite ridiculous. A young man who was on his way to the Steinbeck Building grinned cheerfully and bending down helped her to her feet. She looked very lovely that evening, wrapped in her dark duffel coat, a scarlet hood almost hiding her silvery hair. With smiling eyes she turned to thank her helper and as she looked at I he young man she started in amazement. 'John!' she exclaimed. 'I'm sorry I didn't recognise you.'
John Steinbeck thrust his hands into the pockets of his coat. 'Nor I you,' he answered,- a smile playing round his mouth. Then with sudden concern, 'Are you all right? No bones broken?'
'I'm afraid not,' she replied provocatively.
John smiled. 'I guess I deserved that from the affair at Slayford,' he said easily. 'Gosh, that sounds like the title of some thriller!'
They both laughed and Caroline relaxed. John was very like Adam, and just being near him brought Adam nearer somehow. They were silent for a moment, looking at each other, and Caroline guessed John was wondering just what had been between herself and his father.
'Have you far to go?' he said at length, without any of the sarcasm he had displayed at their earlier meeting.
'To Gloucester Court, in Chelsea,' replied Caroline, brushing the last particles of snow from her coat.
'Would you care for a coffee?' he asked smilingly, looking down at her.
Caroline gasped. 'I'm sorry,' she said at last, 'but that was so unexpected. I thought I was the villain of the piece.'
John grinned. 'Well, will you come?'
'Yes. . .yes, please,' she agreed, and they began to walk along towards the coffee bar.
They turned into the newly-opened Pandora's Box and Caroline seated herself at one of the gaily coloured tables while John pushed his way to the counter. He came back with two steaming cups of coffee, plus a plate on which were two hamburgers and two Devonshire cream buns.
'I thought you might like a snack,' he said, as he seated himself opposite her. He was dressed in a light grey suit and a charcoal grey overcoat, his dark hair cut longer than his father's. Although it was the middle of January he looked brown and fit.
'Lovely,' said Caroline, smiling and accepting a hamburger. 'Are you on holiday?'
'Yes, until the beginning of February,' he nodded. 'Thank goodness! I've been studying for my exams and I'm enjoying the break.'
'Hm.' Caroline munched thoughtfully. 'Didn't.. .didn't you want to go with your father?' she asked, forcing her voice to sound coolly interested.
John nodded. 'I've just got back,' he replied, looking across at her with his clear blue eyes. 'I was on the yacht for a month. But I came back earlier than necessary to acclimatise myself before returning to college.'
'Oh, I see.' Caroline suddenly lost her appetite. The casual way he mentioned his sojourn on the Circe was bringing back memories vividly to her mind.
'Yes, it was great getting away from all this and spending a few weeks in the sun.'
'Did you go alone?' she asked suddenly, remembering Toni Landon and the way she had looked at Adam.
'Yes, just me,' he nodded lazily. 'I only wish it was still ahead of me.'
Caroline sighed. 'You're very lucky,' she commented, not thinking of the yacht or the sun, only of Adam.
John looked down at his coffee. 'Is everything over between you and Dad?'
'As far as he's concerned,' she replied huskily.
'And you?'
'I'd rather not talk about it.'
'Okay. Say, how would you like to take in a movie before I buy you some supper?'
Caroline stared at him. 'Are you serious?' she exclaimed.
'Never more serious in my life,' he replied, smiling. 'I was interested in you from the moment I first saw you. And you knew it, didn't you?'
'But what about Toni?' she asked, frowning.
'Hell, that was over ages ago. You don't know me very well or you wouldn't ask questions like that.'
'All right, thank you.'
They discussed the merits of different films and finally decided on a French film with English subtitles. They came out roaring with laughter at the inadequacy of the subtitles and Caroline found she was enjoying herself much more than she had done for ages.
They had supper at a French restaurant just to round the evening off and ate frogs' legs to be completely cosmopolitan. They drank real continental-flavoured coffee and Caroline heaved a sigh of contentment when it was over.
'That was fabulous,' she breathed, drawing on her cigarette. 'I have enjoyed myself, John. Thank you.'
'It's been my pleasure,' he replied easily. 'When do I see you again?'
Caroline studied the glowing tip of the cigarette. 'Are you sure you want to?' she asked quietly.
'Sure I'm sure,' he answered, leaning towards her across the table. 'I always knew my father had good taste.'
Caroline flushed scarlet and drew back. John inwardly cursed himself for his stupidity and apologised. 'I'm awfully sorry,' he said. 'I didn't mean to sound patronising.'
Caroline shrugged. 'It's all right,' she said quietly. 'Shall we go?'
They took a taxi to Gloucester Court and in the taxi John was still apologetic.
'Look,' he said eagerly, 'my car is at Slayford, how about letting me pick you up tomorrow evening and we'll have dinner? Not at Slayford,' he continued hastily when she stared at him. 'At some restaurant, hm?'
Sure she was being all kinds of a fool, Caroline reluctantly agreed, and John was thankful. She was a charming girl and he urgently wanted to see her again.
The following evening John called for Caroline in his low red sports car at seven o'clock. Amanda, who saw the sports car arrive and only knew of John as a boy whom Caroline had accidentally met the previous day, whistled appreciatively as she turned away from the window.
'How do you do it, Caroline?' she exclaimed with a wry grin. 'You seem to attract the most attractive men, and all with big bank balances. Can't you introduce me to some of them?'
'Lots of boys drive sports cars,' Caroline exclaimed easily. She had no wish to make Amanda suspicious.
'But none of the same calibre as the one that has just arrived,' remarked Amanda, flinging herself into a chair. 'I expect Daddy bought it for him for his birthday or something.'
Caroline's face whitened suddenly and Amanda frowned. 'Are you all right, honey?' she asked quickly. 'Because if you're not I'm quite willing to go down there and offer to take your place.'
Caroline had to smile. 'Yes, I'm all right,' she exclaimed, a shade too brightly. The nausea she felt at the mention of John's father would not be denied. Would she ever be able to hear his name without feeling in a state of collapse?
She was wearing a green trouser suit, and John was wholly a
ppreciative, and his eyes were openly admiring when she removed her coat in the foyer of the restaurant he had taken her to.
The waiter apparently knew John, for he showed them to a secluded alcove where a table for two was set between low velvet couches.
John ordered the meal, and then offered Caroline a cigarette while they waited for it to be served.
'Tell me,' he said, 'how did you come to meet my father?'
Caroline ran a tongue over her suddenly dry lips. She had expected this question and so she ought to be prepared for it. 'I work in the Steinbeck Building,' she replied quietly. 'I'm a shorthand-typist in the typing pool.'
'I see,' John nodded, apparently satisfied with this explanation. She did not have the ignominy of explaining about the lift. 'I'm sorry if I seem to harp on the subject, but having no mother, and being an only child, I tend to be rather possessive about my father.'
Caroline nodded, looking sympathetically at him. She could understand this. He seemed so much younger than herself, if not in age then in manner. She could even understand his resentment displayed at Slayford as it must have been a great shock, sprung upon him suddenly like that, without warning. She wondered now, as he spoke, whether he was really aware of what the situation had been between herself and Adam. Perhaps if he only thought of them as friends it was all to the good. He obviously had changed his early low opinion of her.
Changing the subject, she said: 'Tell me about the West Indies. Did you have an exciting time?'
John sighed, relaxed again. 'Yes, marvellous,' he replied, nodding. 'My father owns a house in Jamaica that stands almost on the beach. It's a private strip of beach, of course, and the sand is really quite white. The sea is very warm and very blue.'
'It sounds wonderful,' commented Caroline, smiling. 'And you're very tanned. Did you bathe a lot?'
'At least once every day,' said John, smiling remi- niscently. 'We spent most of our time in swimming trunks and sweaters.'
Caroline could imagine this. How wonderful it would have been to spend a holiday with Adam! To see him all day and every day. It was a dream, which had little hope of becoming a fact.
The meal John had ordered was delicious and afterwards they went on to a club in Chelsea where most of the members were teenagers and nothing more intoxicating than Coca-Cola was sold.
He drove her home at eleven-thirty and stopped outside the flats, turning towards her with a smile.
'Well,' he said, 'did you enjoy youself, and if so, will you repeat the experience?'
Caroline's eyes twinkled. 'Of course I enjoyed myself,' she replied, 'and I would like to see you again.'
'Good.' John leant on the steering wheel. 'How about going to a show tomorrow, if I can get tickets?'
Caroline bent her head. 'What sort of show?' she asked, remembering the last show she had seen and who she had been with.
'Anything you like. By the way, what do you like? Lowbrow or highbrow stuff? I know very little about you.'
'Well, I like concerts,' confessed Caroline candidly, 'but I like some pop music. It depends how I feel.'
'Right. That's okay by me. Do you want to go somewhere like the Festival Hall tomorrow night?'
Caroline's eyes lit up. 'Oh, yes, please. They're doing Grieg's Piano Concerto, and I adore that.'
'Good. We'll do that, then.'
In the days that followed John took Caroline out almost every night, giving her no time to think at all. They attended concerts and went to a new musical extravaganza, usually following them by supper at a restaurant. They even went to a party given by some fellow students from the university and Caroline thoroughly enjoyed herself. John never tried to be more than friendly with her and she was glad. There were no complications to concern herself with.
John rarely discussed his father, although when he did talk about Adam, Caroline found she was unconscionably interested. John was clearly proud of his father and told Caroline more about the woman who had been his mother.
'She wasn't at all like Dad,' he said, sighing as he remembered those times. They were sitting in a coffee bar after spending the evening at Covent Garden. 'She was really quite contented to stay in the same old rut year after year. I don't think she cared whether Dad was successful or not and she certainly gave him no encouragement. They were so different, you see. I can't
imagine what attracted them to one another.'
Caroline shrugged. She was remembering what Adam had told her.
'In a way, I think it was as well that she died when she did,' continued John slowly. 'Oh, I know that sounds a horrible thing to say, but she would never have been happy the way things turned out.'
Caroline nodded. 'There are women like that, I suppose,' she said quietly. 'Have there been many women in your father's life since then?'
She was dreading his answer, but when it came she was glad.
'Caroline, my father is a millionaire. Even if he looked like Frankenstein's monster there would always be women, of some sort. To some women, money paints masks over the ugliest faces. And of course, as Dad is very attractive, for his age, there have been plenty.'
'Oh!' Turning the knife in the wound, she said: 'I suppose it's understandable. Money means everything to many people.'
'Yes.' John looked reflective. 'However, if on the other hand, you were to ask whether he had had any serious affairs, I could honestly say "No." I really don't believe that there's a woman alive today for whom he would give up his freedom.'
Perhaps he was right, she thought, sighing. Maybe he had seized on the excuse of her youth to let himself out of an awkward situation. After all, she had behaved with abandon that day at Slayford. Perhaps he thought she was cheap. With these torturing thoughts drifting round in her head, Caroline was sure she would have no sleep that night.
John returned to the university during the first week in February and began writing to her almost at once. He wrote regularly, every couple of days, although Caroline only replied weekly. He had not contacted his father to tell him he was meeting Caroline at her request, but soon after he left London, Adam returned.
He flew into London Airport and there was a picture of him in the Morning Gazette. Caroline read the caption on her way to work and wondered idly whether she would see him about the office building. She doubted it as she was usually early for work now, and besides, she would hate to have him think she was being deliberately late simply to see him.
Things had settled down in the typing pool now. Ruth had naturally assumed that nothing had come of her meeting with Adam Steinbeck and Caroline did not disillusion her. The fewer people who knew of that disastrous affair the better. No one, not even Amanda, knew she was going out with Adam Steinbeck's son, and she supposed that she was courting notoriety in that direction also if anyone was to find out.
At the beginning of March, John came home to Slayford for a long weekend and met Caroline for a meal on his first night. His earlier suntan had died away and he looked tired, as though he had been studying half the night.
'Won't your father wonder where you are?' asked Caroline as they sat trying to eat rice with chopsticks in a Chinese restaurant.
'Not tonight,' replied John, smiling. 'He's giving a dinner party at Slayford for the directors of the Corporation and their wives. They always have a get-together once a year when the yearly statements are published.
It's a sort of celebration of the profits they've made.' He sounded disparaging. 'I wouldn't want to be there, and of course, he knows it. He usually lets me off.'
'But aren't you interested?' exclaimed Caroline. 'After all, you'll inherit the whole affair some day.'
'Me?' John looked astounded. 'Can you see me in big business? Oh, no. That's not my line. I intend to have a career quite apart from the Steinbeck Corporation. I don't want to spend my days locked up in a stuffy office. Life's got more to it than that.'
Caroline sighed. 'Well, what will happen then?' she asked, interested in spite of herself.
'Well, unless the ol
d man marries again, and produces another son, I guess one of my cousins in Boston, Massachusetts, USA will find themselves pretty rich one of these fine days. This last he spoke with a pronounced American accent and Caroline laughed helplessly.
'All right,' she said at last, 'so how is Ad. . .your father?'
'Okay, I guess. He's looking a bit tired but otherwise he's fit.' He grimaced down at his plate. 'I'll never get this stuff in my mouth. I give in, let's have some spoons.'
John was home from Thursday until the following Tuesday morning and Caroline saw him for some time each day. On Saturday it was her birthday and they went to Brighton and spent the whole day there. John had found out the date of her birthday earlier in their acquaintanceship and when he called for her on Saturday morning he indicated a small package on the parcel shelf of the car.
Eagerly, before starting the car, he urged her to open it and laughing, she complied. Then the laughter died in her throat when she opened the jeweller's box that had emerged from the wrapping paper and found herself looking at the platinum bracelet whose emeralds, rubies and diamonds winked mockingly at her.
Her first impulse was to thrust it back at him in horror, but as she lifted it with trembling fingers she realised what a ridiculous gesture that would be. He would not understand the significance of it. She would only hurt his feelings, and she did not want to do that. It was ironic, she thought achingly, that Adam should have given the bracelet to his son to give to one of his girl-friends and that particular girl-friend should happen to be herself.
She suddenly became aware that John was looking at her face in consternation. 'What's wrong?' he asked, puzzled. 'Don't you like it? I was sure you would.'