Anne Mather

by Sanja

  Now that she had met Adam Steinbeck she could understand Caroline's feelings for him. He was very attractive physically, of course, but more than that, he gave you a feeling of being protected and cared for in his presence. His very obvious personality was warm and friendly and he seemed to be interested in everything you said. You forgot he was the Chairman of the Steinbeck Corporation and acted quite naturally with him. To be loved by him must be a wonderful thing, thought Amanda, sighing, before she drew the covers up to her chin.

  As for John Steinbeck, Amanda was not sure. He was pleasant enough, she supposed, and certainly more her line of country. He didn't expect too intelligent a conversation and it had been obvious from his treatment of her that he liked an attractive woman, even if he was engaged.

  She could understand him. He was open and young and rather a devil. She was sure he had found her attractive and the thought worried her, on Caroline's behalf.

  Caroline heard the Rolls-Royce come up the drive, the swish of the wheels on the gravel. She had known he was taking Amanda home and couldn't prevent the feeling of envy she felt at the knowledge. What would they talk about? Did Adam find Amanda attractive? She was sure Amanda found him so. She lay awake until about four o'clock. She wished she could sleep. She had a big day ahead of her tomorrow. The trip to Paris looming on the horizon. When at last she did fall asleep it seemed no time before Mrs Jones was drawing back the curtains and saying 'Good morning' in her bright and breezy manner.

  She placed a tray across Caroline's knees as she struggled up into a sitting position and said:

  'John thought you might prefer this to rushing down to the dining-room.'

  'Thank you so much,' said Caroline, managing a smile. 'I do prefer it today. I still feel rather tired.' 'You look very peaky, I must say,' remarked Mrs

  Jones candidly. 'I hope you're not sickening for 'flu or something.'

  'So do I,' said Caroline, sighing. 'Anyway, I expect it was last night's party. Maybe I overdid it.'

  'No such thing at your age,' exclaimed Mrs Jones. 'No, I think you must be a little run down, miss. You take things easy on this holiday. Don't go rushing round that there French place and knocking yourself up.'

  Caroline chuckled. 'All right, Mrs Jones. It's nice of you to concern yourself with me.'

  'Not at all. You're almost one of the family now, although things haven't turned out as I expected.' There was an awkward pause and then she hurried on: 'But you enjoy your breakfast, love, and don't worry about a thing.'

  After she had gone, Caroline poured herself a cup of coffee. As she stirred it she thought again what a nice person Mrs Jones was. No wonder Adam and John thought a lot of her. She was more like a member of the family herself. Caroline wondered just what she did think about the situation here. After all, she had met Caroline originally through Adam and perhaps she had hoped the master was going to re-marry at last.

  Adam was not around when Caroline and John left in the chauffeur-driven Rolls. John had seen him earlier before he left to go riding, but Caroline had not spoken to him since the previous evening during that disastrous dance. This morning Caroline was wearing a slim-fitting suit of cherry-red wool and a loose cream mohair coat. John complimented her upon her appearance and she felt glad when they were settled in the back of the car and actually on their way.

  As the car passed the end of the Steinbeck estate, a horseman in a dark blue sweater and jodhpurs could be seen in the distance watching them and Caroline shivered as she recognised Adam's broad frame. Even at this distance he looked magnificent, a black stallion rearing beneath him.

  John looked reflectively at her as they took the main London road, and then, leaning forward, he kissed her cheek.

  'I love you,' he murmured softly.

  Caroline managed a small smile. 'Do you, John? Oh, I'm glad we're leaving England for a while. It will make all the difference!'

  'Of course it will,' said John confidently, and Caroline wondered whether he felt as assured as he tried to make out.

  The hotel in Paris lived up to all Caroline's expectations. John had booked a suite of rooms, but as there were two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, Caroline did not attach any significance to this. She was too bemused by the richness of her surroundings to ponder John's newly acquired posessiveness. She was eager to explore outside the hotel, too, the treasures of the city beckoning her insistently.

  But in this she found John less than co-operative. He had seen it all before, and it was not in his scheme of things that they should spend their time wandering round historical monuments. It soon became clear that his reason for bringing her to Paris were much more personal ones.

  At the beginning of the week, Caroline was prepared to humour him, allowing him to take the initiative, but quelling quite drastically any ideas he might have had to make their relationship a more intimate one. Whether John thought time would change her mind, she wasn't sure, but certainly it was not too difficult to keep their relationship on a friendly basis. It was only when some particular thing infuriated him that Caroline glimpsed a different side to her companion, one of sulky, bored petulance, that disturbed her quite a lot.

  As a car was at their disposal, they visited Fontainebleau, the Renaissance palace set in exquisitely designed gardens. Caroline was enchanted, but John spent the afternoon making sardonic comments, and thoroughly destroyed Caroline's interest.

  The following day they drove out of Paris again, this time on some expedition of John's. As Caroline had begged for their visit to Fontainebleau, John had insisted that he decide their plans for the following day.

  They parked the car in woodlands, beside a swiftly flowing stream, where beds of wild flowers provided carpets of yellow and blue and violet. They left the car, walking down to the water's edge, where Caroline dabbled her hands in the stream.

  'It's a beautiful spot,' she said, as John pulled a rug out of the car and threw it on the grass for them to sit on.

  'Yes, isn't it?' John sounded pleased with himself. He flung himself on the rug, stretching lazily. 'Come here, Caroline.'

  Caroline sighed. 'Why, John? I'm not tired. Couldn't we walk through the woods some way?'

  John rolled on to his side. 'Are you afraid of me, Caroline?'

  She stood up. 'Of course not.' This wasn't the first time John had attempted to interrogate her in this way. She imagined he was endeavouring to arouse either her indignation or her enthusiasm, but he was not succeeding.

  'Caroline,' he said again, 'this situation of ours has got to develop, you realise that, don't you?'

  'Develop, John?' Caroline was being deliberately obtuse.

  'Don't play with me, Caroline!' He sounded a little less amiable now.

  'Oh, John, I'm not playing!' Caroline lifted her shoulders. 'You're going too fast. This trip to France was supposed to be a holiday. As it is, it's turning into a contest and you think you're going to win!'

  John sprang up and came over to her. 'This is serious, Caroline. I'm only human, and you're a tease!' He pressed his lips to hers passionately.

  'I don't know what you mean,' she replied, trying to release herself.

  'Oh, yes, you do,' he muttered. 'Caroline, I've told you, I'm in love with you. What more can I say?'

  Caroline bit her lip. 'John. ..' she began, but he had released her and returned to his position on the rug.

  'Come and sit down,' he said pleadingly. 'Caroline, what are you afraid of? We're engaged. I'm not some stranger who's brought you out here to seduce you.'

  Caroline hesitated for a moment and then she went over and sat down beside him on the rug. She felt strangely upset. After all, they were engaged, and John had always been kind and thoughtful towards her.

  'That's better,' said John, smiling and drawing her back beside him. 'Now,' he said, his mouth inches above hers, 'kiss me, Caro.'

  Caroline was about to say something when his mouth descended on hers and pressed hard. She was too nervously disturbed to respond, but John didn't
seem to notice and she felt his hands caressing her urgently.

  'Don't,' she whispered, when he released her mouth, but John did not heed her. With a stifled moan she twisted away, so quickly that John released her at once and she jumped on to her feet and ran to the car. Breathing swiftly, she pulled open the door and got into her seat and sat there smoothing her hair, uncaring of what he was doing.

  It seemed like hours before he joined her, when actually it was only a few moments. He slung the rug into the back and slid behind the wheel. Caroline hardly dared to look at him. What now? He leant heavily on the steering wheel and then looked her way.

  'Well,' he said with a sigh, 'I guess I should apologise.'

  Caroline shrugged helplessly. 'What can I say?' she said, running a hand through her hair. 'I suppose I'm to blame really. But don't expect too much, too soon.'

  'All right.' He nodded. 'I realise I'm rushing you. I'm sorry. I suppose I never had much patience where girls were concerned.'

  'You mean you've never had to wait before, is that it?'

  Caroline's voice was light, but there was an undertone of seriousness.

  'I guess you might say that.' John started the car's engine, and there the conversation ended for the time being.

  For the remainder of their stay John was as circum- spect as she could have wished, but the relationship between them was most definitely strained. It was as though that incident in the middle of the week had altered everything between them. They no longer had ' anything to say to one another, and Caroline was sure John was beginning to see the futility of their engagement. It was all her fault really. She ought never to have allowed him to talk her into it. It had been a crazy idea right from the start, and because mentally, if not actually physically, she was older than he was, she ought to have had more sense. Her own selfishness at clinging to John because of his father was troubling her, particularly as it seemed John was no different from any other young man, and his protestations of love had been based on an egotistical belief that she would not be able to go on thinking of Adam while John was making love to her. But it wasn't true, and now he knew it, too.

  They returned to London and on their first evening they had a meal at the flat with Amanda. She was full of news of a new flat that the estate agent had found for them and was eager for Caroline to see it. It was situated in a new block not far from Gloucester Court, with two bedrooms, a lounge and kitchen, and its own bathroom. After the months of sharing that would be heaven, thought Caroline.

  Amanda had made a chicken curry for supper to celebrate and they ate companionably, talking about Paris and the places they had visited. Amanda was very interested, but she was well aware of the tension between them. Both addressed Amanda more than each other and she felt uncomfortably as though she was playing gooseberry. However, there was nothing she could do except go to bed when supper was over, pleading a headache.

  John helped Caroline with the dishes and then they went back into the lounge for a final cigarette.

  'Well,' he said, 'where shall we go tomorrow?'

  Caroline shrugged. 'Is your father staying away long?'

  'At least a fortnight, I imagine,' replied John, with a sigh. 'Why?'

  'No reason. I wondered whether you intended going to see your grandmother.'

  'Oh,' John shrugged. 'I don't suppose I'll go this vac. I only have another ten days before I go back to the pen.'

  Caroline smiled, 'I'm sure you enjoy it really.'

  'Are you? Oh, well, I suppose I do enjoy the laughs and the comradeship.'

  'There you are, then.' She drew on her cigarette. 'Where would you like to go tomorrow?'

  After John had gone, Amanda came out of the bedroom in her dressing gown.

  'Well,' she said forthrightly. 'What's wrong now?'

  Caroline shrugged. 'If I tell you you'll only say I told you so.'

  'I see.' Amanda frowned. 'What's happened to make you change your mind?'

  'Numerous things,' said Caroline vaguely, and then: 'Oh, Mandy, he tried to make love to me and I wouldn't let him.'

  Amanda sighed. 'It was only to be expected. He's that sort.'

  'Don't say that,' cried Caroline. 'He's supposed to be in love with me. As it is I feel as though that's all he's interested in.'

  'Now that is silly,' reproved Amanda. 'I wonder what you would have thought if you'd been in love with him.'

  'That's the awful part,' agreed Caroline, sighing. 'I think I would have been different. As it was I felt frigid and I know he thought I was an idiot.'

  'Well, that can't be helped. Honey, don't do anything which can't be remedied. When you give yourself to a man be sure it's because you want to and not because you only want to please him.'

  Caroline felt utterly dejected. The trip which had held such promise had turned out to be a flop and now she didn't even want to see John very much. In the days that followed, she gave her whole mind to the new flat. It was exactly as Amanda had described and Caroline spent hours designing the fittings. It gave her something to do and she had plenty of money to spend on it. She knew the nominal rent had been fixed by Adatmand the thought cheered her a little. At least he had been kind enough to see to that before he went away.

  She met John every day and spent many hours with him. He remained unusually reserved, but Caroline was too reserved herself to care very much. When Amanda was available she invited her to join them and Amanda found John turning more to her than Caroline for conversation. She didn't know what to do. She felt the usurper and yet they wanted it that way.

  When John returned to Radbury, Caroline felt unconscionably relieved. At least she could now have the opportunity to collect her thoughts without needing to interrupt them by meeting John. How could she look at things objectively with him by her side? It was better for both of them that a separation should take place.

  The two girls moved into the newly-furnished flat within two days of John's departure. Amanda was very impressed by the wall-to-wall carpeting and modern kitchen equipment. A huge television graced one alcove while a stereo-radiogram graced the other. Everything was there for luxuriously comfortable living and Amanda was thrilled. She had offered to share the expense, but Caroline wanted to do it all herself, and besides, as she said, she could well afford it. The house at Hampstead Heath had been sold for a terrific figure to a syndicate of companies interested in land development, and it wasn't until after the deal had gone through that Caroline found it had been bought by the Steinbeck Corporation.

  She wrote to John as usual, but his letters were fewer than in the early days of their relationship. She felt sure he was regretting the affair as much as she was and wished something had been said before he returned to college. However, something was to happen which was to make her glad she was still considered engaged to John.

  After spending a few days drifting round the flat feeling aimless, she suddenly decided to take a trip to Greece. She had long wanted to visit that country and now that she was fancy-free there was nothing to stop her.

  She made all the arrangements with Amanda's approval and booked her flight, in advance. The evening before she was due to leave she wrote to John explaining about the trip and also offering him his freedom if that was what he wanted. It was a difficult letter to write and each attempt looked worse than the last. She had just begun her fourth attempt when the telephone pealed beside her.

  She was still unused to this new innovation in her home and she jumped at the unaccustomed sound. Sliding off her chair, she crossed the room and picked up the receiver, giving the number automatically.

  'Is that you, Miss Sinclair?' For a moment she did not recognise the voice, then she said: 'Is that you, Mrs Jones?'

  'Yes, miss. Oh, I'm so glad you're in. I've been trying to contact John without any success and then I remembered that Mr Steinbeck had this number in his book. He arranged it all with Mr Mason, didn't he?'

  Mr Mason was the estate agent.

  'Yes, that's right, Mrs Jones. What is i
t? What's wrong?'

  'I've had a telephone call from Mrs Steinbeck, miss, from Boston. She too had tried to contact John, but without doing so, so she called me. Calls from America are so expensive and she couldn't keep on ringing from that distance.'

  'But what's it all about?' asked Caroline, a cold hand seeming to close round her heart.

  'It's Mr Steinbeck, miss. He's had a motor car accident and apparently he's in hospital, near his mother's home. They live just outside Boston, a place called Roseberry, and there's a big hospital there.'

  Caroline's legs gave way beneath her and she sank down on to a chair by the telephone.

  'Is.. .is he badly hurt, Mrs Jones?'

  'Mrs Steinbeck said he'd been cut about the face and he'd gashed his left arm pretty badly. They were still unsure about internal injuries.'

  'Oh, Mrs Jones!' Caroline felt violently sick. This, to happen to her beloved Adam. It was too much.

  'There, miss, don't you go upsetting yourself. These things always sound worse than they really are.'

  Caroline shivered. 'Mrs Jones, do you have any idea what a shock this has been?'

  'I think so,' replied the older woman. 'I always thought you were more fitting to Mr Adam than to young John. He's too flibberty-gibbety. I think the world of him, of course, but I'm not blind to his faults!'

  'Then will you give me Mrs Steinbeck's address?' asked Caroline, making a sudden decision.

  Mrs Jones did not hesitate. 'What do you intend to do?' she asked when Caroline had written the address down.