Love in Spring BoxSet

by Jenny Lane

  Tamara was secretly appalled at the tragedy and the way she had reacted was exactly as she felt her sister would have done. She knew she was acting the part of Cassie to perfection just now. Cassie would have shrugged her shoulders and taken the attitude that what had happened in the past could not possibly concern her now. She would simply close her mind to it and let it all wash over her. Cassie never took any notice of what she did not want to. Tamara did not wish to spoil the relationship between herself and Richard and so she turned to him now.

  ‘Richard, I value our friendship too, you know, and I appreciate that your advice is well meant.’ She raced on impulsively, treading where only angels dared to tread. ‘I’d like to heal the breach between you and Oliver so that I could go away from here feeling that everything was all right where the two of you were concerned.’

  There was silence for a moment and then he said, ‘Cassie, when you leave here and return to America, you’ll forget that Tom and Anne and myself – and the whole lot of us, for that matter – exist for another year or two.’ And then he revved up suddenly, and didn’t speak again until after he had garaged the car, when, turning to her, he said abruptly, ‘You’ll excuse me if I go on ahead, but I don’t want to be late for Melissa. If

  you still want to come over to the flat tomorrow I’ll be ready to leave at 8.30,’ and he strode off into the house.

  It was with a heavy heart that Tamara followed him. She desperately wanted to contact Cassie, but knew that she would be at the theatre right now. How like her sister to land her in such a difficult situation!

  *

  It was still raining the following morning. The weather had certainly broken and, according to the forecast, it was likely to remain wet, at least over the weekend. Tamara had tried putting through an early morning call to Cassie, but there had been no reply at the flat. Knowing her sister, she knew she had probably slept through the phone’s ringing.

  Tamara restlessly flicked through some magazines. while she waited for Richard. She had been looking forward to helping him at the flat, but after the previous evening was feeling a bit apprehensive, for he could be so forbidding. Sometimes he didn’t seem to like her at all... and then there was always Melissa in the background. She started as he came into the room.

  ‘Well, it’s a lousy day... Are you fit?’ She smiled and got to her feet.

  ‘Perhaps it’s just as well it’s this sort of weather, we’d surely regret being stuck indoors on a fine day.’

  ‘There’s nothing like being optimistic,’ he commented drily.

  It was one of those grey, misty days. The windscreen wipers made a monotonous whirr, and Tamara suddenly found herself thinking of London and her own flat. There were a hundred and one things she could have been doing that summer instead of coming on this mad, fool escapade. It was obvious that she was proving an embarrassment to Richard, who probably wished her further when he wanted to spend all his free time with Melissa. She wondered if she could invent some excuse and return to London after another week or so. Surely she would have done her duty for Cassie by then?

  She stole a glance at Richard. He was concentrating on the road, which was narrow and slippery. The hands on the wheel were large and strong; his face was set in a stern expression that morning. Sensing her looking at him he turned his head slightly and smiled, and suddenly his whole countenance changed. The dimple appeared in his chin and his blue-grey eyes became alive. ‘Okay?’

  She nodded. ‘Is it often like this?’

  ‘Now and then... It’ll brighten up next week, I dare say. Does it depress you?’

  ‘Yes, it does rather – everything looks so grey and miserable.’

  ‘You’ve obviously got an artistic temperament if you are affected by the moods of the weather... Never mind, you won’t have time to think about it once you get to the flat, I promise you ... You’ll find some mints in the glove compartment together with a road-map. You might like to follow our route.’ He was treating her like a child again, she realised sadly.

  Falmouth was teeming with tourists when they arrived. Richard’s flat was in the old part of the town above an office. It was roomy but dingy and certainly in need of a coat of paint.

  ‘It was used for storing filing cabinets and any equipment that wasn’t needed,’ he explained as he showed her round. ‘There is a lot of potential, wouldn’t you say? Melissa helped me select the colour scheme for this room... apricot on that wall and magnolia for the rest. What d’you think? I’m planning to get a plain cord carpet and bright curtains and cushions... Mel will give me a hand to choose the material, but I’ll have to try to get them made up in the shop. By the time Mel has made me a couple of her vases and I’ve got one or two of Tom’s paintings hanging up there you won’t recognise the place.’

  Tamara suddenly felt annoyed. She was obviously good for the menial tasks but then Melissa would come along and add all her delicate artistic touches and get all the accolades.

  ‘I could make the curtains and cushion covers,’ she said impulsively, and immediately realised that she had said the wrong thing, for Cassie was hopeless with a needle. He gave her a strange look.

  ‘You never cease to amaze me, Cassie! It’s evident you have hidden depths, for Oliver told Mother in one of his letters that you didn’t know one end of a broom from another, and couldn’t even sew his buttons on.’

  Tamara laughed shakily. ‘Well, I have been married for eighteen months and when the needs must it’s surprising what one can force oneself to do. Anyway, you know how Oliver loves to exaggerate.’

  Richard smiled. ‘Oh, well, just so long as you know what you’re letting yourself in for!’

  They worked hard and by late morning had finished applying one coat of emulsion to the lounge walls. They had just decided to stop for lunch when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘That’ll be John Penfold, most likely. He said he might drop in,’ said Richard, making for the stairs. ‘Put the kettle on, will you, Cassie?’

  Tamara was disappointed, for she had thought there would be just the two of them. A few minutes later John appeared in the kitchen doorway, brandishing some steaming Cornish pasties.

  ‘Luncheon is served, milady – I must say you look very fetching in that gear! Is it the latest fashion?’

  Tamara laughed. for she was encased in a voluminous overall belonging to Rose. She had pulled her hair into bunches and covered her head with an old scarf of Miriam’s.

  ‘Nice flat, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes – lucky you managed to find it for Richard.’

  ‘Pulled a few strings, didn’t I?... I half expected to find Mel here.’ Tamara rummaged in the drawer for some cutlery.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you. She’s at the shop, I expect.’

  He found a tray. ‘I suppose Richard will be taking her to the tennis club dinner and dance tonight... Pity it’s a closed affair or I could have taken you.’

  It was the first Tamara had heard of it and she felt unaccountably envious. How she would have loved to have worn one of Cassie’s beautiful evening gowns and accompanied Richard, she thought wistfully.

  John didn’t stay long, as he had to get back to the estate agents. When he had gone they worked flat out for another couple of hours. At last Richard put down his brush. ‘There, I’m not doing another stroke! Looks considerably better, doesn’t it? Shall we call it a day?’ He crossed to the window. ‘Pity about the weather. We could have gone for a trip on the river. I noticed you were reading Daphne du Maurier and this, of course, is her country. I could have pointed out the setting for Frenchman’s Creek. Anyway, if you’re interested, there’s always another time.’

  ‘What a lovely idea,’ Tamara said, but she wondered if he were just being kind again. They were in the middle of tidying up when there was another knock on the door.

  ‘Perhaps it’s John again with our tea,’ joked Richard. But this time it was Melissa looking chic and cool in a dress of pale chartreuse, her blonde hair falling i
n shining waves over her shoulders. She surveyed them with amusement.

  ‘Well, you two do look a couple of sorry specimens, I must say. I hope you’re going to rally round for the dance tonight, Dick, otherwise I shall have to find myself a more lively partner.’

  Richard yawned. ‘Please yourself. I dare say I’ll come to after a bath – what brings you to Falmouth this afternoon, then?’

  ‘Oh, I had some pottery to deliver so I thought I’d call in. I’ve seen some fabulous curtaining in that new shop in the High Street.’

  ‘Good. Cassie’s offered to make the curtains for me... Could you be an angel and get us some tea? We’re absolutely jiggered.’ To Tamara’s surprise he seemed a bit offhanded towards Melissa. Was it because he was not looking his usual immaculate self for once and this made him feel at a disadvantage? she wondered.

  Tamara went into the bathroom and tried to tidy herself, but there was no mirror and in the end she gave up. She knew she must look a sight in her paint-bespeckled overall and old jeans, with her hair clinging damply to her forehead.

  Melissa managed to look elegant even when she was sitting on an old packing-case. She suddenly burst out laughing now as she looked at Tamara. ‘Oh, Cassie, you should see yourself in that overall! Wherever did you get it from? It’s big enough for you, me and Richard together, I should think!’ Richard laughed too.

  ‘It’s one of Rose’s throw-outs, I imagine... Never mind, Cassie, you’ve done an excellent job. A pity you can’t come to the tennis club dinner tonight, but I’m afraid it’s members only.’

  ‘I know, John told me this morning,’ Tamara said dully. ‘Never mind, I can always play chess with your father instead.’ Richard caught the tone of bitterness in her voice and looked at her in some surprise. She felt herself colouring and hastily got up to pour more tea. Melissa began talking about a mutual acquaintance of hers and Richard’s. Tamara felt absurdly out of it. She was tired and irritable and knew that she looked a mess. Cassie would no doubt be shocked if she could see her now. Tamara sighed and scratched a fleck of paint from her jeans.

  At last Melissa said she must leave and Richard went to see her out. He spent some time talking with her in the hall. Tamara could hear Melissa’s tinkling laughter, and the sound of Richard’s deep resonant voice. They obviously had so much in common and seemed so well suited. She suddenly felt depressed. There was an inexplicable lump in her throat. She realised that she hadn’t experienced such utter desolation since Ian had walked out on her. She was tidying the lounge when Richard returned.

  ‘Well, I suppose we ought to be making tracks ourselves shortly. You’ve been a tremendous help, Cassie, and I really do appreciate it.’

  Tamara did not reply; instead she gathered up the dirty mugs and stacked them on a tray.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked in sudden concern.

  ‘I’m just a bit tired, that’s all, I guess. I’m glad I was able to help, Richard.’

  ‘So am I... There’s a little speck of paint right on the end of your nose.’ He wiped it off with his handkerchief. ‘There – I bet Oliver wouldn’t recognise you if he saw you now.’

  ‘Probably not,’ she said wryly, wishing that he would keep Oliver’s name out of the conversation for a few moments.

  ‘So in that case he wouldn’t mind if I said thank you for all your help, my dear,’ and he bent and brushed her lips lightly with his, like a moth’s wings, so that she wondered if she had imagined it but knew from the emotions that stirred within her that she had not. It was as if she had awakened at last from a long, deep sleep. It had been a kiss such as the Sleeping Beauty had been given by the prince.

  Richard went to wash the mugs and Tamara put her hand to her lips wonderingly. What was it about him? She scarcely knew him and yet he had the power to disturb her irrationally. Could it be that she was falling for him?

  She was still standing there when Richard came into the room with her anorak. ‘Come, on, sleepy head. We’d better be making a move or I’ll be late for my date, and Mel can’t stand unpunctuality.’

  Tamara realised just how hopeless the situation was. What on earth had possessed her to come to this place? She must have been out of her mind to have agreed to such a senseless plot. She would make a determined effort to contact Cassie and arrange to return to London. After all, there was absolutely nothing to be gained by staying here, for she would only end up getting hurt again.

  Richard grinned at her and the dimple appeared in his chin.

  ‘I don’t care what Melissa says – I like you in that overall. It’s very fetching, but then you’d look good in anything, Cassie... Oliver’s a very lucky fellow.’

  *

  Tamara had arranged to sit for her portrait on Monday morning. She just hoped no one would question where she was going. After two more unsuccessful attempts to contact Cassie, she had phoned a neighbour, who had informed her that her sister had gone to stay for a few days with a friend who lived nearer the theatre.

  Tom was delighted to see her. ‘I thought you mightn’t come... Everything’s ready. Mother’s gone shopping with Anne so we’re quite alone.’

  ‘I don’t know whether I like the sound of that,’ she said in mock alarm.

  He laughed. ‘I can assure you that I don’t mix business with pleasure so you’re quite safe – but before we begin.’ He took her in his arms.

  ‘Tom I don’t remember this being part of the bargain!’

  He pretended to look hurt. ‘Then you’ve been leading me on, you hussy... Okay, sit down there and I promise to behave.’ And so he did for the next hour and a half. They chatted as he worked, about themselves and Cassie, but he steered clear of the subject of his wife and young son. He was not a handsome man, but he had a certain charm that made him attractive to women, although he evoked no response in her. She didn’t want to lead him on, and so she found herself telling him about Ian.

  ‘Rotten devil – do you ever see him?’

  ‘No, he went up north – met some other girl, I believe. I had the flat and a new job. It’s been okay.’

  ‘That’s why you really came here, wasn’t it – to find your identity again?’ She considered this for a moment.

  ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. You see with everyone believing I’m Cassie, the focus has gone from Tamara Simpson – and it’s true, I don’t act Cassie’s part much nowadays. It’s me coming through... Am I allowed to see this picture yet, Tom?’

  ‘Goodness, no – I’ve only got the outline. The real slog will begin at the next session. And now, my lady, we will stop to partake of some light refreshment.’ Tamara stretched her aching limbs and he looked at her admiringly. She was wearing a simply cut white dress trimmed with navy stitching. Her shoulders were tanned and her chestnut hair fell in thick waves. ‘You know I find it hard to believe that your sister is more beautiful than you, Tamara.’ Tamara laughed.

  ‘Flatterer... Cassie really is lovely. Her features are more delicate than mine and her figure is that much fuller. I have nothing particularly to recommend me.’

  He poured her a cool drink. ‘Now, don’t you run yourself down. I only paint those subjects who are pleasing to my eye.’ He looked at her sketches she had brought to show him of Rosemullion House and Tregarth Cove. ‘They’re good, Tamara. You’ve got quite a bit of talent there. Does Cassie draw?’

  ‘No – but she has a flair for design and she’s got very good taste.’

  ‘I like to think I’ve got good taste too, Tamara,’ he murmured as his arms came about her, but she was not in the mood.

  ‘Tom, I’m not sure this is wise. I don’t want to become involved again. Besides, I shall be going back to London shortly.’

  ‘How shortly? Tamara, you’re not going yet, are you?’

  ‘Not until you’ve finished my portrait,’ she teased, ‘but I must get back before the term begins. There are a hundred and one things to sort out with Cassie.’ He ran his finger down her cheekbone.

  ‘You disappoint me,
Tamara. I thought we were going to have lots of time together to get to know each other better.’

  ‘It’s time I was getting back, Tom,’ she said, looking at her watch.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Not yet, my sweet, not yet,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘Tell me, do they call you “Tam” for short?’

  ‘Sometimes.’

  He laughed. ‘Tam and Tom – that would be almost as good as Cassie Cassell-Boyd, wouldn’t it?’ With a sudden change of mind he pulled away from her. ‘Mother and Anne will be back at any minute and I think it might be better if you were gone, or Mother might get the wrong end of the stick... You’re a great girl, Tamara Simpson, and I’m glad you came instead of Cassie. Just remember that if ever things get too much for you up at Rosemullion House, you’ve got a friend here to stand by you... And if I ever ran into that Ian Gilbert, I’d make him pay for the way he treated you.’

  Tom was sweet, Tamara reflected as she walked back along the lane and she just wished she understood why Melissa hurt him so. But then Tamara knew from bitter experience just how complex human relationships could be.

  SIX

  Miriam was holding a small dinner-party to be followed by bridge that evening. Tamara decided she would be elegant and Cassie-like. Richard was going to be there and it was suddenly important to her that she looked her best, because, for once, she would not be compared with Melissa.

  The evening gown Tamara chose to wear was the one Oliver disliked. She felt really good in it, for it fitted very well indeed. It was black, very low-necked and extremely expensive. She swept her hair into a chignon and liberally applied Cassie’s perfume. She made up carefully. Finally she clipped on the gold pendant and earrings Ian had given her. She felt more poised and confident than she had for months.

  Richard was deep in conversation with one of Miriam’s friends when Tamara entered the drawing-room. He suddenly caught sight of her and, to her surprise, started and took a step forward. Then he collected himself, ‘Why Cassie, for a moment you reminded me of someone else.’