Anne Mather (11 page)

'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 old 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.'

'Oh, John,' she began slowly, 'it's beautiful. But I couldn't possibly accept such a costly present from you, really.'

'Is that all?' John looked relieved and smiled. 'Don't be silly. I shall be offended if you refuse. Please, Caroline. I want you to have it, to wear it.'

Caroline sighed. It seemed that fate intended that she should have the bracelet, but she felt she hated the brilliant thing. It would be a continual reminder of things that might have been and Adam's rejection of her.

'Very well,' she said at last. 'Thank you, John. I can honestly say I've never seen or owned such a beautiful piece of jewellery.'

John looked and felt pleased with himself.

'Good,' he said. 'Now, I'm going to give you a

really wonderful day. A day to remember.'

And so he did. Had it not been for the constant reminders of Adam in his manner and attitudes, Caroline thought it would have been the most perfect birthday she had ever spent.

They returned to London in the evening and went to a nightclub to celebrate her entry into the 'drinking classes' as he put it.

The following day, Sunday, John could only meet her in the late evening. He had spent the day with his father at Slayford and had had difficulty in explaining why he hadn't brought his current girl-friend to meet his father. Adam was used to John's conquests being exhibited before him and could not understand his son's rather strained conversation concerning the girl he was going to meet that evening. However, he did not probe too deeply, relying on John to tell him if he wanted to.

John told Caroline a little of this and Caroline felt awful.

'I expect you'll have to tell him,' she said, sighing. 'I don't want to cause dissension between you.'

'I will, some time,' said John, sensing her discomfiture. 'Don't worry. He won't object.'

Caroline wondered about this. Would he object? And if he didn't what would it prove?

They spent the rest of the evening at a jazz club in a cellar in Chelsea. The music was played by a black band and it was wild and pulsating. At John's suggestion Caroline was dressed in scarlet velvet lounging pants and a black sweater and was glad she had taken his advice. All the members seemed to dress in this way and danced with abandon to the African rhythm.

After a particularly energetic session, Caroline collapsed against John in one corner of the big room.

'You're very good,' she confessed breathlessly, 'but I'm exhausted.'

'You're not so bad yourself,' he replied, looking down at her as she tried to straighten up, away from him. She was quite unconscious of the effect she was having on John, his senses roused by the passionate music.

Suddenly, he bent his head and she felt his mouth against the side of her neck, his body trembling against hers.

'Oh, John!' She drew away, breathing quickly.

'Am I blacklisted?' he muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair.

'No, of course not,' she answered, not quite aware of how to handle this situation. She had not considered this happening somehow, although she was aware that John had been watching her of late with more than friendship in his eyes. She had hoped against hope that she was no more to him than he was to her, but apparently this was not so. They had had a lot of fun and lots of laughs, but that was as far as she wanted it to go. She could never love anyone else in the way she loved Adam and she knew instinctively that that was the right way. No matter what happened, John could never be more than second-best.

'Surely you'd guessed how I felt?' he asked her, studying her face in the semi-darkness of the quiet alcove.

'No, I'm afraid I didn't,' she replied restlessly. 'Oh, John, what can I say. . .'

He shrugged. 'Please, don't say anything. Forget it.

It was too much to hope you might be feeling the same way.'

Caroline sighed, shaking her head. 'Does this mean we stop seeing each other?' she asked.

'No. At least I hope not,' he protested, grasping her shoulders. 'Caroline, I'm in love with you. I've never felt this way before. I must go on seeing you.'

Caroline hesitated and then moved closer to him. 'Kiss me, John. If you want to?'

John needed no second bidding and bent his head to hers. His mouth was warm and tender and very pleasant, but as they kissed Caroline found herself imagining it was Adam kissing her and her response intoxicated John. The kiss hardened in its passion and with a stifled cry she drew back, rubbing a hand across her lips. It was hateful making use of John in this way.

When they drove home later, Caroline felt undecided and said:

'Are you really sure you want to go on seeing me?'

'Of course,' he replied swiftly. 'Who knows, one day you might suddenly find yourself in love with me. I can only hope, and I want to be around if that happens. After all, you seemed attracted to my father. Am I so different?'

'No. You're very like him,' answered Caroline.

'Good. Then that's settled,' he said, with a smile, and she relaxed.

After John had returned to Radbury, Caroline found herself more alone than ever somehow. Whether their closer relationship had anything to do with it, she wasn't sure, but she certainly missed him.

However, she began to take a more conscientious interest in her work and Miss Morgan found she was the most efficient in the typing pool. In the Steinbeck Corporation typing pool, good workers were always appreciated and so when one of the senior secretaries left Caroline was offered her position. She accepted with alacrity, although she was aware that her promotion was considered favouritism by the other girls. The old story about herself and Adam was brought up and Caroline was glad when she moved into her new office.

She was to be private secretary to Mr Lawson, who was in charge of salaries. His staff calculated income tax and insurance contributions together with all the other work connected with wages. Caroline's work proved much more varied and interesting and she enjoyed working without supervision.

As Easter neared, Caroline found herself looking forward to John's vacation. In one letter he had told her that his father was flying to America in May to see John's grandmother and wanted John to accompany him. John said that he was trying to get out of it and as yet nothing was decided.

One afternoon in early April, Caroline's boss did not return from his lunch and at two o'clock his wife rang to say that he had developed a severe migraine and was taking the afternoon off. Caroline said how sorry she was before Mrs Lawson rang off and then busied herself with a pile-up of overdue filing. She occupied an office of her own and was working industriously when the telephone pealed beside her. It was the internal telephone and expecting to speak to one of the office staff Caroline lifted the receiver.

'Mr Lawson's office. Miss Sinclair speaking,' she said easily.

There was a moment's silence and then a husky male voice asked quietly: 'Caroline. Is that you?'

Caroline's legs went weak and she sank down on to the edge of the desk.

'Adam,' she breathed, and then with a semblance of pride she asked: 'What can I do for you?'

'I wanted to speak to Mr Lawson,' replied Adam, still in that quiet, assured voice. 'I didn't know you worked for him.'

'I'm Mr Lawson's secretary,' replied Caroline stiffly. She had realised that he had been as surprised as herself when they spoke. After all, had he wanted to get in touch with her he would hardly have done so at the office. She swallowed hard.

'Mr Lawson isn't in this afternoon. His wife rang to say he had a severe attack of migraine and was going straight to bed.'

'I see.' He sighed. 'Never mind. I'll contact him later in the week.'

There was silence for a minute and then he said: 'How are you?'

'I'm fine,' she replied, forcing her voice to sound light and disinterested. 'And you? Did you enjoy your holiday?'

'My holiday?.. .oh.. .you mean in January. Yes, it was very pleasant. John came with me for a few weeks during his Christmas vacation. Did you have a good Christmas?'

'Fairly good,' agreed Caroline lightly. This small talk between them was so frustrating. Why didn't he ring off?'

'Tell me,' he said, suddenly intense, 'who is this young man you're going around with?'

Caroline was astounded. How on earth did he know she was going out with anybody? Was he having her investigated or something? Suddenly she felt angry. How dare he ask her such a question? It was nothing to him but idle curiosity.

'I can't imagine what business it is of yours,' she exclaimed furiously. 'Where on earth do you get your information?'

'Don't get so angry,' he said easily. 'I'm not having you followed, if that's what you think. I simply happened to see you having a meal in a coffee bar in Chelsea a few weeks ago with a young man. Is it Davison?'

'No, it's not. Didn't you see him for yourself?' Her anger had subsided somewhat.