Dark Secret (15 page)

‘They’re very sophisticated people,’ Mark blundered on. ‘If you ever want to get away, to …’

‘I’m not a prisoner,’ protested Harriet, her voice rising with indignation. ‘I’m free to leave whenever I like.’

Lewis couldn’t hear Harriet’s words but he could hear her voice and knew by the tone that something Mark had said had made her anxious. He looked down the table at his scriptwriter and his eyes were dark. ‘Something wrong?’ he asked politely.

Mark shook his head. ‘Of course not.’

‘Harriet?’

She smiled at Lewis. ‘No, nothing’s wrong.
Mark was just warning me about the perils of working for people like you!’

‘If he thinks it’s that perilous he’d better find himself a new employer,’ said Lewis. He kept his voice light but Mark felt a chill run through him. Lewis was ruthless, and if he thought for one moment that Mark was endangering his work then he would instantly have him removed and sent back to the States. The two previous Oscars, their years of collaboration, would count for nothing.

‘Luckily Harriet’s far too sensible to listen to me,’ Mark retorted. ‘I was only trying to prise her away so that she could work for me. I’m in desperate need of a good secretary myself.’

‘Harriet’s far more than a secreatary,’ said Rowena, breaking off her conversation with one of the film’s financial backers. ‘Why, she’s really one of the family now – isn’t that right, Harriet?’

Out of the blue Harriet remembered the feel of hands on her body a few nights earlier. Hands that had given her such pleasure when she’d been half-asleep and masked. She looked at Rowena’s hands, wondering why she should think of that at this moment when Rowena hadn’t even been there. Guilt, she supposed.

‘Harriet?’ repeated Rowena.

She managed a warm smile. ‘It’s very kind of you to say so, Rowena.’

Rowena’s best professional bubbly laugh sounded round the room. ‘So modest – it’s a wonderful English virtue, I find! Why, Harriet’s charmed us all. My husband, my brother Chris, and me too of course. None of us can imagine how things were before she joined us, isn’t that true, Lew?’

Lewis, realising that his wife had probably had too much to drink, attempted to change the direction of the conversation. ‘Quite true, darling. I’ve never seen your filing in such good order! The tomato and olive tart was superb – you must congratulate the cook.’

‘I think Harriet should do some work for me,’ said Chris suddenly.

Harriet turned her head towards him. ‘I’d be glad to, as long as I wasn’t needed by Rowena or Lewis.’

Chris, his face flushed by wine, laughed heartily. ‘You could spare her occasionally, couldn’t you, Rowena?’

Rowena’s lips tightened. ‘I hardly think you need a secretary to read scripts for you, Chris, and you certainly don’t have fan mail to deal with.’

All round the table people fell silent. It was common knowledge that Rowena and Chris were devoted to each other, so this sudden sharpness and the deliberate put-down were totally unexpected.

Chris didn’t look taken aback though, he merely smiled his most charming smile. ‘Perhaps that would change if I wasn’t forever living in your shadow, Rowena. Now that your days as a sex goddess are over it might be my turn to carry on the family tradition. I’d love to play a handsome seducer.’

‘Rowena’s days as a sex goddess are only “over”, as you put it, because she wants to be taken seriously as an actress,’ said Lewis quickly. ‘I’m sure we can all see tonight that the choice must have been hers.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Mark, quick to pick up a cue.

Rowena smiled at both men, ignoring her half-brother. ‘How sweet of you, Lewis, and you too, Mark. Goodness, is that the time? Does anyone want any more cheese or shall we ladies withdraw?’

The tiny goats’ cheeses wrapped in vine leaves had been delicious, as had the strawberry sorbet before them, but Harriet had tasted very little, and it was with some relief that she went with the other women into the drawing-room. Despite her denial, Mark’s words had unsettled her, and so had Lewis’s admiration of his companion at the dinner table.

Although her fame had come through her ability to portray great sexual magnetism on the screen, Rowena was unusual in so far as she had always been able to gain the admiration of women as well. Tonight, laughing and chatting with the other female guests, she wove her spell over them all and Harriet noticed the way even the Eurasian girl’s beauty and youth seemed to dim in Rowena’s presence.

Briefly she wondered how she could ever hope to capture Lewis’s heart, but then she told herself that whatever her hold over him, Rowena certainly didn’t have his heart, in which case Harriet had as much chance as anyone of winning it.

Later the men joined them and the conversation became noisier while the air grew thick with cigar smoke. After a time Harriet felt she’d suffocate if she didn’t get any air and she made her way outside.

She went to the walled garden at the bottom of the sloping lawn and sat down on the carved
wooden seat, drawing in deep breaths of the mild summer night air.

When she heard someone approaching her heart began to beat faster. She was sure that it was Lewis, that he’d followed her outside to make arrangements for when the guests had gone, and her body tingled with excited anticipation. ‘I thought I saw you leave,’ said a voice, but it didn’t belong to Lewis, it belonged to Chris.

‘It was stuffy in there,’ explained Harriet, struggling to keep the disappointment out of her voice. ‘I hope Rowena won’t think me rude.’

‘She won’t notice you’ve gone!’ laughed Chris. ‘When Rowena’s centre stage she doesn’t keep a head count of the admiring audience. As long as there are plenty of people she’s satisfied.’

‘I think you’re being unfair to her,’ retorted Harriet. ‘She isn’t nearly as vain as I’d expected her to be.’

‘And you’re far more beautiful than I’d expected you to be,’ murmured Chris, sitting down next to her.

Harriet moved her legs slightly so that her knees weren’t touching his. She didn’t like his intimate tone, and she couldn’t help remembering how she’d seen him behaving with Rowena in the film star’s bedroom. The strange sick excitement she’d felt then was still stirred at the memory, but it made her want Lewis, not Chris.

‘Have you always been beautiful?’ Chris asked, resting an arm along the back of the seat.

Harriet felt like laughing, but there was something about him that made the idea seem a
dangerous one so she attempted to brush the remark aside in another way. ‘Yes, from the moment I was born. Nurses swooned away and one of the doctors asked my mother if he could come and ask for my hand eighteen years on.’

‘You really are beautiful,’ said Chris. ‘Surely you know that?’

‘I think you’ve drunk too much wine,’ said Harriet. ‘Rowena’s beautiful, I’m attractive. There’s a big difference.’

He put a hand on her knee and she froze into stillness. ‘Rowena’s a witch,’ he confided. ‘She traps people with her beauty and then they can’t get free. You wouldn’t do that, would you?’

‘I’ve no idea. I haven’t managed to trap anyone yet.’

‘It’s no joke, being trapped,’ he continued, his voice verging on self-pity. ‘You end up despising yourself for your weakness, but it doesn’t make any difference.’

Harriet knew she had to pretend that she wasn’t aware of Chris’s intimate reltionship with Rowena. ‘You’re only her half-brother!’ she protested. ‘If you got married, made a life for yourself, you’d be free straight away. Why hang around here if she makes you miserable?’

‘Because I need her,’ he said fiercely. ‘We need each other. Sometimes I think we’ll only be free when one of us is dead.’

His hand tightened on her knee and she edged further away from him. At once the arm along the back of the seat grabbed her round her shoulders. ‘Don’t you know what an obsession’s like?’ he demanded. ‘Haven’t you ever been consumed with need for someone?’

Yes, thought Harriet, I’m consumed with need for Lewis right now but even if he wants to come and see me he can’t because you’re sitting here preventing him. ‘No,’ she said calmly.

‘I think that’s a lie,’ said Chris softly, and then she felt the hand on her left shoulder start to edge up the side of her neck in an undeniably intimate gesture.

Harriet jumped to her feet. ‘I’d better go back now.’

‘Why?’ he asked sulkily.

‘I feel better, that’s why.’

‘Lewis won’t have missed you; he’s busy with Marita. She’s stunning, don’t you think? And Lewis’s type as well.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes, Lewis likes women like that. She’s quite without emotion you see. All Marita wants is to get on in films, and she’s beautiful enough to manage it. You can still sleep your way to a reasonable amount of success, but Lewis will sleep with her and not use her in any film. He dislikes emotional commitment, you see.’

‘He married Rowena,’ Harriet pointed out, longing to get back to the house and see if what Chris was saying was true.

‘He married her and he scares her but he sure as hell isn’t in love with her,’ snarled Chris. ‘If he was he’d try to satisfy her more.’

‘I don’t think you should be talking to me like this,’ protested Harriet.

Chris stood up and grabbed her by an arm, twisting her round to face him. ‘Why not? You’re being screwed by Lewis, aren’t you? Surely that puts you on an equal footing with Rowena, and I
often discuss Lewis’s failings as a husband with her.’

‘If you don’t let go of me,’ said Harriet fiercely, ‘I shall slap your face and shout for help.’

For a moment Chris hesitated, but then his hand dropped to his side and he sank back on the seat again. ‘Run back to Lewis,’ he jeered, ‘but don’t blame me when you find he’s no longer interested. He has the attention span of a two-year-old where women are concerned. No doubt he had a great time with you, but that time’s over now.’

‘You’re drunk and I don’t want to hear another word,’ snapped Harriet, and then she was running away from him, back up the lawn towards the crowded house.

While she’d been gone some of the dinner guests had paired off and were engaged in acts of varying intimacy in the hall, the drawing-room and even on the stairs. Rowena was sitting in the conservatory drinking coffee and talking to another woman but there was no sign of Lewis, or the Eurasian girl, Marita.

‘I’m off to bed,’ Harriet told Rowena. ‘It was a lovely evening.’

Rowena peered at her through the smoke of one of her rare cigarettes. ‘Did you enjoy it? You don’t look very happy.’

‘I’m just tired. I’m not used to such late hours!’

‘Have you seen my brother?’

‘Chris went into the garden,’ Harriet told her.

Rowena smiled. ‘He’s drunk too much. I’ll say goodnight to Lewis for you; he’s busy right now.’

The woman with her laughed. ‘He certainly is. Marita keeps most men busy. She nearly killed
my husband last year!’ Rowena’s laughter joined her friend’s and Harriet fled upstairs, certain that they were secretly mocking her.

She lay awake until six in the morning but Lewis didn’t join her, and she guessed then that the story must have been true and Marita had kept him busy. At first she wept, but then she told herself that crying was useless. A man like that was bound to be used to casual affairs – what she had to do was make herself indispensable to him, no matter what was necessary to achieve it.

As Harriet finally fell asleep, Lewis disengaged himself from the smooth golden limbs of his companion and lay on his back wondering why it was that despite Marita’s athleticism and incredible skill at fellatio she had failed to hold his attention. Once or twice he’d found himself thinking about Harriet, picturing her in the Eurasian girl’s place. It was all very unsettling and most unlike him.

In the end he woke Marita, handed her her clothes and sent her home in his car. He didn’t want any more to do with her, and knew by the expression on her face that she wouldn’t want anything to do with him again. It was of no importance. It had only ever been intended as a moment’s pleasure and a spur to what was intended to be Harriet’s increasing need for him now that he was going to leave her alone for a time. The realisation that he wouldn’t be sleeping with her for nearly a week hurt. She was meant to miss him but he hadn’t anticipated missing her as well.

No one appeared downstairs in the house the following morning until twelve o’ clock, and even
then it was only Harriet. She made herself toast and coffee then took it into the sun-drenched conservatory. She wanted to see Lewis, to speak to him, and her body ached for his skilled touch but she wasn’t sure what she was going to say when he did come down.

He and Rowena eventually joined her a little after two in the afternoon, and much to her surprise the pair of them seemed thoroughly absorbed in each other. Just as he had when Harriet first arrived at the house, Lewis kept touching his wife. His hands would caress her back and shoulders, or he would touch her on the arm to emphasise a point in his conversation. They both looked cheerful and were friendly towards Harriet but she felt herself being subtly excluded as they exchanged quick smiles or laughed at private jokes.

Harriet couldn’t understand it. Lewis hadn’t appeared to be tiring of her. Their last session together had been the best ever, and yet now it looked as though it was all over.

Later, Lewis left the house and then Chris joined the two women. He barely spoke to Harriet, managing a brief greeting but refusing to meet her eye. With Rowena though he was so intimate that once again Harriet felt like an interloper. He touched her as intimately as Lewis had touched her, and once he bent his head and kissed the top of her spine where the vertebrae were exposed by the scoop neck of the blouse she was wearing. The sight of the kiss on the tender flesh sent a shiver through Harriet. She didn’t want Chris, bu she longed for Lewis to kiss her in the same way.

Confused and frustrated she passed the day as best she could on her own, swimming in the pool, using the sunbed and later walking in the garden. By this time Lewis had returned. He stood next to his wife and together they watched the tall, slim figure wandering along the path at the side of the house.