PAGAN ADVERSARY (26 page)

She hesitated again, then said levelly, 'If your— arrangement with my

son had been a long-term one he would no doubt have made some

financial provision for you. He is not ungenerous in such matters. As

it is, I am to give you this.' She produced a long flat case, and pushed

it across the desk towards Harriet.

A piece of jewellery, Harriet thought, staring at it numbly. The

ultimate insult. She wanted to say something, but she could not make

her voice work.

Madame Marcos was continuing. A seat had been obtained for her on

a plane to Athens, and another booking made from Athens to London.

A maid would be sent to assist with her packing.

At last she found words. 'Am I—am I going to be allowed to say

goodbye to Nicky?'

Madame Marcos' mouth tightened. 'Of course. We are not inhuman,

Miss Masters, and you, I think are not a fool. You must have known

that this—indelicate situation could not continue.'

Harriet- sank her teeth into her lower lip. 'Yes,' she said tonelessly.

'I was certain you would be sensible.' Madame Marcos touched the

box. 'You have forgotten your bracelet.'

'Is that what it is?' Harriet threw her head back. 'I haven't forgotten it.

I just don't share your family's obsession with jewellery—the giving

of it, or the withholding of it. Keep the bracelet for the next lady.

After all, Alex is hardly likely to remain celibate until the New Year.'

She sent the box sliding contemptuously back towards the older

woman across the polished surface of the desk, and walked out.

She paused for a moment in the hall outside, struggling to maintain

her composure, while a voice whispered crazily in her head, 'So that's

it. Over. Finished.'

She wanted to cry and scream, but that was impossible. She didn't

know how Alex's discarded women usually behaved, but she needed

to salvage some rags of dignity, if she could.

One day, some day, perhaps she would be glad that he didn't know the

truth, that she hadn't blurted out her love for him, but not yet. All she

was aware of now was an emptiness as big as the world as she walked

very slowly up the stairs to Nicky's room.

HARRIET felt dispirited as she made her way back to Manda's house.

The temporary job she had had since her return to London had ended

that day, and the agency had nothing else for her at the moment. She

felt ridiculously disappointed, because she had had every reason to

believe that the temp job had been about to become a permanency.

Roger Clayton who ran the office had spoken enthusiastically about

her work, and a possible vacancy, but today he had simply shaken

hands with her and muttered something about her efficiency.

At least she now had some money, she thought, and she could pay

Manda and Bill something for allowing her to stay with them. They

had been endlessly kind since she had arrived pale and hollow-eyed

on their doorstep, insisting that she could stay as long as she needed

to.

Harriet had been determined that it should only be a short stay. She

had to pick up her life and go on. Her job with her old company had

gone, of course, but the personnel department had taken her address

and telephone number and promised they would be in touch if a new

opportunity came up. So far, she had heard nothing, and she had

begun to doubt if she ever would, so it wasn't yet feasible to start

searching for a bed- sitter of her own again without a steady job to

pay for it.

The children Manda was minding had all gone home, and Manda was

sitting at the kitchen table with a freshly brewed pot of coffee in front

of her as Harriet let herself in at the back door.

Manda smiled across at her. 'Well?'

Harriet shook her head. 'Ill,' she returned with an effort at lightness.

'It's the dole next week, I'm afraid. Which reminds me --' She delved

into her bag and produced her wage envelope.

'Keep it,' said Manda. 'You're airing the spare room for us, after all,

and God knows, you don't eat enough to keep a fly alive.'

Harriet flushed slightly. Manda was a good cook, and it must have

gone hard with her to sit opposite a guest who sat picking at her

dinner most evenings. She had told Manda just enough to convince

her that it would have been impossible for her to have stayed at the

villa, without going into details over her involvement with Alex, and

hoped they would interpret her general wanness and lack of appetite

as pining for Nicky. But she had often intercepted a shrewd look from

Manda and thought helplessly that her friend wasn't deceived for a

minute, although she asked no embarrassing questions.

She said quietly, 'I'd rather pay my way—while I can.'

'Jobs with liveable wages are hard to come by,' Manda agreed. She

poured coffee into a cup and pushed it across the table to Harriet. She

went on reflectively, 'Of course you could always contact the Marcos

Corporation and remind them that you only went to Corfu on the

promise of a job when you returned.'

Harriet's flush deepened. She said, 'I'd rather die.'

'I thought so somehow,' Manda murmured, smiling into her own cup.

Harriet sighed abruptly. 'What do you want to know?' It might even

be a relief to confide in someone, she thought.

Manda shrugged. 'What do I need to know?' she . countered. 'You

don't eat, and you don't sleep. Half the time you walk round in a

dream. Nicky's a lovely child, but I can't believe he's had this

profound effect.'

'No, he hasn't.' Harriet bit her lip. 'Although I miss him terribly. I—I

worry about him too. He was still half-asleep when I saw him, and he

started telling me something about "the witch". He could have

nightmares for years about it all—or he could be ill.'

i doubt it.' Manda patted her arm reassuringly, as Harriet's voice

shook. 'Children are resilient little beasts, and everything that

happened that night will probably just seem like a bad dream to him

soon. It was hardly the psychological moment to get you to leave,

though,' she added, her brow creased.

Harriet forced a smile. 'Oh, I don't know. I've had time to think since,

and I believe in some ways Madame Marcos almost blamed me for

what happened. I think she felt it was my presence which had pushed

Madame Constantis to do as she did.'

in other words, she'd rather have gone on sharing her home with a

nut-case than learn the truth?' Manda questioned. She shook her head.

'I'll accept that you might have reminded her of things she'd rather

pretend never happened, but so will Nicky, for heaven's sake, and she

kept him. Drink your coffee,' she added prosaically.

Harriet obeyed shakily. After a pause, she said, 'You're right, of

course. That was only part of it. She wanted to be rid of me because I

was involved with— Alex.' She still found it hard to say his name.

Manda said carefully, 'When you say involved....'

Harriet stared concentratedly into her cup as if she was trying to

analyse the contents. 'That's exactly what I mean.'

'That's what I was afraid of,' Manda muttered, and gave an

exasperated sigh.

'All right/ Harriet spread her hands defensively. 'Tell me what a fool

I've been.'

Manda's mouth curved humorously. 'I'd say you know that already.

Isn't that what you've been telling yourself night after night, walking

up and down in your room? No, I haven't been listening at the door,'

she added with a slight grimace. 'But I had to get up for the twins one

night, and I saw your light on. I was afraid you might be ill.' She

paused and said with unmistakable emphasis, 'You're not, are you?'

'No,' Harriet said tautly. 'No—I don't even have that.' It was

something that had occurred to her once the first agony of her

departure was over, that a new life could have been created from that

one glorious night in Alex's arms. But she knew now that it was not to

be.

'Don't talk like that,' Manda reproached. 'You know quite well from

Nicky that bringing up a child single-handed is no picnic. Even when

the father is alive and well able to provide the financial support,' she

added.

Harriet bent her head unhappily. 'I know. I know all that, but I still

hoped. That's the sort of fool I've been.'

'Hell's bells,' Manda said helplessly. There was a long silence, then

she said gently, 'Does he know how you feel?'

Harriet shook her head, and Manda's lips tightened. 'Well, he must be

an insensitive bastard.'

'No.' Harriet was instantly defensive. 'I was careful never to let him

guess.'

'While you were having a full-blooded affair?' Manda demanded

sceptically. 'What did you do—tell him it was just your little hobby?'

'Hardly,' Harriet sighed. 'I don't think he'd have believed me. And it

was a very short-lived affair,' she added with wry bitterness. 'One

night, to be exact. Hardly a basis for declarations of undying love.'

'And certainly nothing to ruin the rest of your life for,' Manda told

her.

She was right, and Harriet knew it. Those last few hours on Corfu had

been full of forlorn hopes—that Alex would return by some miracle

and prevent her from leaving, even that he'd snatch her off the plane

before it could take off. But by the time she had waited at Athens for

her connection, and endured the flight to London, a sober, more

realistic train of thought had intervened. Alex wanted her to leave.

His mother had only been carrying out his wishes. Her only hope of

salvation was to forget him, to put everything that had happened out

of her mind, no matter how long it took. And if it meant cutting

herself off from Nicky, then she would have to do that too, however

much it hurt.

She'd heard a saying once, 'Love makes time pass. Time makes love

pass.' Well, when time had done its work, perhaps one day she could

make contact again, all passion spent. He would be married, of

course. She might even be married too, although nothing seemed less

likely.

She spent the weekend studying newspapers for possible jobs, and

writing endless letters of application for anything that seemed of

interest, not just in the capital, but all over the country. A change of

scene might be what she needed, she thought.

On Monday it rained, and she spent a depressing day going the rounds

of more temp agencies, getting her name on their books. Everywhere

there seemed to be retrenchment, and she wasn't offered much, apart

from a week's audio typing in ten days' time. It was late afternoon by

the time she made her way back to Manda's feeling a little footsore,

and wondering rather fatalistically if she would ever have a regular

job again. .. .

She was walking up the path, when the door opened and Manda leapt

out at her, a child in her arms and two more clinging to her long skirt.

'Thank heavens you're back!' she exclaimed. 'That Greek's been on

the telephone. Oh, honey, not him,' she added woefully, as she took in

Harriet's sudden tautness. 'The other one—Mr Philippides.'

'But how did he know where I was?' Harriet demanded.

'Sear6h me. But he wants you to go to his office as soon as possible.

It's something about Nicky.' Manda's eyes looked compassionately at

Harriet's paling cheeks. 'He said it was pretty urgent, but he wouldn't

go into details.',

Harriet's mouth trembled. 'There was a chance—just a chance of

pneumonia. Oh, Manda, do you think ...?'

'I don't know what to think, except that you'd better do as he asks and

get over there right away. He's left his number, so that I can phone

and tell him you're on your way.'

Harriet lingered. 'Perhaps if I phoned he'd tell me.

'Go on!' Manda gave her a little push. 'If by any remote chance it is an

emergency, he may want you to go with him somewhere. What about

your passport? Have you got that?'

'It's in my bag.' Harriet felt sick. Nicky, she thought, ill—or worse.

Nicky calling for her. It might already be too late. 'I'll go at once.'

'I'd come with you,' said Manda, 'only --' she gestured expressively at

her small hangers-on. 'Will you let me know—whatever the news?'

'Of course I will.' Tiredness forgotten, Harriet began to run back the

way she had come.

The journey seemed endless. She began to wonder what time Mr

Philippides' office closed, and whether she would arrive in time. It

would be torture if it was all shut up, and she had to go back to

Manda's and wait on tenterhooks until the following day. She

splurged on a taxi for the last few miles, and sat on the edge of her

seat nervously watching the traffic, silently cursing every hold-up.

Her destination reached, she thrust some money into the driver's hand