Paper Doll (8 page)

He blew his nose before turning to watch it race around the track, a self-deprecating smile on his face. ‘I haven’t been up here since . . . only God knows when.’ He shrugged and sucked in a deep breath. ‘Men aren’t supposed to cry, are they?’

‘It’s all right, Martin, I understand.’ She kissed his cheek, her mouth like a butterfly settling lightly on his skin before it flew off again.

The train slowed and stopped exactly at the station. His father had timed the clockwork movement to the length of rail to do exactly that. ‘It probably needs oiling,’ he said.

‘See, you came back to him, Martin. He’d have been pleased to know that you survived.’

‘Yes . . . I imagine that would have been the case.’ He took the figure from the bridge and gazed at it, then stood the two together on the platform and gave a faint sigh. ‘I would like to have seen my father again.’

‘Yes . . . it’s hard to lose a parent. Pass me the box and I’ll pack the train set and the figures. It’s on that shelf.’

Somehow he found it in his hands, and he gave it to her. There was a picture of a speeding train on the lid with smoke belching out of the funnel.

She gave a huff of laughter and ran her finger through the dust coating it. ‘How odd . . . It’s a train set made by the Howard Toy factory.’

‘I’d forgotten. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it.’

‘Go and fetch the picnic basket, Martin dear; the station and bridges should easily fit in there.’

She had given him time to get a grip on himself, and he was grateful for her sensitivity. An hour later and they were carrying slabs of painted papier mâché landscape down the stairs. It was larger than he’d expected and he expressed his doubt.

‘If nothing else we can wrap it in the dustsheet, stand it on the running board and tie it to the door on the passenger side.’

Which was exactly what they did do.

Martin woke her early next morning with a cup of tea, and they packed the rest of the stuff in the car before they ate breakfast. He delivered the key to the letting agent, who would hire a cleaning service and find a decent tenant. Hopefully, the house would rent quickly, and that would bring him in some extra money to help pay his own rent.

The trip back to London was uneventful. Creased and dusty, Julia fell asleep snuggled under her fur coat and a heap of cushions. He was glad, because he didn’t much feel like talking, let alone making conversation for the sake of it.

He woke her when he reached her apartment block and she emerged from sleep and the cushions with a startled look and mussed-up hair. Her smile appeared when she realized where they were and her fingers raked her hair into a semblance of order. ‘Home already,’ and was it his imagination or was there a note of regret in her voice.

‘Thanks for your help, Julia. I don’t know how I would have managed without you, especially where the eating arrangements were concerned. You’re very practical.’

‘Thank you, and it was my pleasure. Aren’t you coming in?’

‘No . . . I’ve got about two hours left of daylight to get this car unpacked. Tell your father I’ll clean the car and take it back to the garage in the morning.’

‘Oh, the garage will clean it for you.’ She smiled at him. ‘It was fun, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, I suppose it was.’

‘Couldn’t you be a little more enthusiastic?’

It had been more fun having her there to talk to than doing it alone, though he’d exposed his emotions when he shouldn’t have and embarrassed himself – her as well, he imagined. She’d been surprisingly sympathetic.

‘I enjoyed your company . . . and yes, it
was
fun.’ He placed a kiss on her peachy mouth, remembered he wasn’t ready to get involved, and quickly withdrew.

He left the engine running and went round to open the passenger door for her. When he realized his mistake and turned back, she was standing on the pavement with a grin on her face.

‘I can’t get out that side, remember.’

‘I do remember now.’ His mouth dried as he engaged her eyes with their long dark lashes. He struggled with a strong urge to kiss her again.

Her chuckle said she knew it. ‘I thought you were going, Martin.’

Then he remembered that it was he who’d set the rules. It would not be wise to become involved with her. If what had happened the day before was any indication, he wasn’t yet ready to handle a relationship, or commit himself emotionally to anyone. So he took a step back and inclined his head. ‘I am going. Thank you once again; your help was invaluable.’

‘Oh, you’ve stepped back into your business suit, how very annoying of you.’ She stepped forward into the space he’d vacated and kissed his cheek. Her eyes glittered like emeralds. ‘Take care, and have a happy New Year.’

Everything retreated. Rooted to the pavement he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. A pulse beat erratically against his temple reminding him he was still alive.

There was a sudden swirl of grit and dead leaves around their ankles, carried by a fitful breeze. The lash of it broke the spell between them.

‘And you, Julia,’ and for some reason he felt like crying again. Sliding back into the car seat he controlled himself for as long as it took to engage the gears and drive off. The road blurred before his eyes as he left her, standing there staring after him.

A
second honk on the horn took Julia to the window. She opened it a little and gazed down at the road. Charles, astride their conveyance, was parked in a pool of light under the street lamp.

‘I’ll just be a minute, Charles. Stop making such a racket.’

‘Is that any way to treat a swain? Get a move on, Julia, my love. It’s freezing out here.’ He revved the motor up.

‘In my day, gentlemen escorts picked their ladies up in time and at the door. They also introduced themselves to their parents,’ her father said, clearly disapproving. ‘Close the window, Julia. You’re letting the warmth out.’

‘Sorry.’ She kissed him. ‘Do I look all right?’

‘Perfect. You’re too good for that ill-mannered young man.’ He took her hand in his. ‘You will be careful, won’t you dear? Charles Curruthers has an unsavoury reputation.’

She avoided his eyes, doubt slithering into her like a stream of cold slush. Talking about losing her virginity was much easier than actually going through with it, and now the time had nearly come she was nervous. Tosh! She thought. Irene had lost hers and was none the worse for it.

‘There will be a crowd of us, so no harm will come to me, I promise. Look, if you’re really worried I’ll stay home. We could play chess.’

‘And spoil your New Year celebrations, my dear. Nonsense! I’m just a grumpy old man who has forgotten what it’s like to be young, and I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m going to put my feet up and listen to the wireless.’

From outside came a series of impatient toots on the horn. The engine revved to an alarming roar, backfired a couple of times, then eased down again.

Annoyance settled on her father’s face. ‘Go on then, don’t keep him waiting any longer, Julia, else I might just take out my pistol and shoot him.’

‘Since when have you owned a pistol?’ She wrapped herself in the silver fox, tied a silk scarf around her hair, gave her father a final kiss and hurried off downstairs.

‘Julia, my angel . . . at last. I was just about to go on my way without you.’

Charles Curruthers was handsome in a boyish sort of way. His golden blond hair flopped over his forehead, his skin was soft and fine and his bottom lip had a natural pout that gave him a slightly sulky look.

He pulled on a flying helmet and gazed through innocent baby-blue eyes at her. His smile was lopsided as he held out a second helmet. ‘Dear oh dear . . . Irene informs me that you’re still untouched by human hand.’

She blushed. ‘Don’t tease.’

‘I’m not teasing. Don’t feel ashamed, Julia; I’ll soon have my lascivious way with you and reverse the situation. I won’t charge for my service, either. I rather fancy you, actually. I’ve never had an old-fashioned innocent.’

Her blush became furious and she pressed her cool palms against her cheeks.

He laughed. ‘Remove your scarf and put the helmet on, there’s a good girl. It will be warmer.’

‘But it will flatten my hairstyle.’

‘I’m sure Irene’s maid will rearrange it for you. Come on, Julia, old thing, stop being difficult . . . do it, just for Charlie?’

Removing her scarf she folded it, placed it in her pocket and pulled on the leather helmet.

‘It suits you,’ he said, and taking her face in his hands he gently kissed her mouth. He tasted of tobacco. ‘Get in the sidecar and I’ll tuck the rug around you to keep the cold out.’

They were soon on their way, roaring around the streets with great dash – too much dash for her as she clung to the edges of the sidecar with eyes closed, giving fearful little screams and moans as she was thrown about. It was the most uncomfortable mode of transport she’d ever used. Charles laughed like a maniac as he narrowly missed parked cars and kerbs.

Then they were out in the country. Bounced from one pothole to the next, they headed through a tunnel of light made by the headlights. It was cold, even wrapped in her fur and a blanket. She sank down behind the windscreen so the wind didn’t snatch her breath from her lungs.

Before too long house lights in the misty distance appeared, then a low oblong building that grew into a dignified stately manor as they neared it. They raced around the circular driveway littered with cars, scattering gravel, and drew up outside a porch. Light spilled from the windows and the sound of music came beating from inside the house.

Julia felt slightly nauseated, and was shaking when she climbed out of the sidecar. She could have sworn that every bone in her spine was disconnected.

A window was pushed up and Irene screamed out, ‘Yoo-hoo! Julia, darling, I’m up here. It was too bad of Charlie to pick you up late.’

‘Felicitations, Sis,’ Charles shouted back. ‘I was carpeted by pater before I could escape. He said he’s holding me responsible for the party, and if any damage is done he’ll take the cost of repairs from my allowance.

Irene laughed unsympathetically. ‘As long as he doesn’t take it from mine . . . Don’t worry, Brother dear, you know daddy is more bark than bite where you’re concerned, and you’re the favourite son and heir. Besides, I instructed the staff to hide all the breakables that were within reach. Oh, I say . . . Where did that ghastly hat come from, Julia? Take it off at once . . . Come up and show me what you’re wearing. It was terribly brave of you to come with Charles.’

Julia eased the leather helmet from her head and threw it into the sidecar, relieved to note that her sick feeling had receded. She shook her head to help settle her hair back into its natural waves.

Charles blew his sister a kiss. ‘Nonsense, she was perfectly safe, and all in one piece just as I promised . . . though not for much longer. Like Cinderella, on the stroke of midnight she will be awakened by the kiss of the handsome prince.’

‘That was sleeping beauty, you idiot.’

Charles propelled the blushing Julia towards the door, one hand cupped between her buttocks. His fingers applied pressure through the soft fur of her coat. Although Julia’s instinct was to give in to the pressure and open her legs a little, she automatically clenched her muscles against the personal intrusion.

He chuckled against her ear and whispered, ‘I like a nice, tight arse.’

She felt dubious. ‘Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all, Charles.’

‘Nonsense! It’s a brilliant idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.’ A cheer went up when they appeared. Charles gave a sweeping bow. ‘Miss Julia Howard everyone. Isn’t she a peach?’

There was a barrage of wolf whistles. A couple of men advanced to gaze at her, and the one with dark eyes murmured, ‘I’ll say she’s a peach. Adam Oldham at your service, sweets.’

‘How do you do?’ Julia said.

The other one looked her up and down from slightly hooded grey eyes. He offered Charles a faintly contemptuous smile and drawled, ‘Where did you find this exquisite creature? Introduce me at once.’

‘Julia, this is Viscount Gyesworth.’

‘My Lord.’

Sliding his hand behind her head he pulled her close and kissed her on the mouth. His tongue began to make inroads. When she hastily pulled away she only barely resisted the urge to wipe her mouth on her sleeve. He gave her a mocking look, as if he’d read her mind, and murmured, ‘Very tasty, Charles, very tasty indeed, and she’s got a full set of teeth. Let’s not stand on ceremony, sweetheart; call me Rupert.’

She’d rather not call him anything. ‘Excuse me, Irene’s waiting for me to go upstairs.’

‘Her room is up the stairs. Take the corridor to the right, and Irene’s door is the second on the right.’ Charles plucked a flute of champagne from a passing servant and placed it in her hand. ‘Here you are, Julia. Take this up with you, it will help you to relax.’

She felt the eyes of the three men upon her as she climbed the stairs and couldn’t resist the urge to look back, just in time to see the three of them exchange a knowing look, go into a huddle and laugh together.

They knew! Charles had told them. She was peeved by the thought that her intact state was a source of amusement.

Irene was on the landing, looking dramatic in a startling red dress covered in shimmering black beads, and a headband with a waving black feather at the front. She dragged her into the bedroom, lushly furnished in blue and gold and warmed by a fire in the grate. The room was littered with clothing, as if Irene had tried on everything in her wardrobe.

Outlined by kohl, Irene’s blue eyes glittered with mischief as she grabbed up Julia’s overnight bag and threw it on to the bed. Her lipstick was a scarlet pout. ‘I’m glad you’re here, at last. I’ve been waiting for you so we can go down together. Let me see what you’re wearing,’ and she gave a little scream. ‘We must do something about that hair. It’s so flat.’

‘Charles made me wear a helmet.’

‘Just as well, otherwise your ears would have suffered from frostbite in that contraption he drives. I don’t know why he doesn’t get a car.’ She jerked impatiently on the embroidered bell pull. ‘Drink your champagne while we wait for Ellen to come and see to you.’