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'Don't leave me, Sven, stay with me.'

'I must not,' he said hoarsely. 'Child, I am a man ...'

'I'm not a child, I'm a woman, you've made me one. Sven, I love you. I can't do without you.'

He picked her up with effortless ease and laid her down on the couch which was part of the furnishings, but when he tried to stand up, she wreathed her arms about his neck, filled with new and bewildering sensations, which were frightening in their intensity. She could not bear to let him go.

'Sven, I need you, you mustn't go.'

He uttered a sort of groan, and his weight came down upon her as he muttered: 'God knows I do not want to, but...'

He buried his face in her breasts, and she tore at his collar and shirt so that she could feel his flesh.

There was a sudden scratching and yelping at the door, which not being firmly shut, flew open, and Tessa bounded into the room. She hurled herself on the two on the sofa uttering short ecstatic barks, between violent licking of both their faces. With a muttered oath, Sven stood up and mechanically sought to adjust his crumpled clothing. Katie knocked discreetly on the half opened door.

'Beg pardon for intruding, but the dog won't settle without her master, and she got loose.' She looked curiously from the girl lying amid the froth of her tangerine skirts, her bodice disarranged, her eyes, dark with emotion, enormous in her pale face which was drained by the strength of newly aroused passion, to the man, pale also, but impassive, for Sven had regained his cool. Actually he seemed relieved by the intervention of the dog. Not so Sonya, who as she gathered Tessa into her arms was aware of a sense of intense frustration.

'Tessa will be all right with me,' she said, striving to speak calmly. She sat upright, swinging her legs to the ground. 'I'll have her in my room tonight.' She looked up at Sven, quick colour flooding her face at the recollection of what had passed between them, but he looked as if nothing unusual had occurred. 'I ... I suppose you'll have to go,' she faltered.

'I think I had better,' he said emphatically with a sardonic curl of his lip, and turned to Katie. 'Miss Vincent felt a little faint, but she has had some brandy and is feeling better.'

'There's no need to fret, miss,' Katie said stolidly. 'The master's going to be all right.' She looked doubtfully at Sven. She knew him from his frequent visits to Eliot, but it seemed unnecessary to be lingering with the daughter who ought to be in bed after her tiring evening.

Sonya realised with a sense of shame that she had forgotten about her father.

'I'll look after Miss Vincent,' Katie added pointedly.

'I am sure you will,' Sven declared. 'And I must be on my way. I will ring you in the morning, Sonya. Goodbye.'

He went swiftly from the room as if glad to make his escape. Sonya hugged the dog to her breast, feeling suddenly bereft.

She awoke next morning with a sense of keen expectancy. She had on the previous night looked in on her father and seen he was peacefully sleeping. Matheson had insisted she need not sit up with him; he would probably sleep until morning, and he would leave his door ajar—Sonya looked worn out and in need of a good night. She was, and she slept like the dead.

She knew as soon as her eyes were open what she was anticipating; Sven's call, or possibly he would appear in person. She jumped out of bed and scurried to the bathroom, fearful she might miss him if he enquired by phone. Her thoughts regarding him were confused, but she was hoping for some avowal which would clarify the situation and justify last night's happenings.

Sven rang soon after breakfast and his voice at the other end of the wire was cool and unemotional as he asked about her father. Sonya was able to tell him he was much better, it had only been a slight attack, but he was to stay in bed for a few days.

'Then he won't be receiving visitors, so I shall be free tonight,' was his comment.

'Yes ...' she said breathlessly. 'And I shan't be going out. I... shall be alone here.'

But he did not take the hint.

'Give you a chance to recover from the dance,' he remarked casually. 'By the way, how do you feel this morning? No hangover?'

'Hangover?' she echoed stupidly. That was the last thing she expected him to suggest.

'You seemed a bit high. My fault, I do apologise—I gave you too much brandy.'

Her temper flared; he was using the brandy as an excuse for all that had happened.

'That isn't the only thing you have to apologise for,' she told him tartly.

'You sound annoyed. What did I do?'

'You ... you kissed me!'

He laughed. 'So I did. I have always found it a very effective way to ward off hysteria.'

'But I wasn't hysterical,' she cried indignantly.

'No, I stopped you in time.'

'Are you in the habit of kissing girls when they're overwrought?' she asked acidly.

'I do not often have the chance to enjoy that privilege.'

His flippancy wounded her. He was as usual, cool, derisive, but she herself was changed. As she had told him, he had transformed her from a child into a woman, but he seemed to be unaware of this momentous happening and she was consequently peeved.

'I... I'm a bit confused about what actually did happen,' she said haughtily, recalling vividly her reactions and what she had said. 'I was suffering from shock and, as you say, brandy. I'm not used to spirits. I'd be glad if you forget all about it.'

'As you intend to do?' Sven asked with an odd note in his voice.

'I can't forget what I don't remember.'

'Excellent logic,' he mocked. 'But I did discover something interesting ...'

'Oh, what?'

'That there is fire under your ice.'

'Then take care you don't get burned,' she snapped, and rang off. For a long while she stared at the silent instrument, trying to sort out her chaotic emotions. She had, she reflected, not behaved very well; he had made a pass at her, and she should have repulsed him with dignity, but she had told him she loved him, and he did not consider her confession worthy of remark. He attributed it to the brandy, and perhaps it was, for she could not have meant it. She could not be in love with this baffling, cynical man. Love was a soft and tender emotion, and there was no tenderness between her and Sven. But she was not indifferent; the mere memory of his caresses caused her stomach to churn. She recalled her miscellaneous reading, which was all she had to guide her. It was of course merely sex, that mysterious force which hitherto had had no meaning for her. She had never dreamed it could be so devastating.

To his great impatience, his entire household except Tessa conspired to keep Eliot quiet. He consented to stay in bed to satisfy them, but declared he would soon be around again. Unwilling to agitate him, Sonya dared not ask what it was he had to tell her regarding Sven, and he seemed to have forgotten it. It could wait, she decided, until she was sure he was really better, and if it were the news that Sven wanted to break their association, there would be some advantages. She was highly incensed by his flippant conversation over the phone, and it would not have hurt him to come round and enquire in person, unless he were unwilling to meet her again in the intimacy of her home. With her pride supporting her, she told herself she would be glad to see the back of Mr Sven Petersen. To further denigrate him in her thoughts, she decided that he must be a bit of a cad to have taken advantage of her bemused state, but wasn't that the villain's classical approach, according to her romantic reading, to make the girl tipsy, and when her defences were down, seduce her? Had Sven meant to carry out that programme when Tessa intervened? And then something deep within her revolted. He was not as bad as that, and she had led him on by her swift responses, she was too honest to deny that. How could she have been so immodest?

She had hoped to use her father's illness as an excuse not to go to the rink on the Monday. Feeling ashamed of herself, she wanted to postpone meeting Sven as long as possible, but Eliot insisted she must go, as he did not require her presence, and Matheson signalled to her not to thwart him.

Sven greeted her quite impersonally, enquired about her father and said they must get on if they were to be sufficiently polished for the Wembley Gala.

Somehow the rapport between them was non-existent that morning. Sonya could not concentrate and their steps lacked unison. Sven became impatient with her, but Jan said kindly:

'You are worried about your father and I think you are tired. We will do no more this morning.'

'I don't feel too good,' she admitted. 'I'll be better tomorrow.'

'So I should hope,' Sven remarked icily.

'Everyone has off days,' she said defensively.

'Professionals do not, that is the difference between them and amateurs.'

'But I'm not a professional,' Sonya cried, recalling that Sven was contemplating becoming one. She glanced at his slim, graceful figure in close-fitting black that was so much more muscular than it looked, and realised with dismay what a blank he would leave in her life.

'Ach, do not tease the child,' Jan expostulated. 'She always does her best.'

'If this morning is an example of her best, then it is a poor thing,' Sven declared acidly. 'Well, if we are not going: to work, this will be an opportunity to tell you what you are so anxious to know, since your father has not been well enough to discuss it.'

But Sonya's curiosity had expired, since she believed she knew what Sven was going to tell her, and she feared she might betray her feelings. She did not want Sven to know that she would regret him.

'There's no hurry, is there?' she prevaricated.

'I am tired of waiting. I want the future settled,' he told her, and her heart sank. 'Come, I will take you to the Zoo.'

She stared at him. 'Why the Zoo?'

'We have to go somewhere, and it is a pleasant place, the animals are amusing and there will be plenty of people about without being intrusive.'

So he did not want to be alone with her. She was about to say she did not want to go to the Zoo or anywhere else with him, but reflected she could not go home without upsetting her father, and she had nothing to do. She might as well hear what he had got to say and know the worst.

'Go and change,' he commanded her. 'We can get some lunch there.' Sonya recalled the meal at the inn; everything had been so different then, she had felt he might be a friend, but now he seemed almost an enemy.

As they went out, they met Thomasina coming in. Sven raised his brows. 'Another absentee,' he observed.

'What do you mean? I've finished a photographic session,' Thomasina said stiffly. 'Why aren't you working?'

'Sonya's off colour, she needs a break.'

'So it's not going so well,' Thomasina beamed with satisfaction. 'I never did think you two were simpatico. There's more to pair skating than matching steps.
There should also be harmony. You're antipathetic— it's noticeable.'

Sonya thought that at that moment they were.

Sven regarded the other girl lazily. 'You being an expert on the subject?' he enquired mildly.

'The looker-on sees most of the game. Sonya of course is jealous of your fame.' Sonya gasped; that had never occurred to her. 'I watched you practising the other morning when you didn't know I was there. You're ill-matched.'

Sven knew she was only voicing what she wanted to believe. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he asked silkily:

'What would you suggest would bring us more together? That I should sleep with Sonya?'

Sonya, to her intense annoyance, blushed fierily and Thomasina looked angry.

'Don't be absurd, I was trying to be helpful,' she said huffily. 'May I ask where you're going?'

Sven told her.

'The Zoo?' she exclaimed, astonished. 'Why on earth go there?'

'For a little relaxation,' Sven explained, 'of which Sonya is in need. I always find the antics of the orang-utans have a therapeutic value. They are such caricatures of human beings they promote a pleasant feeling of superiority.'

'I don't think I'll come after all,' said Sonya, feeling she could not cope with Sven in this mocking mood, and Thomasina interposed eagerly:

'If you really have a yen for apes and Sonya doesn't want to indulge you, I'm free for the rest of the day.' She looked at him expectantly.

'Greater love hath no woman than to endure the ape house to please her beloved,' Sven declared solemnly, still with the wicked glint in his eyes. 'I am sorry, Tom, but much as I appreciate your self-sacrifice, I must insist that Sonya accompany me. We have business to discuss.'

'At the Zoo?'

'Since I do not possess an office and to go to my flat would be too compromising, I have chosen the Zoo.'

'Canny man, the apes will be chaperones,' Thomasina laughed, amused by his caution. She glanced pityingly at Sonya. Much as she deplored her skating association with Sven, she was sure she was not a rival for his amorous interest. 'So long, enjoy your excursion,' she called as she went into the club.

'You cannot leave me high and dry after that,' Sven said to Sonya, 'and I really have something to discuss with you.'

'Oh, very well,' she returned ungraciously. 'It must be important if you've turned down the glamorous Tom for me.'

As he opened his car door for her, he asked:

'You believe I am having an affair with Tom, do you not?'

'I'm not interested,' she returned frigidly, as she slipped inside. She preferred his relationship with the blonde to remain obscure. If he denied it she would not believe him and if he admitted it, it would hurt. For the present she would have to go on skating with him, he could not let down the Gala, and it was better to ignore Thomasina. She tried to convince herself that she disliked him, hated his domineering attitude towards herself and Thomasina was welcome to him, but
she knew that he had a fascination for her which far outweighed his faults.

They passed through the turnstile and were met by the curious cries and noises of the various beasts and birds. Sonya's spirits rose; though she had shown no enthusiasm about visiting the Zoo, she was diverted and amused by what she saw.