Part 3 (1/2)

'Don't tempt providence! Let's pretend we didn't want any!'

He laughed, meeting my eyes for the first time. 'That's what I loved about you, your gifts of kindness and laughter.'

'I wasn't kind to you.'

'Did I deserve that you should have been? I ruined you. It was no thanks to me that you married well afterwards.'

'I hurt you. I've always regretted saying what I did.'

'It was the truth. Truth often hurts. I admit I didn't get much joy out of s.e.x after that, remembering...'

I opened my handbag and sought for my handkerchief. 'It wasn't true,' I said, blowing my nose, 'I was just being catty.'

'It was the truth. You looked me straight in the eye when you said it. If you have to lie, you always turn away and mumble-just as you are doing now, to save my feelings. Besides, Amy has always agreed with you.'

I wanted to say that I wouldn't mind hopping into bed with him that very moment, but I wasn't sure he would wish to do so.

'Johnny!' he said, reminding himself of the purpose of this interview. He'd obviously rehea.r.s.ed what he wanted to say, and was going to get it out, come what may. 'I'd like to meet him, if you don't object. I could fly over at Christmas time for a few days, or if he'd like to visit England, maybe I can find somewhere decent to live before then...'

'You really are going to sell your home?'

'It's the price I have to pay for a divorce. I can't keep White Wings and pay Amy half its value.'

'Not because of me, surely?'

'Yes.'

'One look in a mirror?'

'One look was enough before, wasn't it? I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, but it was too late. Three months too late. Then you disappeared...perhaps you were wise because I'd have pursued you otherwise; once Piers was born Amy had little use for me in bed. But there was the Works, and my son, and later on there was White Wings; there was no point in breaking with Amy while your husband was alive, although I've had enough evidence to divorce her for nearly five years. She's got a lover-a hair-stylist here in town. She does not wish to use him as a replacement for me, you understand; he is an extra. I suppose I ought to have objected more strongly when she took him on, but there have been so many arguments...disagreements about things I felt strongly about. The fault was mine, in that I did not care sufficiently one way or the other.'

'But she does not wish to lose you.'

'It takes two...! She cannot keep me. As for Piers, I said they would make him a director of the Mills on his eighteenth birthday over my dead body, and they have done so. He is not ready for it yet, but...he will not listen to me any longer. Also he inherits a large sum from a trust fund set up by his grandfather today, and he doesn't even need to draw on me for money any longer. I'm as free now as I'll ever be. Not free of guilt, of course, or remorse...and as you know, I'm not much good to a woman in bed. Crippled, but free, as you might say.'

'You mustn't destroy yourself. There's your position at the Mills...'

'Yes and no. If they sack me, I'll get compensation; but I don't think they will sack me because they will find it difficult to get a replacement who is capable of doing the job so well. I'm young enough to start again somewhere else, and I'm told my talents are rated high on the labour market. I shan't be able to afford another White Wings for some time, but I'll build another house somewhere, and it will become as dear.'

'You mean you've thought it all out and that nothing I say or do will influence you?'

'I wouldn't say that. A man doesn't often get a second chance at happiness. If you are not already committed, then I shall do my best to win you.'

'You mean you want to climb into bed with me again?'

'I mean marriage, if you'll have me, knowing that I'm a poor bargain. Don't flirt with me, Kit. You knew I meant to try when you saw me in the mirror last night. You gave yourself away. Admit it!'

'Just unfinished business. Then why not hop into bed with me and get it out of your system?'

'That was an offer!' remarked Edward the business man.

He took my chin in his fingers and forced me to look up at him. I could feel my face redden. He released me, opened the lid of the coffee-pot, emptied half the contents of the cups back in, helped us both to milk and sugar, and handed me my cup. He had recovered his nerve.

'Jumping into bed with you would be all right for today,' he said, 'but what about tomorrow and the day after? I want exclusive rights. I want all my dreams come true, in and out of bed.'

I sipped at my coffee and set it down. It was cold. I pulled the sugar basin towards me and started playing with the spoon. He took it off me, and possessed himself of my hands.

'Well, Kit?'

I pulled one of my hands free, and ran it over the gold bracelet of his watch. I unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt cuff, inserted my fingers between the fine cotton and the smooth skin on the inside of his arm...and curving my fingers, I drew my nails lightly, over it. He drew in his breath. He lowered his head. He couldn't move, and he didn't know where to look.

Satisfied, I reb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt, smoothed down the fine cloth of his sleeve, and put my hand over his.

'It seems to me that you have everything that a woman might want,' I said. 'I'll marry you the moment you're free.'

'More coffee, sir?' asked the waiter.

I was uneasily happy. When the waiter interrupted us, Edward recalled that he had an important meeting at three o'clock, and we walked out together to his car. I had so much to tell him, about Johnny, and the attack on me, and Pat...then there was the promise I'd made Con, and the problem of Jack to be dealt with. Which should I speak of first, and when? Edward had said that much to his distress he could not see me again that day. He had promised Amy he would attend Piers' party at White Wings that night, and he felt he ought to go.

He held my arm tightly. Everyone could see we were in love. Happiness had loosened his tongue, and he laughed aloud.

'Do you realise this is the first time I've gone anywhere in public with you? Just walking across the square like this...I can hardly believe I'm awake. I've day-dreamed so many years, made so many plans for leaving Amy and put them off for another couple of months because there was Piers to be considered, and I was putting in a sprinkler system in the gardens, and there were the boys at the Club; I didn't want to let them down, and besides, I've grown very fond of one of them. You won't mind if I continue to go down there now and then, will you? And there's my dog. Crisp is his name. Not a suitable name for a dog, but Piers called him that. I've had to leave him with the gardener for the moment. He doesn't think much of women usually. To think I hesitated to leave Amy because you might not take to Crisp, or he to you! To think I might have gone on day-dreaming and doing nothing about it if I hadn't seen you...I did plan to go to New York when I heard about your husband's death, but then I wasn't sure you'd want to see me...'

For a moment I found it difficult to breathe. Con had spoken the truth. Edward would not have left Amy and thrown up his job, his son and his beloved home if I hadn't nudged him into action.

I couldn't go through with it. We had confused s.e.x and love, that was all. For a half-hour of purple pa.s.sion, Edward was prepared to throw away everything he valued. He had moved away from reality into his land of day-dreams, and it was up to me to rescue him.

He checked his watch, swinging me round to face him, delighting in the exercise of his superior strength. Then he saw my face and released me. His eyelids contracted. He knew he was about to get hurt.

'I was just thinking,' I lied, picking a bit of fluff from his jacket, 'how much I'm looking forward to showing you off to all my New York friends.' It would do no good to tell him that I didn't love him. I would have to strike more subtly, at his pride. 'I know what they'll say, that you attract women with money! After all, it must help to know that by leaving Amy you won't be any worse off, financially. You'll just love my little apartment in New York, although it isn't usually a good idea to have pets in a flat, as I'm sure you know. Besides, they mess the place up with their hairs and their feeding bowls. You could have Pat's study, and after a while I'll find you a post in one of the companies he used to own-I'm sure they'll find something for you if I ask nicely, though of course it wouldn't be anything like your present job...but then, I'd have you all to myself, all the time...no need for you to work anymore when you're my husband...'

'New York?' He took my hand and tried to make me face him, but I dived into my handbag for my compact and started to powder my nose.

'Why, of course. You don't really expect me to settle down here, in this crummy old place which doesn't even have a decent dress shop!' I managed a light laugh. 'Don't be ridiculous, my sweet! I'm used to a certain standard of living. No housework, for a start. Maids, and a chauffeur, and my own bathroom. That's an absolute minimum. I've got plenty of money, but I'm not laying it out to buy an inferior house in this neck of the woods.'

I didn't dare look at him. I frowned, turning on my heel to look round the Square. I felt like an executioner.

'It's not going to work, is it?' I said, addressing the sky. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shake his head. 'We were stupid to think it would work, Edward. There's too much against it. We're both too set in our ways to change, and although your offer was very flattering, I'm glad we didn't get any further than having a cup of coffee together. Give Con a cheque for Johnny's money, and he will pa.s.s it on. Off you go to your meeting!'

He didn't move. I conquered an impulse to throw my arms round him and turned away, leaving him standing beside his car. I walked back to the hotel. On the steps I turned to wave goodbye. He was still standing there, looking at the spot where I'd been. I went in.

The receptionist gave me some letters and I asked him to book me a room at the Dorchester for that night. I said I'd been called back to New York unexpectedly, and would they please prepare my bill, and have some brandy sent up to my room.

My bedroom window overlooked the Square. Edward and his car had gone.

I had torn him to pieces all right, but I'd done the same thing to myself. I kept saying, out loud, as if to convince myself, that I had done the right thing, and that Edward would go back to Amy and Piers and his dog and White Wings and everything would be just the same for him as before. I argued that he would be happier in the future because I had destroyed his daydream.