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'I'll take my chance.'
'Oh, John!' Caroline's fingers were gripping the receiver so tightly that it
hurt. 'Oh - all right. What time do you want me to meet you?'
He was silent for another pregnant moment, and then he said softly: 'Are you
mad at me?'
She sighed. 'What do you think?'
He sounded amused. 'I'm sorry. But there was no other way, was there?' He
paused. 'Can you get down to the village? Or shall I fetch you?'
'No, I'll walk,' she answered firmly. 'Just tell me what time.'
'Well, let's say - seven o'clock, hmm? That will give us plenty of time to
have a drink before dinner.'
Caroline hunched her shoulders. 'But not in Fenbourne.'
'Wherever you say. I'll look out for you at seven.'
'All right.'
Caroline replaced the receiver with a heavy heart. She was not at all
convinced she was doing the right thing, but what else could she do? If she
went to Deborah and told her the whole story, she would shed the burden,
but not the responsibility. She had promised Laura to help her, and that did
not entail causing more trouble between the girl and her parents. She had
been hoping that the whole affair would eventually die a natural death, and
John Mooney's attitude had encouraged that belief. What she had not
bargained for was his transference of his attentions to her, or the
complications that would bring. She was already in a nebulous position.
Since the Irishman's visit to the house, both James and Laura were prepared
to think that she had invited him, and this new complication would simply
strengthen that belief. Somehow she had to convince John Mooney that he
was wasting his time bothering with either her or Laura.
She had turned away from the phone, and was walking disconsolately
towards the stairs, tugging the towel from her damp hair, when she realized
that someone was watching her from the doorway to the library. It had to be
James, she thought bitterly, her sense of guilt erupting into anger.
'Do you make a habit of listening to my conversations?' she demanded
furiously, aware that she was venting her frustration on him. 'Is there no
privacy in this house?'
James straightened from his indolent position against the door frame, his
face revealing none of his real feelings. 'I'm sorry,' he said politely. 'But
when I heard Laura's parents mentioned, curiosity got the better of me.
Caroline twisted the towel between her fingers, her anger dispersing as
quickly as it had come. 'You'll have gathered that it was John Mooney,
then?'
A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but quickly disappeared. 'If you say
so.'
Caroline halted, looking across at him, supremely conscious of the picture
she must present in shabby jeans and a sleeveless shirt, her hair a damp
weight about her shoulders. James on the other hand, was still dressed for
the-city, only the unfastened top button of his shirt, and his slightly loosened
tie indicative that he was home for the day.
'Why do you think he was ringing me?' she asked at last.
James shrugged. 'I ^gathered he was making some arrangement with you.
For this evening?'
He was coolly controlled, and Caroline could feel something inside her
being squeezed, tightly. Holding up her head, she said: 'That's right, he was.
Do you have any objection?'
James took a deep breath, and for a moment she thought he was going to
denounce her, and then he pulled down his tie and turned away. 'Not at all,'
he replied quietly. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.'
As he went back into the library and closed the door, Caroline had to steel
herself not to rush after him and tell him what was happening. Perhaps he
was the one person who might be prepared to help her. But for what
purpose? And if he believed her, what interpretation would he put on her
confiding in him? She dared not encourage him to believe that she still cared
what he thought about her. Since that disturbing scene in the cemetery, too
many similar scenes had returned to haunt her, and only by keeping out of
his way could she hope to retain her self-respect.
As it happened, Caroline found no difficulty in reaching the village in time
to meet John. When she came downstairs at about a quarter to seven, Groom
was standing in the hall, and her initial anxiety that he was possibly waiting
to take the family to the Frobishers' gave way tinder the realization that
James would be driving himself.
'Going out, miss?' the chauffeur inquired politely, and Caroline nodded.
'Why, yes.'
'Can I give you a lift, then?' he suggested. 'I'm on my way to my sister's at
Reading. If it's the village you're heading for, it's on my way.'
Caroline glanced about her. '.Were you waiting for me?' she exclaimed
curiously.
Groom put on his peaked cap. 'No, miss,' he denied, but she was not
convinced. 'Shall we go?'
Groom dropped her at the Coach and Horses, and climbing out of the sleek
limousine Caroline saw the Irishman waiting across the -street. Pressing her
lips tightly together, she closed the car door, raising a hand in salute to
Groom as he drove away. She had no doubt now that James had arranged for
the chauffeur to take her to the village, and his concern for her safety was
just another pain she would have to live with.
John Mooney came strolling across the road towards her, his smile not
without a certain smugness. 'Well, aren't you an unusual girl? Early and all!'
Caroline looked irritably at him. 'I got a lift, as you saw.
'Ah, I did that. A beautiful vehicle, wouldn't you say?'
'Oh, stop talking like that!' Caroline was in no mood for flippancy. 'Where
are we eating?'
John surveyed her appearance appreciatively. In a brushed denim jeans suit,
her hair secured in two bunches with elastic bands, she looked about
eighteen, and he was not immune to her attractions.
'I've booked a table at the Phoenix - in Reading,' he told her, as they walked
back across the road to where his motor-cycle was waiting. 'Are you
hungry?'
'No. I just want to get this over with!' retorted Caroline, taking the helmet he
offered her and securing it on her head. 'I'm ready.'
The Phoenix was a newly opened eating house near the city centre.
Watching its clientele making their way inside as John parked the bike and
stowed the helmets, Caroline realized that she was hardly dressed for such a
place. But still, if he didn't like the way she looked, she didn't much care, and
he at least was personable in his light grey lounge suit.
However, John was obviously approving of her appearance, and once they
were inside and seated in the discreetly lighted bar, no one took the slightest [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]