Anne Mather (8 page)

'Hi, gorgeous!'

Amused at his rather old-fashioned.line of introduc- lion, Caroline smiled. 'What do you want?' she asked. Miss Morgan will be back any minute and you know she doesn't like you lingering in here any longer than is necessary.'

'Oh, but this is necessary,' replied Mark airily. 'Besides, the old dragon is closeted with Mr Willis, so she won't be back for quite some time. Now. . .what's this crazy story I hear about you having lunch with the boss man?'

Caroline shrugged. The story was gradually circulating round the whole building.

'That was last week,' she remarked coolly. 'It's quite old news now.'

'Maybe,' said Mark, raising his eyebrows. 'But it's still pretty hot stuff, isn't it? My, my, we are playing for high stakes. No wonder yours truly isn't even in the running.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Mark,' Caroline retorted, feeling angry now. It was one thing for people to gossip about what had actually taken place. It was quite another for them to speculate on what might happen in the future. She didn't like the idea of Adam's name being bandied about like that. It had never happened before and Mark's manner of speaking brought it home to her how enjoyable other people found this kind of tit-bit about an influential man.

'I don't think it is ridiculous,' replied Mark easily, a mocking smile on his face. 'After all, darling you're hardly in his class, are you? I mean, whatever there is between you two can only be thought the worst of, can't it? Even you can't imagine anything serious might come of it.'

'It was only lunch,' said Caroline, grateful that no one knew of the weekend affair.

'At the moment,' nodded Mark, thoughtfully light- ing a cigarette. 'But you know what it's like when you cast a stone into a still pond, the ripples spread, don't they?' He saw Caroline looking rather perturbed, and seizing his opportunity, he continued: 'Of course, you could squash the rumours.'

'How?' she asked eagerly, unaware of his thoughts.

'By going out with somebody else. After all, a girl who's already dating one boy doesn't bother with a man old enough to be her father.'

Suddenly what he was getting at came through to her. 'I suppose you mean I should go out with you?' she said with a sigh.

'Now that's a great idea,' he said, grinning. 'How about it?'

Hating him for his over-confident manner and boyish lack of imagination. Caroline hesitated. But Mark Davison was quite a talker himself and she could imagine him making the most of this if she refused. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, she capitulated.

'All right, then,' she said, forcing her voice to sound light and cheerful. 'When would you suggest?'

'How about this evening?' answered Mark eagerly. He was jubilant. He had never expected it to be this easy.

Caroline agreed. After all, she thought, tomorrow she might conceivably be seeing Adam. After Mark had gone she did not feel so keen. It was all very well going out with that big-headed creature to stop tongues from wagging, but what if Adam thought she was turning to someone else behind his back? Then she sighed. Why should she even believe that Adam might care? Her position was so uncertain at the moment.

By five o'clock she was regretting her decision, but she met him in the foyer as arranged and there was no backing out. They went to the cinema to see a biblical epic. The cinema was in the West End and Caroline quite enjoyed the unexpected treat. Although he had only tried to hold her hand in the cinema, Caroline was dreading going home with him in case he started to get fresh. It wasn't that she couldn't handle him. She simply did not want to offend him. He might spread more stories about herself and Adam.

Before going home they had supper in a Chinese restaurant and Caroline toyed disinterestedly with her chicken chop suey. She was not in the mood for conversation and Mark was a veritable chatterbox. He seemed satisfied with her short replies, however, and she hoped he thought she was enjoying herself.

Outside the restaurant Mark hailed a taxi, but Caroline protested.

'Really, I'm quite capable of getting the bus home,' she exclaimed. 'I don't mind going alone and it will be so late if you come with me.'

'I don't care,' replied Mark determinedly, and as a taxi drew to a halt he helped her in and climbed in after her.

She sat as far away from him as possible in the back seat and Mark, after one abortive attempt to put his arm round her, left her alone. The taxi stopped in Gloucester Court and Mark paid the driver as he climbed out. Caroline sighed wearily. He obviously intended making a prolonged goodnight.

When the taxi had gone she walked towards the steps leading into the flats.

'Well,' she said firmly, 'thank you for a lovely evening. Goodnight.'

'Wait a minute,' exclaimed Mark. 'You're not going in yet?'

'I'm afraid I am,' she replied, turning to face him. 'What's your idea?'

'Well, a kiss for a start,' said Mark, and pulled her forcefully towards him.

Caroline turned her face from side to side, avoiding his seeking lips, trying to release herself.

'Let me go,' she cried angrily. 'Just who do you think you are?'

'Relax,' he snapped, angry himself. He was not used to this reaction.

'I will not!' Caroline wrenched herself away. 'You must be crazy,' she said furiously. 'Men don't force their attentions on girls these days. You just haven't grown up, have you, Mark?'

'I guess you must prefer older men,' he retorted sarcastically. 'But sister, you're welcome to them. I wouldn't touch you again with a bargepole.'

'You wouldn't get the chance,' she exclaimed hotly.

'Why? Are you still angling for the great man himself? You've got some hopes! And when he hears you've been out with me he won't be so interested.'

Caroline clenched her fists and with a muffled sob, she turned and ran into the building.

The following day Caroline spent in expectation, waiting for a call from Adam. Every time the office telephone rang she longed to rush and answer it, but when someone else did and it was not Adam she was glad she had remained seated. She did not want to make an exhibition of herself.

At lunch time she ate very little and Ruth noticed this.

'What's wrong?' she asked. 'Are you sickening for something?'

Caroline smiled. 'Of course not. I'm not very hungry, that's all.'

Ruth shrugged. 'Your appetite certainly seems to have deteriorated of late,' she remarked. 'You're surely not slimming or anything ridiculous like that, are you?'

Caroline chuckled. 'No, I'm not slimming. I guess people have these spasms of not eating from time to time.'

'I wish I did,' wailed Ruth. 'My waistline is definitely thickening. I really will have to start slimming in earnest.'

'You're all right,' said Caroline, looking at her friend critically. 'It's probably getting very little exercise that has made you fatter. You'll have to get a bicycle and ride to work.'

'Some chance!' exclaimed Ruth, laughing. 'But we're getting away from you again. How did the date with Mark go down?'

'Don't mention it,' said Caroline, shivering. 'He's awful. However, he didn't get far with me.'

'He must be slipping,' remarked Ruth with a grimace. 'I know him of old. I used to go out with him when I first started here.'

'Did you really? He seems to date everyone.'

'At least,' said Ruth dryly, 'he has a name like mud.'

'You never told me that,' exclaimed Caroline, frowning.

'I thought you knew,' exclaimed Ruth. 'Good heavens, Caroline, surely you've heard the tales about Mark Davison? Some say one girl left because she was expecting his kid and he abandoned her. Anyway, she lost the kid and nearly died. That was ages ago, of course.'

Caroline felt nauseated. And this was the man she had gone out with to divert attention from Adam! What hornets' nest of trouble had she stirred up for herself?

'I'm going back to the office,' she said, standing up.

Ruth looked puzzled. 'Okay, Caroline. I'll be along in about five minutes.'

'Don't hurry,' replied Caroline, and walked swiftly away.

Adam did not telephone all afternoon and by evening Caroline felt dreadful. A fog had descended again when she got outside the building and she hoped Amanda would be out when she got home. She had told Amanda that Adam was coming home on Friday and she would be sure to ask questions.

For once fate seemed to be on her side and Amanda had left a note saying that she had had an invitation to a party and had accepted, seeing that Caroline would probably be tied up with Adam Steinbeck.

Caroline read the note and then tore it up and threw the pieces into the waste paper basket. Some hopes, she thought wryly, and trying to ignore the ache in her heart she took off her coat and walked into the bedroom.

Jim Mercer ground the stub of his cigarette into the floor of the VIP lounge with his heel and looked regretfully at Adam.

'Well,' he said with a grimace, 'that last announcement settles it, doesn't it?'

Adam thrust his hands deep into the pockets of the thick, fur-lined overcoat he was wearing and shrugged his broad shoulders impatiently. A cold airport was hardly his choice of an afternoon's entertainment and he was cold and angry.

'Yes,' he said abruptly, in reply to his personal assistant's statement. Then with a last draw on his own cigar he dropped it too and said: 'Do you realise we've been hanging about this place since six o'clock this morning? It's now two o'clock, that's eight hours, Jim.'

'Yes, sir, I know.'

'I wanted to be back in London today, do you realise that? Even if there was a flight now it would be tomorrow before we get there.'

'Yes, sir. But the met. office seems to think the fog won't lift for at least another six hours.'

'I know, I know. So they've booked us hotel accommodation. All right, Jim, I have ears, too, you know.'

'Yes, sir.' Jim felt uncomfortable. He had enjoyed this visit with Adam and had enjoyed visiting his mother in Boston. Most of all he had enjoyed meeting Adam's cousin, Virginia. She was only twenty-three and had obviously liked him too. Perhaps if he hadn't been enjoying himself so much they might have flown home yesterday and thus avoided this blasted fog. Who could tell what Adam was thinking? And anyway, why was he so keen to get back to England? He never had been before, and Jim had been all over the world with him.

Now Adam forced a wry smile and patted Jim on the shoulder.

'Come on,' he said. 'I guess I'm making a lot of fuss. Let's you and me find a bar and have ourselves a few pick-me-ups, hm?'

'That's a great idea,' said Jim with a grin, and they left the comparative luxury of the lounge for the public bar.

Later, as he relaxed in a hot bath before having dinner, Adam allowed himself to wonder what Caroline would be thinking. He could not ring her now. It was too late, and apart from that a call from New York could not be made without causing a lot of publicity at both ends. It was very unfortunate. Perhaps the fog was also stifling London and she would guess what had happened.

They eventually left New York late in the evening and arrived in London at nine-thirty in the morning, London time. Adam decided to drive straight to the office and clear up any necessary correspondence before the building closed for the weekend. He knew that Caroline worked alternate Saturday mornings and as she had not worked last week this should be her morning in. However, a brief call, before leaving the airport informed him that Caroline had not turned up that morning. Inwardly cursing, Adam returned his thoughts to business commitments and was silent in the chauffeur-driven Rolls which a cable had brought to the airport to meet them, and which drove Adam and Jim Mercer to the Steinbeck Building.

Laura Freeman was waiting in her office when he strode through the door of her domain. Mercer at his heels. She looked excessively pleased with herself, and so she should, she thought delightedly. She had always wanted Adam Steinbeck, to no avail, and when she found out that he had taken a junior typist to lunch she had been furious. And then, yesterday morning, she had met Mark Davison in the staff canteen and their conversation had cheered her up considerably. If Caroline Sinclair was going out with someone like Mark Davison, there could be nothing between her and Adam. Adam had always disliked Davison because of his over-clever manner, but being unable to find fault with his work he allowed him to remain on sufferance. If he just happened to hear about it, accidentally, as she intended he should, he might possibly be interested in finding someone else!

"Morning, Miss Freeman,' said Adam, crossing her office, removing his overcoat as he did so. Mercer made a grimace at Laura and she smiled in return. 'Bring in your notebook,' continued Adam, entering his own office and walking over to his desk. There was a pile of correspondence awaiting his perusal and before doing anything else he quickly flipped through the letters. He pinpointed some for his immediate attention and then flung the rest into an 'Incoming' basket and handed them to Jim.

'I think you can deal with these, Jim,' he said brusquely. 'Some this morning, the rest next week. Right?'

'Right, sir. Do you want me to stay?'

'No, you can get along. I'll see you on Sunday at the villa.'

'Yes, sir. Good morning.'

Jim withdrew as Laura came in and seated herself opposite Adam. Adam lit himself a cigar and studied the first letter with interest. Soon he was dictating briskly, and Laura was kept completely alert to stay with him.

In a lull between letters, Laura spoke: 'Did the fog delay you, sir?' she asked politely.

'Yes,' replied Adam shortly. 'Shall we get on?'

The next half-hour sped by and at last Adam called a halt. 'I think that will do,' he said, relaxing somewhat. 'Could you get me some coffee, Miss Freeman? I could do with some.'

'Of course.' Laura withdrew and returned ten minutes later with a tray.

Adam accepted the cup she handed to him, and then said:

'Anything special I should know? Did the grant come through for the Marsden deal?'

'Yes, sir. Mr Willis dealt with it directly.'

'Good, good. By the way, Miss Sinclair isn't in this morning. Do you know why? I believe this is her week to work Saturday morning.'

'Yes, it is,' agreed Laura, hardly daring to believe her luck. What a heaven-sent opportunity this was! 'Perhaps she's ill,' she suggested quietly. 'I know she was all right on Thursday night because she was out with Mark Davison. I was speaking to him yesterday in the canteen and he was telling me all about the film they'd seen.' There, she had said it!

If she had expected Adam to show some reaction she was disappointed. He merely shrugged and said: 'Perhaps the 'flu bug has bitten her. It's certainly been very cold.'

He finished his coffee and rose to his feet. 'Well, Miss Freeman, I'll leave you to get on. It's bed for me. I haven't seen one since Thursday night and I'm dead on my feet.'

Amanda came out of the bedroom wearing her new red coat.

'How do I look?' she asked of Caroline, who was lounging moodily in a chair, smoking a cigarette and leafing idly through a fashion magazine.

Caroline looked up. 'Fine,' she said, but there was no enthusiasm in her voice.

'Oh, do buck up,' exclaimed Amanda. 'It's Saturday night and here you are lounging about in those old jeans. Look, why don't you come with us? Bobby won't mind. He's divine, and besides, it's a party. There'll be heaps of boys.'

Bobby was Amanda's new boy-friend and tonight they were going to one of the interminable parties which Amanda seemed to enjoy. Caroline felt sure they would bore her to death and told Amanda so.

'You're getting quite morbid,' said Amanda angrily.

'No, I'm not,' said Caroline, sighing. 'I'm tired. I'm going to have a bath and then I'm going to bed.'

'Oh, well. I'm going,' said Amanda crossly. 'Have fun,' and she went out, slamming the door.

After she had gone, Caroline flung the magazine across the room with an angry exclamation. Why, oh, why didn't Adam get in touch with her? Why didn't he let her know what was going on?

She stood up and walked restlessly round the room. She felt so fed-up and miserable. If only he would come!

At eight o'clock she decided to wash her hair and have her bath and as everyone else seemed to be either out or engrossed with their television sets she had plenty of time to take it slowly.

The bathroom was on a lower floor than their flat and it was nearly nine o'clock when she returned to their rooms wrapped in her quilted housecoat, over her nightdress. She put on the kettle to make some coffee and then curled up on the couch in front of the electric fire to dry her hair. Her hair was still damp and clinging to her cheeks in tendrils when there was a knock at the door of the flat.

Trembling slightly and her heart pounding, Caroline crossed the room.

'Who is it?' she asked without unlocking the door.

'Steinbeck,' came the deep voice she had been longing to hear.

'Adam!' she exclaimed, and flung open the door, stepping back to allow him to enter. He looked bigger and broader and more attractive than ever in his thick overcoat and dark suit. For a moment she just allowed herself the pleasure of looking at him; she had been needing this so much.

Then she closed the door and leaned back against it. Whether she had expected him to take her in his arms, she wasn't sure, but she was not at all prepared for his solemn expression and the slight trace of mockery behind his eyes.

'Hello, Caroline,' he said, nodding, his eyes never leaving her face.

Feeling conscious suddenly of her dishevelled appearance, she said:

'I'll go and get dressed,' but before she could move his fingers curved round her wrist.