Daughter of Riches (19 page)

It was a hot summer evening and by the time he reached the farmhouse Nicky had had to remove his jacket. But when Vivienne's mother opened the door to him he saw her look of faint surprise and when she led him through to the extensive garden he realised the reason for it. In a suit he was hopelessly overdressed. All the young people were in shorts or even swim wear as they laughed and romped around a large swimming pool.

Vivienne, looking lovelier than ever in an emerald green halter-top and matching shorts, greeted him. ‘Oh darling, didn't you realise it was a pool party?'

Suddenly Nicky was angry. He could not possibly go all the way home to change and she knew it. She had succeeded in making a complete fool of him. But he had no intention of giving her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

‘Never mind, it's our date isn't it?' he said, taking her hand in a grip of iron and putting it through his arm. ‘You'd better introduce me to your friends, hadn't you?'

He saw her green eyes flash and expected fireworks. But he went on smiling at her, a hard fixed smile, and holding her hand in his arm so that to all her friends by the swimming pool it appeared that she was greeting him with pleasure and a certain amount of intimacy, and after a moment she threw back her head and laughed.

‘You're quite a guy, aren't you, Nicky Carteret? All right, come and meet the others. And who knows, I might be able to persuade my brother to lend you a pair of swimming trunks.'

‘Don't do me any favours,' Nicky said coldly.

‘Mm.' Her eyes ran teasingly over his broad shoulders and the ripple of muscles that was clearly visible beneath the slightly damp shirt. ‘Oh no, I think it's
me
I'd be doing a favour. I'm sure you'd look very good in swimming trunks or even better … well, you never know, we might just do some skinny-dipping later on …'

The meaning behind her words was obvious, her appreciative look intoxicating. But Nicky was determined not to drop his guard so easily. He wanted Miss Vivienne Moran, yes – but he wanted her in
his
time and at
his
instigation, not hers.

An hour or so later, however, when he thought he had made his point and when some of the others were beginning to complain that it was not really very warm in the pool now that the sun had gone down, he accepted Douglas Moran's offer of the loan of a pair of trunks, executed a perfect swallow dive from the spring board and swam a few lengths. Some of the boys, understandably annoyed that his beautiful effortless crawl put their clumsy splashing to shame, gave him black looks and turned their backs, but more than one of the girls watched with admiration in her eyes and a heart that was beating a little faster, and Vivienne's smile turned to one of satisfaction.

Much later, when the garden beyond range of the gaily-coloured lanterns was quite dark, she did not protest when he pulled her into the shadows. All evening she had been longing to discover how it would feel to be kissed by that hard full mouth – and she was not disappointed. Nicky Carteret might not be rich, he might not know what was ‘ u' and ‘non-u', as Nancy Mitford had so neatly put it, but oh! he was deliriously sexy, every inch a
real man!

Over the next few weeks Nicky saw a good deal of Vivienne. Before long, in spite of his unpromising start, he was accepted into her circle and to his relief he discovered it did not involve spending a lot of money. Mostly the entertainment – and the refreshments – were provided by indulgent parents. But Nicky thought that the best times were had when they were enjoying the pleasures that came free – the beach parties and the ‘ghost hunts' when they trekked across the causeway at low tide to Elizabeth Castle or clambered around the rocks beneath the forbidding Hermitage where St Helier, for whom the town had been named, was said to have been murdered by pirates in the sixth century. Nicky learned to speak as they spoke, to adopt their lazy, laid-back attitude to life, to ride a fast motor cycle around the shady curving lanes and to pull a champagne cork without losing half the bottle in a foaming fountain – unless of course that was the intention. But he also learned things that made all the rest pale into insignificance. With Vivienne to egg him on and point him in the right direction, Nicky also learned to make love.

For a girl of barely twenty in the year of 1939 Vivienne was surprisingly knowledgeable. She had begun her education very young when she had discovered a paper-covered handbook on the ‘ intimate side of marriage' in her mother's dressing-table drawer and she had been fascinated by eroticism and the gentle arts of seduction ever since, never missing an opportunity to add to her store of information. She had spent a good deal of time practising sultry looks and provocative poses (which she copied from her collection of film star pin-ups) and much enjoyed trying them out on the boys she met. She had lost her virginity long ago and somewhat disappointingly to a friend of her brother's, but since then she had discovered the power and enjoyment to be had from promising a great deal and delivering almost nothing.

Nicky, on the other hand, was virtually inexperienced – but he had not the slightest intention of letting Vivienne know it. When she tried to initiate petting he was quick to take over, working partly on instinct and partly by turning her own tactics to his advantage, with the result that Vivienne only wanted him more. For the first time in her life she had met a man she could not control and manipulate – and he fascinated her.

‘Shall I tell you something, Nicky?' she said to him one afternoon towards the end of August.

They were lying beside the swimming pool, all alone for once. Viv's father, as usual, was in London for the week, her mother and brother were out and none of ‘the crowd' had been invited to join them. Viv was lying on a sunbed, shaded by a brightly coloured umbrella because her fair skin freckled and burned if she was not careful. One hand trailed over the edge in a careless pose. She looked lovelier than ever, Nicky thought, and he wondered if he could make love to her here without anyone seeing.

‘Tell me what?' he asked lazily.

‘Oh – I can't shout. You'll have to come here.'

‘If I do will you make it worth my while?'

‘Definitely.'

It was one of the games they played with one another, cat and mouse. Nicky felt the rush of desire making his shorts uncomfortably tight and quickly before she could notice and perhaps use the knowledge to her own advantage he rolled off his own sunbed, grabbed her trailing arm and pulled her down on top of him.

‘Nicky!' she protested, but he held her fast, the sun-warmed patio stones hot beneath his bare back, the delicious softness of her body moulding to the hardness of his.

‘Now – tell me!'

‘No! You're a bully!'

‘And you love every moment of it.'

He forced her face down to his, holding the back of her neck with one hand and untying the bow of her halter top with the other. She squirmed with pleasure, parting her legs a little to accommodate him and loving the feel of his downy-haired chest against her now-bared nipples. His hands moved to the waist of her shorts, easing them down over her hips so that she lay there on top of him naked, desire for him driving her wild. How could he
do
this to her, she who had always initiated the action, teased the boys and then held back.

‘Nicky …' She moved against him and the movement only twisted her desire another notch higher. ‘ Please …' she groaned, trying to loosen the tie waist of his shorts without relinquishing the body contact for even a moment.

‘Ah-hah! Not until you tell me!' He was sweating with desire himself, the pressure of her upon his body was almost more than flesh and blood could stand. But with Viv it was vital to keep the upper hand. He eased his fingers between her buttocks and felt her arching towards him, her desire almost at screaming pitch. ‘Tell me – tell me!'

‘All right,' she sobbed, ‘ but you don't deserve it.'

‘Don't deserve what?'

She nuzzled her face into his neck, her tongue found his ear and curved inside, slowly circling before withdrawing to nibble the lobe and whisper: ‘ I think I'm in love with you.'

‘What?' He was so surprised he held her away for a moment and she sobbed again.

‘Horrible beast! You promised … you promised to do it to me if I told you. I think I'm in love with you! Isn't that good enough for you?'

Shock turned to joy. She loved him, this goddess who played with the emotions of other men! Suddenly he was not just playing at being in control, he
was
in control. He was king of all he surveyed; he could take what he wanted – and he wanted Viv.

With a swift movement he lifted her bodily so that it was she who was lying on the sunwarmed patio and rolled on top of her, pulling down his shorts as he did so. She was moist and open and he thrust into her again and again. Soon, very soon, it was over. Their bodies trembled and clung, moist and heaving for a few moments more, then Nicky sat up abruptly pulling up his shorts.

‘Nicky – don't leave me!' she wheedled.

He looked down at her, lying there naked. ‘ Hadn't you better put some clothes on? Someone might come.'

‘I don't care! Don't leave me, please!'

‘I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere.'

‘I don't mean just now. I mean … if there's a war … I don't want you to go away and leave me. But then …', silkily, cat-like almost, ‘you might not be able to anyway.'

He felt a stirring of alarm. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Oh Nicky, don't be so dense! We just went all the way, didn't we? I could be going to have a baby. And if I was Daddy would kill you if you went away and left me.'

The alarm escalated to panic as Nicky felt the tentacles of the age-old trap closing in on him.

‘You're not pregnant.'

‘I might be.'

Her beautiful body, gleaming in the sun, did not stir him now. He felt nothing but a flash of that same anger that had assailed him on the night it had all begun – the night of her party. She had thought she could manipulate him then and she thought she could manipulate him now. Well, he'd see about that.

‘For goodness' sake, Viv, cover yourself up!' He reached for her towel, lying on the sunbed, and tossed it down across her. ‘If there's a war I shall have to go. There won't be any choice.'

‘There won't be a war.' She was almost in tears. He had never seen her this way before.

He tied his shorts and sat down beside her, relenting a little.

‘I'll tell you what, Viv. If I promise to come back to you will you promise to wait for me?'

‘Oh Nicky, you know I will!'

‘Well you had better.' He kissed her again and as they clung together with less urgency but a great deal more tenderness neither of them had any real notion of the horror that they were dismissing so lightly.

On the evening of September 5th, 1939, Sophia walked down to the harbour. The darkness there was complete – no sprinkling of starry lights now from the buoys that bobbed on the inky water, no comforting blink from the lighthouse – and the only sound was the lap of the waves as the stiff breeze drove them against the pier and the seawall. How different it was to the scene this morning when the harbour had been a hive of activity!

It had begun at first light – crowds of people gathering to queue for a boat – holidaymakers, anxious to return home now that war had actually been declared, French reservists responding to their
ordres d'appel
and young Jerseymen who were volunteering to fight for King and country.

Nicky had been amongst them. He had been one of the first in the queue at the recruiting office and they had wasted no time in posting him to a regiment. The whole family had gone down to the pier to see him off and there they had been joined by Vivienne Moran – ‘ Nicky's girlfriend!' Catherine whispered excitedly to Sophia.

Though she scarcely knew her, Sophia did not like Vivienne much and she knew that Lola did not approve of her either. She was too sure of herself by half, a bit of a show-off and probably spoiled into the bargain. But Sophia had felt sorry for her this morning standing all alone as she watched the ship sail away. Her chin was held high but Sophia knew she would be wondering when, or even if, she would ever see him again and she could identify all too well with what Viv must be feeling.

I felt that way when Dieter left, Sophia thought, and the emptiness in her yawned and spread as the memory of his departure was refreshed. But at least then she had truly believed he was sad about leaving her too. Now she was no longer certain of anything. Even worse, England and Germany were at war. She and Dieter were on opposing sides. For all she knew he, like Nicky, was joining the armed forces – two one-time friends preparing to fight one another.

Sophia stared out over the dark water. Her face was wet and salty. Sophia was not sure whether the wetness was seaspray or tears.

Vivienne swung her legs down from the examination couch in Dr Bodell's consulting room and smoothed her skirt with apparent insouciance.

‘Well?'

The doctor turned from the small hand basin, drying his hands on a clean towel, and his stern expression made her heart sink. All very well to have thrown caution to the winds in the heat of passion, all very well to have imagined that getting pregnant was a very daring, very avant-garde thing to do. The reality, in the cold light of day, was quite different. With Nicky away, God alone knew where, it was decidedly scary and for the first time in her life Viv had lain awake night after night worrying just what she had got herself into. It was also embarrassing, since Francis Bodell was a friend of her father's.

‘Well, Vivienne, I think you already know what I am going to tell you. You are pregnant – about three months, I should say.'