Dishonored (11 page)

“Good, I’ll see you then.”

“Yes, see you then. Goodbye, Phillip.” Jane glanced over at Clare who had sneaked back into the room. “He’ll pick me up at
seven in a cab,” she said, banging the receiver down. “He’s been offered some sort of promotion and wanted someone to celebrate
with.”

“And he rang you!” Clare clasped her hand to her breast. “He wanted to celebrate with you, Jane! Oh, I can hardly believe
it…”

“Well don’t then!” Jane snapped. She stomped off toward the door and turned, scowling over her shoulder at Clare. “He wanted
to celebrate, Clare, that’s all! And I would imagine that at four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, he couldn’t find anyone
else mug enough to be free!”

It was still only very early spring and the night air was chilly. As Jane and Phillip left the Savoy Hotel to wait for a taxi,
Jane pulled her coat in a little tighter around the dress that Clare had lent her and shivered.

“Are you all right, Jane? Would you like to sit inside and I’ll call you when the taxi arrives?”

Jane smiled. “No, thanks, Phillip, but I’m fine.” He placed his hand on her elbow as they moved forward down the steps of
the hotel toward the doorman.

‘Taxi, sir?”

“Yes please.”

They stood for a few moments in silence.

“You two off as well!”

Both Jane and Phillip turned as an old friend of Jane’s father’s came down the steps toward them, his arm around his wife.
They had met Colonel and Mrs. Graves in the Savoy Grill.

“Yes, yes we are, Monty!” Jane said.

“Good meal?”

“Superb.”

“Excellent, excellent!” He laughed heartily and his wife rolled her eyes at Jane. “Come on, dear,” she said, tutting. “We’ve
interrupted quite enough of Jane and Major Mills’ evening already.”

“Nonsense, nonsense!”

Jane laughed as Monty’s wife cuffed him on the arm then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Good to see you looking so well,
Jane dear. We’re off! Come on, Monty!” she called over to her husband who had struck up another conversation with Phillip.
“We’re walking back; hopefully the air will sober you up a bit!”

Monty laughed again and shook hands with Phillip. “Love, honor and obey!” he said jovially. “We seem to have got it the wrong
way round!” He kissed Jane. “Good night, Jane dear. Send our good wishes to your parents!”

“I will, Monty, thanks! Good night, Sybil!” Jane called. The colonel’s wife waved as Monty joined her and they linked arms,
walking off down toward the Strand.

“What a nice couple!” Phillip faced Jane and turned the collar of her overcoat up. “Old friends of the family?”

“Yes.” Jane blushed as he continued to hold the lapels of her coat. “I enjoyed meeting them,” he said.

“Good.”

He meant it but Jane didn’t really believe him. For Phillip, eating at the high profile Savoy Grill, a restaurant that was
way out of bounds when he was with Suzanna, and being able to meet people without worrying about who would say what, was a
refreshing change. “I enjoyed tonight,” he said. “Thank you.”

Jane looked up at him. “So did I,” she answered, surprised even now that she had. Phillip was good company and if she had
been second, or even third choice for tonight, she hadn’t felt it.

“Can I see you again?”

Jane looked away. Phillip was very attractive but she was getting past wasting time on flings or friendships that didn’t lead
anywhere.

“We could go to the British Museum,” Phillip added. “I could show you some of the pieces my family have donated.”

“Give you the chance to show off you mean!”

Phillip laughed. “Yes, all right. Please come out with me and let me brag to you all afternoon about how important my family
were in India!”

“Oh, go on then!” Jane laughed as well. “As it’s half-term this week and I’ve nothing else to do!” Besides, she thought, what
was another friendship to add to her long list? At least she wouldn’t be under any illusions with Phillip; a friendship was
all it would ever be, a man like him would never see anything in her. “Thank you, I’d love to come,” she said more seriously.

“Tuesday?”

“Yes, Tuesday. I can come up for the day.” A black cab pulled up at that moment and the doorman opened the door for Jane.
“Kensington, Queen’s Gate and then Chelsea,” Phillip said to the driver.

Jane turned around. “Oh, don’t bother to come all the way over to Kensington, Phillip! Please, I can see myself home, honestly!”
She smiled. “Get another cab and go straight home.”

He hesitated, not knowing what to do. “Are you sure?” It was very sensible but few women would have suggested it.

“Of course I’m sure!” Jane pulled the door shut and pressed the window down. “Good night, Phillip,” she said. “Thank you for
a lovely evening.”

He stepped back, making no attempt to kiss her and smiled. “Good night, Jane. It was a pleasure.” And tapping the roof of
the cab with his fist, he watched as it pulled off and Jane settled down into the seat, waving briefly as she disappeared
from view.

T
HE SECOND FLOOR OF
S
ELFRIDGES WAS PACKED, IT WAS A
S
ATURDAY
afternoon and the ladies’ fashion department was doing brisk business. As Jane followed Clare up the staircase toward
the throng of shoppers, she felt a pang of misgiving and wondered for the umpteenth time that day why on earth she had let
Clare talk her into this. It was her birthday and the last thing she wanted to do was fight her way through a department store
looking for a dress that Clare considered suitable for her date. She sighed heavily as Clare turned to her and said irritably,
“Come on, Janey! Anyone would think that you weren’t in the slightest bit interested in doing this!”

But she knew Clare had her best interests at heart, it was her and Teddy’s present to her, so she smiled and replied, “Sorry,
but I’m not as young as I used to be!”

“Ha ha!” Clare shook her head. “You shouldn’t keep mentioning your age, Jane! And certainly don’t mention it to Phillip tonight!”

Jane burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Clare demanded, hands on her hips.

“Oh, Clare, you are!” Jane stopped laughing and curbed her smile; Clare’s face was like thunder. “You surely don’t think that
Phillip doesn’t know how old I am?!”

“Well, I erm… I just thought it might, erm…”

Jane smiled. “Might put him off, he? If he knows I’m an old spinster just dying to get married!”

“Don’t make fun of me, Jane.”

Jane climbed the three steps between them and kissed Clare on the cheek. “I’m not,” she said. Clare could be remarkably immature
for twenty-one but Jane still adored her. “Come on, let’s go and buy that dress you promised me for my birthday.”

“All right.” Clare linked her arm through Jane’s as they climbed up to the second floor. “Where shall we start?” she asked,
scanning the scene.

“You choose.”

“OK. How about over there?” She pointed to a part of the shop that had been done out like a boutique and a mannequin in a
black minidress. Jane swallowed back her automatic response; it was far from her idea of a nice dress but she let herself
be led over.

Clare began her search.

“So Phillip knows you’re twenty-seven today, does he?” she asked, rifling through a rack of minidresses like the one on display.
She pulled one out in purple and held it up for inspection.

“Yes he knows my age,” Jane answered, silently praying that Clare put the dress back. The last thing she wanted was to come
to blows over the first choice.

“Oh.” Clare did put the dress back. She moved on to the next rack. “I suppose if you’re really good friends it doesn’t matter.”
Clare glanced up. “Does it?”

“No, no it doesn’t.” Jane moved away and fiddled with a rail of skirts and matching tunics.

“Is that what it is then?”

Jane took a completely unsuitable miniskirt off the rail and held it up, avoiding the question. “Hmmmm?”

Clare walked over to her and shook her head. She swapped the skirt for a dress she had chosen and hung it in front of Jane’s
body. She looked at her sister. “Is it just friendship between you and Phillip?”

Jane sighed, removed the dress from Clare’s hands and stuffed it back on the rail.

“It’s just that you’ve seen an awful lot of each other in the past couple of weeks and I was wondering…”

“Clare!” Jane snapped, a little more abruptly than she’d meant to, and moved off toward another section.

“If it was more than that, if…” Clare hurried after Jane. “If it might be…”

“To be perfectly honest with you,” Jane said, swinging around to face her sister, “I really don’t know what it is!” And she
headed straight for the designer section, leaving Clare speechless behind her.

Jane walked through the rails of cashmere and silk, the beautifully cut suits and dresses, and ran her fingers every now and
then along the sleeve of a blouse or jacket, luxuriating in the fine quality of the fabric. She stopped, glanced at herself
in a full-length mirror and sighed heavily. What she’d just said to Clare was true, although she’d been avoiding thinking
about it for as long as she could. In all honesty she had no idea about her relationship with Phillip Mills. She had no idea
at all.

If she was frank with herself, she thought, picking up a coat and holding it in front of her, she didn’t really know what
she felt about Phillip, let alone what he felt about her. She had seen a lot of him, Clare was right, he was difficult to
refuse. But was it only a month since they’d met? It felt so much longer; it felt as if she’d known him forever.

Phillip was a type, Jane had decided, after only the second time they went out. He was typical public school and army, traditional,
rather set in his ways but he was fun, he was intelligent, witty and attentive and he was also extremely good-looking. Jane
put the coat back and swopped it for a jacket, but that didn’t suit her either. She stood and stared at her reflection, squinting
her eyes and peering at her face. He was definitely good-looking, she thought, a small flame of excitement flaring in the
pit of her stomach. If she was honest with herself he was the dishiest man she had ever been out with, he had everything,
he was as close to the mark as a man could get.

Jane put the jacket down and, still staring at her face, she unclipped her hair and let it fall down. Well, God knows what
he sees in me, she mused, tucking the long strands of brown behind her ear and making her already rather long angular features
look even longer and more angular. She shifted from one foot to the other. She was tall and slim, she had nice legs and a
good neat figure but no one could call her beautiful, or even pretty. She could possibly pass for attractive, she reckoned,
in candlelight with full makeup on, but she would never turn heads, not the way Phillip did whenever they were out together.

“It must be my personality,” she said to her face, but even as she said it she doubted it. She amused Phillip, she knew that,
they had friends in common and she did her best to entertain, but she always felt there was a part of him missing, like he
wasn’t really with her, and it puzzled her, because he was always the one to ask her out, he was the one so keen to continue
their friendship.

Jane finally moved away from the mirror. Was it a friendship? If it was it was pretty close. They hadn’t been to bed yet but
Jane had the feeling it was inevitable, that things were working their way toward it, as they so often did. Only this time
she really wanted it. She wasn’t “in love” with Phillip, or at least she didn’t think so, she wasn’t sure she knew what love
was, but she recognized her feelings, she knew she wanted him, was sure he would be a good lover. She could sense that, in
his glance, in the slightest touch of his hand, and she felt the familiar ache of excitement at the very thought of it.

“Janey! There you are!” Clare suddenly appeared behind an enormous rail of dresses and Jane blushed, feeling guilty about
her thoughts. “Look! Tadah!” She held up a black silk jersey dress with a high neck and a long flowing shape. Jane was impressed.
“I had to go through practically every rail in the shop,” she said, handing it across, “but there it was in the end, all alone,
just waiting for you!”

Jane laughed. “You are so melodramatic, Clare Latham!” She looked at the dress and checked the size. “It’s very nice. Shall
I try it on?”

“Yes, go on.” Clare glanced around the shop. “Over there!” she said, pointing to the fitting rooms. “I’ll come with you.”

Jane smiled. “It’s all right, I think I can manage. You wait here.”

“But you’ll want me to hold your hair up and advise on jewelry and…” She broke off and shrugged. “I’ll wait here,” she
finished.

“Right. See you in a minute then.”

Clare watched her sister go, holding the dress up and weaving her way through the other shoppers. Clare didn’t really understand
Jane, she wasn’t like any of her girlfriends, or even their mother for that matter, but Clare did like her sister, she liked
her very much indeed. In fact, she thought, as Jane came out of the fitting room wearing the dress and looking really quite
nice, she didn’t know anyone who didn’t like Jane, it was really impossible not to.

Across the other side of town, Phillip Mills, having just put down the phone after a long call to an old friend from the regiment,
thought exactly the same thing and smiled as he went through to the sitting-room. He dropped on to the sofa and put his feet
up on the coffee table. Reaching for his cigarettes, he lit one up. So Wendy Peterson was at school with Jane, he thought,
and Jerry just phoned to invite him and Jane to lunch next Sunday, having heard that they had struck up a close friendship.
Jane was a “thoroughly nice girl” to quote Jerry and they were delighted that Phillip thought so too. Phillip grinned as he
flicked his ash into a saucer. After three years out on a limb with Suzy, he had miraculously re-entered polite society again
and the invitations were starting to flood in.

“Jane is a thoroughly nice girl,” he said aloud. “She’s clever, talented, kind, funny and sensible. Sir!” He saluted to the
empty room and stubbed out his cigarette, feeling suddenly flat. Jane wasn’t Suzanna. He stood and walked across to the window,
looking down at the traffic on the road. His body ached with longing for her. But he knew he had to put Suzy from his mind,
at least for the time being, he couldn’t let her get in the way, not at the moment, not until things were clear, settled.
He walked back to the sofa and lit another cigarette. He had to focus on one thing. If he didn’t, if he let anything else
get in the way, he knew he’d never be able to go through with it. He had to keep it clear in his mind, he had to know what
he wanted. I’d do anything to keep it, Jane had said that first time they met. She was right, it was worth anything and all
he needed was a little more time.