Exposure (29 page)

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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

BOOK: Exposure
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He waited. Evelyn had primed him carefully. ‘You're supposed to think it's genuine, Billy. I said I'd persuade you she would benefit from a few days away.
Don't
let her see you know there's a reason behind it. Be nasty. She'll expect that.' Evelyn was his right arm, he thought. Shrewd, invaluable in situations where feminine judgement was so superior to his own. And ruthless, as he said. She liked Julia, that was genuine. But she would sacrifice her without a qualm on his behalf.

Evelyn Western hadn't betrayed her trust, Julia decided. She had kept her word, in spite of Ben's suspicions. ‘Lord Western,' she said. ‘I do need just a few days to clear my head. Then I promise you,' she emphasized the word, ‘I promise you I'll get a breakthrough before Christmas. If I don't –' she faced him calmly, ‘then I'll put my resignation on your desk on the first of January.'

‘And I'll accept it,' he said briskly. ‘Oh, all right then, take a week, if it's so essential to you. I'd get into trouble with my wife if I didn't say yes. Pity she took such a liking to you. When do you want to go?'

‘From Monday?'

She hadn't confided fully in Evelyn, so he tried on his own account. ‘Where are you off to? Sunshine, I suppose …'

‘No, I'm going to stay with some cousins, that's all. Thank you, Lord Western.'

‘Don't thank me,' he grumbled, ‘thank Evelyn. But I'll hold you to that promise. Before Christmas.'

‘I know you will,' Julia answered. ‘And I'll deliver.'

She went down in the private elevator to her own floor. Inside her office she sank down in one of the big armchairs.

‘What a bastard,' she said aloud. ‘If I'm right, he'll eat his words. That'll be some consolation. He said I could name my price, and, by God, I'm going to! And for Ben, too …'

Harold King had called a special board meeting in his private penthouse. On occasions like this he used his sitting room instead of the massive boardroom on the floor below. His sitting room was the chosen venue whenever he pushed through something of dubious legality. It overawed his company secretary and his finance director. They sank or swam with Harold King and they wouldn't give him any arguments, whatever he suggested. Gloria was there too. She had been admitted to the Board of his Pension Fund. When that formality had been completed, the real work would begin. The transfer of millions of stocks and bonds held on behalf of King's thousands of employees into an investment company of which he had dual control with his daughter. Then, he could fly back to New York and wind up the financing deal with Field. After that Christmas at Gstaad as usual. He had a house there; Marilyn skied and so did Gloria, who showed nerve and unexpected athleticism on the slopes. He had given up some years earlier. One fall where he pulled thigh muscles and was out of action for weeks had taught him to be his age. He read biographies and travel books in the sunshine and planned for the coming year. He loved Switzerland.

It reminded him of home. Gloria was quiet that morning. He had asked her briefly if she'd given Leo Derwent his marching orders the day after their argument, and she'd nodded rather sheepishly and said, yes, she wouldn't be seeing him any more.

King didn't think about it again. She had never deceived him or disobeyed his wishes. He thought she seemed subdued that morning, when she should have been excited. While they waited for the secretary and the other director, King said suddenly, ‘What's wrong with you, sweetheart? You don't seem yourself. Got the curse?'

Gloria hesitated. She was miserable instead of happy. She had lied to him, and she hated it. But she was torn between guilt and a growing obsession. She loved him, he was her world. But seeing Leo wasn't a disloyalty. It didn't change her feelings for her father. It was harmless. Nothing had happened between them. They met once or twice a week, went to the cinema or the theatre. Sometimes they had dinner together in a discreet restaurant where they were unlikely to meet anyone they knew. It was completely harmless because Leo had made no sexual advance. The idea of a sexual encounter with a man had always disgusted her. But what she imagined would happen with him at first tantalized her and then obsessed her. It spoiled her lovemaking with an older woman she had met.

She was restless and dissatisfied, and the lesbian lady soon went looking for another lover. She took in a deep breath. ‘Daddy,' she said. ‘Daddy, don't be angry, but there's something I want to tell you.'

King had answered his own question. Women were often funny at the menstrual cycle. He wasn't listening properly when she spoke. ‘Been running up bills?' he joked with her. ‘Your mother was complaining about it yesterday. She says you're always buying clothes … “Why not?” I said. “Why shouldn't she? She can have everything she wants and more.”' His secretary buzzed through that the two men were in the outer hall. ‘Ah, here they are. Remember, always insist on your employees being punctual to the second. It's good for them. And always make a point of keeping
them
waiting. That's good for them, too. But not this morning. We've got a lot of business to get through.

‘Send them in, send them in,' King said. He slipped his arm round Gloria for a moment. ‘Naughty girl,' he said. ‘Spending so much money. You're going to start earning it now …' Gloria said nothing. The moment had passed. She wouldn't get up the nerve to try again.

The flight to Jersey was bumpy; Julia was never airsick and she loved flying. It was a blustery day with rain clouds gathering above the island, but, as always, the temperature was mild. Janey came hurrying to meet her at the airport.

‘Julia darling,' she exclaimed. ‘How lovely to see you – David couldn't get here, he had an emergency at the hospital. How was your flight?'

‘A bit rough, but it didn't bother me. You're looking great, Janey. I haven't got much luggage. I always look as if I've come to stay for a year when I go away – I tried to cut down on it this time.'

‘You can stay as long as you like,' Janey enthused. ‘All our friends are dying to meet you.' On the drive down to Trinity she chatted at top speed.

Life was uneventful, the usual round of parties gathering momentum for Christmas, their trip to France had been great fun, but she got a tummy bug which rather spoilt the last few days … David was happier than ever, enjoying his work and finding plenty of time for golf or sailing. It had been such a hassle living in England, nothing on earth would persuade them to go back now. Julia let it flow over her, making appropriate comments. The Petersons had a charming house, legacy of his mother, with the lush garden for which Jersey was famous. The rain had started, and they hurried inside. ‘Damn,' Janey said. ‘It was glorious yesterday, blazing sunshine and quite warm. I hope it's not going to be like this for your visit.'

‘I shan't mind,' Julia told her. ‘It's such a treat to get away.'

They were sitting with a pre-lunch drink in the comfortable sitting room. It had french windows and a view of the beautiful garden. The rain lashed down against the view.

‘You do look a bit tired,' Janey remarked. ‘Have a nice rest while you're here. Nothing wrong, is there?'

‘No,' Julia smiled at her. ‘Nothing. Just a lot of work and pressure. Nothing a few days with you and David won't put right. How are the boys?'

They had two sons in their late teens, one up at Cambridge, the other travelling through Australia before starting medical school. Julia hadn't seen them for over a year. The schoolboy seemed nice enough, the undergraduate was rather arrogant and offhand. He had reminded her of Felix at the time. Felix. She hadn't thought about him since Ben told her how readily he had co-operated in contacting Joe Patrick. She was surprised that Ben, who had always been so scathing about Felix, spoke rather well of him. He wasn't jealous, that was why. Felix was part of her past. She looked up quickly when her cousin said, ‘How's the boyfriend?'

‘Which one?'

‘Oh, my goodness … like that, is it? Lucky you.' Janey laughed. ‘Felix, I met him with you last time we were over. Who else have you got in tow?'

‘Felix and I broke up quite a while ago,' she explained. ‘I've met someone else. He's pretty special.'

‘I'm glad,' Janey said. ‘Felix wasn't for you, darling. David couldn't stand him, I can tell you that now. I thought he was rather a dish, but a bit brash. What's the new one like?'

‘Older than me this time,' Julia admitted. ‘Very bright indeed. We're living together to see how it works out. He's divorced, but a long time ago. It was a bad experience. We aren't going to rush anything. But he's lovely. You'd like him. So would David.'

‘You should have brought him over,' Janey said. ‘What's he do?'

‘He's on the
Herald
,' Julia answered. ‘He was my boss until I got this new job heading up “Exposure”. Next time you come to London, we'll fix dinner together.'

After lunch, Julia unpacked and asked Janey if she'd mind if she went for a walk. A large red setter wagged its tail at the word, and Julia offered to take him with her. It had stopped raining. The sun was forcing shafts of light through the retreating clouds, the air smelt sweet and warm after the rain. Janey didn't offer to go with her. She had things to do, because a couple of friends were coming to dinner. Not a party, she assured Julia, not on her first evening, but two very close friends …

Julia set off with the sleek dog on a lead. There was a path leading down to the shingle beach and she took it. Once off the road, she unleashed the setter who bounded happily up and down.

He was on the island. His photograph was imprinted on her mind, like a transposed negative. Nearly fifty years ago, young, smiling, confident that he would live out the conflict that was claiming so many lives. And with him was another figure, less well defined but clear enough. She stopped and paused to throw a piece of driftwood for the setter. It raced into the surf to bring it back.

If King's bloodhounds had tracked her to the island then she had very little time to waste before they picked her up.

Tomorrow, she decided. She would go back now, and help Janey in the kitchen and suggest it.

Janey was taken by surprise. ‘Richard Watson? Yes, we know him. He's very nice, lived here for years. He was a friend of David's mother. Why do you want to meet him especially?'

‘I read a book he wrote,' Julia said. ‘Actually it was my boyfriend who read it and passed it on. He said it was very interesting and well written. About his time in the army and being a prisoner of war. I think it was privately printed … it said in a footnote he'd retired to live here. I'd rather like to meet him if you can arrange it.'

Janey said, ‘I never knew he wrote anything. He was rather a successful businessman. ICI, I think. I'll ask him to dinner. What a good idea. He'll be flattered at you wanting to meet him. We've told him all about you.'

Julia smiled. ‘I hope he won't be disappointed.'

‘Don't you believe it,' her cousin said. ‘He loves attractive women. I'll call him now.'

Julia finished laying the table. She could hear Janey's voice and then her cheerful laugh. She came in and said, ‘It's all fixed. He's asked us to dinner. Tomorrow. He had arranged a small party and he was thrilled at the idea of meeting you. Says he's read all your stuff in the newspaper. He's making it black tie in your honour!'

‘How very sweet of him. Thanks, Janey,' she said. ‘I brought a silk shirt and a long black skirt, will that do?'

‘Of course … we're not that smart over here. You'll look terrific. You always do.'

The evening was relaxed. David Peterson made a fuss of Julia, opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate her arrival. The couple who came to dinner in the spacious kitchen were a retired diplomat who was a native Jerseyman and his English wife. They were full of amusing stories about his last posting in Rio de Janeiro. Janey told them about Richard Watson's invitation. They assured Julia that she would like her host and find him an interesting man with a lot of personal charm. ‘He's all of that,' David agreed. ‘I always thought he and my mother might get together. But they never did. She was very fond of him.'

‘He's been a widower for years,' the diplomat's wife said. ‘People get set in their ways. Quite a number of ladies have had their eye on Richard but he's never fallen for anyone. I think all those years as a POW had an effect on him. It was an experience that marked a lot of people. My brother for one. But he was with those bloody awful Japanese. Came home and went into the Church. He's a parson in Norfolk. High Anglican, never married. Loves bells and smells. Extraordinary … But he seems happy enough.'

‘Which is surely all that matters,' David said tartly, Julia noticed. Then she remembered that, unlike the rest of the family, he was a regular churchgoer. The more they talked about Richard Watson, the more intrigued she became. There was nothing in the slight volume of his wartime reminiscences that marked him out as different from thousands of other young middle-class men who became officers in the forties. But forewarned is forearmed. Watson was obviously no elderly waffler who would part with information freely. She would have to tread carefully. Before they went to bed, Ben telephoned her. Janey took the call and said, smiling slyly at Julia, ‘I think it's the boyfriend, darling. You can take it upstairs if you like.'

‘Thanks,' Julia said. ‘I'll do that.'

His voice was reassuring. She felt a pang when she heard it.

‘How are you? How's it going?'

‘I'm fine. Everything's going better than I hoped. I'm seeing our man tomorrow night. Janey fixed it up for me. They're being so sweet I feel lousy to make use of them like this. I miss you, Ben. I really do.'

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