Oriental Hotel (45 page)

Usually Elise noticed none of this, so wrapped up was she in her love for Brit. But today she found herself sharply, poignantly aware of every detail, storing it away amongst the memories that she wanted to keep down all the years head.

This was the last time she would come here, she thought dully. However she might kick against it, as she had said to Hugh, when it came to the point she had no choice.

Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision, and when Brit kissed her she clung to him, burying her face in his neck.

‘Elise?' He held her away slightly. ‘What is it? What's wrong, sweetheart?'

For a moment she could not speak, then she braced herself to tell him.

‘Something rather terrible has happened.'

‘What?'

‘When I left yesterday afternoon – when you called after me – Hugh de Gama was in the corridor. He saw us.'

‘Oh.' He was silent briefly. ‘Well, that's it, then. At last it will be out in the open, thank God.'

Her head came up. ‘Oh, Brit, how can you say that? Don't you realise what it will mean if he tells Gordon? And he is going to, unless I promise him I will not see you again. He says he is Gordon's friend and he cannot stand by and be a party to deceiving him.'

‘How noble of him!' The corner of Brit's mouth lifted sarcastically. ‘I should like to see how fast he would forget his loyalties if he were the man you were deceiving Gordon with. But I still say he's doing us a favour, Elise. I have never liked the idea of hole-and-corner affairs, you know that. I would never have engaged in all this skulduggery at all if it hadn't been the only way to get you. And I fought against
that
hard enough, God knows!'

‘But Brit …' She swung away, crossed to the velvet chaise and sat down on it. ‘What is Gordon going to do when he finds out?'

He followed her to the chaise and perched on the arm. ‘Who cares? Leave him, Elise, then he can do what he likes.'

‘
Leave him
?'

‘Why not? Don't sound so surprised. It must have occurred to you, too?'

Her heart was pounding, her palms were damp. Oh, if it were only that easy!

‘I am his wife, Brit.'

‘There is such a thing as divorce.'

‘I know, but …' She broke off, biting at her lips. ‘I don't know if I could do it. That would be the selfish way out, wouldn't it, in order to get what I want. He would be so hurt, Brit. Oh, I know you will tell me I'm stupid to worry about that. Things are simple to you, aren't they – clear-cut, black and white. If you don't want to do something, you don't do it. If you want something, you take it and to hell with the consequences. But I'm not like that; I worry about all sorts of things. I've been married to Gordon for six years and I can't just dismiss him. It's funny, but sometimes I almost feel responsible for him, even though he's more than twenty years older than I am. He's been good to me, you see – put me on a pedestal, almost. And I'm sure he has never been unfaithful to me. It makes me feel so guilty, deceiving him, and as for
leaving
him … Oh, I just don't know …'

Brit shifted impatiently. ‘If you feel like that, what are you doing here?'

‘I'm here because I can't help myself! I love you, Brit, but it doesn't stop me from feeling terrible about hurting and deceiving Gordon.'

He leaned towards her. ‘So where does that leave me?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘While you're busy feeling guilty on Gordon's behalf, how about sparing a little thought for me? Do you think it is a great joy to me to know that when you leave this room you go home to him?'

She went pale. His arm slid up from her shoulders and tightened around her neck.

‘Does he make love to you?' She tried to twist away, unwilling to answer, but he held her there. ‘Does he?'

‘Most of the time he's working late,' she hedged.

‘And when he isn't working late?' There was a savage edge to his voice and his arm was so tight that she felt a twinge of panic.

‘I share his bed when he asks me. What do you expect? It doesn't mean anything.
It doesn't
!'

Brit swore and let her go.

‘Brit, please …' she begged.

He stood up, crossing to the bureau for his cigarettes with long, impatient strides.

‘I can't bear to think of him touching you. He doesn't know about me yet, remember, but by Christ, I know about him! For God's sake, leave him, Elise!'

There was a momentary silence, then she sobbed softly. ‘You don't know what you're asking, Brit. It's not that simple.'

‘It is quite simple.'

‘It's not just a question of me and Gordon. There's Alex to consider, too. Oh, can I have a cigarette, please?' He gave her one and lit it for her, a brash movement with the anger barely concealed. She blew out the smoke on a trembling breath and continued, ‘ He's only five years old, Brit. What would it do to him?'

‘He would get over it.'

‘Would he? I don't know. He idolises Gordon. I don't want to harm him, Brit; I don't want him to grow up feeling bitter, perhaps even thinking it's his fault that things didn't work out between his father and mother. Children do think that sometimes, don't they?'

‘I wouldn't know. Child psychology's not my line.'

‘Don't be flippant!' she snapped, close to tears. ‘He's suffering already because I don't spend enough time with him. I should know, after all. I am his mother.'

They glared at one another, then suddenly he stubbed out his cigarette and reached for her. ‘Come here.'

‘Brit.'

‘Come here, I said!'

As his arms went round her she collapsed against him, her face pressed into his shoulder. Gently he massaged her back and the tension began to ease out of her in shuddering spasms. His lips were in her hair, whispering, soothing until gradually she began to respond. She clung to him as he led her through to the bedroom, and for a little while she forgot everything in the rapturous union of their bodies.

Afterwards, however, the turmoil soon returned. Making love was probably like taking drugs, she thought: blissful oblivion for just a little while, disguising problems but not curing them.

‘Oh Brit, what are we going to do?' she asked softly.

He raised himself up on one elbow to look down at her and stroked her hair away from her forehead, loving the clear lines of her face and the thick fringe of lashes that protected her amber eyes; stirred to tenderness by the vulnerability of her mouth, stubborn though it could sometimes be, and the small, straight nose which helped to give her face its character.

‘There are a number of things we ought to talk about which we haven't discussed,' he said gravely. ‘One thing we seem to have ignored these last few days is that there is a war going on. Have you said anything yet to Gordon about taking Alex and getting out of Hong Kong?'

‘Not really,' she admitted. ‘I have mentioned it once or twice, but you've heard what the reaction is. He simply refuses to accept that there is any danger.'

‘It was the main reason you wanted to get back,' he reminded her. ‘To take Alex to a place of safety.'

Elise said nothing. It was all very well to pretend she had not pressed the point with Gordon because she had thought he would be certain to refuse. That was only pan of the truth. The rest had to do with her reluctance to leave Brit – to cut herself off from him completely, perhaps. And strangely, here in Hong Kong the general apathy had affected her. What had seemed urgent and inevitable in Cairo and throughout their journey now appeared like a bogeyman conjured up to frighten children. Hong Kong might have to endure the occasional blackout, Hugh de Gama and the others might be playing at soldiers in the Volunteer Defence Corps; but on the whole, life was exactly as it had always been.

‘Do you really believe evacuation is necessary?' she asked.

‘Yes, you know I do.' There was a hard edge to his voice. ‘The war is coming to Hong Kong, there is no doubt about that. The bigger companies have already accepted that it's inevitable – you heard what Hugh de Gama said. Even the owners of the Peninsula Hotel chain are refusing to make any further investment at the moment, and my father is putting up the blinds in his companies as far as is possible. It's only the smaller businessmen and the ordinary people who refuse to face facts.'

A chill ran over her skin. ‘So you still think I should go to Australia?'

‘I
know
you should.'

‘But you're still here,' she said defensively.

‘That's got nothing to do with it.' Brit's fingers traced the line of her jawbone and crept up her chin to outline her mouth. ‘I can take care of myself. Besides,' he hesitated, ‘I don't know how much longer I shall be here.'

She swivelled her head sharply, feeling very much as if she had just stepped over the edge of a cliff, and he moved his long frame slightly beneath the midnight blue silk sheets.

‘I have a job to do, Elise. There is no point in your asking me what it is – I can't tell you. But it is going to take me away from Hong Kong – for how long, I don't know, but it may be quite a while.'

‘But you're being invalided out of the RAF, you told me.'

‘That's true. But it is not quite the whole truth. I'm sorry, Elise. I really cannot tell you any more than that. You will have to accept that there are things which cannot be told when there's a war on.'

‘You mean – you're going to do something
secret
!' she asked incredulously.

‘I'm working for Intelligence, yes. And if you tell anyone else that, you could get me killed.'

‘Oh my God!' she said.

She was suddenly very cold, and all the problems of their relationship seemed very unimportant. Brit, working for Intelligence! Brit, a security agent – a spy! She couldn't believe it; yet even in that first startled moment, she realised that it explained a great many things which had puzzled her up to now. ‘Your leg – your hand – the crash …' she said foolishly.

‘All true,' he assured her. ‘The only thing is that I am not completely on the scrap-heap.'

She lay quite still while the shock ran through her in shuddering waves. Then she struggled to sit up.

‘When do you have to go?'

‘Quite soon.'

‘So it's all immaterial really – Hugh threatening to tell Gordon if I see you again. I won't be able to see you because you won't be here.' Emotion had stirred anger in her as it so often did – the anger of self-defence. ‘No wonder you could afford to be so blasé about it.'

‘Elise … Elise …' He leaned across, smoothing her hair away from her face. ‘Don't be so touchy. I love you, remember?'

‘Then why are you going away?' She knew she was being irrational, but she could not help it. She wanted to strike out at someone and the only one she could vent her frustration on was Brit.

‘I'm going away because I have to,' he said reasonably. ‘But before I go, I want to make sure you're safe, not stuck here in this rat-trap. I want you to go to Australia.'

There was a pause while she thought about it.

‘But even if Gordon did agree to my going to Australia, it would all have to be arranged,' she said at last. ‘ I've got nowhere to go.'

Diplomatically he ignored the reference to Gordon.

‘I can solve that problem. Cormorant have holdings in Australia – real estate in Sydney, a sheep farm in Victoria and another in New South Wales. You would be safe there and a great deal more comfortable than some of the evacuees – though mostly they seem to be behaving like spoiled children – bellyaching about the size of their rooms not being what they're used to, instead of counting themselves lucky to be out of the way of what's coming here.'

She shivered. ‘But how would I get there?'

‘I would take you. In the Cormorant company plane.'

‘I thought you couldn't fly.'

His mouth twisted, a hard, humorous line. ‘I've been exercising my hand whenever I've had the opportunity and the use is coming back. And I can always take the Cormorant pilot along with me. As far as the authorities are concerned, he will be responsible for the plane. Only he and I will know that he's in the co-pilot's chair.'

Love and tenderness welled up in her as she realised the extent of the determination with which he had faced his injuries.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for a black silk robe.

‘I suppose you will say that you must have time to think it over. But for goodness sake, don't think for too long. I have to go away for a couple of days, starting tomorrow – it's not the long push and I will be back. But that's when I will take you, if you want to go. Dammit!' His voice cracked suddenly and he reached out for her again, pulling her close. ‘Why am I saying it like that – ‘‘if you want to go,'' as if it made no difference to me either way? Make up your mind, please, Elise. I will take you and Alex to Australia, and I will know where to find you when it's all over.'

She turned her head, confused by the chaos of her emotions. When she had discovered she wanted him it had been bad enough, but harmless to the extent that it had been an impossible dream. But now the dream was within her grasp. He wanted her, too, and being Brit he intended to do something about it – something which would change all their lives and have far-flung implications from which her mind shrank. She couldn't just say, ‘ Yes, Brit,' no matter how much she wanted to do so. There was far more to it than that …

‘I still don't know if I can leave him,' she said softly.

‘All right, don't make up your mind about that now. Just let me get you and Alex to Australia, then you will have time to think, when you are right away from both of us. And when it's all over I will come for you and take you … Where would you like to go? Back to England? The choice is yours.'