The Daughter of Night (8 page)

'So—so,' Hester shrugged. 'We won't keep you a minute, we don't want to intrude.'

'Who's intruding?' Crispin's fair eyebrows nearly touched his hairline. 'And why so formal? Come and meet my friends—and,' he glanced over her shoulder at Demetrios, 'wouldn't you like to introduce me? Oh, sorry, sweetie, I've left you holding the tray. Shan't be a sec—just let me get rid of it.'

The beat of soul music increased as he pushed open his living-room door—there was a babel of voices and Hester shrank from the noise. She wasn't in the mood for parties; all she wanted was to see her parcel safely tucked away and then get back to her own place.

'There!' Crispin was triumphant as he returned empty-handed, 'that didn't take long—now, let's have the introductions.'

'Crispin—Demetrios Thalassis.' She made it as brief as possible, hoping Crispin wouldn't recognise the name but knowing he would. He never forgot a client's name—he prided himself on it.

'Any relation to our new client?'

'By marriage only.' Demetrios kept it curt and Hester knew he wasn't approving of Crispin. Under her lashes she peeped at his impassive face and hastily thrust herself between them, words tripping off her tongue.

'We haven't much time, I'm afraid, so could you…?'

'Not joining the party?' Crispin looked disappointed and then reverted to his businesslike approach. 'Oh well, some other time, perhaps, when you're not so busy.' He led the way down the passage and opened a door into a bleak little room, strictly functional and with not a trace of Art Nouveau. 'My office and,' he felt around the parcel, 'here's the safe. What is it, money? Oh, does that mean you've changed your mind, that you're going to buy into the business after all?'

' 'Fraid not.' Hester was suitably sad as she watched him stow her precious package away and lock the small safe. 'Will you bring it tomorrow, please, I'll bank it at lunch time.'

Goodbyes were brief—Demetrios made it quite clear that he had neither the time nor inclination to hang about. He stood in the narrow hallway, reducing its proportions to the size of a dog kennel, and he looked as if it smelled like one. His lofty superiority upset Hester so that when she seated herself in the car, she erupted in a uncontrolled fashion.

'Stuck-up pig! How dare you treat a friend of mine like that!'

'Friend?' There was a nasty note in his voice and she could hardly recognise the smiling, almost teasing man who had come to her flatlet earlier that evening.

'Yes,
friend
! Cris has been very good to me, I've worked for him since I was seventeen and he's taught me a lot. If it hadn't been for you and your machinations, I'd have been promoted manageress of the present salon when he opens the new one in Knightsbridge…'

'And was that money intended to buy your way into a partnership?'

Hester choked on wrath. She and Crispin had gone alone into the office while Demetrios waited outside. 'You've been listening at keyholes to what's none of your business,' she spat. 'How low can you get?'

'Much lower, if I have to,' he answered unashamedly. 'Remember, what my wife does
is
my business!'

'But I'm not your wife yet,' she reminded him sweetly.

'Mmm,' he swerved to avoid a jaywalker and swore under his breath, 'we'll talk about that when we're back at your place—a sensible discussion's impossible in these circumstances. Is there anything to eat at your flat?'

'Baked beans on toast,' she offered icily. 'I don't go in for candlelit dinners a deux.'

'Then my place, I think.' Abruptly he changed direction at the next traffic lights and headed for Mayfair.

'Here it comes!' sighed Hester in a world-weary way. 'The big seduction scene. You men are
so
unoriginal—the same old act every time…'

'Not in the least.' The change in his tone was striking and again she peeped, to find a smile of pure amusement about his mouth. 'I shall take a virgin to my marriage bed—by the way, you are one, aren't you?'

'That's for me to know and you to find out.' Hester tried to conceal her embarrassment beneath an airy layer, but her cheeks had reddened, and then, 'Oh!' as his hand found her knee and his fingers trailed upwards. 'Cut that out!' and she slapped hard at his fingers.

'Yes,' he murmured, 'I think you are,' drawling it back at her. 'You put up a sophisticated front, but underneath it you're scared to death.' She saw the white flash of his teeth as his mouth parted in a knowing smile. 'There's an automatic withdrawal, a shrinking away from the unknown, by the inexperienced.'

'Then I bet you've not shrunk from anything since you were sixteen,' she snapped waspishly. 'Would you like me to produce a medical certificate?'

'No,' he shook his head and she caught the gesture in the darkness. 'I don't like intruders on my property, even doctors. Now, be quiet until we get to the hotel.'

'
Your
property!' Hester's voice rose on a squeal of outrage. 'If I live to be ninety, I'll never be
your
propert…' and she finished on a yelp of anguish as his fingers and thumb found the sensitive spots on her knee and squeezed remorselessly.

'I said be quiet!' He released her knee and she took a deep breath—his property, indeed! She'd show him! He'd have to learn she wasn't some cowed female to add to his harem and to be shut away somewhere private and labelled 'For private entertainment'! Vilma's remark still niggled at her, making her uneasy and on edge.

'You live around here,' she said when the silence between them grew too much to bear.

'In the Thalassis hotel,' he tossed the words across to her while he negotiated the traffic. 'It's a new one, only built last year, and I have the top floor, what we'd call the penthouse suite in the States.'

'Oh my, I
am
going up in the world!' She made it sound as nasty as possible. 'No wonder baked beans on toast in my bedsit was beneath you—no room service. I hope you don't expect either me or your daughter to live in a place like that. Me, I don't matter, I could live anywhere, surroundings don't mean much to me, but it's not at all the right place for a child. A child needs a home, not a hotel.'

'Then we'll find a house.' He sounded as though he was humouring her. 'Somewhere quiet, by the river, with a large garden. How would that suit?'

'Better,' she admitted grudgingly, and then, because she was cross with both him and herself, cross, worried and nearly at the end of her tether, 'What are you going to do, rub your magic lamp and summon your private genie to build one for you?'

Demetrios' hand reached out to pat her knee comfortingly. 'No, buy one. Stop being so uptight, Hester. I've told you, I shan't seduce you, we're just going to have a quiet, simple supper and a talk about the future. You can even have baked beans on toast, if you wish.'

On Monday evening, Hester climbed the steps to the Poplar flat. She climbed wearily, it had been a busy day, but physical tiredness was only part of the reason for her lagging steps. Every step she took nowadays seemed to lead her further into deception, and tonight would be the worst of all. Her mind ran back over what she intended to say, and then she decided to play it by ear. It wasn't much good rehearsing only one side of a conversation.

Flo greeted her enthusiastically. 'I thought you'd never get here, Hes! Has Mia told you the news?'

'You're off to Switzerland? It's all arranged?' Hester summoned up a look of surprise. 'Mia's managed to fix it for you?'

' 'S'right.' Flo leaned back on her pillows with a wide smile of satisfaction. 'One of the benefits of having a staff nurse in the family,' she tapped the side of her nose significantly. 'Mia knows the consultants, the nobs—talks to them in their own language.' Hester kept a straight face while she thought of her little foster-sister 'hobnobbing with the nobs'. It was a fantastic invention, one that only Flo would have believed—but meanwhile her foster-mother was continuing. 'There's ways of getting round the regulations, you know, and one of the nobs has found one. Something to do with a private health scheme—I don't know much about it 'cos I've always been on the National Health myself, but they've put me on the books of this private thing, even though I haven't paid a penny…'

So that was how Mia had explained it! Hester covered a sigh of relief with a spurious yawn. It also helped to cover her wide grin of triumphant amusement. 'Sorry, Flo,' she apologised. 'It's been a busy day.'

'But you'll come and see me off tomorrow, won't you?' Flo pleaded. 'They've even arranged for Mia to come with me and stay a few days while I settle in— saves money for them, doesn't it? They don't have to send one of those expensive private nurses just for the journey.'

'There won't be any journey if you don't stop bouncing about like a two-year-old!' Hester fished in her bag for the ritual paperback and handed it over. 'Calm down and read that while I bring you a cup of tea. I'll have mine with Mia in the kitchen.'

'Clever of me, don't you think?' Mia giggled as she and Hester sat at the kitchen table. 'Isn't it a good job she's as innocent as a newborn lamb? She believed every word I told her!'

'She wants to.' Hester had a sudden flash of insight. 'I think she knows.'

'Impossible,' Mia shook her head. 'I've not said a word about you, your mother or the money, and nobody else knows.'

'I don't mean that,' Hester found it difficult to put into words. 'I mean, I think she knows it's more serious than the doctors have said. I think she knows she might die.'

Mia's thin shoulders dropped, then she straightened them and cheered up. 'You could be right, Hes, but I'm not going to think about that side of it. I've got seven days' holiday due to me and I'm taking them so I can go with her and stay for a few days—how do I get in touch with you if I have any news?'

'Bit difficult.' Hester stirred her tea vigorously, frowning at the little mound of bubbles that broke up and swirled to the sides of the cup. 'I'm thinking of changing my bedsit.'

'Good for you! That place you're living in is claustrophobic, you're living on top of yourself— What's the new address?'

'That's the trouble, I don't know.' All Hester's carefully thought out excuses died the death. It was as she had feared, Mia wasn't asking the right questions, but she wasn't the only one to have flashes of insight; Mia had one bang on target.

'It's a man, isn't it? Go on, tell me, Hes. I'm a bit more modern and elastic than Flo. Who is he, and does he want you to move in with him?'

'He wants to marry me, but…' Hester wished she could make a clean breast of it all, not get bogged down in half-truths and evasions, but she daren't. She'd have to give a name and Mia would immediately connect Thalassis—money—Thalassis; her foster-sister was no fool, nor would she accept the money under those conditions—it would pull the curtains on Flo's going to the Swiss clinic.

'And you think you've not known him long enough?' Mia asked judiciously. 'What are you going to do, have a trial run to see if you get on?'

Hester was shocked by the realisation that at least one of her ideas about Mia was way off beam—her foster-sister might be said to be bordering on the permissive, but perhaps that was better than going into a Victorian spasm!