The Man in Possession (8 page)

‘Really
?’
she mocked.

‘Yes, really. You need taking in hand
.’

‘
By some man?
’

‘By some man,
’
he reiterated. ‘And for your own good.
’

‘The dominant, masterful male
!’

He eyed her without smiling.
‘
Call it what you will. You need protecting from men like that—
’
again his glance went in Max
’
s direction
‘
—who would break that sensitive heart of yours, leave you mentally unsatisfied and be quite incapable of shouldering the responsibilities of married life.
’

Julia eyed him rather uncertainly. He was either paying her some very great compliments or simply heartily disliked Max.

She gave him an amused smile. She felt it would never do to take him too seriously.

‘When—or if ever—you meet a man willing to take on the job, perhaps you
’
ll let me know. Meanwhile, I
’
ll have to get along the best way I can
,’
she said lightly.

There was a short silence, then he asked unexpectedly:
‘
What sort of man was David Hargreaves?
’

She felt as though she
’
d been dealt a blow on the heart. She drew in a painful breath and felt the blood drain from her face.

‘I—I
’
d rather not answer that,
’
she said stiffly. Then a feeling of exquisite tenderness took possession of her. Dear David. Why shouldn
’
t she talk about him
?’
It
’
s—difficult to say just what kind of man he was
,’
she said softly.
‘
He was one who could both excite me and give me a sense of peace, whom I could admire as well as—love, a man of gentleness and of strength, a man without whom—
’

She broke off, suddenly aware of the scrutiny of the man across the table. For a few moments she had forgotten the existence of anyone else.
A man without whom I never thought I could exist
, she had been about to say, until she had felt the magnetism of the man sitting opposite her. It occurred to her now that this evening was the very first time she had felt natural since that ghastly day when David had met with his accident.

‘
I
’
m—sorry
,’
she said swiftly. ‘I—got carried away
.’

‘So I noticed
,’
he answered, his face set in an expression she could not read. Then he added, ‘He was evidently quite a man, and almost impossible to compete with, I imagine
.’

‘
As far as I
’
m concerned, yes, but whether he was my
“
type
”
or not as outlined by you—
’

Her thoughts took over. David had been intelligent enough to run a boat-hire business. Whether superior to her own intelligence she would find it impossible to say. But firm—and by that she supposed Roger Leighton had meant masterful—he had not shown any evidence that she could recall. He had had no need to. But one did not love a man for mind or capabilities so much as what he did to you. She and David had liked each other immediately. Some might have called it love at first sight. Of one thing she was certain. From their first meeting until his fatal accident a few months later they had been absolutely everything to each other.

‘
I think it
’
s time to change the subject
,’
came Roger
’
s voice brusquely.

She started. But she agreed. The conversation had become much too personal.

‘
Tell me about the oil business
,’
she said.
‘
Is it
really
anything like that well-known television series?
’

He nodded. ‘It is, as a matter of fact. At least, in some respects.
’

‘
And were you on the engineering side or—
’

‘No, sales. But I don
’
t really want to talk about oil, if you don
’
t mind. I came to Norfolk to get away from it. I
’
d much rather talk about the Broads. The very sound of the name has long held a fascination for me. Why are they called that, by the way? They
’
re really sort of lakes shooting off from the rivers.
’

‘Perhaps the name just evolved—a broad stretch of water. They
’
re man-made, you know, caused by digging out peat, ages ago.
’
Then:
‘
Have you ever taken out a Broads yacht or cruiser for a holiday?
’
she asked.

‘A yacht a couple of times—not as often as I would have liked.
’

‘I suppose business kept you pretty busy,
’
she said, though in the back of her mind was the thought that perhaps the woman in his life did not like sailing.

He said,
‘
Yes,
’
briefly, then after a pause went on to discuss the sail craft of their own fleet, asking her about her own sailing prowess and which boat she used.

‘A half-decker with lug sail,
’
she told him promptly.
‘They
’
re ideal for solo sailing—so easy to manage.
’

‘
But not much
“
fun
”
, is it, sailing alone?
’
he queried.

She smiled a little. ‘Sometimes there
’
s no option.
’

‘True, but if there
is
someone around—
’

She nodded, thinking of David again. With the right person sailing was more than
‘
fun
’
. It was sheer heaven. She and David had planned a honeymoon on a two-berth auxiliary yacht.

Roger Leighton broke into her thoughts, this time talking about the business, that he would like to encourage sailing by having more yachts for hire.

At this she felt once more the urge to tease him.
‘That would
not
be very good business.
’

She expected he would realise that she was joking, but he didn
’
t. He took her seriously and the conversation was not quite as pleasant as it had been previously. They took their coffee in the hotel lounge and Julia noticed his glance go to the clock several times, almost as if he were wanting time to pass. At nine-thirty he suggested it was time to be going.

‘I promised to get you back for ten
,’
he added.

He rose, not giving her the opportunity of changing her mind even if she had wanted to.

It had been a mixed sort of evening, Julia thought as she sat back in the dimness of his car. If it were not for a certain reserve and unaccountable changes of mood he could be an interesting, even an exciting man. At this thought she experienced a faint twinge of conscience, of disloyalty to the memory of David. This was the first time she had taken any interest in another man, as a man, since his death. It was odd that until this evening she had avoided talking about him. Now she found she wanted to. Why, she could not explain, except that she felt almost as if she were being released from a kind of bondage.

It was not until Roger turned into the boatyard that she realised neither of them had spoken all the way home. Apparently he also had been engrossed in his thoughts.

‘
Well, here we are
,’
he said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. ‘Dead on time. If you
’
ll give me your key I
’
ll open your door for you.
’

‘It
’
s all right, I can—
’
But the words,
I can manage
died in her throat. He was not the kind of man one should say that to. He would not appreciate independence in a woman.

As if to prove her right he ignored her half-finished sentence and held out his hand. With a feeling of amusement she rummaged in her bag and put the key into his palm. In a second he was out of the car, had unlocked the door of the houseboat and was holding the
car door open for her.

He helped her out and she thanked him.
‘
Would you care to come in for a coffee?
’

‘
Er—no, thanks. I have some letters to write, and I mustn
’
t rob you of your beauty sleep.
’

More disappointed than she felt she should have been, she pushed open the door of the houseboat and stepped inside.

‘Goodnight, then—
’

‘
Julia-
’

She turned hopefully. Another half hour of his company over a cup of coffee would round off the evening very nicely.

But all he said was: ‘Thanks for turning what would have been a ve
r
y dull evening into an extremely pleasant one.
’

To Julia
’
s ears it sounded stilted and conventional. She murmured her own thanks and said goodnight once more before closing the door.

For a little while after hearing his car drive the few yards to his house and garage, Julia battled raggedly with a sense of dissatisfaction, but gradually she relaxed and smiled to herself as she recalled some of their conversation. In all, she went to bed in a happier frame of mind than she had known for a very long time.

During the night there was a change of wind direction, and a gradual thaw set in. For three days rain came down, accompanied by high winds. The workmen moved into the office and Julia squelched her way to and from the house to work in the temporary office there. She saw very little of Roger. He seemed to be off on some business of which she knew nothing, and when she did see him he had very little to say to her. Julia began to wonder whether he had regretted taking her out to dinner. Perhaps from now on he wanted there to be strictly a boss-employee relationship between them. It was all useless conjecture, of course, and she told herself it didn
’
t matter to her in the slightest what he
had in mind. All the same she would be glad when the busy season began, though even Easter was still some weeks away. .

On Thursday evening however, as she was putting things away at the end of the day, he came into the study/office.

‘
Have you thought any more about my suggestion of getting away for a week-end or so?
’
he asked.

She shook her head.

‘Why not?
’
he demanded. ‘Can
’
t you tear yourself away from the place?
’

Her eyes widened at his tone.
‘
I—don
’
t know what you mean. It
’
s just that I haven
’
t thought about it.
’

‘
Don
’
t you
want
to see your parents?
’
he asked accusingly.

She had actually been thinking of inviting them to visit her over Easter. There was plenty of room in the houseboat. Quite apart from the Broads, this was a very good area in which to spend a holiday. There were so many places of interest all around, and she knew they would enjoy it.

She looked at Roger Leighton
’
s dark face and wondered what had happened to annoy him.

‘
I
’
ll look up trains and go this week-end,
’
she said mildly. She thought she had also better ask him if it was all right for her to invite her parents to stay, and was about to do so when he exploded again.

‘
Trains? You can
’
t travel by train.
’

‘That
’
s the only way I
’
ll get there,
’
she told him.
‘
I haven
’
t a car at present. I sold it when I wanted to buy the business. I
’
m afraid I
’
ve been using the firm
’
s van for odd trips into town. I shall have to get another car, but meanwhile—
’