Unguarded Moment (23 page)

But Alix needed to talk, although it hadn't been easy at first. The words came stiffly and jerkily, and she was thankful that she had cried all her tears away the previous night. Gemma had listened without prompting, . without comment as Alix stumbled through her faltering recital, her eyes wide and grave as she watched her friend.

When Alix had finished she said, 'And did you never suspect anything—while you were living with Bianca, I mean?'

Alix shook her head. 'In many ways, she did her best to keep me at a distance,' she said. 'Except once—in Italy, when she came to my room to talk to me. There was almost a closeness then.'

'What did she want?' Gemma asked.

Alix smiled mirthlessly, To warn me not to get involved with Liam. I should have listened to her.''

Gemma gave her arm a comforting squeeze. 'Don't punish yourself about that, Alix, You're a human girl, not some kind of saint.'

'But I knew what he was,' Alix said miserably. 'I knew from the start that he was ruthless and unscrupulous, and that I couldn't trust him. Only…'

'Only when the chips were down, it made not the slightest difference.' Gemma sounded matter-of-fact. 'Love isn't a computer dating service, you know. It doesn't set up matches between equally worthy and upright citizens. It creates a chemistry and waits for the reaction, which can often be quite explosive—as you've discovered. Now, can you look me in the eye and say that you wish it had never happened—because even if you did I don't think I'd believe you, Alix.'

Alix said soberly, 'I don't think I'd believe myself.'

This was what hurt, she thought later. Knowing that in spite of everything that had happened, she still loved Liam, and that although she knew he had only been using her, if he came to her again she would be unable to resist.

Going back to the house to collect her things had been a painful experience, and she was glad that Gemma went with her. The Harrises had returned from their holiday by then, and although they made no comment, Alix could tell they were surprised to hear that she was leaving. They asked if she knew when Miss Layton would be returning, and she had to confess she had no idea.

She had wanted to start hunting for another job right away, and to answer some of the advertisements for girls to share flats, but Gemma wouldn't hear of it.

'Don't rush into anything,' she advised firmly. 'You're not flat broke, so take your time and look around.'

Alix had also been to visit Margaret in the hospital. She didn't go to the house again, but rang Philip Coulter at work and asked him to meet her. At first he had protested, saying that as far as he was concerned the house was still her home, but she had been quietly insistent that while Debbie's resentment and hostility persisted, she would keep away.

'But I very much want to see—' she hesitated. She had been going to say 'Mum', but substituted 'my aunt' instead. It sounded awkward and formal, but it was a curious situation to be in.

Philip sounded relieved. 'She's been hoping for a visit from you,' he said. 'She was very upset by Debbie's behaviour, naturally. I'd rather have kept it from her for a while, until she was completely over the operation, but it was impossible.' He paused. 'Alix dear, just because there was never an official adoption don't imagine we ever regarded you as anything Jess than ours. Nothing's really changed.'

She heard the affection and the anxiety in his voice, and agreed gently that nothing had changed, although she knew, as he must, that nothing could ever be the same again. Debbie was there like a barrier, and while both Philip and Margaret might deplore her conduct, she was nevertheless their own child, and Alix could not compete with her for their affection.

Margaret was making a good recovery, but she was still quite weak and inclined to be tearful when she saw Alix.

'I never thought it would turn out like this,' she said, holding Alix's hand. 'We'd been married quite a few years, and I'd begun to give up hope of having a baby. Bianca and I had never got on, not even as children, but when she came to see me—and begged me to help her— well, it seemed like a miracle. We went abroad together for a while, and then we came back without telling anyone except Philip and went up to Northumberland, and that's where you were born.' A reminiscent smile touched her lips. 'There was a little cottage hospital there, and the midwife came out of the delivery room and put you in my arms. You were so lovely. I felt so happy that it didn't seem that anything could ever go wrong, although Philip was dubious from the beginning.'

'Then why didn't you adopt me officially?' Alix asked.

Margaret shook her head. 'Bianca wouldn't agree. She wouldn't even discuss it. She said she'd given you to me, so what more did I want? She swore that she'd keep away, that she'd never make any claims on you, but I was always anxious. And then, as so often happens apparently, I found I was expecting Debbie.' She gave a little laugh. 'Two children to love, when I'd thought there wouldn't be any!' She sobered. 'And Bianca—all those marriages, and yet never a sign of another baby. It's sadly ironic.' She sighed. 'I suppose I knew all along that one day she'd come back. That she wouldn't be able to resist seeing you, discovering how you'd turned out. I saw her watching you that day, and I knew that somehow she was going to take you away from me.' She lifted a hand and touched Alix's cheek. 'That's what she's done as well, what I was so afraid of.'

'No,' Alix said quietly. 'She could never do that. All my earliest memories are of you—and—and Dad. How could she possibly expect ever to come first with me?'

Margaret's lips twisted ruefully. 'But she is your mother, Alix. She saw you first, held you first—chose your name…' her voice trailed away.

As you did for Debbie, Alix thought. She got up from her chair. 'You're looking tired, darling. I'd better go before sister scolds me.'

'Sister scolds everyone.' Margaret leaned back against her pillows. 'Look at my lovely flowers—the Mothers' Union sent them. And the plant is from Mrs Henderson next door.'

As Alix reached the door, she suddenly said, 'Don't hate her, darling. Being ill like this has made me see a lot of things more clearly. She wasn't being totally selfish. She didn't want you to grow up with a slur of illegitimacy about you. Even in these permissive days people don't approve of unmarried mothers. It was infinitely worse then, but I don't think Bianca realised until you were born how hard she was going to find it to give you up.'

Alix looked back gravely at the pale woman in the bed. 'I don't hate her,' she said. 'I never have—even in her worst moments. At times I've felt almost protective towards her, so it's ironic that I should now be the cause of all this trouble for her.'

'Because of this book, you mean,' Margaret said vaguely. 'Your father mentioned something about it— that the writer had been at the house that night. It's all most unfortunate. Will he use the information, do you suppose?'

'Oh, yes,' Alix said softly. 'Liam uses everything— and everyone.' For a moment she had an image of him, so blindingly vivid that he might have been standing beside her. She could almost feel the warmth of his body—taste the scent of his skin. Hurriedly she pulled herself together, making herself smile. 'I'll come and see you again in a few days.'

'Check before you do,' Margaret cautioned. 'I hope to be out of here before very long.' She smiled as she spoke, and Alix knew that in spite of the shock of her illness, and its consequences, the fabric of her life was still secure. She was thinking of her home, her husband, Debbie, and wanting to get back to them, and it gave Alix a greater than ever sense of isolation.

Even her stay with Gemma and David had brought its awkward moments. They had a good marriage and it showed in their jokes, their shared silences, the way they looked at each other, touched and smiled. Sometimes Alix was aware of an envy so deep that she had to turn away in case it showed nakedly on her face. How far she had sunk if she could actually be jealous of others' happiness, she thought bitterly.

Alix got up from her cushion, and drew the curtains to shut out the gathering darkness. She wasn't going to allow herself to sink into morbid self-pity, just because she was alone for an evening. She had a paperback thriller to read which actually seemed as if it was going to live up to its description, and later there was a play on television, a highly recommended repeat, which she had missed the first time around.

She switched on the television on her way back to the fireside, and found she had caught the last few minutes of a nightly magazine programme. She settled herself back on her cushion, reaching for her book, not really watching the screen, and only half listening to some Member of Parliament's opinion on a forthcoming by-election.

The interviewer was saying, 'We've been hearing about the possibility of a change of direction for a constituency, and today there's been news of a rather more personal change of direction for one of the great stars of our time.'

'Bianca Layton, it has been announced, has turned down the role of Francesca in the forthcoming film of that name—a part that was widely rumoured might well be the crown on a career which has established her as one of the most popular actresses on both sides of the Atlantic. Instead, the role will go to a young unknown— Paola Minozza—and Bianca has announced that she will be playing the part of Francesca's mother, Irene.'

'Good evening, Miss Layton,' he went on, turning in his chair. 'The news has caused something of a sensation, as you must be aware.'

The book slipped unnoticed from Alix's hand as she stared at the screen. Bianca was there, looking amazingly beautiful in a cream dress, with fox furs flung casually over her shoulder. She looked smiling and relaxed.

'I think a sensation must be rather an exaggeration,' she said. 'Yes, I've had a successful career, but it's also been a long one—too long, I feel, for me to play any more young girls with any degree of conviction.'

'Does that mean that you're abandoning your image as a sex-symbol?'

'It was never an image I consciously cultivated,' Bianca laughed, crossing exquisite legs. 'But who says that mature women can't be sexy? I'm sure there are a lot of wives, mothers—even grandmothers watching at this moment who could tell you a different story. I think it's time we all stood up and were counted.'

'What made you decide the time was ripe for a change?'

'I've had it in mind for some time,' Bianca said calmly. 'And during my reading of the
Francesca
script I became more and more attracted to playing Irene. It's a very strong role, written with great humanity and power, and it will be a considerable challenge after some of the lightweight material I've been offered in recent years. I've thoroughly enjoyed everything I've done,' she added, 'but I've now reached a stage where I need a change—perhaps even some serious purpose in my life. As you probably know, there's a book about my life and career in preparation at the moment, and this has caused me, naturally, to do some thinking about the past—and about the future too.' Her smile widened. 'You could say it's been a salutary experience.'

'So what are your immediate plans?'

'We're going to finish the book, I hope before filming starts on
Francesca
, and I plan to visit my family. I have a sister who's been ill, and I hope to spend some time with her. And…' she added with a mischievous upward look from beneath her lashes.

'And it's rumoured that there's a new romance in your life,' the interviewer prompted. 'Is it possible that you're going to take the plunge into matrimony again? You haven't had a great deal of luck with previous ventures.'

Bianca gave a deprecating shrug. 'I think I probably made my own luck. We're not making any definite announcement just yet, but I can say I'm very happy, and that I'm planning a wedding.'

'And are we allowed to speculate about the bridegroom's name?' The interviewer sounded arch.

'You could, but I can guarantee you'd be wrong,' Bianca returned. 'I can promise that the announcement when it comes will be a tremendous surprise.'

'We can hardly wait,' the interviewer said effusively. 'An intriguing note on which to end the programme. Thank you, Miss Layton.'

'Could I just add a personal note?' Bianca leaned forward, and the camera focussed on her in close-up, after a brief hesitation as if this unscripted addition had momentarily thrown a studio team, all geared up to roll the credits. Bianca was looking straight into the lens, and her green eyes were sparkling, but no longer with mischief. With something that looked incredibly like tears. She said, 'I have a message for my daughter—if she's watching. Alix—darling Alix, I need you. Please come back,' she ended on a husky note, as in the background the programme's signature tune could faintly be heard. The camera swung away, capturing for an instant the frozen look on the face of the interviewer, who had just realised that he had let the real sensation of the night get away. Then the figures faded into silhouette as the credits rolled over the screen.

Alix almost leapt across the room, her hand reaching shakily for the off button. As the screen went blank, she stood in front of the set trembling like a leaf.

She lifted her hand, and laid her fingers across the quiver of her lips.

How could Bianca have done such a thing? But of course, she knew how. She was an actress, and she was playing a scene. She wasn't going to wait for the book to come out. She had decided to break the news that she had a daughter in her own time, and her own way.

And she was planning a wedding. Alix felt a little groan rise in her throat, as she remembered every word Bianca had said, every look, every gesture. Everything had stated her total satisfaction, both physical and emotional, with the new man in her life—the man whose identity was being kept secret for the time being, but which would prove such a surprise when it was made public. The man who, after all, knew all her secrets, and would never therefore suffer disillusions.

She wondered numbly exactly how much younger than Bianca Liam was. Probably not a great deal more than ten years, and that was hardly a shattering difference in this day and age. Probably they were waiting for the book to be finished before they made the actual announcement. The book which had brought them together in spite of everything.