Unguarded Moment (8 page)

She relaxed again, pillowing her turban-swathed head on her folded arms, and Monty returned to her task, the soothing firmness of her hands at variance with the set grimness of her mouth.

'Since when have we been going to Italy?' Alix felt utterly bewildered.

'Since yesterday lunchtime.' Bianca's smile reflected the satisfaction of the cat who hasn't even had to steal the cream but has been offered it on a saucer. 'I've had an invitation from darling Carlo to go and stay with him in His villa outside Rome.' Her smile widened. 'And you know what that means—that I'm definitely going to play Francesca. My God, won't there be some wailing and gnashing of teeth when the word gets out!'

There probably would be at that, Alix thought. The role of Francesca was one of the cinema plums of the year, and the search for the right actress to play the part had been a publicity man's dream. Bianca had known for some time that she was on an unofficial short list, and she had been expecting the director Carlo Veronese to visit London in the next few weeks to make his decision.

'Leon told me at lunch that he wants to discuss the script with me,' Bianca said smugly. 'He feels that if we go and stay at the villa, it will provide a more relaxed atmosphere.' She stretched luxuriously. 'God, do I feel good this morning!'

'Keep still, then,' Monty said dourly. 'That's if you want to look good as well.'

Bianca laughed. 'Old grouch!'

Her good humour revealed how deeply the invitation from Carlo Veronese had reassured her, Alix thought. It had been by no means certain that she would get the part of Francesca. A number of other actresses had been under consideration, most of them a great deal younger than Bianca, but without her experience in films. Yet there would have to come a time when experience no longer counted, when the public, however devoted, would react with scepticism to an actress who had been a star for so many years attempting to play a young girl.

Alix knew that Seb had been worried about this for some time, although he had never dared tackle Bianca directly on the subject.

'Looking ageless—which admittedly she does—simply isn't enough any more. You have to
be
young these days, not merely look it. The people who still go to the cinema are more selective than they used to be—and more cynical,' he had said worriedly only a few months before when the possibility that Bianca might play Francesca had first been mooted.

Alix could understand why Bianca coveted the role. It was a reversion to the kind of dramatic, passionate woman's film that Bette Davis and Joan Crawford had made so successful, the novel from which it had been adapted having shot to the top of the bestsellers' list in spite of the sneers of the critics.

It was unashamed escapism, she supposed, because it was set among the wealthy and powerful, yet its theme was the exploitation of women, and the bitter ending had a certain harsh realism. It was a powerful story which would undoubtedly adapt well to strong visual terms.

Nor was there any doubt that Francesca was a young woman's role, taking the character as it did from naive girlhood to the strength and disillusion of the early thirties. It was the kind of part that was every actress's dream. And Carlo Veronese was one of those directors whom every actress wanted to work for.

His films usually enjoyed a high degree of success, artistically as well as at the box office. Yet he had a predilection for discovering young and unknown actresses, rather than using established stars, and Bianca could regard the fact that his choice had fallen on her for Francesca as a feather in her cap.

With an effort Alix switched her attention back to what Bianca was saying. Normally she would have made the travel arrangements for the journey, but this was being done by Leon's office as he would be accompanying them.

'You can tell the Harrises that they can have a vacation,' Bianca said carelessly. 'I'll close the house up for a while, because after Italy we'll be going on to America. All the location work will be done there.'

Alix heard her with some dismay. She wasn't sure she wanted to be away from England for such a long time. She needed a period of adjustment to get back on terms with her family again. If it was her frequent absences which had made her relationship with them so strained, then another lengthy time abroad wasn't going to help.

Carefully she asked, 'Are you sure you need me to go with you?'

Bianca lifted her head sharply, her satisfied smile disappearing as if it had been wiped from her face. 'Of course I do. What the hell's the matter with you, girl? Just because we're related it doesn't mean that you can treat your work lightly. You're my secretary, in case it had slipped your mind. There'll be plenty for you to do.'

Alix saw a grim smile flicker briefly over Monty's features as she adjusted the towels which covered Bianca and began to massage her neck with practised, skilful fingers.

She doesn't just resent me, she thought unhappily. She really enjoys hearing me taken to task. Surely she knows by now that Bianca makes no real allowances for the fact that we're related. She has nothing to fear from me. She has a special relationship with Bianca which no outside intervention can damage, and she must know that.

She said quietly, 'I'm sorry, Bianca. I'll go and deal with the mail.' She hesitated. 'If—if Mr Brant should telephone, what do you want me to say to him?'

'Just put him through to me.' Bianca began to smile again, her expression openly sensuous. 'I'll talk to him.'

Alix guessed that the Italian trip would be a well-kept secret from Liam Brant until Bianca chose to reveal it. And undoubtedly she would have her own way of making up to him for his disappointment over the commission, she thought detachedly. What a fool she had been to imagine for one moment that Bianca needed her protection! She had her own methods of dealing with any threats that came along. Her earlier panic when she had ordered Alix to get rid of Liam Brant seemed to have been altogether forgotten. Clearly she found him less formidable in the flesh than he was by reputation, but was she right in this?

Alix shrugged mentally as she made her way downstairs to her office. The matter was out of her hands anyway, and she ought to be thankful for it. Her miserable, restless night had alarmed her. It was so out of character. A disturbing influence like Liam Brant was the last thing she needed in her life, particularly when it was so obvious that he was to be Bianca's perquisite. She had come very close to making an utter fool of herself, and although she couldn't welcome this trip to Italy, at least it might help to restore her normal equilibrium.

The next ten days seemed to fly past. Alix determinedly kept herself as busy as possible, and took care to be out of the way if she even suspected that Liam Brant was to be a visitor at the house. Bianca rarely mentioned him, but she too had her preoccupations. She was bored with her current wardrobe, and was busy amassing a pile of new clothes in which she was to impress Carlo Veronese. She was also being almost neurotic over her weight and appearance, and actually took off for a few days at an expensive health farm.

Monty was not pleased by this, and as usual when Bianca had done something she disapproved of, came as close to unbending to Alix as she was ever likely to.

'She doesn't need to lose as much as an ounce,' she said, thin-lipped. 'She'll make herself ill if she's not careful, and then where will we all be?'

She glared at Alix as if the health farm had been her idea.

Alix smiled temperately. 'Perhaps she's being a bit obsessive at the moment, but it's easy to understand why. This Francesca thing means such a hell of a lot to her.'

'I know that.' Monty's brow was creased with sudden anxiety. 'Only too well I know it! She wants to be a girl again.' She stopped suddenly as if she was aware of saying too much, and that Alix was the enemy within the gate.

As she still seemed to be in her own home. She had made a point of visiting her family several times, trying not to be hurt at the coolness of the welcome she received. She and her father had never been particularly close, as she had often realised, so she could not complain of any change in his attitude, but she was increasingly concerned about her mother. Margaret Coulter looked more tired each time she went, and seemed to be retreating into some inner kingdom where no one could follow. And Debbie's hostility hadn't abated one jot, she discovered to her dismay. To be sure, her sister was immersed in the details for her wedding, and had little time to spare for discussion about anything else, but there had been a time when Debbie would have shared her plans and excitement with her sister. As it was, Alix knew she was being deliberately excluded.

It was upsetting to realise that she was far more welcome at Gemma's than she was in her own home. She had now met Gemma's husband, who was large, genial and easygoing, and found herself envying the evident satisfaction they derived from their relationship.,

She confided to Gemma her growing concern about her mother.

'I asked her if she'd thought of seeing a doctor, and she almost bit my head off,' she said ruefully. 'She doesn't seem to have any energy, and that isn't like her. I tried to drop a hint to Debbie, but she implied I was making a fuss about nothing, and that it wasn't really my business anyway. I don't know what to do.'

'You can't really do anything.' Gemma added washing up liquid to a sinkful of hot water, and swished it into lather. 'You can't force her to see a doctor if she doesn't want to, and there may be nothing the matter with her. Debbie's wedding might be making her a bit uptight. Had you thought of that?'

'You're probably right, but I just feel so—helpless, I suppose.' Alix could not suppress a pang as she mentally contrasted Margaret's rather grey-looking skin and shadowed eyes with Bianca's radiant appearance, fresh from her health farm.

She'd tried to suggest gently to her mother that a week or two in a similar establishment would be of benefit to her, but Margaret had dismissed, the idea out of hand.

'No doubt it's kindly meant, but I have no inclination to go to a place like that, or time to waste either,' she had said shortly, and Alix had been made to feel tactless for having mentioned it.

'Do you want me to keep an eye on her while you're away?' Gemma rinsed glasses under the tap and put them on the draining board.

'I'd be so grateful.' Alix's eyes shone. 'But it's difficult. I don't really know where I'll be, or how you can get in touch with me.'

'I don't for one moment suppose I shall need to,' Gemma pointed out good-temperedly. 'I'm just trying to put your mind at rest, so that you can enjoy Italy.'

Alix sighed. 'I keep telling you, I'm not going there to enjoy myself. I'm going to work. Bianca expects her pound of flesh, whatever the setting.'

'All the same, you wouldn't swap with me,' Gemma grinned.

'Who says?' Alix retorted instantly, but in her heart she knew that Gemma was right. The girl she had been might once have been contented with the small semidetached house, the amiable husband dozing in front of the television, but no longer.

She wasn't even sure about marriage any more. In the circles in which she now moved it seemed little more than a transitory experience. When she had first joined Bianca's menage, her aunt was still married to Lester Marchant, and apparently happy, yet little more than a year later they had separated, and divorce—Bianca's fourth—had soon followed.

'Marriage is like a disease,' Bianca had once said petulantly. 'Thank God there's a cure.'

She had shown no signs of becoming involved in another serious relationship since Lester's departure, however. But there had been numerous casual affairs. Bianca was not a woman who could be without a man for very long.

And Alix wondered if it was not significant that the lovers she had chosen since this last divorce were not solid older men like Lester, but usually very much her junior. It was as if Bianca was constantly seeking reassurance that she was still beautiful, still desirable in spite of the passage of the years no one was even allowed to mention.

And perhaps it was watching Bianca, absorbing her example, which had made Alix herself so wary in her relationships, at least until recently.

Try as she might, there were times—in dreams, and in unguarded waking moments—when Liam Brant's dark cool mockery returned to haunt her. No amount of shame or self-admonition was sufficient, it seemed, to wipe his image totally from her mind, and this realisation bewildered and tormented her.

Gemma asked, 'What on earth are you thinking about? You looked positively haunted for a moment!'

Alix made herself smile. 'I suppose I am—by the thought of everything that has to be got through before this trip. Leon's office may be making all the arrangements for the journey, but there are still a hundred and one things Bianca wants me to do, and the fact that she changes her mind constantly about each of them doesn't make life any easier.'

She chattered on, making Bianca's vagaries sound amusing, deliberately shutting out of her mind the difficulties that her employer constantly seemed to create, the barbed remarks which so often seemed to enter her conversations with Alix these days.

Alix supposed she herself was partly to blame because she had disregarded Bianca's instructions about her appearance, and it was this subject at which most of Bianca's gibes were aimed.

Not that she'd gone overboard, she thought ruefully, but she'd had her hair cut so that it could no longer be screwed back into that frankly unbecoming chignon. Now it swung dark and glossy as a raven's wing, curving towards her jawline, accentuating her high cheekbones, and the delicate hollows of her throat. She wasn't a beauty and never would be in Bianca's terms, but she had her own attractions and could see no valid reason to conceal them any longer.

Bianca had been so angry at first that Alix had quite expected her attempt to hand in her notice would be reciprocated. In fact the anger seemed totally out of proportion to the offence—but then so much of Bianca's behaviour was irrational, Alix reminded herself.

She had encountered unexpected sympathy from Monty, who had said gruffly, 'Leave her to me. I'll settle her down,' and had apparently done so, because the next time Alix had ventured into Bianca's presence the hectic flush had died out of her cheeks, and the stormy light in her eyes had been stilled.