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Suddenly, desperately, she decided to tell Helen everything. She needed to relieve her bottled up emotions and Brad’s sister was the only person. Perhaps after all Helen would not be too upset over Philip’s proposal to Laura. It might be that she herself attached too much importance to it owing to her own unsettled state.

Her mind made up, she watched the 'time anxiously and as soon as it was one o’clock she left her office in search of Helen. She found her in her bedroom sorting through her wardrobe. An open case lay on her bed.

‘You’re not going?’ Disappointment sharpened her words. If Helen left it would be more than she could bear.

‘Only for the weekend,' laughed Helen. ‘Don’t look so worried. What are you doing here anyway? Isn’t it time for lunch?’

‘There’s something I must tell you—in private.'

Helen immediately stopped folding a dress and pointed to two chairs near the window.

‘Let’s sit down then you can fire away. I knew there was something wrong, the way you’ve been behaving these last few days. Is it Brad? He hasn’t reacted as you thought he would?’

‘Partly,’ said Laura, taking a deep breath. ‘But the truth is when I told Brad that Philip had asked me to marry him, I wasn’t lying.’

Helen’s face paled. ‘What do you mean? What are trying to tell me? That you’re really going to marry Philip?’ Her voice rose shrilly on these last words and Laura hastened to reassure her.

'No, no. It never came to that. You see I refused him. How could I say yes, knowing I loved Brad? But he asked me to think it over and I was on the verge of agreeing when he met you. I saw straight away how things were between you, and told him then that my answer was still no. I realise now that he never really loved me, Helen. We’re very good friends, but that’s all, and I hope you won't hold it against him?’ she finally pleaded.

The colour returned to Helen's face and she laughed. ‘Is that what’s worrying you ? I love Philip so much that I don’t think I care what’s happened in the past—but thanks for telling me—you didn’t have to.'

‘I did,' said Laura, 'for my own peace of mind, but that’s not all that’s bothering me. I—I don't think I can go on loving Brad and being the victim of his moods at the same time. It’s more than I can stand.'

‘Poor Laura!’ Helen laid an affectionate hand on her arm. ‘I wish there was something I could do. Have you told him you’re not really engaged?’

‘No. I wouldn’t gain anything by it, and it's an excuse for my low spirits. He asked me earlier what was the matter.'

‘That’s wonderful! It means he must care about you a little,' Helen smiled jubilantly.

‘About his work, you mean,' said Laura sadly. ‘That’s all he’s bothered about. No, I don’t think I’ll tell him yet, unless you and Philip want to get married, and then I’ll have to admit to deceiving him. If only I hadn’t signed that wretched contract I’d be away now.’

At that moment Jenny popped her head round the door. ‘There you are,’ she said crossly. ‘Don’t either of you want any lunch?’

‘Sorry, Jenny,’ said Helen brightly. ‘We’re just coming.’

Now that Laura had shared her problems she somehow felt easier, even though she was no nearer a solution. You couldn’t make a person love you, no matter how hard you tried. It was a matter of sticking it out to the end, and with Helen to talk to it would make things much easier.

Surprisingly, she ate all her lunch and managed to finish her work that afternoon without making a single mistake.

Saturday dawned and Brad joined the two girls for breakfast.

‘I’m glad you’re here, Brad,’ said Helen. ‘I’ve decided to spend the weekend in London with—with a friend, and I wondered if you’d run me into Shrewsbury? There’s a train at eleven.’

Brad frowned. ‘Are you sure you’re well enough to go gallivanting off? Shouldn’t you give it another week or two?’

'Of course I’m all right,’ said Helen airily. ‘The doctor told me not to sit around all day—which is virtually what I'm doing here.'

‘We-ell,’ Brad was still unsure. ‘There's not much I can say if you insist, hut unfortunately it’s Jarvis’s day off and I’m too busy to take you myself. You’d better ring for a taxi.’

‘I’ll take you,' interposed Laura hastily. 'I've nothing planned for today.’

‘The Mini’s in for repairs,’ said Brad. ‘Unless—do you think you could manage the Jag.’

Laura had never driven such a powerful car and was about to admit her doubts when Helen cut in: ‘Of course she can. It’s simple to handle. I can put her right if she’s in any difficulty and by the time we reach Shrewsbury she’ll be used to it—unless,’ she looked at her brother archly, ‘you’ll lend
me
the car and I’ll drive to London myself.'

Helen knew what she was doing, for Brad immediately said, ‘Oh no, you don’t—you're not up to driving yet. Laura can take you.’

Winking slyly at Laura, Helen got up and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, darling. Come on, Laura, let’s get going. I don’t want to miss that train.’

They collected their coats and Helen’s suitcase and were half way towards the garage at the side of the house when Brad called them. He held a bunch of keys in his hand. ‘You won t get far without these,' he drawled sarcastically. Laura felt her colour rise, expecting another caustic comment as she took them from him. She had been used to finding the keys left in the Mini and had automatically assumed the same as far as the Jaguar was concerned.

‘Drive carefully,’ he said quietly, to her complete amazement, but she doubted whether his concern was for herself. Naturally he was worried about Helen, but he was probably thinking more of his car than anything else, she decided unreasonably.

'I will. I may do some shopping and perhaps go to the cinema this afternoon, if you don’t need the car?'

‘Of course.' He was surprisingly agreeable. ‘Stay out as long as you like.'

She found the Jaguar easy to handle and after the first mile or two felt as though she had been driving it all her life. Helen was excited at the prospect of seeing Philip again, admitting to Laura that she was staying at his flat, and hardly stopped talking about him during the journey.

Laura waited until her train departed, then strolled leisurely round the shops. Christmas was only two weeks away and they were filled with colourful displays designed to tempt the most , cautious shopper. Laura wondered idly how Christmas would be spent at Leastone Hall. She couldn't imagine Brad dressing up the old house, or placing a tree in the great hall. He would probably work as usual, she supposed. Her mind slipped back to how it must have been years and years ago, with the house full of children. Presents piled beneath a huge tree, masses of holly everywhere, log fires crackling, laughing voices filling every corner.

Saddened by the changes the old house must have seen Laura felt tempted to buy some of the sparkling garlands and decorations, but remembering that she was only an employee and that Brad more than likely had very fixed ideas on how Christmas should be spent, she contented herself with purchasing one or two presents. A warm woollen scarf and gloves for Jenny, a leather handbag for Helen, a soft mohair sweater for herself. She bought Philip some cuff-links and debated whether to get Brad a present, deciding against it in the end. He was hardly likely to buy her one, and she did not want to cause embarrassment.

She had lunch and then went to see a James Bond film which, despite the fact that she had seen it before, she thoroughly enjoyed. It was dark when she came out, and trying to rain.

As she pulled out of the car park and headed back home Laura wondered how Helen and Philip were getting on. It really wasn't fair to keep up the story of her engagement. She would choose her time and tell Brad the truth; he could say what he liked. After all, it wouldn’t be long before she was gone.

Suddenly the car spluttered and coughed and came to a shuddering halt. Laura sat for a moment not fully comprehending what had happened. Then she unsuccessfully tried to start it again. Petrol, she thought, looking at the gauge, but it read half-full, so what then was the matter? The workings of an engine were a mystery to her, but nevertheless she found a torch in the glove compartment and after struggling to lift the bonnet carefully checked to make sure no leads had worked loose. So far as she could tell everything was in order, but the car still refused to start.

With a sinking feeling she weighed up the situation. There were no garages at all on this stretch of road and she could not recall seeing a telephone box. She was isolated, miles from anywhere.

She waited for a while ready to signal a passing motorist, but the road was deserted. Not many people came this way, it seemed, probably using the main road a few miles across country. It was unfortunate for her that Brad had chosen such a secluded place to live and she decided there was nothing for it but to start walking.

It was now raining heavily, and she pulled the collar of her coat tightly round her neck. Soon her hair was plastered to her head and the stinging rain ran in rivulets down her face. She was cold and uncomfortable and very annoyed. This would have to happen when she used the car, she grumbled, trudging along head bent. Brad would undoubtedly blame her. This was something else he could add to her ill-starred reputation.

Across the fields she suddenly saw a light twinkling. A farmhouse, she thought, or at least some sort of dwelling where she could get help.

Pushing open a heavy gate Laura stumbled through a muddy field in the direction of the light. As she neared she could see that her first guess had been right. A dog barked loudly as she crossed the yard, causing her to look round, startled. In the gloom she did not see the animal beneath her feet; she cried out sharply, feeling a searing pain in her arm as she fell.

 

'Don't try to move. The doctor will be here shortly.'

The friendly voice reached Laura from a distance as she struggled to rise. Obediently she lay still. A blurred figure gradually came into focus. A plump, homely woman, smothered in a huge flowered pinafore. Laura frowned and looked round. She was on a chintz-covered settee in a comfortable living-room. A fire blazed cheerfully and a dog lay sleeping on the hearth. As she looked he opened one eye, regarding her lazily. Remembrance came flooding back and she returned her gaze to the woman at her side.

‘Th-the car,’ she said. ‘It’s broken down.'

‘Never mind that now. George will see to it later.'

‘But I must let Brad know.' Laura winced at the pain in her arm, feeling a wave of nausea pass over her.

‘Later,' soothed the voice, which seemed to get further and further away, and Laura felt too weak to argue.

It was an age before the doctor finally arrived, a short, stocky man with a tight-lipped smile. He carefully examined her arm, pronouncing to Laura’s relief that there were no bones broken. Severe bruising, he said, which would be painful for the next few days, but otherwise she was okay. He gave her some tablets to ease the pain, took her name and address, and then was gone.

Laura sat up as the door closed, feeling stronger now and extremely worried about Brad’s can She looked at the clock ticking loudly on the shelf above the fire. Nearly nine o’clock. He must be wondering what had happened to her.

The plump woman returned carrying a cup of tea. "Drink this, love, and take two of those tablets.’

‘I’m being an awful nuisance,’ said Laura. 'I do apologise. I wanted to use your phone. The c-car’s down the road. I don't know what’s the matter with it.’

‘You couldn’t drive anyway, with that arm. I'll ask George to run you home in a minute—Leastone Hall, is it?’

‘That’s right. I work for Brad Stuart.’

The farmer's wife smiled broadly. ‘Ah, yes. A nice man. Would you like me to phone him and tell him you're here ?’

Please,’ said Laura, pondering over the fact that this woman knew Brad and found him likeable. He must save the aggressive side of his nature for me alone, she thought bitterly, finishing the tea and setting her cup and saucer down on the table.

She was standing by the fire when the older woman returned, staring bleakly at the flames.

‘There, I knew he’d be concerned. He's asked George to fetch him—says he thinks he knows what’s wrong with the car.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Laura. ‘Was he very cross?’

‘Not at all, love. More worried about you than anything else. Don’t you think you ought to be sitting down? You look very pale.’

‘I suppose so.’ Laura sank on to an armchair, aware that her legs were shaking and her heart had quickened its beats at the thought that Brad was coming to fetch her.

And he was concerned about her!'

This thought caused her to flush warmly, then the feeling receded, leaving a cold chill round her heart. He couldn’t possibly be concerned. Hadn’t he shown only too clearly how much he despised her, choosing every available opportunity to let her know this fact?

George’s wife kept up a constant stream of chatter and Laura answered at appropriate intervals, but her thoughts were constantly with Brad, her ears alerted for the first sounds of his arrival.

At last she heard the murmur of the Jaguar’s engine and its tyres swishing to a halt outside. ‘Here they are,' said the other woman, jumping up and hurrying to open the door.

Brad and a tall, ruddy-faced man entered. Laura looked up nervously, wondering what sort of reception she would get. After one quick glance in her direction he turned to the farmer’s wife. ‘Thank you, Mrs. Richardson, for looking after my secretary, and you, George, for fetching me. This would have to happen when my other car’s being repaired.'

‘Think nothing of it, Mr. Stuart. Glad to help a pretty lady.’ George looked admiringly at Laura.

‘If you’re ready, we’ll go,’ said Brad shortly.

It was doubtful whether the Richardsons noticed any difference in his voice, thought Laura, but she herself had. An ever so slight trace of his former hardness was there and his eyes were coldly impersonal as he watched her rise.

She thanked the farmer and his wife for their help and followed Brad outside to where the Jaguar waited. The car jolted over the cobbles and with each lurch her arm throbbed painfully, but Laura was determined not to let him see her discomfort and shrank back into her comer of the seat, biting her lip to prevent herself from crying out.

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