Authors: Charlotte Lamb
'You need to unwind,' he coolly decided for her. 'After a performance you're always on a high. What you need is a little company and good food.'
'Don't tell me what I need!' she muttered. 'What would you know about it, anyway? Have you ever put a foot on a stage?'
'I've heard Joey Ross talking about it,' Laird informed her firmly. 'Stop arguing, woman, and let yourself be spoiled.'
Patti looked from one to the other, her expression worried. 'Don't you like Greek food, Anna?'
Anna gave in, sighing. 'I love it, I just thought I ought to get some sleep, that's all.'
'You can sleep tomorrow as late as you like,' Laird told her in his high-handed way, and she gave him a sideways look of extreme irritation.
'Yes, sir, of course, sir,' she said, but made no impression on that thick hide. He just grinned in amusement as he pulled up outside the restaurant.
'That's better,' he said with satisfaction.
'I thought you'd like it.' If Anna hoped to wipe the smug grin off his face she was disappointed. Her sarcasm only made him laugh.
'All work and no play, Anna, will make you more and more tired and in the end it will wreck your acting. You have to take time off occasionally, relax and enjoy yourself, put back in what you've been giving out night after night.'
Patti nodded vigorously, her eyes on Anna's face, and Anna gave a wry smile as she followed them into the Greek restaurant. She regretted quarrelling with Laird in front of Patti; it had upset his half-sister, and Anna didn't want to worry Patti. The girl was surprisingly sensitive to atmosphere and shrank from loud voices and frowns, perhaps because she had seen so little of either in her own home. Patti's parents were calm and peaceful people, especially her mother. Naomi Montgomery might be years younger than her husband, but she had such a warm and gentle personality that when you were with them both you forgot the large age gap between them. Brought up in that cloudless household, Patti was unused to the rough and tumble of noisy discussion and argument.
Laird was right about the food in the Greek restaurant; it was particularly good and Anna enjoyed it more than she had expected. She had vine leaves stuffed with a mixture of rice and vegetables, followed by souvlakia, a lamb dish she had never tried before but which seemed rather less indigestible than the alternative—a dish of squid with rice which she was sure would give her nightmares at this time of the evening. Laird had the squid and, noticing the fascinated repulsion with which she stared at his plate, asked teasingly if she would like to try some.
'No, thanks,' said Anna, shuddering, it looks as if it might slither off the plate any minute and come and get me!'
'What a dramatic life you lead,' Laird mocked, eyeing her through his lashes. 'Such narrow escapes from all these threats which seem to surround you! If it isn't men trying to grab you, it's monsters from the deep.' He slid a fork under a squid tentacle and waved it at her.
Patti giggled. Anna bared her teeth at him. 'Very funny,' she said her face flushed, her heart thumping behind her breastbone in a distinctly nervy way. Did he have to make that pointed comment when Patti was sitting there listening? Anna hated to remember the stupid conclusions she had jumped to—he must think she was very naive and unsophisticated^ wide- eyed innocent. That was how she had seen Patti—she hadn't dreamt it could apply to herself, it was horribly embarrassing to admit what a fool she had been, but she hadn't any experience to compare it with/had she? If she had ever been to bed with a man she would have known, presumably.
Her brow wrinkled. But how? she wondered, getting even more pink. She had an intensely vivid memory of how she had felt next day; she had been so sure that while she was too drunk to remember it Laird had made love to her. It had all been in her own mind, though. She believed Laird, and yet her unconscious had conjured up such powerful images of them making love that it was hard to admit it had all been her own imagination.
Did I dream them? she wondered, her pulses beating wildly at wrist and throat. Is that what happened? That night I dreamt about him, dreamt he made love to me, and woke up convinced it had really happened because there he was in bed next to me, just as he had been in the dream? The human mind led a life of its own, Joey Ross had said to the cast only that morning in rehearsal. If her mind was leading a secret life, Anna blushed to imagine what it got up to, and she was very glad Laird could not see inside her head. Those cool, intelligent eyes didn't have X-ray vision. Or did they? she thought as she met them across the table and saw the smile glimmering in them.
'What's funny?' she asked suspiciously.
'You have such an expressive face,' he drawled. 'I've been trying to work out what you've been thinking—you've scowled and grimaced in the most extraordinary way. Let us in on the secret.'
'You wouldn't like it if I told you,' Anna said, tossing back her cloudy red hair in defiance. She had no intention of giving away anything more to him—Laird already had far too much knowledge of the way her mind worked. That made her very uneasy.
Deliberately changing the subject, she asked him, 'What will happen to the rocking horse when the contents of the house are sold?'
He smiled at her, his hard face relaxed and almost tender. 'Worried about it? Were you thinking of putting in a bid?'
'I suppose it would be expensive?'
'Oh, it should go for quite a high figure,' Laird agreed. 'It's Victorian and very sought-after. Toys can be collectors' items these days.' His eyes held a gentle amusement. 'But it won't be up for auction with the rest of the furniture—I'm keeping it, for old times' sake. I've already had a few things transferred to the penthouse, the ones I can't bear to part with.'
Anna watched him intently. 'I thought you said the toys in the nursery were for Patti's children?'
'What?' asked Patti, sitting up and laughing. 'Give me a chance! It will be years before I think about having any kids.
'Exactly,' Laird drawled. 'And in the meantime, I'll give a home to my favourites from the nursery.'
'He had a whole vanload of stuff taken to his place,' Patti told Anna. 'Teddy bears and tin soldiers . . . '
'I thought you weren't sentimental,' Anna teased, and he gave her a sardonic glance.
'They're an investment, as I said—toys are valuable antiques when they're that old.' He gestured to her coffee. 'Are you going to drink that? We ought to be leaving soon, it's getting late.' His manner made it clear that the subject was closed. Laird was not going to admit to any sentimental fondness for such childish things as rocking horses and teddy bears. That might spoil his self-image; ruin his reputation for being a tough, hard-headed businessman.
Anna's green eyes mocked him, but she said nothing more. She was glad to hear that the rocking horse he called Dandy had not been scheduled for auction.
When Laird dropped her at her flat he murmured, 'Enjoyed yourself after all? I told you you would, didn't I?'
'And you're always right, of course,' Anna jeered, fleeing before he could answer, but the trouble was, she thought as she tried to get to sleep that night, she
hade
njoyed herself! Far too much! The more she saw of Laird the harder she found it to expel his image from her heart. He threatened her peace of mind.
'I've got to do something about that man!' she told herself sternly, turning over restlessly in an attempt to settle down to sleep.
She slept late next morning and woke to find the room full of bright sunlight and the sound of birds. Drowsily, she leaned on her windowsill and watched a man in the street cleaning his car, some children playing on bikes, two women talking on their doorsteps. Sunday morning was always quiet in this street because so many of the residents worked hard all week and preferred to sleep late on a Sunday.
With reluctance, Anna went to have a bath and get dressed, then put on a jacket and went for a walk in the local park to feed the squirrels, buying a bag of peanuts from a vendor at the gate who overcharged her, of course.
'How much?' she asked, incredulous, and he shrugged.
'Take it or leave it, love. Plenty of customers around!' As she threw nuts to a bushy-tailed grey squirrel a few minutes later, Anna was forced to realise how right he was. The spring sunshine had brought dozens of people out to the park with thesame idea as herself. All the paths between the trees were crowded with people hoping to entice the squirrels, taking snapshots of them as they scurried up and down trees and paused to sit up, their tiny paws gripping a nut while they neatly nibbled away at it. Anna had never been allowed to have a pet and had always yearned to have one. She might resent being grossly overcharged by the peanut vendor, but it gave her quite a kick to watch the bright-eyed little creatures so close to her and she was angry when three teenage boys ran up, shouting, deliberately frightening the squirrels back up their trees.
'Why did you do that?' she snapped, turning on the boys, who jeered at her. One reached out and grabbed the bag of nuts she held and ran off with it. Flushed and furious, Anna pursued him and his friends along the leafy path and through the formal flower garden by the lake. They darted out of the elaborate ironwork gates and Anna followed, gradually gaining on them, although she wasn't sure what she would do if she caught up. It made her even angrier to find herself crunching over nut shells and to know that as they ran the boys were eating her peanuts. They kept looking back and grinning as they chucked peanut shells down, without slackening their pace.
She finally came within touching distance of them and with a furious leap grabbed one by his jacket. He turned and hit out at her, kicking her at the same time, and his friends halted and ran back to launch an attack too.
Anna could have coped with one of them, but all three Were too much for her. She was so busy fending them off that she didn't notice the blue and silver Rolls or hear the screech of the tyres as the driver jammed on his brakes. The first she knew of Laird's arrival was when two of her attackers fled. She was still holding the third by his jacket, her face pink with anger and exertion, her green eyes spitting fury.
Laird removed him and gripped him by the shoulder in a punishing hold which made the boy wriggle sullenly. However, he summed Laird up in one lightning glance that absorbed his height and muscle and decided a struggle would be useless and very probably unpleasant.
'What the hell's going on?' Laird demanded as Anna blinked at him in surprise.
'I was feeding the squirrels in the park and they ran up and scared them off, and then they stole my bag of peanuts and they . . .
'I didn't do nothing!' the boy yelled. 'Leggo, you big brute . . . '
'Ate them all,' Anna ended, her eyes following the betraying trail of peanut shells leading back to the park gates.
'I'll tell my mum,' the boy threatened, twisting in Laird's grasp.
'It's against the law to drop litter in a public place,' Laird said. 'Now, you'll pick up everyone of those nutshells and drop them into the litter bin at the park gates.'
'Like hell!' the boy sneered, darting forward, but the strong hand clenched on his shoulder again and he winced. 'Who d'you think you are?'
'Come on,' said Laird, propelling him towards the nearest scattering of shells. Anna stood and watched as the boy reluctantly picked up the shells until he reached the park gates where Laird watched him shed them all into the litter bin. The boy was then marched back to Anna.
'Tell the lady you're sorry,' ordered Laird.
'Sorry, lady,' the boy muttered sulkily.
'Graciously said,' Laird told him with sarcasm. 'Now, clear off, and in future behave yourself in the park. What's funny about ruining other people's enjoyment? Can't you find something better to do?'
'Like what?' sneered the boy. 'And anyway, we was only having a bit of fun—she didn't want those nuts, she was feeding them to the squirrels anyway, why'd she chase after us and make all that fuss?'
Laird had let go of him; he began to run, turning once to make a very rude gesture towards them before pelting off at top speed.
Laird looked drily at Anna. 'He has a point—why did you chase after them?'
'I was annoyed!'
He considered her, lifting one hand to brush down some of her windblown, cloudy red hair. 'You're crazy, you know that? When I saw you running after those boys, I thought you looked no older than they were—when are you going to grow up? You're a female Peter Pan.'
She knew she must look very dishevelled in her old blue jeans and green sweater, with shabby track shoes on her feet, but she still bristled. 'What are you doing in this neighbourhood, anyway?'
'I was bored, so I came to see you,' Laird said pleasantly, and she glared at him.
'Oh,-thanks! I've got better things to do than amuse you whenever you're bored! And I'm not dressed for visiting your home, anyway, so if you're here to invite me to lunch . . . '
'I'm not. We're going on a picnic,' he said, taking her by the arm and relentlessly inserting her into the front of the Rolls in spite of her efforts to escape. He clipped the safety belt around her, saying, 'And stay there!' as he shut the door. Anna didn't have time to free herself before he was behind the wheel and the smooth purr of the engine started a second later.
'It can't be much fun for those hoys, living around here,' Laird thought aloud as he drove off. 'Any more than it is for you. Is that how you usually spend your Sundays? Walking in the park, feeding the squirrels?'
'Sometimes I take a bus to the Tate Gallery or the National Gallery. I like looking at the pictures, and it's free. There are lots of free things to do in London on a Sunday—if the weather's fine,' Anna said soberly, then added, 'Take me home, I'm not going on a picnic with you! I've got other plans.'
'And Parsons went to so much trouble, too! After I'd told him who the picnic was for, that is—you've made a conquest there. I never knew the old man had such a soft spot for green eyes.' Laird gave her a glinting sideways smile.
Anna was touched but said defiantly, 'I like him.'