A Bad Enemy (23 page)

She almost missed the photograph, tucked away at the bottom of a page. It was the headline on the accompanying story which seized her attention. 'No more films for me, says sad Cindy.'

Cindy Leighton didn't look particularly sad. Her smile was aimed straight at the cameras which had met her at Heathrow, where she had landed from the States the day before, her film debut cancelled over problems with the financial backing.

Lisle stared down at the beautiful face, the wide eyes and provocatively parted lips.

'I've come back,' she'd told reporters, 'to pick up the threads of my life where I left off. To hell with Hollywood. Who needs it? '

Lisle drew a deep breath. 'I rather think I did,' she muttered shakily.

Fate, she thought, must be laughing up its sleeve at her. For Cindy to return at this particular time—if she was honest, at any time—was one of life's dirtiest tricks.

And she'd come back '
to pick up the threads'
.

And no doubt the main warp of that design would be Jake.

She looked down at the ring on her hand, trying to derive some comfort from that, but it glittered stonily back at her. It was a token, that was all, and a false token at that, because the bond it was meant to symbolise didn't even exist.

But it will, Lisle told herself. She got to her feet, tossing the newspaper back into the basket, her lips set, and her green eyes flashing fire back at the diamond on her finger.

I'll find him, she thought, and I'll tell him I'll marry him, and somehow I'll make him love me. I'll fill his life so full with passion and tenderness and laughter that there'll be no room for her.

She was through the outer office so fast, the girls hardly noticed her passing. In the street, she hailed a cruising cab with a feeling of thankfulness.

'Who says there are never taxis when you need them?' she thought as she gave the driver the address of Jake's flat.

He had either just arrived, or was just leaving, because his car was parked across the entrance.

Lisle's driver drew in at the other side of the road, and slid back the glass partition so that she could pay him.

As it turned out, Jake was leaving. He came out of the building, carrying a suitcase, and walked towards the car. Cindy Leighton was with him, walking at his side, her arm hugging his with open possession, her mane of blonde hair gleaming in the thin winter sunlight.

She looked as if she had the world at her feet. Lisle's world.

She sat unmoving in the taxi, and watched them drive away together.

'Are you sure you're all right?' Janie asked for perhaps the seventh time.

'Yes, of course.' Lisle smiled steadily. 'I just need to get away for a few days, that's all. It's very good of Graham to lend me the cottage.'

Janie shrugged. 'Well, he and Sally rarely use it after October. He told me that you were to finish up anything left in the freezer. He thinks there's some fish and a couple of chickens. You can buy your vegetables locally.'

Lisle looked down at the things she was packing. 'I don't suppose I shall be doing much cooking.'

Janie gave her an alarmed look. 'But you must eat! You'll make yourself ill, otherwise, and the cottage is pretty isolated.' She bit her lip. 'In fact the more I think about it, the less it seems a good idea. Why don't you get some winter sunshine instead? Grab a package tour of some kind—go somewhere cheerful—meet people. What good is it going to do to vanish into the depths of the country and brood?'

Lisle folded a blouse fiercely. 'None whatever, probably. But it's what I want, Janie. It's what I need. I want to be somewhere no one can find me.'

'And who is included under the heading of no one?' Janie asked.

Lisle's mouth tightened. 'Everyone, I suppose. Please don't tell Gerard for a start.'

'I've no intention of doing so,' Janie said calmly. 'He'd derive far too much satisfaction from the situation. As far as he's concerned, you've gone away by, yourself for a few days to think things out.' She paused. 'And if Jake Allard starts making enquiries— what then?'

'It's hardly likely.' Lisle's voice shook a little. 'He's occupied in other directions, remember?'

'As if I could forget,' Janie muttered. 'I'll never get over the way you looked when you came into the office. For a moment I hardly recognised you.'

'I've hardly recognised myself for quite a while,' Lisle said drily. 'It was good of Graham to give you the rest of the afternoon off.'

'He was as worried as I was. He doesn't know about the Leighton woman, of course. I told him you were still suffering the emotional after-effects of losing your grandfather.' She hesitated. 'Lisle, why don't you stay here—at the Priory?'

Lisle shook her head. 'Because I can't lose myself here. As soon as Gerard reads the note I left him, he'll be telephoning here, probably wanting to come down. I don't want anyone to find me—especially the Press, if the story of Jake's reunion with Cindy Leighton gets out.'

'I hadn't thought of that,' Janie conceded. She sighed. 'But I'm still not sure whether running away is the right thing to do. Why not stay and fight?'

'Because I don't think I'd win.' Lisle fastened the case. 'I seem to have done nothing but pack and unpack for weeks. It will be nice just to—settle for a little while.'

'Well, you keep listening to the wireless, and if they forecast snow, get out fast,' Janie advised dourly.

Lisle hugged her impulsively. 'Janie, you've been an angel. I don't know what I'd have done without you. I—I hate unloading my troubles on to you like this…'

'Rubbish,' Janie said roundly, returning the hug. 'You can return the favour some day.'

'I hope it won't be necessary,' Lisle gave her a long look.

Janie shrugged. 'I hope not too, but I'm counting on nothing,' she countered with a little crooked smile.

'Gerard is still using my shoulder to cry on at the moment. Perhaps there'll come a time when he discovers I have other uses. That, or another Carla Foxton will come along,' she added candidly.

Two hours later, Lisle had reached the cottage. It was more than a mile from the nearest village, reached by a very narrow lane, and she eased the Mini along carefully, hoping she wouldn't meet another vehicle round the next bend.

It was a pretty place, she decided, as she parked the car. Built of old mellow brick, its low slate roof, encrusted here and there with lichen, swooped down over narrow casement windows set under gables. There was a small, overgrown garden at the front, and an orchard at the rear leading down to a stream.

As lisle walked up the path to the front door, she could hear the beguiling sound of running water. But not much else. If she had come to find peace and quiet, certainly it was waiting for her there.

The cottage itself smelt musty, having been closed up for several weeks, but there was no telltale smell of damp. Graham, and his wife, spent most of their weekends there, Lisle knew, and had spent a considerable amount on restoration and modernisation.

The kitchen and tiny bathroom paid tribute to their efforts, she thought, as she looked around, and the furnishing and decoration contributed strongly to the character of the place.

There were three bedrooms upstairs, and Lisle chose the smallest, normally used by Joanna, Graham's teenage daughter. The walls were checkered with posters of pop stars, and there were books, many of which Lisle herself had owned when she was younger, crammed on to the deep windowsill.

Lisle had stopped in the village and bought some milk, eggs and bread, and she put these away in the kitchen, before unbolting the back door and taking a look at the rest of her small domain.

There was a good store of wood under cover at the rear, and she filled a basket with logs and kindling and carried it back into the house to light the woodstove which warmed the living room. It was soon crackling cheerfully, and she made toast and scrambled a couple of eggs she had bought, eating the simple meal beside the stove, with the first book, of Tolkien's
Lord of the Rings
propped up beside her as she ate. It was a favourite of hers, and she had read it several times before, but the adventures and perils of the hobbits and their companions failed to exercise their usual magic.

All she could see in her mind's eye was Cindy Leighton's blonde head close to Jake's dark one, and her triumphant smile.

I haven't really run away at all, she thought, because I've brought them with me.

There was no television at the cottage, but she switched on the radio and listened to a play, and then some music. And when she mounted the stairs to her small room with its sloping ceiling, there was the distant rush of the stream to soothe her, if not to sleep, then at least to a semblance of tranquillity.

The weather was mild and damp, and she took the opportunity of working in the garden, weeding, tidying and tying back. It was one way, she thought, of thanking Sally and Graham for allowing her to stay there, because Graham had refused point blank to accept any kind of rent from her.

No one came. Once two magpies perched on the fence and watched her.

'One of you shouldn't be there,' she told them as she went indoors to make herself some coffee.

The postman came, bringing the usual clutch of circulars for the occupier, and a letter from Janie for Lisle. It was brief cheerful and chatty, but it was the laconic postscript which made Lisle think. It said simply, 'Enquiries about you are being pursued. My lips are sealed.'

Lisle sighed. Bless you, Janie, she thought.

By the fourth day, the damp weather had deteriorated into a steady downpour which showed no signs of easing. Lisle banked up the stove and went into the village for supplies. She dawdled over her shopping, buying spices and cream to make the thawing chicken back at the cottage more interesting, and treating herself to a bottle of wine from the post office, which doubled as an off-licence.

She had just turned into the lane on her way back when she realised a car was following her.

Her first thought was that it was a mistake. The lane led nowhere except to the cottage.

Her second, shattering realisation was that it was Jake's car.

Lisle swallowed, her hands tightening on the wheel, then she put her foot down and her own vehicle leapt forward.

And if we meet a tractor, she thought hysterically, then it's just too bad.

But the lane was deserted as usual. She braked recklessly outside the cottage, and almost flung herself out of the car, leaving her shopping where it was, her one intent to get into the house and lock herself in.

But the path was slippery with rain, and she slipped and fell down on to one knee, costing herself any headway she had made against him.

Jake took her by the shoulders and lifted her to her feet.

'Little fool!' His voice was bleak with rage. 'I'll take that.'

With one swift movement, he had dispossessed her of the key. Holding her firmly by the arm, he marched her to the front door.

Lisle struggled unavailingly. 'Let go of me!'

'Make me,' he suggested. He opened the door and thrust her roughly inside. 'Or better still, get your lover to do it. Where is he, by the way? Still sleeping off the pleasures of last night?'