Read A High Price to Pay Online
Authors: Sara Craven
Oh God, what am I going to do now?'
In spite of the pain she was feeling, Alison experienced a pang of
sympathy for her sister. Melanie was so young, so vulnerable to be
passionately involved with someone like Nick. He was in love with
her now, but would it last?
She said quietly, 'It—seemed better if he went. But I'm sure he'll be in
touch with you.'
'In touch?' Melanie echoed incredulously. 'What the hell is the use of
that? I need him here.' She paused, then said awkwardly, 'There's
something he wants to talk to you about—something you may not
like, but—oh, Ally, I'm sure it's for the best in the long run. Things
can't go on as they are, and you look so pale and tired. I know you're
not happy.'
'No.' Alison summoned up a smile from somewhere. 'No, I haven't
been happy, but you won't make my mistakes.'
'Well, I don't think I'd have taken the whole thing on in the first place,'
Melanie said. 'Although at the time, I must say it was a relief. But we
should have known it wouldn't work.'
'No.' Alison swallowed. 'Mel, I'd rather not talk about this now.
I—I've spoken to Nick, of course, and told him that I know what's
been—happening, and that I won't make waves, and I promise you
the same thing—only I'd prefer not to discuss it any further now.'
Melanie grimaced. 'I'm afraid you're going to have to,' she said,
glancing rather distractedly at her watch. 'And if you've talked
everything over with Nick, I'm amazed he didn't tell you about the
driving lessons. Oh, damn Nick! Why the hell did he have to go
haring off back to London, and leave us to face the music? Mother's
bound to make a scene when she finds out, but she wouldn't have
dared if Nick had been here.'
'I won't let her,' promised Alison. 'I won't let her be angry with
you—either of you.'
'Hm.' Melanie pulled another face. 'Don't think you'll get away
unscathed either. She'll probably tell you that you've betrayed
her—that we all have. But honestly. Ally, I know we're doing the
right thing.'
'Please.' Alison was shocked at the sudden violence in her voice. 'I've
told you—I can't talk about it now. Do you think I have no feelings at
all?'
Melanie suddenly looked very young and very vulnerable. 'That's the
last thing I'd ever have thought,' she said in a small voice. 'I know
what Ladymead means to you.' Ladymead?' Alison laughed harshly.
'Do you think that's all I care about? My God, there are times I wish
the place had burned to the ground!'
Melanie's face cleared a little. 'Well, that's what I told Nick. I said I
was sure when it came down to it you'd feel like that. But Nick wasn't
certain and ...'
'Nick—Nick—Nick!' Alison's voice cracked. 'Do you have to keep
saying his name? I've asked you not to discuss this now…'
'Ally!' Melanie had gone white. 'What's the matter? What's wrong
with you? I thought you were in agreement?' She broke off abruptly,
as the front door bell sounded imperatively. 'Oh, hell, that'll be Mrs
Lambert here already. I'll answer it—unless you want to?'
'Mrs Lambert?' Alison said wearily. 'Who on earth is Mrs Lambert?'
'Nick didn't tell you about her either?' Melanie stopped, and put a
repentant hand over her mouth. 'Look, I'd better let her in,' she went
on as the bell sounded again.
Alison followed her out into the hall. The woman waiting on the
doorstep was tall with a calm, humorous face. As she took in
Melanie's obvious tension, and Alison's white strained face, her
brows lifted questioningly.
'Good morning,' she said. 'I'm Freda Lambert, and I understood I was
expected, but it seems I may have arrived at a bad time.'
'Expected?' Alison asked rather dazedly. 'I don't quite understand.'
'You'll be Mrs Bristow, of course.' Alison found her hand taken in a
warm clasp. 'Your husband told me he would explain everything to
you before I came, but perhaps his courage failed him. He wasn't sure
how you would react to the idea of your mother having a paid
companion. Maybe he thought it would be better to present you with a
fait accompli.'
'Perhaps he did.' Alison felt stunned, but rallied. 'Won't you come into
the drawing room, Mrs— er—Lambert, and I'll arrange for some
coffee.'
'Perhaps hot sweet tea might be better,' Mrs Lambert said with a
twinkle. 'Isn't that the sovereign remedy for shocks? I'm sorry my
appearance has proved so traumatic for you. I'm sure Mr Bristow
intended you to find it a pleasant surprise. Isn't he here? He said he
would be.'
'I'm sorry,' Alison said awkwardly. 'He—he's been called away on
business.'
'What a shame,' Mrs Lambert sympathised. 'When the whole point of
my being here is to allow the two of you more freedom, and more
time together.' She paused. 'Would it be better, do you think, if I met
your mother before we have coffee?' She gave Alison a dry smile.
'That might give her time to get over her initial annoyance and
resistance to the idea first.'
'I think that's a marvellous plan,' Melanie put in hurriedly. 'I'll take
you up to her.' To her sister she muttered, 'Sit down, Ally, before you
fall down. You look as if you're going to faint!'
'I feel as if I am,' Alison said helplessly. 'I'd like to know exactly
what's going on, please?'
'It's quite simple.' Mrs Lambert's tone was soothing. 'Your husband
has engaged me, Mrs Bristow, on a month's trial as a companion for
your mother. He feels that since she was widowed, she doesn't quite
realise how many demands she makes on your time and energy, and
that you, as her daughter, find it impossible to tell her so. So— my
first task is to get her to accept me, purely on a temporary basis, then
we'll go on from there.'
'She never will,' said Alison, giving her a straight look.
'Oh,' Mrs Lambert's twinkle deepened, 'stranger things have
happened. Of course, if you don't want us to make the attempt—if
you feel it would be better if I left now, without seeing her, then, quite
naturally, I'll go along with that. But I wish you'd let me try.'
Alison sank down on the sofa. 'Very well,' she said at last.
She sat alone, staring into space, trying to make sense of what was
happening and failing, until Melanie returned, and she was able to
round on her. 'Do you mind telling me what's going on? Or are you
simply—clearing the decks, because you're not prepared to look after
Mother, as I've done?'
Melanie stared at her. 'What difference can it possibly make to me?'
she asked, as if she was reasoning with a lunatic. 'I'm not here ninety
per cent of the time, anyway. No, the problem is yours—and Nick's,
of course. But I thought you'd had all this out with him?'
'No.' Alison moistened dry lips with the tip of her tongue.
'I—misunderstood you. We—were discussing something rather
different. Surely you must realise that?'
Melanie shrugged, 'If you say so. But it seems odd when I know Nick
intended to get the whole thing straight with you this weekend.' She
paused, as if a thought had struck her. 'Ally, when Nick told you what
he wanted, what he's going to do— you didn't quarrel, did you?'
Alison's hands were clenched tightly in her lap. 'You—could say
that,' she admitted tonelessly.
'So that's why he's gone off like this!' Melanie looked horrified. 'Ally,
you shouldn't have been angry with him. He's only thinking of you,
after all. And himself, of course,' she added as a cautious amendment.
'After all, it can't be much fun for him having Mother living in the
same house, always there whenever he comes down here, and always
making her presence felt—because she does, Ally, and if you're
honest, you can't deny it. She likes to be the centre of attention, and
it's only natural for Nick to want you to himself, especially when
you've only been married for about five minutes. And she will like
Mrs Lambert, when she gets used to the idea—I know she will. It was
the house that Nick was concerned about. It meant so much to you, he
said, held so many memories that you might not want to give up. But
he feels stifled here. You can't blame him for wanting to find
somewhere with no past associations for either of you. And Mummy
needs to be independent too. That's really what Mrs Lambert is
for—to coax her back into the real world again, as Nick says.'
Alison lifted her hands to her head. 'I don't understand any of this.
There's nothing to stop Nick leaving. I—I never thought he'd stay
here— with you.'
'With me?' Melanie asked in a peculiar tone. 'Where do I come into all
this?'
'Don't let's play any more games,' Alison begged unhappily. 'I know
you've been—seeing Nick. I don't blame you, Mel, honestly. I always
knew you had a thing about him from the very first, and in all sorts of
ways, you're far more suited.' She swallowed. 'But, darling, you're so
young. Are you sure you know your own mind— that you aren't just
infatuated?'It was Melanie's turn to sit down abruptly. The faint
sprinkling of freckles across her face stood out against her sudden
pallor.
'You know?' she said slowly. 'And you thought that I—that Nick . ..?
Oh, Ally, how could you have been such a fool! Yes, I've been seeing
him. He's been so desperately unhappy, and he needed someone to
talk to—someone to consult about what he could do to put things
right between you. Eventually he brought his mother in on it too, and
we hammered out a plan between us. The driving lessons were part of
it, and Mrs Lambert, of course. And—and selling Ladymead. A
whole new start for you both. He was going to talk to you this
weekend, try and persuade you to agree.' She paused. 'Surely you
didn't tell him what you suspected?'
Alison's lips felt numb. 'Yes.'
'Strewth!' Melanie was silent for a few minutes. 'And when he told
you the truth, you argued with him?'
'He didn't deny anything,' Alison said in a low voice. 'I—I said I
wanted a divorce, and he—he agreed to give me one.'
Melanie looked as if she was going to burst into tears. 'Oh God, that's
awful! It must have killed him. Yes, of course I adore him—who
wouldn't? But apart from the fact that he belongs to you, he's too old
for me.' She gave a wobbly smile. 'And if I had been in love with him,
I'd have got terribly fed up, because all he ever wanted to talk about
was you. He's crazy about you. Surely you know that?'
'No,' Alison said steadily, 'I didn't know. I've got everything
hopelessly wrong, and somehow I'm going to have to put it right. If I
can. If it's not too late.' She paused. 'Can you cope here—you and Mrs
Lambert?'
'Of course,' Melanie said instantly. 'But what are you going to do?'
Alison got to her feet. 'I'm going to find him.'
As she went to the door, a desperate, soundless prayer welled up
inside her, 'Dear God, please don't let it be too late ...'
She was close to panic when the taxi dropped her at the door of the
elegant mews house. She stood there, staring at the pristine gleam of
fresh paintwork and brass, wondering what welcome, if any, awaited
her. Wondering, too, if she should have phoned in advance to warn
Nick that she was on her way. To find out, if she was honest, whether
there was any point in her journey, or whether all that awaited them in
the future was the bitter finality of separation and divorce.
Leaving Ladymead had not been easy. Her mother's protests had been
voluble and tearful.
'But you never go to London!' Grievance rang from her voice and
stared from her eyes. 'You hate the place. Alison—I've heard you say
it a dozen times.'
'But Nick is there,' Alison said gently. 'I'm going to be with my
husband.'
Mrs Mortimer sniffed pettishly. 'I fail to see why Nicholas can't come
here instead. He seems very restless—and extremely keen to cause as
much uproar in other people's lives as he can,' she added angrily. 'I
shall find it very hard to forgive him for this day's work. Foisting
some—stranger on to me in this extraordinary way! Well, she can go.
I want nothing to do with her. And I shall have a number of things to
say to your husband if he ever deigns to show his face here again!'
'You must do as you please, of course,' Alison said levelly. 'But
perhaps it might be better not to part with Mrs Lambert too quickly. I
don't know when I shall be coming back, and you'll need someone to
run your errands for you, and keep you company. And she seems
extremely competent and pleasant.'