Anne Mather (18 page)

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Authors: Sanja

BOOK: Anne Mather
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I was worried, of course. Because I didn't know how badly hurt you were!'

Adam's fists clenched. 'How charming!' he said, sardonically. 'You constantly surprise me, Caroline. Does my mother know you're here?'

'Of course. I went straight to her house this afternoon, when I arrived.'

'1 see.' Adam glanced out of the window meaningfully, and Caroline felt a surge of rebellion rousing in her. He couldn't be as indifferent as all that. He just couldn't!

In truth, Adam's head was spinning with the unaccustomed exercise of simply standing, after several days in bed. He supposed the amount of drugs they had been doping him with were partly responsible, but the shock of seeing Caroline added its own strain.

As though realising he was not as well as he professed to be, Caroline quickly moved to him, looking up at him anxiously. 'Are you all right, Adam?' she asked huskily.

Adam tensed, looking down at her, his whole being pulsing with a desire so strong it was irresistible. 'No,' he groaned, his defences weakened by his illness and her nearness. 'No, I'm not all right at all.' He turned away, running a hand through his thick hair.

Caroline hesitated only a moment, and then she slid her arms round him, pressing herself against him. 'Adam,' she breathed, 'please. . .'

He turned then, unable to resist the temptation that was tearing him apart, and his mouth sought and found hers. Passion flared between them, they were hungry for one another, and his injuries were forgotten in desires of a more over-whelming kind. Caroline clung to him, subconsciously aware that she had taken advantage of his condition, and that Adam would not succumb so easily in the normal way.

When he put her from him, she was not surprised to find anger in his eyes. What hurt her most was the derisive expression he wore.

'Oh yes,' he muttered, 'this is very amusing isn't it?' He was bitter and hurtful, despising his own need of her.

'Adam,' she cried, 'don't be like this!'

'What should I be like? Polite, charming? I think not. Do you imagine you've succeeded now? Do you expect me to grovel at your feet? Is that why you got engaged to John? To create just this situation?'

Caroline pressed a hand to her mouth. 'Adam, I love you—'

'Spare me that, please,' he groaned in exasperation.

'It's true.' Her eyes were pleading, imploring him to believe her.

Unable to stand any more Adam turned abruptly away and sank down in his chair. He was still weak from the blood he had lost, and the knowledge that he wanted to believe her because of his own need angered him still further. How could he let her make a fool of him a second time?

Caroline, shattered by his words and not knowing of his inner torment, felt helpless. She stood where she was, trying to calm herself. It was almost with relief that she heard the door opening and Teresa came in.

Her sharp eyes sped from Adam to Caroline and then back to Adam again. She looked momentarily concerned.

With a bright smile she ignored the obvious tension and said: 'Hello, darling. Did seeing Caroline give you a surprise?'

'Yes, indeed,' remarked Adam dryly and lit another cigarette.

Teresa closed the door, frowning. Her anxiety grew as she saw how grey Adam was looking. The amount of blood he had lost would take a day or two to restore and although the doctors assured her he was making a steady improvement, it was apparent that seeing Caroline had been more in the nature of a shock than a surprise.

Twisting her gloves, she came to sit beside Adam, perching on the side of the bed while Caroline moved awkwardly to the door.

'I'll leave you alone,' she said quietly, her voice rather unsteady. 'I'll wait for you, Mrs Steinbeck.'

Teresa ran her tongue over her lips. 'All right, dear. I shan't be too long.' She noticed that Adam said nothing, nor did he look at the girl as she went out, closing the door behind her.

As the door closed, Teresa took a cigarette from the box on the side-table and helped herself to a light. Then she looked thoughtfully at Adam. He was lying back in his chair, his eyes half-closed. He appeared to be staring moodily into space.

'Well, Adam?' she said expectantly.

Adam opened his eyes wide and looked at her.

'Well what?' he asked harshly.

'Surely that's obvious,' exclaimed Teresa quietly. 'Adam, tell me truthfully, are you in love with that girl?'

Adam looked down at the glowing tip of his cigarette.

'I can't see that it's any business of yours,' he replied coolly, his voice polite but unapproachable.

'But it is,' exclaimed Teresa. 'You're my son and I want to see you happy.'

'And you think I would be happy with.. .her?' he mocked.

'Yes, I do,' cried Teresa angrily. 'Good heavens, man, can't you see she's in love with you? What have you been saying to her? She looked like a ghost when I came in.'

Adam did not reply immediately. He flicked ash from his cigarette into the brass ashtray and stared out of the window. He had no desire to discuss his affairs with his mother. Much as he loved her, he was not prepared to act like a lonely-hearts representative. Anything he decided, he had got to decide alone. No one could make the decision but himself. Dare he take the risk of Caroline meaning everything she had said?

'I think,' he said carefully, 'that I'm quite old enough to look after my own affairs. I don't want to hear any more about it, thank you.'

'But, Adam.. .'

He interrupted her, 'Have you heard from John yet?'

Teresa was infuriated but completely unable to force him to tell her anything. Adam had always been like this. Shutting up like a clam when his innermost feelings were involved. She could only hope he made the right decision.

'No,' she replied briefly, 'I haven't. I expect we'll hear tonight or tomorrow, though. I'm not worried. John will come when he's ready.'

After that their conversation was practically nonexistent. Adam was absorbed with his thoughts and Teresa was too het-up to be able to relax. She felt bitterly sorry for Caroline and decided to cut short her visit so that she could comfort the girl.

'Oughtn't you to be getting into bed?' she asked, standing up at last.

'All in good time,' replied Adam infuriatingly. 'I expect 1 shall go to bed after you've gone.'

'Perverse creature!' exclaimed Teresa, and bent to kiss him. 'Goodnight, darling. Do look after yourself. You're the only son I've got.'

Adam smiled as she left. She really was incorrigible!

Caroline was waiting for Adam's mother in the visitors' lounge. She looked pale and withdrawn and they made the journey home almost in silence. Teresa felt desperately concerned for both Caroline and Adam. A storm was brewing in the air, and the sky hung heavily overhead as they turned into Roseberry Drive. Teresa commented on it and Caroline replied in a monosyllable.

When they reached the house they found a taxi standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door. As Teresa parked the saloon a young man came running down the steps and stopped when he saw them. He had been going to get into the cab, but he came over instead.

'Why, John!' exclaimed Teresa, aware of the look of exhaustion that crossed Caroline's face as they both got out of the car.

John smiled at his grandmother. 'Hello, love,' he said, kissing her. 'I've just arrived and when Liza said you were at the hospital I decided I would go over and meet you. That's not necessary now, of course. How is Dad? Should I go and see him?'

Teresa bit her lip. 'I shouldn't go over right now,' she said. 'He's rather weary. He lost a lot of blood, but he's going to be fine. He has facial injuries, of course, and his arm is gashed, but none of them are really serious.'

'Thank heaven!' exclaimed John, studiously ignoring Caroline. 'I may as well pay off the cab, then.'

He walked away and Caroline and Teresa made their way into the house. Caroline's nerves were jumping. From John's manner she felt sure they were going to have a blazing row and she didn't feel she could stand it tonight. With each progressive minute it seemed to get hotter and she could feel the beginnings of a headache probing the back of her eyes. She supposed John was entitled to an explanation and she had treated him badly in one way, but after their upheaval in France she had felt sure he was growing tired of her. Tonight, after the scene with Adam, she only wanted to be alone, and the thought of her coming interview with John was nauseating.

Teresa led the way into the lounge and flung open both the doors. She dabbed her forehead with a cologne-scented handkerchief and said:

'My, but it's humid!' Then she turned and went back into the hall, calling, 'Liza!'

John came in as she went out and seeing Caroline, he at last spoke. 'Well,' he said coldly, 'what's all this about?'

Caroline ran a hand over her forehead. It felt hot and sticky. Her dress seemed to be clinging to her back and she longed for a cooling shower.

'I'm afraid I'm breaking our engagement, John,' she said quietly. 'Please don't make a scene. I don't think I could stand it.' She drew off the big emerald ring. 'Please, take this back. I'm sorry.'

John thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, belligerently. He ignored her outstretched hand and she was forced to hold on to the ring. All sympathy for her had vanished at her words and he only wanted to hurt her. She looked so beautiful standing there and she was the first woman who had ever rejected him.

'Indeed,' he said spitefully, 'and what am 1 to assume from that remark? Do I take it that my father is now back in the running?'

'Don't be horrible,' she whispered, wetting her dry lips.

'So it seems I'm right after all,' he taunted. 'My God, Caroline, you're taking a hell of a lot for granted! Just what do you think my friends will say about this? I'll be a laughing stock.'

'What am I taking for granted?' she protested bewilderedly. 'You knew in the beginning it was a gamble.'

'You're taking for granted the fact that I'll agree to release you from our engagement,' he replied smoothly.

'What can you do to keep me to it?' she demanded, and continued relentlessly, 'Where were you last night when your grandmother was trying to get in touch with you? Were you restoring your manly pride with some other girl? After all, as you said, you're not used to being turned down. What a shock that must have been to your pride!'

John was positively fuming. Caroline, now into her stride, made him appear like some stupid school- boy. She certainly didn't pull her punches.

She pushed the ring into his hand and looked fearlessly at him.

'Let's have no more talk of that,' she said abruptly, as his grandmother came into the room. She was carrying a tray on which was a jug of iced lime juice and three glasses.

'It's so refreshing,' she said, setting the tray down on the table. 'Will you have some, Caroline?'

'Thank you,' Caroline nodded, and went to sit near the door. John also accepted a glass of the cooling liquid and flung himself into an armchair. He felt utterly fed up. Everything Caroline had said had been true. It was his pride that she had hurt more than anything else, although there had been a time when he had imagined himself in love with her. Her cool, blonde beauty fascinated him. However, it seemed it was not to be, and he was still outraged that she blatantly preferred his father.

Caroline now felt completely empty. She was glad she had got the scene with John over, but now there was nothing left. She didn't really have a reason for staying any longer. Adam had been so hurtful tonight and she was not John's fiancee any more. She had cut the ties with a vengeance, or more correctly, they had been cut for her.

After finishing her drink she excused herself. Her headache felt worse and she said she was going to lie down. Teresa was sympathetic and agreed that bed was probably the best place. However, when Caroline reached the seclusion of her room she felt very restless. She took three aspirins and wandered to the window, looking out without really seeing the view. She won- dered achingly whether she might just as well return to London tomorrow. To stay would only make the eventual parting much more painful. She already liked Adam's mother; she didn't want to get any more deeply involved with her.

The humidity in the room was intense in spite of the air-conditioning, and Caroline, hearing the sound of the waves on the beach, longed to get out of the house. She had seen so little of this place and the idea of a stroll along the beach appealed to her. The storm was still threatening, but she didn't think it was imminent. Besides, the beach was only a few yards distant and she could hurry back if it began to rain.

Taking a cardigan with her, she left her room and walked along the landing to the top of the stairs. She could hear the voices of John and his grandmother coming from the lounge and she wondered whether she could get out without them seeing her. After all, she had no desire for further conversation with John tonight, and Teresa, knowing her troubled state of mind, might suggest that she accompany her. Much as she liked Adam's mother she wanted to be alone.

She crept quietly down the stairs, her low-heeled shoes in her hand. Half amused at the picture she must make, she quickly crossed the hall, passed the open lounge doors and reached the front door. Opening it silently she slipped out, just as Liza appeared from the kitchen. Her heart thumping, she stood waiting outside the front doors, hoping Liza had not seen her. When no one came she assumed she had not been spotted and putting on her shoes set off down the drive. She knew no one would see her here as the lounge overlooked the rear of the building. Feeling less like an escaping criminal now she began to enjoy the unaccustomed breeze from the sea.

She saw no one as she walked towards the headland. It was too late for the people who were dining out and too early for those returning home as it was already nearly nine o'clock. It was dusk, but the curious colour of the sky shed a brilliance over everything. She didn't feel scared. Storms had never frightened her.

She crossed the highway which ran along the cliff top and reached the grassy slope which led down to the beach. Two promontories curved out on either side of the stretch of beach while the sand in the cove looked white and undefiled. Caroline felt exhilarated by the salty air and she began to descend the slope slowly. There seemed no other way of getting down and besides, the slope was very gentle.

Holding carefully to tufts of grass, and digging in her heels as she went she moved down with ease. The exercise banished all self-pitying thoughts from her brain and she found she was enjoying herself.

And then, when she was within twenty feet or so of the beach, the grassy slope gave way to a sheer drop of bare rock. Horrified, Caroline remained where she was clinging to the slope with urgent fingers. From the cliff-top this drop had been hidden and she thought in desperation that a warning ought to be given to strangers like herself. Trying not to panic, she knew that somehow she had got to get back up the cliff face. It would not have been difficult if she had been facing the slope, but she had gone down more or less facing forward and now she was stuck, precariously above the drop.

No wonder the beach had looked so clean, she thought, furious with herself for being so foolhardy. Sighing, she glanced upwards. It didn't look so far and it was an easy slope. If she could just turn round she would be able to make it.

But fate took a hand, as it sometimes does, and as she attempted to turn, the heel of one shoe gave way and, with a startled cry, she felt herself plunging down on to the beach below. She landed on the sand, stunned by the fall, but within a few moments she was able to sit up and look around her. Luckily, the soft sand, had prevented her from breaking anything and she was soon standing up and looking up the cliff in exasperation. Now she had really done it. How on earth was she supposed to get back up there? The cliff face was completely sheer and even if she had been a climber she doubted whether she would have been able to get up it.

She sighed helplessly. She might even have to stay here until somebody found her, and on the heels of this thought came another, much more terrifying; no one knew she was out tonight. She might not be missed until morning. Suddenly she felt scared. There was very little likelihood of anyone coming along here tonight. It was getting quite dark now, and besides, the storm would deter people from leaving their homes anyway. Mrs Steinbeck would naturally assume she had gone to bed and was not coming down again. If only she had told them she was going out, instead of behaving like an idiot!

Suddenly she felt a spot of rain and there was an ominous roll of thunder. The storm was about to start. She looked around in desperation for somewhere to shelter, but although she walked from one side of the cove to the other, there were no caves. It was a veritable prison, with no escape.

She felt utterly stupid and drew back against the cliff face, trying unsuccessfully to keep dry. A flash of lightning illuminated the cove and another crack of thunder echoed menacingly. It was difficult to stop the tears from gathering in her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. It was no one's fault but her own that she was in this position and she had got to make the best of it.

It was about this time that she realised that the sand beneath her feet was not the normal dry sand in a cove. It was damp and firm and completely clean as she had noticed before. That could mean only one thing; the tide came right in, covering the cove completely and thus making it unsafe to visitors. She went cold; she had felt shivery before, but this was the coldness of a petrifying dread. Was it possible she was to be drowned regardless of whether she survived the night in the open or not? She felt sick with fear. If only she had never left the security of her room. If only.. .! And how long before high tide?

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