Betrayal (18 page)

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Authors: Margaret Bingley

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'No, she went for the town and country, Jaeger look. Besides, until recently I only designed for myself. I worked as a fashion editor for a woman's magazine—that was really tacky.'

'I hope you do well,' smiled Lisa, finishing her coffee. It was only when she was in the shop doorway that she managed to catch Carol off guard. 'How long had Kay been interested in boats?' she asked abruptly, and Carol's expression told her the answer.

Back home there were two women waiting outside the front door. The younger of them automatically took a step back when she followed Lisa indoors and saw Jessica standing naked in a corner of the room, banging her head rhythmically against the wall while a defeated-looking Mike sat in the middle of the settee, watching her. The older woman's reactions were more reassuring. 'Poor little thing,' she said gently. 'It's difficult to understand why they're so self-destructive, isn't it? You must be frantic with worry.'

'I am,' admitted Lisa, murmuring her thanks to Mike as he slipped away. She talked to both women but it was the older of the two that she chose after discovering she'd spent three years with another autistic child, until he finally went into a home.

'I never want Jessica to go away,' said Lisa firmly. 'You see, I think that if I only spend enough time with her I might be able to break through in some way. I've got to try or I'll never know . If I sent her away and she got worse, I'd always blame myself. Is that silly?'

'Very commendable. Mind you, never is a very long time.' 'That's why I need help.'

'We'll work out a routine,' said Nurse Anthony calmly. 'Then the little one won't notice the difference when you're not here.' 'Except that it will be you and not me who's seeing to her!' 'It's the routine that matters most to them.'

'Is it?' asked Lisa despairingly. 'Don't you think people matter to her at all?'

'They might,' the nurse responded cheerfully. 'Who knows? But as long as I'm a familiar face as well as you, it should be all right. When would you like me to start?'

'Would Friday be convenient?'

'Certainly, and don't worry, Mrs Walker. We'll take care of her between us.'

When Nurse Anthony had gone, Lisa walked over to Jessica, now sitting down and making complicated patterns with her fingers. 'Time to put some clothes on,' she said quietly as she crouched in front of her daughter. For a brief moment their eyes met and immediately Jessica stiffened and her eyes slid away as she tried to scamper off on all fours. Lisa reached out but wasn't quick enough. She watched as the little girl went sideways round the room like a small crab, making huge detours past a chair and a coffee table that blocked her path. Jessica uttered harsh guttural sounds as she moved, keeping her head tilted so that it was impossible for her mother to catch her eye again. When it became obvious that the child would continue scuttling round the room until she dropped, Lisa was forced to make a lunge for her and carry her, rigid and kicking, to the settee where she began trying to put back the clothes torn off in her absence.

'To think you were offered exclusive dresses!' she said ruefully. 'Oh, Jessica, what's going to become of you?' Suddenly, Jessica lay still, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. 'I love you,' whispered Lisa, bending down close to her daughter's ear. 'I love you more than anything on earth, do you know that? I want you to know it, Jessica. I love you, and I always will.'

Jessica didn't move, not even when tears from her mother's eyes plopped on to her upturned face. It was as though Lisa didn't exist.

By the time the Henley Regatta came round, Lisa and Neal were an established couple on the social circuit. Nurse Janice Anthony had helped Lisa find a routine that suited Jessica and she no longer had to worry about her daughter when she was out. She often thought that because she had an exciting life outside the home she was better able to cope when she was there, and coping was becoming more of a challenge as time went by.

The weather for the Regatta was perfect; warm, sunny and dry. Lisa looked wonderful. Carol had designed her a calf-length dress of floating chiffon in palest ivory, its tightly gathered waist accentuated by a wide sash in deep pink. Round the bottom of the skirt there was a generous scattering of matching rosebuds and when Lisa moved they seemed to sway in a gentle breeze. The final touch that made the dress truly outstanding was in the sleeves. These were long and shaped like an inverted 'V' inlaid with lace, ending just below the middle fingers of both hands. They were kept in place by tiny mother-of-pearl rings that fitted over the middle fingers.

Her hair was slightly longer now, curling gently to just below her ears, and although her face appeared devoid of makeup it had actually taken her over an hour in front of her makeup mirror to get such a natural look.

The amount of time and effort that had gone into her appearance brought due reward to Carol, Lisa and Neal. Lisa's photographs dominated not only the fashion magazines the following month but also some of the national papers, and so many women asked her where she'd bought her dress that Carol was swamped with orders for something similar, although she refused to duplicate what Lisa had worn, knowing that it had been right only for her.

Neal was delighted by Lisa's success. She was beginning to blossom into the kind of woman he'd always felt she could become, and if she was still restrained and diffident in company that was all to the good.

The last thing he wanted was a pushy woman seeking the limelight for herself.

As for Lisa, social success gave her confidence in herself. She realised that providing she looked good no one would bother to search any deeper and find out if she felt as confident as she appeared. As long as she smiled pleasantly and stayed with Neal she was perfectly safe and always had an enjoyable time. For the moment that was enough.

She was beginning to realise just how lucky she was to have him. Wherever they went, women made it obvious they found him attractive, sometimes becoming aggressive in their attempts to gain his interest. When she looked at him dispassionately she could understand it. He was young-looking for his age; fit and well built, with the self-assurance and air of authority that only money and power can bring, and he had an abundance of both. Watching him talk to some of the women in their party during the day, Lisa decided that he looked like a man who'd be a good lover—the complete antithesis of Toby.

One divorcee called Rowena spent most of the day talking to him, and kept touching him on the arm or brushing imaginary specks of fluff from his shoulders. He took her attentions patiently, but now and again he'd catch Lisa's eye and smile, so that it was obvious where his interest lay.

At the end of the day they wandered hand-in-hand back to the car. Mike was standing close by and hurried across to open the doors. Neal shook his head. 'I'll drive us home. You can take the train.'

Mike glanced at Lisa and back to his employer, his face suddenly expressionless. 'Very good, sir.'

'Have a day off tomorrow,' continued Neal expansively. 'I shouldn't need you again until Monday morning.'

'Thank you.'

Lisa smiled at him but he looked away, suddenly absorbed by the litter scattered over the grass. She slid into the passenger seat and slipped off her white satin shoes. 'That's nice! They were beginning to pinch.'

'I thought we'd go back to my flat and finish the day off with a quiet dinner at home, all right?'

She knew then that he was tired of waiting. He'd been very patient but time had run out. She either became his mistress or she'd lose him, and after watching women near him today she couldn't really complain. At least the thought didn't repulse her. She too was drawn by his self-assurance and almost old-world courtesy, and he had been extraordinarily kind to her.

'That sounds like a good idea,' she murmured.

Letting out a small sigh of relief , Neal started the engine. He talked most of the way back to London, discussing some of the people they'd met and laughing about Rowena. Lisa put in the occasional remark but as they approached London her nerve gave way and she fell silent.

'Nearly there,' he said cheerfully. 'I expect you're pretty tired.' 'Not too bad, but my feet ache!'

'You'd better lie on the sofa while I see what Mrs Howard's left in the freezer. Thank God for the microwave.'

'I'm not really all that hungry.'

'I'm sure we could both do with a drink.' 'We've been drinking all day!'

'I don't call a couple of glasses of wine drinking all day.' 'I had far more than that.'

'I'm sure a whisky would still be acceptable.'

'Very,' she responded dutifully, hoping that it would help her relax because the back of her neck felt as though it was trapped in a vice and a tight band round her forehead was threatening to turn into a bad headache.

Once inside the flat she felt even worse. Her stomach churned and she could feel that the palms of her hands were damp with perspiration. Suddenly she didn't seem able to concentrate on Neal; all she could think about was Toby. Toby hitting her while she was pinned beneath his body. Toby and Roger abusing her until she'd wished she could die from sheer shame. She even heard Toby's laughter in her ears.

'Sit on the sofa,' murmured Neal. 'You look exhausted.'

'I've got a bit of a headache,' she confessed, and waited for the look of annoyance to appear on his face.

'Don't worry, just lie down and try to rest. I won’t be long.'

She closed her eyes, sank into the deeply cushioned sofa and put a spare cushion beneath her head. She moved her shoulders around in an attempt to ease the tension but instead felt sharp stabs of pain shoot up the back of her neck. Even her legs felt tense, and when Neal sat down next to her her eyes flew open and she looked at him in terror. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered. 'I can't.'

'Can't what?' he asked gently, smoothing some hair off her aching forehead.

'Sleep with you.' She'd finally said it. Now he could begin to ease her out of his life, and the thought made her want to cry.

'Not ever?'

'I don't know, but not today. I thought I could but I can't. You've got every right to be annoyed. I honestly thought I could. I wanted to but… '

'It isn't compulsory!' he teased, massaging her aching temples. 'What made you think this was exam time?'

She gave a small smile. 'Did I make it sound that bad?'

'Just about. Roll on your side and I'll massage your shoulders for you. Now, why the sudden panic?'

'It just seemed logical that after a lovely day like today, when you've had women chasing you non-stop, you'd bound to want… ' 'I didn't find Rowena in the least attractive, and since I always want you, why should I suddenly decide to start exerting emotional pressure today?'

'I don't know. That's nice! I can feel it doing me good. I suppose it was partly because I wanted to as well.'

'Good.'

'But now I don't.'

'Then we won't. Was this shoulder ever damaged? You seem to have some lesions round the joint.'

'I hurt it when Toby knocked me down once. I didn't go to the doctor because it seemed to clear up. You're very good at this,' she added as his thumbs rotated on one of the pressure points.

'Another of my hidden talents. Let's see if the lasagne's ready. I thought we'd eat off trays in here.' Swinging her legs down to the ground, Lisa was amazed to find that she not only felt better, she also felt disappointed. Contrary woman, she thought, smiling at her lack of logic.

After they'd eaten they sat together on the sofa drinking Napoleon brandy from green brandy glasses. 'Carol's dress was a great success,' he commented, running one tanned hand lightly down her arm. 'Particularly the sleeves.'

'She got the idea from Anne Boleyn. She had an extra finger on one hand and all her dresses were designed to disguise that.'

'You haven't got an extra finger, have you?' 'Certainly not!'

'I thought I'd have noticed before today! How on earth did you manage to get all these tiny pearl buttons done up?' And he ran a finger caressingly down her spine. She shivered, but with a sense of excitement.

'Carol came over and helped me dress.' 'Will she be there to undress you?'

'I doubt it!'

'How difficult are they?' he teased, and then she felt his fingers moving deftly until the back of her dress opened and he was able to run his hand over her naked back. His touch was extraordinarily light, the resulting sensation highly stimulating. She wriggled slightly beneath his hand. 'Are you still attached to the sleeves by those nifty little rings?'

Quickly, she slipped them off her fingers. 'Not now.'

Neal took the brandy glass from her and then slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie. 'That's better. We might as well both be comfortable.' As he spoke he peeled the bodice of the dress down over her arms so that she was naked to the waist. He touched her carefully on the shoulder, easing her back against the cushions. When she looked into his eyes she knew that if she wanted to stop him she could, and that knowledge was enough to relax her. Lying back, she let his hands gently stroke her neck, shoulders and breasts.

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