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Authors: Margaret Bingley

BOOK: Betrayal
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Adopted. Neal didn’t hear the rest of the man’s speech. He was busy working out the difference this made. The girl was going to be exceptionally beautiful, not in any conventional mold but definitely beautiful.

His only interest in life, apart from his work, was collecting uniquely beautiful things. But she was very young, and who knew what the future held for him? By the time her beauty was fully formed he might well be dead, but if alive he’d definitely be interested. He’d mention her to Bishop tonight. ‘Forward Planner 4-year,’ he thought wryly, smiling to himself.

‘My dear Simon,’ he said with deceptive casualness. ‘She’s both lovely and young enough to get away with almost anything! A very lovely girl. You must take good care of her.’

Simon knew an order when he heard one, and was grateful for the finishing school. She’d be safe enough there for a couple of years, or so he thought. She probably would have been, but for Toby Walker.

Chapter Two

Lisa glanced out of Simon's car and wondered why she never really felt happy anywhere any more. 'Is Stephanie home?' she asked.

'Of course. She wants to know what finishing school's doing for you.'

'It's rather boring,' said Lisa apologetically. Simon pretended that he hadn't heard her and as the car slid to a halt Stephanie hurried out to meet them. She kissed Lisa on the cheek before stepping back to survey her keenly. 'You don't look any different!' she exclaimed in disappointment.

'That's a relief!' laughed Lisa. 'I've spent all my time fighting to keep my own identity.'

With a sigh, Simon took Lisa's two leather suitcases out of the back of the car. A few months ago, French, the chauffeur and general handyman, would have done it but he was gone now. Things were not working out as well as Simon would have liked, and it was on Lisa that his hopes were pinned.

Stephanie felt like screaming at this tall, remote girl whose eyes were too old for her face and upon whom Simon's very survival depended. Unfortunately for her this made antagonising Lisa out of the question.'

'We've been invited to a dinner party tonight,' she said abruptly. 'I hope you're no too tired to come?'

Lisa's spirits sank even lower. 'Stephanie, I've done nothing but study how to lay tables, arrange flowers and pick guests—or is it the other way round?—or the past term. Do I have to go?'

'No,' said Simon quietly, 'but there will be some young people there and it would be nice to have you with us again.'

She could tell that it was important to him and so reluctantly agreed. 'Where's French? Can't he carry those for you?' she added.

Simon shook his head. 'French isn't with us any more.'

Lisa's eyes clouded. She'd always liked French. 'Why not?' 'He found a better position.'

'But… ?' Simon glanced at her and she realised that he didn't want to talk about it in front of Stephanie.

'You're young,' said Stephanie icily. 'I suggest you carry your own cases. Simon has had chest pains for the last few weeks, he shouldn't do heavy lifting.' With that she turned and went back into the house.

'Is that true?' asked Lisa anxiously.

'It's probably only indigestion. The doctor says I should lose weight and give up smoking, but that's a difficult combination. When I don't smoke I eat more!'

Lisa realised that he didn't look well. He was pale and his hair had turned completely grey. 'I know everything there is to know about balanced diets and animal fats, I'll make sure you eat properly while I'm home,' she teased, picking up her cases and following Stephanie indoors. An hour later she was sitting in the library when Simon came hesitantly into the room. 'You don't really dislike finishing school, do you, sweetheart? It's important that you get all you can out of it. Stephanie and I, we're self-made people. I want you to…'

'All they teach you is how to be a good wife! We've got to be able to fold napkins into imitation boats, turn tomatoes into red water lilies, think of colour themes for our dinner parties, know how to make a shy guest feel comfortable… it's so trivial.'

'But…

'Oh, we do some work. Languages, history… but they don't really count for much. It's certainly a finishing school. They're showing us how we'll finish up: rushing about playing at being a hostess while our wealthy husbands are off running their industries and making love to girls who learnt how to please men in bed rather than out of it!'

'Surely you want to make a good marriage?'

'I'm not sure what you mean by a good marriage,' replied Lisa softly.

They looked at one another and he was the first to glance away. 'I meant a wealthy one.'

'You're wealthy. Do you want me to have a marriage like yours?' she asked gently.

'I made my money after I'd married; that's quite different.'

'I really want to work with children,' she confided, her face suddenly more animated.

'But that's ideal! Lots of rich wives don't know what to do with their spare time. You could work for the N.S.P.C.C. or something like that.'

'I don't think I'd be able to make a living doing charity work!'

Simon cleared his throat. 'You'll never be poor, darling. I've put a lot of money into a trust fund for you. No matter what happens that will always be there.'

'I'm very grateful, but I do want to earn my own money.' 'You might not have time,' he said sadly.

Lisa stared at him. 'What do you mean?'

'Lisa, I have to talk to you during the holiday. Not now, but soon. Perhaps tomorrow night, when Stephanie's at her bridge evening.'

'If you don't hurry up and get ready the dinner will be half over before we even arrive!' said Stephanie indignantly as she walked in on the pair of them. Lisa stood up slowly and walked gracefully out of the room.

'You have to admit she's stunning,' whispered Simon.

'With her approach to life, she needs to be. I'm only thankful he isn't going to be there tonight. I'd expected the school to soften her… '

'She's all right,' Simon said in a tired voice. 'I'm going to have a whisky before I shower. Do you want a drink?'

'The doctor said no alcohol.'

'Sod the doctor!' he snapped, and Stephanie left him. She knew that there were times when he was better alone. Especially these days, when things were going so horribly wrong.

Dinner was at the house of a Hatton Garden jeweller who'd done a lot of business with Simon over the years, not all of it legitimate. Simon had bought gifts for Stephanie from his shop, but outside office hours, in the small back room, other transactions had taken place. David Markoff either hadn't heard the rumours about Simon's current misfortunes or else he didn’t care.…Unlike many of the Greenes' so-called friends he hadn't severed all contact, and Simon was grateful. So grateful that he spent most of the evening chatting to David's wife, and missed the beginning of what was to be his greatest personal disaster.

Lisa, still hungry because the food had been good but not abundant, wandered off into the room where the drinks were being served and began to help herself to some dry roasted peanuts. The young boy behind the bar, his eyes constantly checking the guests for attractive men, was totally disinterested in her and simply refilled the crystal glass every time she emptied it.

When Toby Walker slid on to the stool next to her she was beginning to feel bored with the nuts and reached in front of him for some olives. To her surprise he put one large hand round her wrist and kept it lightly imprisoned.

'If you're that hungry, I suggest we go on somewhere else and have a proper meal!' he laughed. She turned to look at him. He was stunningly handsome with jet black hair, dark…blue eyes and a fantastic tan that looked genuine. 'I'm Toby Walker,' he added as an afterthought, and then paused as though she ought to know the name. 'I'm Lisa Greene, and kindly let go of my wrist. I'm desperate for an olive.'

'Only an olive?'

'Possibly a heap of spaghetti bolognaise wouldn't come amiss.' 'I'm suitably crushed!'

'Why should you be? You weren't responsible for the extremely lean cuisine we've just finished, were you?'

'No! Are you here with anyone?' he added, his eyes lingering on her crossed legs which looked endless from where he was sitting.

'Only my parents.' 'Who are they?'

'Mr and Mrs Greene!'

'Very sharp! I meant which ones are they? Point them out so that I can see where your good looks come from.'

'That's my father over there, talking to Mrs Markoff, and my mother's the lady in the glittery dress.'

'You don't look like either of them.'

'That's probably because I'm adopted.' She wondered why she'd told him; it was something she usually kept to herself.

'A beautiful orphan, how romantic!' His eyes glinted with amusement.

'Sarcasm…is…more…effective…when…it's…done…with…subtlety,'…she retorted, and wished she'd kept silent.

'I don't know anything about that. I'm an actor.'

'At least that's different. Are you resting at the moment? That's what actors usually do, isn't it?'•

'No, I'm working. I've got a series running on television.'

'You mean you're the star?' she asked with a laugh. She was only flirting with him because he was so handsome and the youngest person in the room apart from herself. She didn't imagine he was really famous. All show-business people exaggerated, it was part of their nature.

'Yes,' he said slowly. 'I'm the star. Where have you been living? On the moon?'

'I'm at finishing school in Switzerland.'

'My, my! Daddy wants you to marry well, does be?'

'Yes. What's your programme called? I'll make sure I watch an episode.'

' The Outsider. I'm an undercover intelligence officer who rushes round saving the country every Monday night after the news.'

'I'm impressed. How did you get the part?'

He shrugged. 'I was lucky. In the right place at the right time, that sort of thing. I hadn't done much before. I took up acting rather late, having started out as a draughtsman.'

'Useful to have a trade to fall back on in the hard times.'

'There won't be any hard times after this, providing I'm sensible, of course.'

'And are you sensible?'

'Not always, ' he said slowly.

'Good! I don't ever intend to be too sensible, not even when I'm old and grey.' Their eyes met and she was fascinated by his undoubted magnetism.

'Lisa, darling,' cooed Stephanie, 'I'd like you to meet… 'Toby turned round and smiled his most charming smile at her. He was amazed by the venom in her small, over made-up eyes and saw how quickly she reached out a fat hand to take hold of Lisa's arm. 'Lisa, I said… '

'I'm talking to someone,' protested Lisa.

'Hasn't your school taught you about mixing?' hissed the older woman. 'You can't just sit here chatting away to some second-rate TV star, there are important people for you to meet.'

Toby, who could hear every word, had to turn away to conceal his annoyance. He didn't consider himself to be in the least second rate.

'Stephanie, please!' protested Lisa under her breath. 'I'm enjoying myself. Toby, didn't you mention something about going out to eat?' and she slithered off the bar stool so that her dress got caught up, revealing shapely thighs and a tantalising glimpse of lace-trimmed french knickers.

Toby shrugged. He knew enough to remember that the Greenes were no longer people of any importance. However, he wasn't sure about Lisa. He fancied her, but then he usually fancied attractive girls. However, there was something about her that was refreshing and attractive, although she was a trifle too edgy for him to feel entirely comfortable with. Just the same, it would be interesting to find out what she was like between the sheets.

'Sure! Don't worry, Mrs Greene, I'll bring her safely home in the morning!'

'In the morning?' Stephanie was still standing with a look of shock and fear on her face when Simon finally joined her, by which time Toby and Lisa were speeding across London, laughing at everything and entirely innocent of the alarm their excursion was causing at the Markoff dinner party.

At three a.m., after a long walk along the Embankment, where Toby talked about his work and his ambitions while Lisa listened intently, they drove to an overnight cafe for long-distance lorry drivers.

She was intoxicated by the strangeness of it all. Toby himself came from the East End—when he forgot that he was an actor his speech lapsed into a heavy London accent—and the cafe and its occupants were quite outside anything she'd ever encountered.

There were wolf whistles and appreciative shouts as she walked in, her low-cut green silk dress ludicrously out of place; but it was obvious that the cafe-owners knew Toby well from the way they greeted him like an old friend.

Over an enormous fry-up of bacon, eggs, sausages, tomatoes, fried bread and chips, it was Lisa's turn to talk. Toby seemed fascinated by the finishing school, unable to believe the sheer banality of some of the classes.

'What about sex?' he asked. 'Sex?'

'Sure. What do they say about that? Isn't it part of the curriculum? I'd have thought it was pretty important, but perhaps not if you're expected to marry a peer of the realm!'

'The only thing they ever talk about is being careful not to squander ourselves on the wrong person. I suppose they're scared we'll get so frustrated we'll dash out and have it off with the first personable waiter we clap eyes on!'

'And do you?'

'Jump into bed with waiters? Certainly not!' 'Get frustrated?'

Lisa knew that she was going to blush and was furious with herself. She put a fork loaded high with chips into her mouth and then hoped he'd lose interest, but he didn't. 'What do you do?' he persisted. 'Mess around with each other?'

'No!' She was so startled that she began to choke. 'So, who keeps you happy?'

'Sex isn't the most important thing in the world,' she said, after taking a long drink of water. 'Most of us don't bother about it while we're there.'

This was totally untrue. The majority of the girls spent a lot of time and ingenuity fixing up assignations with men; returning in the early hours of the morning by climbing up ladders previously hidden by their co-conspirators. But Lisa and one or two other girls didn't take part in any of this. At the back of her mind Lisa was nervous of an affair. She'd seen how involved and vulnerable it made the girls; watched them agonising over late periods and broken meetings, and decided that she didn't want that kind of pain. Sex could wait.

'For one awful moment there I thought you were going to tell me you were saving yourself for your husband!' he laughed.

'I'm saving myself for someone I really want.'

There was a long silence. Toby's face remained expressionless but inside he could hardly believe his luck. She was young, very nearly beautiful, and a virgin. It wasn't the kind of situation he was used to, but it was one he knew with certainty he was going to enjoy.

He'd already discovered how misleading obviously sexy and experienced girls were. They squirmed and moaned a lot, but deep down they were as cold as ice. It was the girls like Lisa who were the best. The ones who were cool and self-controlled on the surface. Once you got them going there was no stopping them.

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