Laura Possessed (23 page)

She was almost running by the time she emerged on the far side of the village and turned into the lane leading to Gillet's cottage. The day was cooler than average, with low clouds and the sun had never broken through. Shivering in her thin dress, she pushed open the door without stopping to knock, finding herself directly in the small living-room. Lewis was sitting at the desk. He didn't seem surprised to see her.

‘Hello, darling.' He held out his hand and she went over to him, standing close behind him and looking over his shoulder at the notes he was making.

‘Still working on the seaside resorts?'

‘It's a long series! I've covered quite a lot of ground since our day in Eastbourne. Just hang on for a moment, will you, while I finish this passage.'

‘Surely.' She moved away, conscious of Noel and almost welcoming her, since it blotted out the pain of her parting from Paul. She noted approvingly that the photograph which had been removed from the scrapbook was now framed and standing on the desk. The hair style in the photograph was identical with the
one
she now wore and even the dress, more tailored than Laura's usual choice, was similar. She smoothed it down with a feeling of satisfaction. Despite Paul's disapproval, she had much more of an air about her now and the knowledge gave her confidence.

She glanced over at Lewis to find him watching her with a smile.

‘What's so funny?'

‘You, my love! You're prinking and preening like a peacock!'

‘I was only thinking my appearance has improved lately.'

‘Indeed it has! The little English ugly duckling has changed into my beautiful American swan!'

Paul's uneasy words echoed in her head and to drown them she said quickly, ‘Are you nearly through? Shall I fix some coffee?'

Lewis drew in his breath. ‘Oh, Noel! Laura would have suggested tea!'

‘I'll make tea if you'd rather.'

‘No, of course not. Have you any idea what it means to me to have found you again?'

She went to him quickly and his arm came round her.

‘You're not frightened any more?' she asked anxiously.

‘How can I be frightened of a real, flesh-and-blood woman?'

She had been right, then! She felt a thrust of triumphant excitement. Now that she had rid
herself
of the importunate Paul, there was nothing to stand in her way. She rested her cheek momentarily on his dark head, and as she did so, something in one of the small drawers inside the desk caught her eye. It was a small silver powder compact. Lewis was completely still as she turned it towards the grey light from the window to read the inscription: ‘Noel—Lewis—Always.'

The blood was thundering in her ears and behind her eyes. When had she last held this? She began to tremble and Lewis's arm held her fast.

‘Remember when you handed me this?' She swayed a little and he repeated urgently, ‘Do you, Noel?'

Her tongue was dry and burning. ‘I think so.'

‘Tell me!'

She struggled to free herself. ‘Lewis—let me go!'

‘Tell me!'

‘It was that last night, wasn't it?' Her voice seemed to hum in her ears, far away and singsong. His laboured breathing shuddered through the stillness and she noticed detachedly the beads of perspiration on his face.

‘Go on.'

She stared down at the little compact and the disjointed memory came to her of a visit to a fortune-teller once who had held some
object
belonging to her and received vibrations from it. She said haltingly, ‘It's hard to remember—I was so sick and dizzy—'

‘Think, Noel, think! It's vital that you should remember this!'

Another tremor shook her violently, rattling her teeth. ‘We were crossing to the car and a speck of dust blew in your eye. I felt in my purse and handed it to you so you could use the mirror to remove it.'

He said almost to himself, ‘Laura could never have known that.' He laughed suddenly and the sound was somehow shocking, making her flinch. ‘I must have slipped it into my pocket without thinking. just as well—if I'd given it back to you, it might possibly have withstood the flames and then the fat would have been in the fire.'

Mesmerized, her eyes went back to the inscription. ‘Yes, it's all there, isn't it? May I keep it now?'

‘Of course.'

Still moving in a dream, she dropped the compact into the open handbag on the chair. His hands dug into her shoulders as they turned her back to face him. ‘Noel—my love—'

But suddenly, frantically, Laura was struggling through, twisting herself away from his hold. He gazed at her blankly, uncomprehendingly, as she fought to retain her grasp on her own personality.

‘She's gone!' she gasped. ‘Oh, Lewis, I
thought
I wasn't going to be able to get back! I—needed to see you—myself. I let her come because I was—miserable, but it—was too much.'

‘Yes,' he agreed tonelessly after a minute, ‘it was too much. Poor little Laura. Sit down and tell me why you were miserable.'

Shakily she let him lead her to a chair and sank down into it. ‘I was with Paul.'

‘I see. Did he upset you?'

‘We upset each other.'

He was watching her keenly. ‘I was right, wasn't I? He is in love with you.'

‘Yes.'

‘And you told him he hadn't a hope?'

Her eyes filled again. ‘More or less.'

He patted her hand. ‘Never mind, sweetheart, he'll get over it.'

She said slowly, ‘You tend to belittle everyone's love except your own, don't you, Lewis?'

‘Do I? Perhaps. But I did admit that even my love had become a little muted as time passed.'

‘Yes. It was when you said that, that Noel really started pushing to get back to you.'

‘In any case I was wrong. It hadn't faded, it was just lying dormant. I love her—you—as much as I ever did.'

She said quietly, ‘You don't love me at all, Lewis, and I don't love you. I told you that. What's more, I'm becoming more and more
convinced
that I love Paul, after all.'

‘Nonsense!' His voice was firm and authoritative. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, holding her gently, his fingers caressing the back of her neck. ‘One thing you must get completely clear, Laura. I do love you, and not only because you give me Noel back. And you love me, however much you may fight against it. You know that, don't you?'

She looked up at him, troubled and confused. His face just above hers was exactly as it had been in her dream those long months ago—hooded, slate-grey eyes, broad nose, self-indulgent mouth and the dark hair falling over his forehead. She sighed a little, too worn-out to fight his strength combined with Noel's.

‘Don't you, Laura?' he persisted.

‘Yes, Lewis, I suppose I do.'

And as his face came down towards her, she let herself be swept away again, tacitly relinquishing her body to the powerful resurgence of the ebullient Noel.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

July slipped past. Robert and Helen returned from school and presumably Paul travelled north to Yorkshire; Laura had not heard from him again. Suddenly, all the talk at Four Winds
was
of ‘the holiday.'

‘What holiday?' Laura enquired at last, and they all looked at her incredulously.

‘
Our
holiday, of course! In Italy!'

‘But—I don't know anything about it—'

Edward regarded her smilingly. ‘My dearest Laura, you must have been in a world of your own these last few weeks!'

‘I vaguely heard you mention holidays, but I just thought you meant when the children came home.'

‘In that case,' Caroline remarked, ‘you'd better have a quick look through your wardrobe to make sure you have everything you need. We go a week on Friday.'

‘But—I can't go!' She stared at them, panic-stricken.

‘Might I ask why not?' Edward enquired.

I can't leave Lewis! The words were in her head but she managed to hold them back. ‘Well, I—you don't want me there all the time.'

‘Of course we want you, and what's more we've no intention whatever of going without you, so you can forget that.'

‘Fancy not wanting to go to Italy!' Robert said wonderingly.

‘Could you tell me something more about it, then?'

‘Of course. We rent a villa on the Adriatic coast. You must have heard about it before, we've been there for the last two years. It's a lovely spot within easy reach of Venice without
all
the rowdy tourism you get if you're too near. We lie on the beach all day on a diet of fruit and cheese, and have a slap-up meal in the local
ristorante
every evening. It suits us perfectly.'

Later, when she found Edward alone with the evening paper, Laura said tentatively, ‘You know, I'm really not at all sure that I want to go to Italy, Edward.'

‘Oh, Laura, really! It will just put the finishing touch to your recovery, I'm sure. You might even meet a handsome gondolier!'

She smiled dutifully but her eyes were troubled. He said more seriously, ‘It's Lewis, isn't it? Surely you can bear to leave him for three weeks!'

She flushed. ‘I suppose you think I'm very stupid.'

‘Are you sure you know what you're doing, love? If you've really set your heart on him and he feels the same, I suppose I'll just have to accept it, but—I don't know. There's something about him I'm not happy about, though I can't really put my finger on it. And even allowing for love's young dream, there is something a bit—obsessive about your attitude to each other. Frankly, I think it will do you good to get away from him for a while. You might even feel differently by the time you get back.'

‘I shouldn't count on that,' she answered with quiet fatalism.

‘What
about young Denver? Has he bitten the dust completely?'

She held down the surge of unhappiness which rose inside her and replied almost steadily, ‘There was never really anything between Paul and me.'

‘Not for want of trying on his part, I imagine.'

‘Please, Edward!'

‘All right. Well, Lewis or no Lewis, you're coming to Italy with us, my girl, and he can like it or lump it!'

‘I'd better go and tell him,' she said quietly.

‘Can't you phone?'

‘No, I've some papers to return to him anyway.'

In the warm enclosure of the garden at Gillet's cottage, Lewis listened carefully to what she had to say. ‘Do you want to go, darling?'

‘I don't want to leave you.'

His fingers were tight on hers. ‘I shall miss you every second of every day.'

‘I suppose we have come to the end of the collaboration on the book, anyway.'

‘You think you've finished with me then, do you?' he asked teasingly. ‘You won't get rid of me as easily as that!'

‘But we haven't any—reason—' she had almost said ‘excuse'—‘to see each other so often now.'

‘I imagined,' he said softly, ‘that we had the
best
reason in the world.'

‘Lewis—'

‘Who are you today, sweetheart? You're so alike now, I'm not always sure!'

An apprehensive tremor lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. It was true. She too was finding it increasingly difficult to detect Noel's presence. Slowly, insidiously, Noel's infatuation with Lewis was seeping into her own consciousness, making her restive when she was away from him. Only occasionally, when Paul's name was mentioned, did she feel a stab of the remembered pain.

She leant her head against Lewis's shoulder and his lips moved over her hair. He loved her. It was all right. Somehow they would live through the three weeks without each other, and perhaps, when she came back, he would mention marriage again. This time, she knew, she would not resist. There was no point any longer in imagining she had any life without him.

The next morning's post brought a letter from Paul. The writing was unfamiliar, a black, forceful scrawl, but the Huddersfield postmark was identification enough and her treacherous heart gave a little jump. She tore open the envelope at once, standing in the hall, her eyes flying down the closely written pages. He began ‘Dear Laura' and ended ‘Yours, Paul.' In between was news of his family and his home, the books he was reading, the films he
had
seen. Illogically she felt flat, let down. She folded the letter neatly and put it back in its envelope. Since it had been she who had asked him to write, she must reply before they went away and let him know their holiday address. Thoughtfully, she went in to breakfast.

It was three days before they were due to go to Italy that Richard phoned. The telephone rang as they were going through to dinner, and Caroline stopped in the hall to answer it. A moment later she came to the dining-room door, flushed and tight-lipped.

‘Edward, will you come and speak to Richard? He's got some ridiculous idea of coming to Italy with us, and nothing I say makes any difference.'

Edward pushed back his chair. ‘He wants to come? But that's splendid! Why on earth shouldn't he? Heaven knows when we last had a holiday altogether.'

Caroline said tightly, ‘It's out of the question. You'll see that if you just think for a moment. For one thing there aren't enough bedrooms and he'll expect to bring—that girl.' Her colour deepened and her eyes went guardedly to the children.

‘I can sleep on the sofa in the living-room,' Robert volunteered eagerly. ‘Richard can have my bed!' Richard had long ago refused pointblank to be called ‘Uncle,' a stand which still rankled with the conventional Caroline.

Edward was already in the hall. Caroline sat
down
at the table and her eyes went resentfully to Laura. ‘No doubt you'd be only too delighted to have them, too.'