Whispers of Love (13 page)

As she slipped into the pale green dress and stood in front of the long mirror to arrange the floating dark-green chiffon panels, a movement from the doorway startled her. She held her breath as she saw that Fiona, a ghostly figure in her floor-length white lawn nightdress, was standing there watching her.

‘That's a very pretty dress. I don't think I've seen you wearing it before. Are you going somewhere special?'

Christabel felt hot colour staining her cheeks as their eyes met in the cheval mirror.

She bit her lip. ‘I'm going out for a meal and to a dance with your brother,' she said quietly.

‘With George?'

When she hesitated, Fiona moved into the room and perched herself on the edge of Christabel's bed. ‘I've never been to a dinner-dance, Christabel. I think I would like to go with you tonight.'

‘That's out of the question, Fiona. You're not well enough. It'll be very noisy, and it's an extremely smoky atmosphere. It wouldn't be wise, not in your state of health.'

Fiona stared at her in silence for a minute.

‘It was because of the state of my health that I was sent out here to St Moritz, wasn't it?' she sighed.

‘That's right.'

Fiona gave a supercilious smile. ‘And you were hired to nurse me because of the state of my health, weren't you, Christabel?'

Christabel nodded.

‘I wonder what my parents would say if they knew you went out and left me on my own in my state of health. Especially if they knew you were going out with George . . .' her voice trailed away, but her eyes were shining with malice.

Christabel frowned uneasily. ‘What are you trying to say, Fiona?'

Before Fiona could answer there was a noise from downstairs and they heard Madame Frederique greeting George and showing him into the drawing room.

‘I'm sure my brother will think you look very lovely,' Fiona murmured.

‘Thank you!' Christabel tried to accept Fiona's compliment calmly, but inwardly she felt perturbed as she wondered what the girl was leading up to.

Stretching out a hand, Fiona touched one of the floating chiffon panels of Christabel's dress and then moved towards the door, still holding on to it so that Christabel had no choice but to go with her or have her dress torn.

Against her will, Christabel found herself being led down the stairs to where George was waiting.

‘Christabel's ready and she's wearing such a pretty dress that she looks really lovely,' Fiona pronounced, as they entered the drawing room.

George's eyes met Christabel's over his sister's head and she tried to flash a warning, but she wasn't even sure herself what kind of game Fiona was playing.

‘I've never been to a dinner-dance so I've decided I'm coming with you,' Fiona announced.

‘Don't be silly, Fiona!' George remonstrated crossly. ‘Back to bed this instant.'

‘No! I'm coming with you and Christabel,' she repeated firmly, two red flushes of colour staining her cheeks.

‘Fiona, stop this nonsense. You know you are in no fit state to go dancing.'

‘True but I also know that I'm in no fit state to be left alone,' she told him coolly.

‘You're not being left on your own. Madame Frederique will be here looking after you.'

‘Either you take me with you, George, or I shall tell our parents that you and Christabel are carrying on with each other. I shall tell them all about what the two of you have been up to,' she added, smiling sweetly.

‘Up to? We haven't been up to anything,' George told her. ‘We've simply gone to a dinner-dance. It's what grown-ups do,' he added with a forced laugh.

‘I only hope Father will believe you and see it your way,' Fiona replied innocently.

‘Look, I'm taking Christabel to a dinner-dance, nothing more! After all,' he defended, ‘it's not very amusing for her to be shut up here with you twenty-four hours a day, now, is it?'

‘It's what's she's paid to do. She's only a servant, you know.'

‘Fiona, that's unforgivably rude.'

‘Unforgivable? What an apt choice of word, George. That's probably the very expression Father will use when he hears you've been taking Christabel out. You know how outraged he always is when he catches you playing around with any of the servant girls back at home. In fact,' she went on smugly, her eyes fixed on his enraged face, ‘it's the reason he turned you out, isn't it?' She smiled vindictively. ‘I heard him say that it was cheaper to give you an allowance, so that you could live away from home, than to have to pay young servant girls hush money to go quietly and not make a fuss when they were pregnant.'

George's face blanched beneath its tan. ‘You are absolutely despicable, Fiona! I suppose you've been listening at keyholes again?' he jibed.

‘Of course, but Father doesn't have to know this time,' she went on unperturbed. ‘If you took me with you, then I wouldn't want him to know about you taking Christabel to dinner-dances!' She laughed softly, her delicate features suddenly sharp and waspish. ‘If you took me along as well, then I would hardly be likely to give the game away, would I?'

George looked helplessly at Christabel. ‘What do you think we should do?'

‘The Carlton Casino is far from suitable for Fiona,' she said stiffly. ‘The smoky atmosphere and all the noise won't do her any good at all.'

‘It won't do me any good, either, if she tells the old man that I've been taking you out,' George interrupted. ‘If he cuts off my allowance, I'll probably starve to death. The play I was in has finished and I haven't another part in sight.'

‘So you're going to take me with you? Oh, thank you, George.' Fiona's flushed face was wreathed in smiles as she hugged her brother. ‘I'll be ready in ten minutes. Come and help me dress, Christabel,' she ordered over her shoulder.

Christabel was astonished by the change in Fiona's behaviour once they reached the Carlton. Her petulant attitude vanished as she absorbed the scene around her. She begged for
some champagne and when George ordered it she drank her first glass so quickly that Christabel was alarmed and protested strongly when George poured out some more for her. She was even more concerned when Fiona demanded that George should give her one of the long, dark cigarettes he was smoking.

Ignoring Christabel's warning that smoking was harmful for her, Fiona fitted a cigarette into a long jade holder she'd taken from her evening bag and proceeded to light up with the enjoyment of someone who was already used to smoking.

By the end of the evening, Fiona was utterly exhausted. Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed, and she was too fatigued to even walk and made no protest at all when George picked her up in his arms as if she was a child and carried her out to the taxi. She seemed to be almost asleep when they reached home so he carried her straight up to her bedroom.

‘Don't be too long, we must talk about this. I'll fix myself a drink while you settle Fiona for the night,' he whispered conspiratorially to Christabel as he left the bedroom.

Christabel didn't attempt to fully undress Fiona; she simply removed her dress and shoes and pulled the covers up over her before joining George in the drawing room.

A week later, Sir Henry and Lady Margaret Gleeson arrived in St Moritz unannounced. Two hours later, following a heated confrontation,
Christabel had been dismissed and Fiona was on her way home to England with her parents.

 

As she stood in the snowy road outside the chalet that had been her home at St Moritz for such a brief period, her two suitcases at her side, Christabel tried to focus her thoughts on what she was going to do.

The interview with the Gleesons had been short and bitter after they'd heard Fiona's version of events.

After a stormy confrontation they had given her a month's wages, although they pointed out that she didn't deserve a penny after the way she had flirted with George and neglected Fiona.

They refused to let her travel back to England with them and it was with great reluctance that they met her pleas for the money to pay her fare home.

Going back to England was the last thing Christabel wanted to do. In her letters to her mother she'd written such glowing accounts about how wonderful it was in Switzerland and how happy she was in her new position that it would be impossible to simply arrive home and say the job had ended. Unless, of course, she claimed that Fiona had died.

A shudder went through her at the thought of telling such a monstrous lie. She wasn't superstitious, but she felt that was pushing things a little too far.

If only the Gleesons had not decided to depart in quite such a hurry, she might have had time to make some plans. They had shut up the house and turned her out into the street all in the matter of a few hours.

She wondered who had contacted them and told them what was going on. She suspected it had been Fiona. Madame Frederique would hardly have done something like that since it meant she had lost her job as well.

George hadn't even been given the chance to defend himself since they hadn't taken the time to get in touch with him. Slowly it dawned on her that since they hadn't even spoken to him he wouldn't even know they'd been in Switzerland or anything at all about what had happened.

Christabel pressed her hands to her temples, trying to calm the throbbing that she was afraid was building up into a searing headache. If George was still in St Moritz, she reasoned, and if he didn't know that Fiona had gone home, then perhaps that changed her situation completely.

If George enjoyed her company and found her as good a listener as he professed she was, then perhaps he might let her stay with him, she thought hopefully.

If she could persuade him to do that, then there might be no need for her to return to Liverpool, at least not immediately.

All she had to do was convince him that his
parents had resolved to take Fiona back to England for some reason connected with her treatment, and that she wanted to stay on in Switzerland, even though it meant losing her job.

Feeling more relaxed now that she felt she was in charge of the situation, Christabel picked up her suitcases and made her way to the hotel where she knew George was staying.

George was surprised to find Christabel waiting for him at his hotel when he returned from a day spent on the ski slopes with some of his friends. This turned to concern, however, when he heard the reason why she was there.

‘You're saying that my parents have been here in St Moritz and gone straight home again?' he exclaimed in bewildered tones. ‘Are you sure, Christabel? I can't imagine my old man passing up a chance to spend some time here enjoying a spot of tobogganing after travelling such a long distance.'

‘They seemed to be in a tremendous hurry,' she explained.

‘Even so, I can't understand them returning to England without even seeing me! Didn't Fiona tell them I was still here?'

‘I don't think they gave Fiona much opportunity to tell them anything,' Christabel told him evasively. ‘They were too busy insisting that they intended to take her back to England immediately.'

‘I see!' He ran a hand through his hair, and then his face cleared. ‘It's probably something to do with her treatment; another specialist, or
something. So when are they bringing her back?'

‘I don't think they are. They certainly never mentioned it.'

‘And yet they left you behind?' He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

‘They told me my services were no longer required,' Christabel told him. ‘They gave me the money for my return fare because I said I didn't want to travel with them. That was because I wanted to see you and explain what was happening,' she added quickly.

George gave a long silent whistle. ‘So what are you going to do now?'

‘I don't really know. I'll have to return to England and try and find work, I suppose, so I'd better go and make some travel arrangements right away.'

‘Hold on, there's no rush, is there? Let's go for a meal and we can talk about it and see if that is absolutely necessary.'

‘That's very kind of you, George. I must admit I hate the thought of having to go back to Liverpool and tell my family that I've lost my job, but I don't think it is possible to stay here in St Moritz even for one night because everything is so expensive,' Christabel gulped, twisting her handkerchief nervously and avoiding his eyes.

‘I have an idea that might appeal to you,' he went on. ‘Come on, I'll tell you all about it while we're eating. I'll arrange for you to stay
here at my hotel for tonight,' he added briskly taking her arm and guiding her across the road towards a smart little restaurant.

He waited until they had been served before he spoke. ‘I really do think I might have the answer,' he assured her.

‘Oh, and what is that?'

‘Well, it would mean you would have to live in London. Would that matter? Do you really need to return to Liverpool? My agent has told me that it might be to my advantage as an actor to return to London.'

‘I don't understand the connection.' Christabel frowned.

‘Well, if I am going to live there permanently then I need someone to take care of things at my flat, a sort of live-in housekeeper.'

She frowned questioningly as if still not quite sure what that had to do with her but inwardly she felt exultant.

‘I'm offering you the job.' He smiled.

‘Of being your housekeeper!' She looked at him in feigned astonishment. ‘I'm not sure,' she demurred.

Over dinner George explained about the letter that he'd received from his agent telling him that there was a challenging part for him in a new modern play by Jules Lowry that was soon to open in London. He had already accepted on George's behalf so it was imperative that George return to London immediately.