Anne Mather - White Rose Of Winter

Robert stubbed out the cigar he had been smoking and dropped it carelessly into the ashtray. ‘There’s no hurry, Mother,’ he remarked, in complete control of himself again.

‘I’m not sure Pamela would agree with you, darling.’ There was definitely a note of reproof now, and a brief dismissing glance in Julie’s direction. ‘You must meet Pamela, Julie. Pamela Hillingdon. You may have heard of the family. She and Robert are getting married in the spring.’

Julie managed to appear unmoved by this news. ‘Really,’ she said evenly. ‘But I doubt whether I’ll ever have that opportunity. She and I no doubt move in different circles.’

Robert had been reaching for the handle of the door, but at her words he turned abruptly to face her, his eyes narrowing. ‘I don’t understand what you mean, Julie,’ he stated flatly, and his mother drew her brows together in delicate bewilderment.

‘You’re not going to be difficult, Julie, I hope,’ she exclaimed, and received a quelling glance from her son which Julie found hard to comprehend.

‘Well?’ Robert demanded. ‘Exactly what are you saying, Julie?’

Julie felt her cheeks colouring in spite of her determination to stay cool. ‘Surely it’s obvious,’ she stated steadily. ‘I – well – Emma and I can’t live here. Within the next few days, I intend to look around for a job and somewhere for Emma and myself to live—’

‘What?’ Lucy put a trembling hand to her temples and sank down weakly into the nearest chair. ‘Oh, Julie, you can’t be serious!’

‘It doesn’t matter whether she is or otherwise,’ snapped Robert obliquely. ‘She hasn’t yet been informed of the facts of the case.’

‘What facts?’ Julie pressed her palms together apprehensively.

Lucy looked up at her son. ‘You didn’t tell her?’

‘I didn’t get the chance.’ Robert raked a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. When he was disturbed as he was now it was painfully easy to remember the last confrontation she had had with him, and Julie bent her head to avoid the cold brilliance of those grey eyes.

‘Will you please tell me what I’m supposed to be told?’ Julie wondered how long her legs would continue to support her. ‘Is there some reason why I should not be permitted to do as I like?’ She looked up suddenly, her eyes guarded. ‘Because if there is, I shall fight it.’

‘Oh, Julie, please.’ Lucy fanned herself with one hand. ‘Don’t be difficult! We only want to do what’s best for – for you, and for Emma.’

Robert flicked back his cuff and glanced at the broad gold watch on his wrist and Julie stiffened. ‘Don’t let me keep you from your appointment,’ she exclaimed. ‘Just say what you have to say and go!’

Robert’s eyes glittered. She knew that had they been alone there would have been things said which they might both have regretted later, although she doubted that Robert ever did anything he might regret.

‘Michael left a will,’ he said at last.

‘I know that. He left his shares in the company to the family. So what? I don’t need anything—’

‘Don’t talk rubbish!’ Robert lost control for a moment and turning away he poured himself another drink, swallowing half of it while his mother clicked her tongue irritably.

‘Can’t we all keep our tempers?’ she asked, through tight lips.

Robert turned back, the glass in his hand. ‘Very well, I’ll try and be brief. Michael left his shares in the company to the family to be kept in trust for Emma until she’s twenty-one. Until then, she is left in my guardianship.’

‘No!’ The word was torn incredulously from Julie’s lips.

‘Yes,’ said Robert inflexibly. ‘And I shouldn’t advise you to fight that!’

Julie out put a hand, catching the back of a chair to support herself. She couldn’t believe her ears. Michael couldn’t have made such a will. Not knowing … not knowing …

She closed her eyes. She thought she was going to faint and she heard Lucy say: ‘Good heavens, Robert, she’s going to pass out!’ before strong hands she hadn’t the will to shake off were lowering her firmly into a chair. Resting her head against the soft upholstery the feeling of faintness receded, and she opened her eyes again to find Robert about to put a glass of some amber liquid into her hand.

‘Drink this,’ he advised. ‘It will make you feel better.’

Julie’s breathing was short and constricted. ‘Nothing will make me feel better,’ she retorted childishly. ‘Take it away!’

Robert ignored her, pressing the glass into her hand so that she was forced to take it or spill it over her dress. ‘Don’t be foolish!’ he said coldly, straightening.

Julie looked at the glass unseeingly. She was trembling violently, and her mind was running round in circles trying to dismiss what had just been said as impossible.

‘You must go, Robert.’ Lucy was looking quite agitated now. ‘I can handle this.’

‘Can you?’ Robert looked sceptical.

‘Of course. Julie must be made to understand her position. As Michael’s widow—’

‘Oh, stop talking about me as though I wasn’t here!’ cried Julie, struggling up in her seat.

Robert looked at her dispassionately. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Are you prepared to discuss this reasonably?’

‘Reasonably? Reasonably? How can I be reasonable? Emma’s my child—’

‘But my responsibility,’ inserted Robert.

Julie shook her head helplessly. ‘Why would Michael do such a thing to me?’ she asked brokenly.

‘Don’t be maudlin,’ Lucy Pemberton was impatient. ‘My son had the sense to realize that should anything happen to him, the person most suited to bringing up his child should be his own brother.’

‘But I’m her mother!’ Julie protested.

‘Yes. And without us, what could you give her?’ Lucy sniffed. ‘You never had anything—’

‘Money’s not everything!’ cried Julie, gripping the arm of her chair with her free hand.

‘I didn’t mention money.’

‘No, but that’s what you meant, didn’t you?’

‘There are other – qualities—’

‘What do you mean?’ Julie caught her breath.

‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Robert ran a hand round the back of his neck, smoothing the hair that brushed his collar. ‘Let’s stop this arguing! It doesn’t matter for what reason Michael made his decision. The decision’s made now, and we must make the best of it.’

Julie thrust the untouched glass of brandy on to a side table. The smell had been enough for her. Then she got unsteadily to her feet. ‘I don’t want to make the best of it,’ she said. ‘I suppose that was why you wrote asking me to come here, wasn’t it?’ She was looking at Lucy now. ‘You knew if you told me the truth I might not agree.’

Robert heaved a sigh. ‘It might be true to say that my mother wrote to you to make things easier for you, but regardless of whether you like it or not, the will stands and will be adhered to whatever the circumstances.’

Julie swallowed hard. ‘I could contest it.’

‘You could,’ Robert agreed dryly. ‘But as my brother also states that you shall be cared for, too, I hardly think any lawyer would take the case.’ He made an impatient gesture. ‘What have you to contest?’

Julie moved her head slowly from side to side. ‘There – there must be ways,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I – I can’t be forced to live here.’

‘Agreed. You can live where you like. But if you want to remain with Emma, then you’ll have to do what I want you to do.’

‘Which is?’ Julie’s lip curled.

‘Remain here until the house I’ve bought in the country is prepared, and then live there, with Emma, and with a young governess I’ve already employed for her.’