Anne Mather - Castles Of Sand

Ashley tried to pull away from him, but he would not let her go, and her fury erupted into passion. ‘Why are you doing this, Alain?’ she cried, balling her fists and attempting to strike him. ‘Why are you telling me these things? Haven’t I suffered enough, is that it? Don’t you have any pity, any compassion? How do you think I felt, seeing my own son, knowing he didn’t recognise me? What more do you want of me, you bastard!’

‘You have a viper’s tongue, Ashley,’ he drawled, but she could tell her insults had annoyed him. ‘However, I am prepared to believe that seeing the boy has temporarily unhinged your brain, and therefore I will not retaliate in kind.’

‘How good of you!’ Ashley threw back her head as the heavy weight of her hair fell across her forehead. ‘Well, let me tell you, I was never more sane in my life, and I don’t need your tolerance or your offer of help!’

Alain’s expression was grim. ‘Nevertheless, you will listen to me.’

‘Will I? Will I?’ Ashley deliberately taunted him, knowing she was nearing the end of her nervous reserves, desperate for him to go before she broke down completely. ‘And how will you make me? By—by fair means—or foul?’

Alain shook her, violently, so that her head rocked alarmingly back and forth, the swinging curtain of her hair seeming to make it almost too heavy for her slender neck to support. ‘I came to the school to withdraw Hussein’s name from the register,’ he grated savagely. ‘I do not know why I brought him with me, except perhaps that he wanted to come. I did not expect to see you. The school is not due to open for two days. How was I to know that one of its teachers—–’

Ashley’s head lolled back. ‘You mean—you knew !’

‘That you were employed there, yes. Since I brought Hussein to London, I found out.’

Ashley blinked. ‘And—and that was why you wanted to withdraw his name?’

‘Of course.’ Alain looked down at his fingers digging into the fine cotton of her smock, and allowed them to slacken slightly. ‘You do not suppose I would permit otherwise?’

Ashley tried to think, but coherent thought was difficult. ‘A-and?’

‘Your Mr Henley explained that you had resigned,’ he replied flatly. ‘For the same reason, one would suppose.’

‘One would suppose correctly,’ said Ashley tautly. ‘So?’

‘So—Hussein’s name remains on the register. At least, until this matter is settled.’

‘What matter?’

‘The matter of your employment,’ said Alain, releasing her abruptly to thrust his hands into the pockets of his dark trousers. And as she gazed at him nonplussed: ‘I have a proposition to put to you.’

Ashley’s tongue came to circle her lips. ‘A proposition?’ she echoed, even as her brain refused to take it in. She was still stunned by the knowledge that he had known of her involvement with Brede School before their encounter that morning, and she knew him too well to trust any proposal he might make.

‘Won’t you sit down now?’ he suggested briefly, indicating the couch behind him, but Ashley shook her head.

‘Thank you, I prefer to stand,’ she retorted coldly, and had the satisfaction of seeing that she had annoyed him once again.

‘Very well,’ he said at last, moving away from her, and she had a momentary premonition that he was not as controlled as he appeared. Just for a second, when he looked at her, she had glimpsed a curious expression in his eyes, but then the mask fell into place and he was once more his father’s eldest son.

‘There is a post,’ he said, standing before the screened fireplace with his back to her. ‘In Cairo. A friend of mine requires a governess for his two daughters. It will be a well-paid position, with every amenity available to someone of your—–’

‘No!’ The word burst from Ashley in incensed denial. ‘No, I don’t want your rotten post! My work is here, in England. If I choose to take a private position, it will be of my choosing, not yours!’

‘Do you not wish to work in Egypt, is that it? You would prefer some other place?’ Alain still did not turn. ‘Perhaps I could make other arrangements—–’

‘No!’ Ashley’s response was the same, and now he did turn, slowly, to face her.

‘You will not change your mind?’ he enquired, his face grim, and she shook her head. ‘Very well, then. I will withdraw Hussein from the school.’

‘Why? Ashley took an involuntary step towards him, her bewilderment plain. ‘Why? I’ve resigned—Malcolm told you that. What more do you want?’

‘Malcolm?’ Alain’s dark brows arched interrogatively. ‘Who is—Malcolm?’

‘Malcolm Henley,’ exclaimed Ashley impatiently. ‘Mr Henley, the headmaster.’

Alain’s mouth tightened. ‘It would appear you know him better than I thought,’ he said accusingly. ‘He is your—friend, perhaps. Your—lover?’

Ashley’s face flamed. ‘No! That is—Malcolm is a friend, yes.’ And then, realising she was stammering like a schoolgirl, she added fiercely: ‘It’s no business of yours what our relationship is.’

Alain stiffened. ‘Then he is your lover. And this is why you do not wish to leave London.’

‘No!’ Ashley didn’t know why she felt the need to defend herself, but she did. ‘I simply don’t want to leave my home, this apartment; and—and all my friends.’

Alain breathed deeply. ‘Then I have no choice.’

‘Why not?’ Ashley linked her fingers together as an idea occurred to her. ‘Are you afraid I’ll try to see—to see him? To identify myself to him?’

Alain bent his head. ‘The situation is hypothetical. I will not leave him here.’

‘Don’t you trust me, Alain?’ she exclaimed, and he lifted his head to look at her.

‘Is there any reason why I should?’ he retorted bleakly, and a small gasp of pain escaped her.

‘Yes,’ she retorted fiercely. ‘Yes. I—I’ve never lied to you—–’

‘We will not go into that,’ he interrupted her harshly. ‘Lies, deceptions, call it what you will, I have no time to concern myself with such things. They are over, in the past, and the past is dead.’

‘No. No, it’s not.’ Ashley was indignant. ‘You can’t say these things to me and expect no retaliation. And why shouldn’t I see my son? Even divorced women have such rights.’

‘Not in my country,’ retorted Alain shortly, raising one hand to massage the back of his neck, as if he was tense too. ‘Ashley, why can you not be reasonable? You need another post. I am offering you one. According to your—friend Henley, you will not find it easy to take up another appointment at this time.’

Ashley faltered. ‘What did you say to him? What did you tell him?’

Alain shrugged. ‘Only that I was withdrawing Hussein from the school.’

‘Nothing else?’

His expression grew remote. ‘You think I would discuss my private affairs with a stranger?’

Ashley shook her head. ‘Then how did you find out I was leaving?’

Alain frowned. ‘It was Henley. He made the point that perhaps I was unhappy that Hussein’s form tutor was to be a woman, and went on to explain that you had handed in your resignation. Naturally, I agreed to give the matter further consideration.’

‘I see.’ Ashley nodded, but now Alain looked wary.

‘Why?’ he pressed her. Then, with a darkening anger: ‘Does Henley know of this matter? You cannot have told him that Hussein is your son!’

He was incensed, and she felt a bitter sense of satisfaction. ‘Why not?’ she taunted. ‘I told you, Malcolm is a friend, as well as my superior.’

‘Diable!’ Alain crossed the floor towards her in two savage strides. ‘You are telling me this man is familiar with our private affairs? That you have confided our most personal relationships to him?’