Anne Mather - Come Running

Mrs. Lawford studied her pale face for several seconds, and then she nodded. “All right, Darrell, I can appreciate that. Now – how about a nice cup of tea?”

Evelyn telephoned from Palma soon after ten, and Mr. Lawford roused himself to come downstairs and listen to the call. Formalities there were taking longer than expected, and Evelyn did not expect to return home until Tuesday at the earliest. Fortunately, the bodies were recognisable, the plane having ploughed into a hillside and killed most people on impact. This made things easier for the authorities, and less harrowing for the relatives, but it was still a gruelling experience and Evelyn could not hide her emotion when she heard her father’s voice. There seemed little doubt, she said, that the crash had been the result of an error on the part of the pilot, coming in too low over the mountains and then failing to gain altitude again when it became apparent that he was descending too fast. There were a number of theories, of course, but this seemed to be the most consistent one.

By the time the call was over, they were all feeling the strain of a renewed awareness of the tragedy that had occurred. For a while its sharpness had been blunted, but now it was as acute as ever. It would take many more than twenty-four hours for them all to accept the finality of it all.

It was after eleven when Darrell washed up the last few dishes, and went to find her jacket. It was hung over the banister in the hall and she was putting it on when Matthew came out of the lounge.

“Are you ready to leave?” he enquired politely.

Darrell heaved a sigh. “Yes. But you don’t have to take me. I mean – I can easily call a cab.”

“Why? My car’s outside. I said I would take you home.”

“I know you did.” Darrell’s fingers tightened round her handbag. “But—”

“Would you rather Jeff took you home?” he asked, that direct stare devastating her.

“I don’t want to trouble anybody.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m quite prepared to take you.”

Mrs. Lawford appeared behind her son. “Leaving now, Darrell, are you? That’s right. You go and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll see you tomorrow. And thank you for all you’ve done.”

Darrell moved awkwardly. “I’ve done nothing,” she protested.

Mrs. Lawford managed a smile. “Don’t you believe it.” She turned to her eldest son. “You’re taking Darrell home, aren’t you, Matt? Drive carefully, won’t you? We don’t want …” She allowed the remainder of the sentence to go unsaid, but her meaning was obvious.

Matthew’s eyes challenged Darrell to contradict his mother, and with a sigh she went to the door of the lounge and called goodnight to the others. Celine was there, sitting moodily on the arm of a chair, staring at the television which was playing away entirely for her benefit. Everyone else was talking. Darrell half hoped she would look up and offer to go with them, but apart from an irritated glance in Darrell’s direction, she made no move. The inevitable cigarette was dangling from her fingers, and she smoked it with swift nervous gestures.

Outside the big B.M.W. looked incongruous in the narrow street. Jeff’s Mini was parked behind it, and Matthew viewed his brother’s vehicle with vague impatience.

“I can get Jeff’s keys if you’ve rather go in the Mini,” he suggested dryly, and Darrell stood by the door of the B.M.W., waiting for him to open it, feeling decidedly put out.

The drive across town was accomplished as silently as they had come, and it seemed no time at all before they were drawing up outside the apartment building. Only then did Darrell feel a sense of contrition at her childish behaviour

“Thank you,” she said, glancing at him reluctantly.

“No sweat.” He shrugged indifferently. Then, as she was about to get out, he added quietly: “You must tell me if I’m interrupting some scene you and Jeff have got going for you. I got the impression, perhaps mistakenly, from Susan, that you were not interested.”

“I’m not – that is –” Darrell broke off awkwardly. “I’m sorry if I was – ungrateful. I’m not, truly. It’s just – well, I’m tired, I suppose, and not very tactful.”

He half turned in his seat towards her, his face shadowed in the light from the street lamps. “Why should you need to be tactful?” he asked softly. “That’s a curious expression to use.”

Darrell sighed. “It was a figure of speech, that’s all. I – oh, goodnight, Mr. Lawford. And thank you again.”

With trembling fingers, she thrust open the door and climbed out, slamming it behind her. Then she ran up the steps into the building, stopping with a thumping heart when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Come on,” he said, taking her arm, “I’ll see you into the flat. I don’t like the idea of you coming home alone at this time of night.”

Darrell had no choice but to agree, although his fingers at her elbow sent little electric currents down her veins into her hand. He released her at her door and she sought the key in the bottom of her bag, inserting it in the lock with unsteady fingers. Once the door was open and the lamps switched on, she turned back to him with feigned nonchalance.

“You see – no intruders!” she remarked lightly.

“Why are you afraid of me, Darrell?” he asked unexpectedly, one hand supporting himself against the open door.

“Af-afraid of you?” Darrell faltered. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Matthew studied her suddenly heated cheeks with resignation. “Yes, you do,” he returned flatly. “You’re as nervous as a wild cat when I’m around. Why? What do you expect me to do to you? What has Susan told you about me that’s given me such a bad reputation?”

Darrell gasped. “I – you’re imagining things, Mr. Lawford.”

“Am I?” Matthew folded his arms. “I wonder.” He smiled, but it was a rather twisted sort of smile. “Did she tell you that I live some kind of amoral life? That I mix with people whose whole object in life is the pursuit of pleasure? Well, maybe she was right. The codes I live by might not go down too well in a place like Sedgeley. But I am not without conscience, Miss Anderson, and contrary to belief, I’ve never been unfaithful to my wife!”

Darrell didn’t know where to look or what to say. She felt totally and completely demoralised, the more so because she had judged him without scruples.

“So …” Matthew turned to go out the door, “I’ll say goodnight. My mother told me you’ve been given the week off, so no doubt we’ll see one another again. Goodbye.”

The door closed behind him and Darrell stood staring at it feeling sick and distraught. And this time, it had nothing to do with Susan and Frank.

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