Penny Jordan - The Inward Storm

She couldn’t stay here cowering away all night, Kate told herself shakily, hardly able to bear to face her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a child who had been beaten. Defeat lay starkly at the back of her eyes, her skin as pale as skimmed milk. She stared at the dress hanging on the back of the door. She had bought it on a mad impulse in London. Matt black silk, it was American, Calvin Klein, with long tight sleeves and a neckline that dipped almost to the waist at the front, where the silk was caught up in a soft knot, the skirt of the dress caught up in the same way, so that it revealed the slender length of her thighs when she moved. It clung so tightly to her skin that all she could wear beneath it was a pair of fine silk panties. The choker of pearls Lyla had given her as a wedding present did little to make the dress appear more modest, but in reality it revealed far less of her body than Rita’s rustling boned-bodiced taffeta. But it was the way it hinted at what wasn’t revealed that made it a dress designed by a man for a woman with his own sex in mind, Kate reflected as she brushed her hair and let it settle round her shoulders in a heavy cloud, knowing there wasn’t time to do anything else with it. Black high-heeled satin sandals, and the careful application of enough make-up to give her a gloss of colour, completed her preparations, tiny diamond ear studs winking in her ears when she moved and the chestnut curls drifted languorously against her shoulders.

Instead of joining the others in the drawing room she went straight to the kitchen to check on the meal. The vegetables were all prepared ready for cooking when everyone had arrived. Heaving a faint sigh of relief that everything was under control, Kate walked unsteadily into the hall, smoothing slightly damp palms against her hips as she took a deep breath and walked into the drawing room. Conversation stopped. Out of the corner of her eye Kate was aware of Rita regarding her with barely concealed chagrin, Jake at her side, his enigmatical grey glance slicing towards her, warning her that he was not deceived; that he knew she was still the vulnerable child she had always been, despite the trappings of womanhood she was now able to assume.

‘Kate … Kate, you look magnificent,’ Kevin muttered, plainly stunned by her appearance.

‘My dear, you did go overboard, didn’t you?’ Rita said nastily. ‘Did you go down to London especially to buy it? You should be honoured, Jake,’ she told her companion. ‘Kate’s normal attire is jeans and an ancient woolly jumper. Kate runs our local craft shop.’ She made it sound as though she had straws stuck in her hair, Kate thought irefully. ‘She’s also a fantastic cook, unlike poor little me!’ Rita batted her eyelashes winsomely.

‘I bought the dress in London, the last time I went to New York,’ Kate interposed coolly. ‘Another sherry, Rita? You prefer sweet, don’t you?’ Heavens, what was getting into her? Kate wondered. She was being nearly as bitchy as Rita. Fortunately the doorbell rang before the situation could deteriorate any further, and as luck would have it Lisa and Richard had arrived at exactly the same time as the Crabtrees.

‘Kate, this melon is delicious,’ Mary Crabtree enthused when they were halfway through the first course. ‘I’ve never tasted anything like it. By the way, I’ve made Alan promise to buy me one of your lovely jumpers for Christmas, and I mean to make sure he does,’ she added, smiling at her husband. ‘Kate designs the most beautiful jumpers,’ she told Jake who was seated on her right. ‘She sells them in London and New York and has a regular circle of knitters working for her in Ebbdale.’

‘She’s also absolutely anti your power station, darling,’ Rita cut in bitchily. ‘I swear she’d have us all dancing around it like those Greenham Common women if she could, wouldn’t you, Kate?’

‘It’s no secret that I disapprove of missiles being based in this country,’ Kate agreed smoothly, her eyes meeting Jake’s down the length of the table. ‘I’m a firm believer in multilateral disarmament, and I’m sorry if you don’t approve of that, Mr Harvey.’

‘Are you?’ Jake challenged softly. Everyone’s attention seemed to be riveted on her, Kate realised, and she could sense that Rita was furious at this turn of events. Kate knew quite well that the only reason Rita had mentioned her anti-nuclear stance was to draw it to Jake’s attention, not to make Kate the centre of everyone else’s.

‘Well, I for one admire and agree with Kate,’ Lisa was saying. ‘Oh, I know you don’t agree with me, Richard,’ she silenced her husband, ‘but the thought of what could happen if a reactor went wrong gives me the shivers, and I can’t believe that adequate precautions are taken with the transport of nuclear waste. You only have to read the papers …’

‘Yes,’ Kevin broke in eagerly, ‘that’s one aspect of nuclear power that worries me, and it’s one I wanted to bring up with you, Jake. During your predecessor’s time we campaigned hard to tighten up the safety standards, but Henry was a bit of a diehard … Please don’t think we’ve dragged you here tonight to bombard you with arguments and persuasion but if you could spare the time to talk with me about the safety standards …’

‘I am always interested in discussions that could lead to an improvement in that quarter,’ Jake surprised Kate by saying smoothly. ‘In fact at the station I’ve been working on in the States, we found there was a marked decrease in antipathy towards nuclear power once we invited the local people in to see how it works. We ran several tours, gave talks, asked them for their views and thoughts, and set up a working committee comprised of some of our staff and the locals … and you mustn’t lose sight of the fact that these stations often bring work to areas of high unemployment …’

‘Work, ill health and the potential for death,’ Kate interrupted bitterly. He was mesmerising them with his voice, with his reasoned arguments and calm approach, but she wasn’t deceived, not for a moment.

‘That’s a typically female and if you’ll forgive me, rather hysterical reaction,’ Jake countered coolly. ‘Coal mining, engineering, and many other forms of employment are hazardous, but I’ve yet to see a bunch of hysterical women gathered round a pithead screeching for it to be closed.’

‘It isn’t just the manner of the work,’ Kate protested. ‘It’s everything that goes with it!’

‘If you mean missiles, that isn’t the purpose of Ebbdale’s station. It’s a nuclear power station only. Missiles are a separate entity, but again I can’t agree with you. They are a deterrent, whichever way you look at it. In a world of perfect human beings we wouldn’t need them, I’d be the first to agree, but unfortunately when Adam bit into that apple, he absorbed more than the mere knowledge of sex; mankind is its own worst enemy. For centuries we’ve systematically destroyed our planet and our environment …’

‘And now you’re prepared to go one step further and destroy it completely!’

‘Not personally,’ Jake assured her grimly. His mouth had tightened and she recognised the icy sparks glittering from the cold grey eyes. He had changed, she thought, watching him. There were the faint beginnings of grey in the matt darkness of his hair, hair she had loved to ruffle beneath her fingers, to stroke as he made love to her. ‘Try looking at the other side of the coin,’ he advised her harshly. ‘Nuclear power could free this planet from starvation and poverty, third world nations …’

‘Can’t wait to build missiles with it,’ Kate interrupted him huskily, ‘people are expendable, power is not!’

‘Oh, Kate, for goodness’ sake,’ Rita interrupted pouting a smile at Jake, ‘poor Jake came here for a meal, not to be harangued. Honestly, darling, you’d better watch it, you’re turning into a fanatic. Kate’s divorced, you know,’ she confided to Jake, making Kate feel sick inside as she forced herself to look into his implacable face. ‘Poor darling, she does tend to get dreadfully intense at times.’