Alexandra Scott - Charlie's Dad

‘Is it all right?’ The significance of that query occurred to her much later, but she knew that even fully aware her answer would have been the same.

Begrudging every inch that separated them, she reached up, biting gently but with fierce impatience on his lower lip. ‘Everything will be all right, if only...’ And in an attack of sudden modesty she murmured against his ear.

And he laughed. A deep, growly sound which resonated in his chest, primitive and satisfying in a way she could not describe and which she could never forget.

It was hard, at this distance, to understand how they had been able to keep their affair from the others during the next few days. Possibly because they had been similarly preoccupied, and it had not occurred to either Helen or Ben to flaunt what they’d felt for each other. Or at least what she’d felt. Time seemed to prove that for Ben Congreve it had been little more than a holiday romance, passionate and exciting while it lasted, a very enjoyable interlude, but one that was easily forgotten once he sailed off to another continent. To another life—where he had a fiancée waiting, the preacher booked and the wedding gown ordered.

But of course she had known nothing of those when he had first made gentle and skilful love to her, nor on the subsequent nights, when things had grown still more intense and passionate. And even if she had known, she was uncertain the knowledge would have been a deterrent.

It had been a long time before she was able to admit as much—after she had passed through periods of desolation and anguish. Only then was she honest enough to admit that nothing would have kept her from him. And in one way at least she had never regretted it. Oh, for heaven’s sake, why be coy? There was no way she regretted what had been the definitive experience of her life.

But that was not to say she hadn’t been deeply wounded when, one evening after he had sailed off, after all his promises, she’d overheard the casual conversation between two of the American girls who had known him well.

‘Yeah.’ The tall blonde straightened up from the bowl where she was scrubbing at the deposits on some old pottery lids. ‘In the fall, I understand. They have known each other for ever and Ben’s parents are delighted with the engagement. She’s a year or two younger—about twenty-three or four—and filthy rich, of course. But those are the circles they move in, so I imagine...’

Unwilling to hear any more, Helen walked away, eyes filmed with misery, throat choked as she stared over the ocean, that same glorious expanse of water which had shielded them, which had absorbed their cries of pleasure.

The pressure in her chest was causing real pain. So, this was what it was all about, that first slight reticence, the avoidance of so many personal details, no offer of an address or telephone number where he could be contacted. He had taken her parents’ Sydney number with the assurance that her London address would soon be available, and what was it he had murmured in her ear just before they said goodbye?

‘I shall be with you just as soon as I can... Just one or two problems to be sorted out and I shall be on a flight. No chance of sailing—much too slow.’

So, she had stood on the headland until the last tiny patch of sale had vanished from the horizon, confident and happy that soon they would be together again. And even after overhearing that conversation she didn’t lose hope. She was simply impatient to be done with this stupid diving exercise so she could find herself an address in London. Where she could wait for his call to bring an end to this agonising uncertainty. Nothing else in the world mattered to her.

CHAPTER TWO

SINGAPORE the following day was as frantic and fascinating as Ellie remembered. She and Jenny spent a diverting morning drifting round the prestigious stores and the more ethnic boutiques, buying this and that. Several presents were bought for Charlie and friends at home, then, after lunch at Raffles, they were driven, exhausted, back to the apartment.

‘It is just so hot.’ Jenny sighed with relief as they walked into the air-conditioned rooms, going straight to the space-age kitchen, reaching into the refrigerator for a jug of fresh orange juice. She filled two glasses, one of which she handed to Ellie. ‘I suggest we have a siesta in preparation for this evening.’

‘This evening?’ Ellie, who was deeply weary, stifled a yawn. ‘What do you mean? Don’t forget I’m on an early flight tomorrow.’

‘That is exactly why I’m suggesting a rest this afternoon. Tonight we eat out, maybe dance. You see—’ she strolled back to the salon, Ellie in her wake ‘—we’ve been invited out to one of the newer nightspots.’

‘I hope this hasn’t been laid on for my benefit, Jenny. I wouldn’t have thought Robert was all that keen. In fact, last night I heard him say his idea of a perfect evening was to spend it at home alone...’

‘I hope he didn’t say that exactly. If he did then our guests might have taken it as a hint for them to leave early...’

‘Which is exactly what they did not do.’ Ellie laughed. ‘No, Robert was more diplomatic about it. In fact, I think he said “alone with a few friends”—which is most likely why they all hung on till gone midnight.’

‘Mmm. Well, Robert is nothing if not diplomatic—though he can be very ruthless too when the mood takes him.’ She paused, walked to the mirror above the side table and fiddled with a jade earring. She was studiedly casual. ‘What did you think of Ben Congreve?’

‘Ben Congreve?’ The mere mention of the name she had been trying to forget brought her out in a cold sweat, heart hammering loud enough to be heard across the room. ‘Oh, he seemed pleasant enough.’ She was immediately struck by the banality of the description for such a man—it was sure to make Jenny suspicious. ‘Oh, more than that, I would say a very interesting man.’

‘But not interesting enough for you, Ellie?’ It was a carefully judged question, and without turning her head Ellie was aware of her friend’s close scrutiny. ‘Now, I wonder why that should be?’ Jenny’s ridiculously high heels tap-tapped on the marble floor as she strolled to join her friend at the window. ‘I wonder why that should be, my dear? I would have thought most women would have immediately been struck by him.’

‘And what about you?’ Time for a diversionary tactic. ‘Are you one of those knocked sideways by the famous writer?’ Her smile, the teasing expression, were indications that they were engaged in an amusing game, nothing more.

‘At one time,’ Jenny confessed, hands outspread to show she was concealing nothing, ‘I might easily have been, but now I am in what looks like being a permanent and very constant relationship. Whereas you...’

‘Whereas I—’ deliberately she copied Jenny’s apologetic and self-mocking gesture ‘—I have Charlie.’ And what, she asked silently, did Ben Congreve know about constant relationships? The thought, the words she had so often used as explanation and excuse, combined to make her feel as if a large rock had invaded her chest. ‘And I’m not in the market for any kind of relationship right now, permanent or casual.’ Especially the latter, since she knew exactly how much heartbreak would ensue.

‘Mmm.’ Jenny’s non-committal expression was clearly sceptical, but she was disinclined to pursue the subject. ‘Anyway, I shall send Ay Leng to your room with some tea, then you can have an hour or two to prepare for the evening. ‘Oh...’ She grimaced as she stepped out of her shoes. ‘My poor feet... Robert tells me I ought not to torture myself with such high heels, but if they were lower, no one would notice me.’

‘That,’ Ellie grinned, ‘is something I find very hard to believe.’