Authors: Margaret Bingley
Her only regret was that she'd had to sell her double strand of pearls. They were the one finishing touch the dress needed, but it was no use looking back. Feeling generally satisfied, she went downstairs just as Neal arrived.
He looked at her for a long time. 'Am I all right?' she asked, beginning to feel quit uncomfortable and annoyed that her self-confidence was so fragile.
'You look incredible,' he said slowly. 'You're quite perfect. I'll be the envy of every man in the room.'
'I doubt it , but thank you for the compliment. Shall we go?'
'I've brought you something else,' he said slowly. 'However, after the perfume I'm not sure if… But let's see. If you don't like it, I'm sure you'll tell me! Turn round and close your eyes.'
She did as he asked, although she hated closing her eyes and feeling his hands moving near her throat, just as Toby's hands had once closed round it, trying to choke…
'It's all right,' he soothed, feeling her trembling. 'I'm not going to hurt you. Now, how do you think that looks? '
Lisa opened her eyes and glanced down. There, quite unmistakably, nestled her very own double strand of pearls. She gave a squeal of excitement. 'I was just wishing I'd still got them! How on earth did you manage it?'
'I never sold them.'
'But you gave me money.'
'I sold most of the pieces,' he lied, 'but these were too good. I couldn't bring myself to part with them, even for you. I take it I did right for once?'
'Absolutely right! Oh Neal, thank you so much!' She gave him a light kiss on his cheek.
'The car's outside,' he said quickly, hoping she couldn't tell how much the gesture meant to him. 'It won't do to be late.'
Just as they arrived outside Grosvenor House he leant across and whispered, 'I like your perfume,' in her ear, so that she was smiling broadly when they descended from the car and photographer's flashlights exploded around them.
'Surely they're only here for the Princess?' she said in surprise. 'Not at all. Everyone who comes tonight expects to get their picture in Tatler or Vogue.'
'Why?'
'They want the whole country to know how generous they are with their money, purchasing expensive tickets for unfortunate children.' 'The whole country doesn't read those magazines. Besides, if they didn't have a ball but simply donated the money, then the N.S.P.C.C. would benefit even more. The food and decorations must cost a fortune.'
'My dear girl, you mustn't begrudge people their chief pleasure in life!'
'What's that?'
'Dressing up and meeting each other, of course.' 'All the time?'
'Most of the time. You wait, you'll find it an addictive pastime, and these Balls do a lot of good so I don't want you turning cynical during the meal. Some of my friends might not appreciate it.'
'I promise to be good!' she laughed, and once again a flashlight popped as one of the photographers realised that here for once was a genuine beauty who was also new on the social scene, and decided to try and get an exclusive shot of her.
There were twelve people seated at their table, including themselves, and all the other women were over thirty, with one or two nearer fifty. Lisa felt very young and gauche. The men all smiled warmly at her and made conversation but she knew from the very beginning that the women were deliberately excluding her.
They were too well bred to make it obvious, but they spoke of people she didn't know and country houses she'd never heard of. Only one of them, a brunette in her mid-thirties, was overtly hostile and she made her move early on.
Princess Margaret had arrived, surprisingly petite and with glorious eyes that still had the ability to dazzle people, and the meal had begun when Bunny—as her friends called her—leant across the table to Lisa.
'Your gown's beautiful, Lisa. It is Lisa, isn't it?' She nodded. 'I've never seen one quite like it before. Tell me, did you make it yourself?' There was total silence. The men glanced at Neal, their faces frozen—particularly that of Bunny's husband—while even the women looked uneasy. Nevertheless they turned towards Lisa eagerly, awaiting her answer.
'Actually no,' she said calmly, hoping they couldn't hear the pounding of her heart or guess how horribly sick and unwanted she felt. 'It's a Victor Edelstein. I must tell him what you said. I'm sure he'll be terribly amused!'
'My dear, it was only a joke!' said Bunny quickly. 'Of course I recognised it as an Edelstein straight away. I've worn his gowns myself.'
'In that case I trust he sees the joke too!' said Neal with a distinctly chilly smile.
After that the hostility remained concealed, yet it was there all through the meal. The man on Lisa's left made valiant efforts at conversation but she found it difficult to respond. The watercress soup, the perfectly cooked saddle of lamb and the fresh strawberry mousse all tasted like cardboard to her, and most of her concentration went on forcing the food down.
When the meal was finally over and the speeches finished the ladies withdrew to repair their faces before the dancing began. Lisa was forced to accompany them but they didn't attempt to talk to her.
It was only when she was re-applying her lipstick in front of the mirror and heard the name Kay that she really started to listen to what they were saying.
'Utterly mutilated, darling. I know it's true because Graham's uncle has a friend in Interpol and he actually saw the body himself. He told Graham's uncle that there simply weren't enough rocks in that area to account for the mutilation. She'd even… ' The voice dropped and Lisa stared into the mirror. Kay. Did they mean the Kay that Neal had known, or was this another one? She doubted it, particularly when the oldest of the women present, Georgina Smythe, finally spoke directly to her.
'Did you know Kay?' she asked coldly. 'Kay who?'
'Neal Gueras's mistress.'
'I'm afraid not. Has something happened to her?'
The women raised their eyebrows and glanced knowingly at each other.
'I asked a civil question,' said Lisa forcefully. 'Obviously you intend to tell me something about her, so why don't you just get on with it instead of smirking and making half-audible remarks?'
Georgina was taken aback by the direct attack. 'Naturally we thought you knew,' she drawled.
'No you didn't, otherwise you wouldn't have bothered to start the conversation. She left Neal, didn't she?'
'She most certainly did! Her body was washed ashore in France a few weeks back. Didn't he tell you?'
'Why should he?'
'Surely you were interested in your predecessor's whereabouts?' asked Bunny aggressively. 'Or are you so bloody confident of yourself that you don't care? She'd been with him for years. We all thought that when Naomi finally… that is, if anything happened to Naomi, Kay and Neal would get married. But then you came along.'
'I'm afraid I don't see any connection between my friendship with Neal Gueras and Kay's death.'
'Then you're a great deal more stupid than you look!' snapped Georgina, and one or two women waiting their turn for the mirrors looked at her in surprise.
Lisa flushed and stood up. 'I take it Kay was a friend of yours?' 'She most certainly was.'
'Then I hope she'd have been proud of your behaviour tonight.
'Excuse me please,' and she swept out of the cloakroom.
Neal guessed something had gone wrong by Lisa's heightened colour but didn't question her. Instead he led her out on to the dance floor where couples were already enjoying the music. They danced well together. She was reasonably accomplished but Neal was very good. He was easy to follow, guiding her effortlessly round the room without holding her too tightly.
Some time later they slipped out on to one of the balconies surrounding the vast white oval ballroom and Lisa leant against the edge, her cheeks cooling in the night air. 'What happened to Kay?' she asked Neal abruptly.
He was standing just behind her but never even tensed. In fact, he put his hands lightly round her waist, while his voice was matter-of-fact and slightly regretful. 'She met with an accident shortly after she left me. I understand that she decided to take up sailing as a hobby, and contrary to all advice took a rather small boat across the Channel on a windy night. No one knows exactly what happened but she was finally washed up on the French coast a couple of weeks after she disappeared. I'm amazed she tried to do the trip alone, but you'd understand more about independent women than I would!'
'That's all there is to it?'
He bent and kissed the nape of her neck. 'What else could there be?'
'The women tonight said she'd been mutilated.'
'What a gruesome lot they are! Naturally she was mutilated. A body that's been thrown against rocks and debris for two weeks is bound to look disfigured. Victims of drowning don't reappear two weeks later in pristine condition.'
'You don't sound very upset!'
'I was, but there was nothing I could do, and it's all over now.
'What an unpleasant subject this is. Can't we change it?' 'I suppose so.'
'What did George Chapman talk about when you were dancing?'
Lisa gave a gurgle of laughter. 'The price of gold! He's worried over the South African situation.'
'He didn't tell you you were beautiful?' 'Of course not!'
'But Martin Grey did.'
'Yes, but as he's somewhat the worse for drink, that's hardly a compliment.'
'You are beautiful. The most beautiful woman here tonight.' 'Don't be silly!'
'I've already been approached by Patrick; he wants to take some studio portraits of you.'
'Patrick?'
'Never mind! Come closer and let me kiss you properly.'
Lisa pushed against his chest. 'Not here! Isn't it time we danced again?'
'If not here, then where?' he asked patiently. 'Back home.'
'Is that a promise?'
She laughed, elated by the wine and his belief in her beauty. 'Yes, it's a promise.'
'Once Princess Margaret's left, we'll go.'
At three a.m. the princess and her party left, and at three minutes past , Neal and Lisa, after he had exchanged a brief word with Georgina Smythe's husband who nodded nervously. Lisa didn't say goodnight to anyone, privately resolving never to have anything to do with any of them again.
'Was the evening a success, sir?' asked Mike, opening the car door for them.
'Excellent, thank you. We'll go to the mews.'
'They thought I'd made my own dress!' laughed Lisa. Mike turned his head away to hide his amusement.
'You don't need to tell him every detail, darling,' reproved Neal, but Lisa looked out of her window and pretended not to hear.
Back at the mews, Mike drove Nurse Clarke to her small town house, leaving Lisa alone with a distinctly affectionate Neal. She tried to keep up a stream of cheerful chatter while making the coffee. 'I didn't come for coffee,' he said quietly. 'I was promised a kiss, remember?'
'How about coffee first?'
'Lisa, do stop fidgeting around in the kitchen and come and sit down. Now, did you enjoy the evening?' As he spoke he maneuvered her onto the settee and put an arm round the back of her neck .
'Not the women, but I enjoyed everything else. Why didn't they like me?'
'I don't imagine women are ever very keen on you!'
'I've always got on with other girls perfectly well. I had lots of friends at school.'
'This is real life, and these women are all fighting to keep their looks, their husband and their social position. A beautiful newcomer is hardly likely to be met with rapturous glee.'
'Why not? I don't want their grotty husbands, or their social position.'
'They don't know that.'
She felt his left hand wandering near her left breast and tried to ease away from him. 'That's not a kiss!'
'I can't kiss you when you keep turning your head away,' he protested.
Deciding that there were worse things than a kiss, and genuinely feeling affectionate towards him, Lisa turned her face up to his, but his kiss wasn't soft and caressing as she'd expected. Instead it was almost harsh, his mouth hard against hers, his tongue probing insistently between her lips until she finally opened her mouth to him.
After the first panic-filled seconds she found that it wasn't unpleasant to have a man's mouth on hers again, and even his hands on her breasts, slipping easily down the front of the ballgown and gently manipulating her nipples, weren't displeasing. In fact, provided that she let her mind roam free and didn't allow memories from the past to intrude, it was acceptably pleasant.
Only when she felt his right hand easing its way up her thigh did she resist, and he stopped at once. He expected to be stopped at that point; indeed he would probably have been disappointed if she'd allowed him to continue, and so he drew away from her as she straightened her clothing and ran her fingers through her hair.
'I'm very tired,' she apologised. 'Would you mind if I… ?'
He touched her lightly on the chin. 'Not at all. I should be going. I've got to visit Naomi and the girls this weekend and I'll need to be up early in the morning. It was a lovely evening, and I hope there'll be many more of them for us.'
'It was lovely to get out again. I'd forgotten what a real social life was.'
'About your working… ' 'Well?'
'I wonder if you'd mind thinking about this over the weekend. Now that Kay's gone I'm desperately in need of a hostess; someone to take to social events and to act as my partner when I give dinner parties. It takes a lot of time to do all that properly, and I'd really prefer it if you could take her place rather than going out to an office to earn your crust of bread!'
'You mean you'd pay me? Like a girl from an escort agency?' she said indignantly.
'Not at all, but I'd meet all your living expenses and put a little money into a bank account for you so that you weren't entirely dependent upon me. You must see that it would fit in with Jessica better than anything else. I'm not that difficult to be with, am I?' 'And who warms your bed?' she asked shortly.