Dark Paradise (24 page)

He moved restively. 'Don't call her that—I hate the word. It makes me sick to my stomach!'

She said, 'Then why do you stay? Why don't you persuade your father to let you go away—make a different life for yourself?'

He said, 'I wish it were that simple. But my father needs me, and that's why I stay here. And there may come a time when he'll need me more than ever. I—I wish I could explain, but it's impossible.' He paused, then said bitterly as if he sensed she had reservations, 'Do you think I haven't wanted to escape? I have—so often. I tell myself that no one knows who I am, that my papers give me a new identity. But at the same time, something hints to me that the world outside these islands contains a lot of my father's enemies, and that they might trace him through me.' He hesitated. 'Or perhaps that's just what I tell myself, and the truth is that I'm a coward, and worse than a coward.'

He stopped abruptly, and picked up her case. 'Is this everything? Are you ready to go?'

Kate nodded, and he gave her a searching look. 'You don't wish to say goodbye to anyone—Matt Lincoln, perhaps?'

Her voice barely audible, she said, 'I'd rather just— leave.' She hesitated. 'Your father…'

'Will be resting,' he interrupted swiftly. 'It would be better not to disturb him. I will make your excuses when I return, then only one of us will have to bear the brunt of his anger.'

Kate tried to smile. 'I'm sorry if it's going to mean trouble for you. I didn't intend that.'

Carlos shrugged dismissively. 'It does not matter.'

He led the way downstairs and she followed, aware of Jakey's surprised stare as they passed him on their way to the front door. Kate got into the passenger seat of the car. She was in a ridiculous agony of apprehension as Carlos stowed her case in the boot, terrified that Jethro might find out somehow, and prevent her departure. She was almost sick with relief when he took his place behind the wheel and the car moved off.

She sat staring down at her hands tightly clenched in her lap, without speaking or looking up until the house and its environs were safely out of sight.

'Well,' Maria said critically, 'I can't say that your holiday appears to have done you much good.'

Kate made herself smile. 'You know what they say,' she returned lightly. 'That you always need another holiday to recover.'

'Hm.' Maria looked her up and down. 'So what went wrong? Did they give you a room over the disco?'

Kate bit her lip. 'N-no, nothing like that. I'm all right,' she said hastily. 'I'll be fine after I've had some sleep. The flight back was a bit tiring.'

'From Spain?' Maria's brows soared.

'From anywhere, I hate flying,' Kate told her, and escaped to her flat.

Maria's concern wasn't altogether surprising, she conceded, eyeing herself ruefully in the full-length mirror. She looked like a ghost with a tan.

She had finally relaxed as the plane from St Lucia taxied for take-off, realising that now there was no possible chance of Matt appearing to demand an explanation as she had feared—or hoped, she thought with self-derision.

She would carry that image of him disappearing into a room with Leanne like a scar for the rest of her life, yet it had made no basic difference to the way she felt about him. She had dozed uneasily on the plane, and each time she had dreamed that she was in Matt's arms and that he was making love to her.

She thought drearily, 'At least I have the memory of it to remember.'

She did the minimum of unpacking, had a warm bath and went to bed, and this time exhaustion had its way with her, and she slept deeply and dreamlessly in familiar surroundings.

She realised when she woke that she had slept the clock round. Maria was knocking on the door with an invitation to supper that night.

'No, of course it's no trouble,' she broke reassuringly across Kate's protests. 'Felix has invited some people from the paper, so an extra one will make no difference. And I'd have arranged something anyway if I'd known you were coming back.'

Kate spent a leisurely day. She did some chores and shopped for food. She supposed she should phone Clive and tell him she was back, and ready to start the new illustrations, but she was oddly reluctant to take up the old threads again quite so quickly. For a couple of days, she thought, she would live in the past, examining everything that had happened, and generally getting her head together. She owed herself that. She didn't want to see people, especially her family, until she had come to terms with it all and learned to dissemble. It would have been a relief to have gone home and cried, put all her hurt and bitterness and disillusion in her mother's lap as she'd done when a child, but she couldn't do that any more, because it wasn't fair to worry her mother with her problems. She had never said a word about Drew for fear of upsetting her, and she would pursue the same policy over Matt.

And if her mother's natural shrewdness led her to ask questions, she would simply say that there had been a man, but it hadn't worked out.

As simple as that, she thought, and knew that it wouldn't be simple at all.

She was taken aback that evening to discover that one of the other guests was Lorna Bryce. She wondered awkwardly if Maria remembered the conversation they had had concerning her, but Maria's introdctions were so casually performed that Kate assumed she had probably forgotten all about it.

Lorna was a vividly attractive girl, blonde and chic, and Kate found herself wondering why Matt had ever let her go.

Lorna's smile was friendly too. 'Maria says you've just come back from Spain. I was in Marbella for a while last year, and loved it. Whereabouts were you?'

Kate hesitated, hideously embarrassed, aware that her mind had gone a complete blank. She supposed she could mention one of the well-known resorts like Benidorm or Torremolinos, and hope that Lorna hadn't been there too, and expect her to quote hotels and restaurants.

Lorna gave her a puzzled look. 'What's wrong? Is it a secret?'

'Not—not exactly.' Kate decided to come clean. 'As a matter of fact, I didn't go to Spain at all. I went somewhere else.'

'Oh, I see.' Lorna's smile was shrewd and understanding. 'And unless I miss my guess, there's a man involved.'

Kate sighed ruefully. 'Am I that transparent?'

'I recognise the signs,' said Lorna. 'I took a hell of a toss some time ago myself.'

Kate winced. She had a crazy desire to say, 'Snap.'

Lorna went on, 'Everyone told me what a fool I was being, but I wouldn't listen. I really thought it was the real thing, and that I'd be his one and only for ever.' She laughed drily. 'I soon learned differently!'

Kate stared down into her glass of wine, wondering what would happen if she ran out of the room screaming. Of all the women in the world, Lorna's confidences were the last ones she wanted to hear about.

Lorna added almost casually, 'I hope yours wasn't married too?'

'Married?' The sound came out almost as a squeak. Kate paused, recovering herself. 'No—no, of course not.'

Lorna shrugged wryly. 'It happens. It happened to me. I believed every word he said, especially the ones about leaving his wife. Needless to say he had no intention of doing so. I was one in a long line.' She paused. 'When the crash came, I was fortunate in having some good friends to pick me up again. I'll always be grateful to them.' She smiled. 'Felix and Maria were among them—and Matt, of course,' she added casually.

Kate went very still. 'Matt?' She was afraid Lorna would hear the shake in her voice.

'Matt Lincoln, she said, name-dropping.' Lorna wrinkled her nose. 'He was fantastic, though. He made me want to go on living, and there were times when I hadn't wanted that at all.' She was silent for a moment while Kate tried to collect her reeling thoughts. 'I suppose if you've only ever seen him on television, he comes across as a bit of a ruthless bastard, but privately he's not like that at all.' She smiled reflectively. 'It was good of him to stand by me, particularly as a lot of people thought that he was the man I'd fallen for, and blamed him accordingly. And, even though he was one of the few who knew Jeff's real identity, he still didn't give me away, although it can't have been pleasant for him.'

Kate swallowed. 'N-no.' Her mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what Lorna was saying, and failing. She wanted to ask more, but she had to be careful. Lorna had recovered from her hurt, and could speak frankly about it, but it would be a long time—perhaps never—before Kate could take anyone similarly into her confidence about Matt.

And at that moment, Maria came to call them into the dining room for supper, and she and Lorna were sited at different ends of the table, so any further exchanges were impossible.

Her neighbour at dinner was another colleague of Felix's, a young photographer called Mark. He was unostentatiously good-looking, and amusing, and Kate soon realised she was being chatted up, and in an odd way it was balm to her spirit. Maria's
coq au vin
was wonderful and so was the lemon syllabub which followed it, and Kate found she was beginning to relax.

She was almost sorry when the party broke up around midnight. Mark had never left her side, so there was no chance of another private talk with Lorna, which, on balance, was just as well.

There wasn't a lot she could have said without either betraying herself, or giving away the fact that Felix and Maria were among those who had been taken in by the whole affair, she thought.

She parted from Mark pleasantly, without making any definite response to his suggestions that they should see one another again. He was clearly disappointed, but promised that he would telephone her. Well, he might, or he might not, she decided as she went up to her flat, and when he did was time enough to worry about whether to accept his invitation or not.

The next day she went to see Alison. She felt the sun warm on her back as she walked across the big square of grass, and wished she knew exactly what to say. She rang the bell and waited, edgily.

The front door opened and Alison stared at her, her eyes widening, her face breaking into a smile.

'Kate—you're back. How smashing! Come in. Would you like some coffee?'

Kate could hardly believe her eyes and ears. Alison looked a different girl. The sulky air which had hung around her at their previous encounter had vanished. Her hair had been re-styled, and she looked glowingly alive and happy.

'Was Spain wonderful?' she went on, leading the way into the house. 'Jon and I were wondering about a few days in Majorca perhaps in September, if all goes well.'

Kate followed her into the kitchen and watched while Alison flitted about, getting out beakers and plugging in the percolater, and chatting inconsequentially about this and that.

'You haven't done anything more about finding a job?' she asked at last, as Alison poured the coffee.

There wasn't even a momentary embarrassment in Alison's face. 'No, I've given up the whole idea now— for a very good reason.' That smile lit up her features again. 'Oh, Kate, you're the first one to know—apart from Jon, of course. I'm going to have a baby! I've just had the test confirmed, and it's definite. I'm so happy I could die!'

Kate took the beaker she was handed almost mechanically. She said, 'Ally, that's wonderful! I thought…'

'You're remembering how I was a few weeks ago,' Alison diagnosed correctly. 'I'm sorry if I gave you a hard time. I was certainly giving myself a worse one. You see, Jon and I had been trying for this baby— and—well, it hadn't happened, and I was beginning to panic, think there might be something wrong. And you know how it is. Every magazine article—every television programme seemed to be about the problems of infertility. I began to think I was getting a complex. And then Jon started saying he thought it was too soon to have a family, and that he wanted me to himself. I was just totally confused, and miserable. But when I realised there might be a baby on the way, he confessed that he'd been worried, and he'd just been trying to make me feel better. Wasn't it ridiculous?' She laughed, her face tender.

She chattered on, and Kate drank her coffee, knowing that she could not spoil that precious newcontentment with recriminations about Matt Lincoln. Alison had probably put the whole incident out of her mind, she realised, and it would be unkind and unfair to resurrect it, and remind her of behaviour which she would be ashamed of now.

'Do the rest of the family know you're back?' Alison asked at last. 'We're going over to see them tonight for a meal—and to tell them the good news. Why don't you come as well?'

'I have something planned for this evening,' Kate said mendaciously. 'But you could tell Mother that I'll be over towards the end of the week.'

Tonight was Alison's time, she thought. Tonight, she would be the centre of attention, basking in everyone's happiness and approval, and Kate couldn't cope with it, although she was thankful her sister-in-law seemed to have regained her equilibrium.

She drank a second cup of coffee, and said she had to be on her way, firmly refusing all Alison's pressing offers of lunch, and an afternoon visit to the local shops to look at cots and prams. As she turned to wave goodbye to her sister-in-law, she reflected wryly that the next nine months were probably going to be the longest on record, then chided herself for being malicious. She shouldn't blame Alison for what had happened between herself and Matt. It was her own fault for jumping with both feet into a situation she didn't understand. And now she had to live with the consequences.

The days passed slowly. Kate got back to work with utter determination. Clive was delighted that she was back, and bombarded her with invitations, none of which she accepted. Eventually, she supposed, he would take the hint, and realise that their relationship would never be more than a business one. Mark was equally persistent, in spite of her excuses, and Maria was clearly disappointed that Kate didn't take him up on any of his offers of dinner, or the theatre.

'I thought you were getting on well,' she mourned.

'He's very nice,' Kate offered placatingly. 'But I'm just not ready to be involved—with anyone,' she added, feeling a faint tinge of colour steal into her face.