Authors: Sara Craven
'Are you leaving already?' Jeremy asked, his voice sharp with curiosity.
'Why, yes.' Before Catriona could move, or protest, Jason bent and kissed
her slowly and deliberately on the mouth. 'It's time, I think, that all good
little girls were in bed,' he went on, smiling down into her outraged eyes.
Jeremy flushed, and he looked at Catriona with unmistakable speculation.
'So that's how it is. Fine. Be happy,' he said, with a fair attempt at
nonchalance.
'Besides,' there was no disguising the amusement in Jason's voice, 'Sally
would never forgive me if I kept Catriona out too late.'
Jeremy looked at him quickly. 'Sally Fenton? Is Trina staying with her?
I—see.'
'I doubt it,' Jason said lightly, and took Catriona's hand. 'Come on, love,
time to go. Tell your mother I'll phone her,' he added to the nonplussed
Jeremy as he led Catriona away.
In the car she turned on him furiously. 'How dared you?'
'How dared I do what?' He was infuriatingly unruffled as the car moved
down the drive and nosed out on to the road.
'Paw me in that insulting way!' she raged, and was further incensed by his
laughter.
'You flatter yourself, Miss Muir.' He flashed her a swift glance. 'Surely that
can't have been the most strenuous embrace you've experienced. I must
have a word with Jeremy.'
'Oh, shut up,' she said bitterly. 'At least with Jeremy I never
felt—besmirched.'
Something came and went in his face, but his voice was still amused. 'I'm
sure you would have done—in time.'
She sought for a retort that would silence him once and for all, but none was
forthcoming, so she retired behind a hostile tight-lipped barrier of silence.
Jason Lord seemed totally unconcerned. He hummed snatches of tunes,
commented on the road conditions and eventually with a courteous, 'I hope
you don't mind,' switched on the radio. It was a foreign station. Catriona
could not recognise the announcer's accent, but the music they were playing
had an oddly soothing quality. The street lights and the white lines on the
road became fused in a soft blurring of consciousness. Her head slipped
sideways on to her companion's shoulder, and her breathing became soft
and even.
She was floating on a cloud, weightless and carefree. Jeremy was beside
her, his kisses light as Highland mist on her face. How warm she was, how
safe. Then a shadow came between them, and someone was shaking the
cloud, which was break-' ing up and dissolving. It was Jason Lord, his face
satyr-like. 'Come down off Cloud Seven, Miss Muir,' he was saying. 'Come
down. Come down.' And his hands were hard on her shoulders, shaking her
so that she tried to cry out, only the cloud was muffling her.
Gasping for breath, she struggled out from under the Continental quilt to
find Jason Lord standing over her with a cup and saucer.
'You are a violent little thing in the mornings,' he commented sarcastically.
'Do you want this coffee in bed or over it?'
Catriona stared at him for one panic-stricken moment, then huddled the
quilt over her bare shoulders.
'It's all right,' he said with studied patience. 'It's only your dress that's
missing. I assumed you wouldn't want to ruin it by sleeping in it, so I put it
on a hanger in the wardrobe.'
'You did—what?'
'Oh, grow up,' he snapped. 'You surely don't think there's anything indecent
in that boned effort and long waist slip you're wearing. There were women
at the party last night showing twice as much.'
Catriona was crimson from head to foot. 'Do you mind telling me what I'm
doing here?' she inquired icily.
'With pleasure.' He sat down on the edge of the bed, to her immediate alarm.
'You're here as a very temporary lodger, and as soon as I can get Sally
Fenton on the telephone and talk her into taking you on, you're leaving.'
Catriona quivered. 'I don't know that I care to be passed on like an unwanted
package,' she began.
'And I don't know that you have any choice,' he interrupted. 'I happen to
know Sally is looking for another girl to share with, and it could be a way
out of the woods for us both. I'm not happy at the idea of you drifting out
into the city jungle with no one to keep an eye on you.'
'I'm not a child,' Catriona said defiantly.
'Oh, no. Your actions have been characterised by your maturity since you
got off the train,' he retorted.
'But I don't know this Sally,' she protested.
'You know her as well as most girls who share flats these days. Often they
just answer each other's ads. In your case, it's me doing the arranging
instead of a newspaper. And I'm sure you'll like Sally.'
'Well, that makes everything all right, doesn't it?' she said, trying to emulate
his sarcasm.
'Only you can do that,' he told her. 'You say you have nowhere to return to
in Scotland. You may as well iive up to the story you told nephew Jeremy
and try enjoying yourself in London for a change. Sally'll help you find a
job of some kind. She's an actress, so she's used to finding herself temporary
work between engagements.'
'I see.' Catriona stared unseeingly at the pattern on the quilt. 'All right, I'll
give it a try. And—thank you,' she added with difficulty.
'Well, let's not strain common civility any further," he said, but he was
smiling. 'Come on, drink this while it's still hot.'
Catriona accepted the cup meekly and began to sip. She allowed Jason
Lord to reach the door before halting him with a wide-eyed, 'Oh, Mr Lord.
Forgive me for asking, but is Sally—one of your women?'
She expected an angry outburst, but instead he leaned against the door,
smiling lazily.
'No, as a matter of fact, though I'm flattered by your in- * terest,' he said.
'Can it be because you imagine you've joined those select ranks yourself?'
In spite of the sheltering quilt and her quite adequate covering beneath it,
Catriona felt naked under his insolent gaze.
'If so, let me disabuse your little head of any such notion.' His voice
lengthened to a drawl. 'As I told you last night, I don't take sweets from
babies, especially when they're asleep. Among other things I require of
"my women", as you so elegantly put it, is that they at least remain awake
and give me their undivided attention. You fail on both counts.'
And the door closed behind him, as the pillow, hurled with all the force
Catriona could muster, thudded against it.
Almost in spite of herself, Catriona found that she liked Sally Fenton on
sight. Sally was small and red-headed with delicate mobile features and an
impish smile. Her eyes were dancing as she flung open the front door of the
flat.
'Jason, angel!' She flung herself rapturously at him. 'You've saved my life.
Ever since that idiot Jill went back to Birmingham, I've been desperate.'
' 'Careful, Sal.' Jason disengaged himself and sent a glinting look at
Catriona. 'You'll be giving Miss Muir the wrong idea.'
'Miss Muir? Oh, surely not. It's Catriona, isn't it, just like in Robert Louis
Stevenson,' Sally said gaily, taking her hands. 'Please come in and say you
like it and that you'll stay for at least a little while. I need the extra rent—not
to mention the company.'
'Don't tell her that,' Jason admonished, sitting on the edge of the table and
lighting a cigarette. 'She's a Scot and intensely money-conscious.'
'That's not true,' Catriona began indignantly, then subsided as Sally
exclaimed, 'Oh, just ignore him. He says the most appalling things about
everyone. But we have to forgive him because he's so important—aren't
you, darling?' And she wrinkled her nose at him.
'Not important to you, at any rate, Sally,' he said drily. 'I'll fetch Miss Muir's
things from the car.'
'And we'll make up the other bed,' Sally said. 'The bedroom's only tiny, I'm
afraid. I hope you haven't got too many clothes.'
Catriona swallowed. 'I've hardly got any,' she admitted.
'Oh.' Sally swung round and regarded her for a moment. 'Well, that's super.
We. can go shopping. Don't look so frightened—you don't have to spend the
earth to create a good effect. And it will be no good applying to the agency
I go to in jeans,' she added practically. 'A trouser suit, perhaps, but those
have rather seen better days, haven't they?'
It was impossible to take offence, Catriona thought amusedly, as she helped
Sally unload sheets and covers from an old-fashioned blanket box that
doubled as a window seat in the little bedroom. In spite of its size, it was gay
with cheerful wallpaper and sparkling white paint and there were pretty
turquoise curtains at the window.
'Here's Jason with your stuff,' said Sally, tucking in a corner of the
bedspread. 'Give him a hand while I empty a couple of drawers for you.'
Catriona went back reluctantly into the living room in time to see Jason
depositing her guitar case on the floor beside the table. Her rucksack was
there already, and so were a pile of silver dress boxes marked with the name
of the store they had visited the day before.
'I think there's some mistake,' Catriona said quickly.
'What have I forgotten?' He straightened, eyeing her.
Catriona pointed at the boxes. 'They don't belong to me.'
'Don't be a fool,' he said curtly. 'Of course they're yours. What earthly use
could they be to me? And don't say I could give them to one of "my
women" or I swear I'll turn you across my knee and give you the hiding
you've been asking for since I met you.'
'I wasn't going to say that,' she said quietly. 'But I can't accept these
clothes. You must see that. I—I can't afford to pay for them just now
either, as you know. I only took them to begin with because I thought that.
. .' her voice trailed away miserably.
'You thought Jeremy would pay for them as your husband,' he finished for
her. 'But as I told you, it's in the family. Of course--' his voice took on that
drawling note she had come to dread—'if you insist on repaying me in
some other way, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement.'
'Please don't,' she said with difficulty. 'I want to thank you for everything,
and you don't make it easy.'
'I don't make it easy for myself either,' he answered abruptly. He came over
and stood looking down at her. 'Thank me, then,' he said, smiling faintly.
She lowered her eyes hurriedly to the faded pattern on the carpet. 'I'm
much obliged to you,' she said eventually.'
Jason gave a swift, impatient sigh. 'Don't be,' he said brusquely. 'I'm sure
Cinderella would never have said that to Bluebeard. Goodbye, Catriona.
Keep in touch.' And he was gone.
'Now you see him, now you don't,' said Sally cheerfully from the doorway.
'Old Moira will certainly have to go some, if she intends pinning him down
for life.'
'Moira?'
'Of course you don't know. Stupid of me,' Sally sat down on a
battered-looking armchair and sighed. 'Moira Dane, I mean. She's playing
the lead in the TV play I'm in, and at the moment she's hell-bent on letting
us all know it. And now she's got her beady eye on Jason. She's been
sticking to him like glue ever since casting.'
'Does he produce plays as well as his other work?' Catriona asked.
'No-o.' Sally looked at her oddly. 'Didn't he explain? Well, perhaps not.
Anyway, he's in and out of our rehearsals quite a bit for one reason and
another, and I'm afraid one of the reasons could be Moira.'
'I suppose she's very attractive,' Catriona said.
'Absolutely gorgeous. She's a redhead like me, but that's about all we have
in common. We're supposed to be sisters in the play, so our colouring had to
be similar, I suppose,' Sally said. 'It's a marvellous chance for me as long as
I don't let Moira goad me into walking out or anything daft.'
'Is she that bad?' Catriona was sympathetic.
'She gets us all down at times—except Jason. He doesn't let anyone,
especially a woman, get to him to that extent,' Sally said. 'But she can be
really nasty. I suppose she's the sort who would stand on your foot if she
thought you had a corn.' She got up briskly. 'Now, I have a rehearsal in
about an hour. I'd better show you our splendid kitchen.' She whisked back
a gingham curtain in one corner to reveal a miniature sink and cooker
crammed into an alcove. 'Food in left-hand cupboard, under fridge. Soap,
cleaning stuff and everything else in the other one. Any questions?'
'Is there any room for them?' Catriona laughed.
'Not really,' Sally twinkled back at her. 'I am glad you're here. Are you
going to have a few days' sightseeing and general enjoyment before you
look for a job? I should.'
Catriona looked at her doubtfully. 'If that's all right.'