Название: Tangled Tapestry
Автор: Anne Mather
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern
isbn: 9781472097668
isbn:
At once his expression changed. His amiable approach gave way to a disbelieving glare, and something like recognition flickered in his small eyes. He swept the cigar out of his mouth and narrowed his lids, then ran a hand over his forehead, up to the receding line of his hair. Then he said:
‘Your name. What’s your name?’
Debra was taken aback, and glanced desperately at Lucy Powell. But Lucy merely looked surprised too, and Debra answered: ‘Debra Warren, Mr. Morley.’
He studied her appraisingly, replacing the cigar in his mouth and gnawing at it abstractedly. The children were staring too, now, all wondering what was going to happen, and hoping for some excitement. Debra felt terrible. In the restaurant she had felt as though she was being stared at, but this—this was much worse. Why on earth did Emmet Morley stare at her like that, and why didn’t he hurry up and say something and get it over with? The whole studio seemed conscious of the small scene being enacted just inside the wide doors, and a strange hush had descended.
Lucy Powell eventually broke the silence by saying: ‘This is the schoolteacher from Filbert, Mr. Morley. The English girl who is over here on the exchange scheme.’
Morley drew heavily on his cigar, gathered his thoughts, and lifting his shoulders in a helpless gesture, said: ‘Yeah, the English teacher from the High School.’ He glanced round thoughtfully. ‘Go on looking around, kids! Lucy, do me a small favour, will you? Take charge of these kids for five minutes. Give me a moment to speak to Miss … er … Warren, in private.’
Lucy looked taken aback, and not particularly pleased. ‘Mr. Morley, I have other visitors to show round after this party has left——’ But she was left talking to herself, for ignoring her protests, Emmet Morley had determinedly taken Debra’s arm, and was propelling her across the studio floor, past the interested eyes of the camera men, to a small office at the back of the studio. Debra herself tried to protest, but Morley merely said:
‘Relax, kid, relax! No one’s going to frighten you. I only want to have a small talk with you. Right?’
‘I suppose so.’ Debra could hardly refuse without causing an embarrassing scene. Besides, what could happen to her? The office was glass-panelled, and all eyes would be on them, anyway.
The office held a couple of easy armchairs, a low desk and several telephones. Emmet Morley seated himself behind the desk and waved to one of the armchairs. ‘Sit down, for heaven’s sake. I’m not going to eat you! You look positively petrified!’
‘Well, quite frankly, I am rather nervous,’ she said, subsiding on to an armchair, and then seeing that by doing so she was out of sight of the rest of the studio because the glass panelling only started some three feet from the floor, standing up again.
‘You’ve no reason to be so,’ remarked Morley impatiently. ‘Good God! Sit down. What on earth experience has made you act like this? Did some guy attack you, or something?’
Debra stiffened her shoulders. ‘Of course not. It’s merely that all this is beyond me, and I wish it were over and done with. I can’t think what we have to say to one another. Everybody is staring at me as though I were a freak or something! Do I look like a freak?’
Morley’s hard features relaxed into a smile. ‘Anything but! You’re a particularly attractive girl. Surely you know that without me telling you? Sure you do. Even a girl like you couldn’t be so dumb!’
‘And is that all this is about?’ exclaimed Debra disbelievingly.
Morley hesitated. ‘More or less,’ he muttered evasively. ‘Now, will you sit down?’
Debra did so unwillingly, and accepted a cigarette from the box he offered to her. After it was lit, Emmet Morley studied her silently for a while before saying:
‘What part of England do you come from, Miss Warren?’
Debra shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose you’d have heard of it. It’s a place called Valleydown, in Sussex. It’s actually about thirty miles from London.’
‘I see. And your parents? Do you live with them?’
‘No. My parents are dead.’
Emmet Morley leaned forward interestedly. ‘Is that so? How did they die?’
Debra frowned. ‘I don’t see what that has to do with anything.’
‘Just answer the question, Miss Warren,’ muttered Morley impatiently.
Debra compressed her lips in annoyance. What right had this man to speak to her so peremptorily? But she still answered him, albeit a little sulkily. ‘They were killed. In a train crash. When I was just a baby.’
‘So? Go on, who brought you up?’
‘You want my life history, Mr. Morley?’
‘More or less, Miss Warren. Go on … please.’
Debra sighed. ‘I was brought up by my aunt, Aunt Julia, that is.’
‘I see.’ He lay back in his chair. ‘Tell me, kid, what do you know about Elizabeth Steel?’
‘Elizabeth Steel?’ Debra shook her head. ‘Why, hardly anything. I mean, I know she was very famous, and that she was killed in a plane crash, but that’s about all. Why?’
Morley did not answer her. Instead he said: ‘She was famous, very famous, as you say. And very popular, too, if a little conceited sometimes. Her death was a tragedy for us all. She was only forty-three, and no one could have guessed even that. She was at the peak of her career.’ He sighed heavily. ‘That happened a little over ten years ago, when you’d have been—how old?’
Debra thought for a moment. ‘Twelve, I suppose.’
‘Hmn! Interesting, very interesting.’ Morley’s eyes were uncomfortably intent.
Debra lifted her shoulders. ‘Mr. Morley, what is all this about? I mean, you invite me in here, you want to know my life history and now you start asking me about some film star who’s been dead over ten years! I mean, it just doesn’t add up. I’m sorry this Steel woman is dead, of course. But I don’t see what I have to do with any of it.’
Emmet Morley stubbed out his cigar. ‘Okay, okay, Miss Warren. Don’t blow your top. We’ll leave it—for now at any rate. Just out of interest, do you remember your parents?’
Debra frowned. ‘Not at all. Why?’ She sounded distrait.
Morley shrugged. ‘Cool it, Miss Warren,’ he advised her sardonically. ‘I have my reasons, believe me, for this interrogation. But I don’t think it would be fair at this time to voice them. I’m sorry, kid, but there it is.’
Debra stood up and walked to the door. ‘Can I go now?’
‘I guess,’ he replied lacontcally, СКАЧАТЬ