Melting Fire. Anne Mather

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СКАЧАТЬ foolish she had been! Richard didn’t have it in him to love anyone, and she was crazy if she imagined this was all some badly-tasting joke that would go away if she forgot about it. But what could she do?

      She was not a prisoner at Copley, and she doubted even Richard would stop her if she determined to walk out, but where could she go? If she denounced Richard and his possessions, she was penniless. Her father hadn’t even left her mother enough to live on, that was one of the reasons why she had married Matthew Jenner so soon after her husband’s death, and her bank balance, such as it was, had all been contributed by Richard. It was useless saying she had earned her keep. She hadn’t. Her life had been incredibly easy, and the only reason she knew how to boil an egg and make a bed was because she had enjoyed helping Bella on occasion. But that was an amusement, nothing more. She had done nothing on a regular basis, and while Richard was right when he said that St Helena’s had taught her how to entertain, it had not encompassed the more menial arts of actually preparing a meal herself.

      No, whichever way she looked at it, Richard had a point, a heartless point it was true, but a point nevertheless. She did owe him something, but how much was his pound of flesh?

      Leaving her bed, she padded restlessly to the windows staring out moodily on to the smooth grass of the soft court. She had hoped to challenge Richard to a game of tennis this afternoon, and afterwards they could have swum again, and had afternoon tea beside the pool. It was hardly possible to believe that it was only a matter of four or five hours since his arrival. It was even difficult to recall her excitement at seeing him again, and the easy camaraderie they had shared. All she could remember were those flint-like green eyes, gazing into hers and chilling her with their coldness. He had seemed like a stranger, a terrifying stranger, and she had run from him like the frightened child she was.

      A knock at her door made her stiffen automatically, and her hand went to the sill for added support as she called: ‘Who is it?’

      ‘Me!’

      Bella’s voice was suddenly amazingly reassuring, and with a little gulp, she shouted: ‘Come in.’

      Bella came into the room cautiously, closing the door behind her, her eyes going at once to Olivia’s puffy eyes. Her own gentle features softened in compassion, and it was all Olivia could do to prevent herself from darting into Bella’s arms, as she had done so many times in the past when things had got too much for her. But now she steeled herself to remain where she was, guessing that Bella had to have a hand in this, and realising she had to be self-sufficient from now on.

      ‘Oh, my dear …’ Bella was clearly distressed, as she advanced across the room, but something about Olivia’s stiffly held figure warned her not to try to comfort her. ‘Won’t you come downstairs and have some tea?’

      ‘I’m not hungry,’ replied Olivia, moving away from the windows, putting the width of the bed between them. ‘Where’s Richard?’

      Bella sighed, halting and folding her hands in front of her. ‘He’s downstairs,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘He and Alex are working in the summerhouse.’ She paused. ‘Won’t you come and have a cup of tea, at least?’

      ‘I don’t want anything.’ Olivia was abrupt. ‘Why have you come up here? Did he send you?’

      ‘Richard?’ Bella shook her head. ‘Of course not.’ She made a helpless gesture. ‘Olivia, I wish you wouldn’t take this all so seriously——’

      ‘Seriously!’ Olivia stared at her. ‘Seriously? How else am I supposed to take it?’

      ‘You know Richard,’ exclaimed Bella persuasively. ‘You know how angry he gets sometimes. When he’s angry he often says things he doesn’t mean.’

      ‘Oh, yes?’ Olivia was unconvinced, an uncontrollable bubble of hysteria swelling inside her. ‘What didn’t he mean then? That he didn’t really spend his money on me to turn me into something he wanted? Or that I don’t really owe him anything?’

      ‘Olivia, listen …’

      ‘No, you listen: I loved Richard, I really loved him. And I thought he loved me——’

      ‘He does!’

      ‘No!’ Olivia shook her head. ‘He doesn’t love anybody but himself. And that—that grotesque corporation of his! That’s all he really cares about. Not love, or compassion, or loyalty—or people!’

      ‘You’re wrong.’ Bella tried to reason with her, but when she made a move to come round the bed towards her, Olivia stepped back towards the bathroom. ‘My dear, stop being so emotional. You know it need never have come to this. You love Copley, you know you do, and what more natural but that you should become Richard’s—hostess? You like meeting people, you like entertaining. You’ve said yourself that you enjoy composing menus——’

      ‘But not only that!’ cried Olivia shrilly. ‘Not only sitting around here, waiting for Richard to appear with some foreign guest or other, choosing menus, arranging flowers, making myself attractive for some fat old European, whose wife flaps her skinny breasts at Richard, while I keep her husband entertained!’

      ‘Olivia!’

      ‘Well, it’s true.’ Olivia was unrepentant. ‘Do you think I don’t know what goes on? Do you think I don’t know why Kuriakis is always inviting him aboard his yacht? It’s not Aristotle who wants to see him, it’s Madame Kuriakis! I saw the way she was looking at him the last time they were here. I felt sick, physically sick, and if that’s what Richard expects me to——’

      ‘Olivia, be quiet!’ Bella was impatient now. ‘I will not listen to any more of this! It seems to me that all you’ve developed in France is your imagination, and I’m ashamed to hear a child I’ve looked after and cared for using such language!’ She turned towards the door, and when her hand closed on the handle, she looked back at her. ‘Perhaps you’d better stay in your room,’ she declared coldly. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy feeling sorry for yourself much more here, without any distractions.’

      Contrarily, as soon as the door had closed behind her, Olivia wished she had detained her. Of all the people she knew, Bella was the one she could always turn to, the person who was always there when she needed her. Even yesterday, returning from Paris to find Richard away, she had known the old nursemaid would not have deserted her, and it was painful to think that she was creating the rift between them. But Bella was intensely loyal, not only to her, but to Richard, who had after all claimed her affections first. In her eyes he could do no wrong, and in this instance she was no ally. Nevertheless, she was the nearest thing to a mother Olivia had known during the last fifteen years, and as such she deserved her respect. If only she would try and understand how Olivia was feeling, instead of looking blithely ahead, uncaring of the pitfalls along the way.

      Catching sight of herself in the mirror of her vanity unit, Olivia was appalled at her reflection. Her arms, and the length of leg visible beneath the hem of her denim skirt, blazed with unseemly colour, while her face, unnaturally pale and hollow-cheeked, showed puffy red patches around her eyes and nose. Her hair, rumpled from her sojourn on the bed, stuck out in tufts all over her head, dampened by her sweating scalp, and her hunched shoulders and air of despondency added to her general attitude of dejection. If Jules could see me now, she thought in horror, but at the recollection of the Frenchman misery swamped her anew. She had planned to see Jules in London. Working in the capital, they would have had plenty of occasions to be together. He had told her he hoped to do some of his recording work in England, and she had looked forward excitedly СКАЧАТЬ