Читать книгу White Rose Of Winter - Anne Mather, Anne Mather - Страница 8

THE next morning Julie was awakened by Emma bouncing on the end of her bed, and she opened her eyes reluctantly, aware of an indefinable feeling of ominous apprehension. The events of the previous day came flooding back to her, and for a moment she longed to bury her head under the covers and stay where she was.

Then Emma’s bright little face swam into focus and she knew she could not spoil her pleasure in the day.

Emma was dressed already. Someone had supervised what she should put on, for the trews and sweater she was wearing had not been unpacked the night before, and her long straight hair had been combed into order.

Julie struggled into a sitting position. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, reaching for her watch which she had laid on the bedside table when she went to bed. ‘Heavens! It’s after ten. Why didn’t you wake me earlier?’

‘Grandma said you were tired, and Uncle Robert said you would feel better after a long sleep.’

Julie smoothed her hair behind her ears. ‘You mean – they’re up?’

‘Well, Grandma’s not dressed yet. I had breakfast with her, in her room, and Uncle Robert came in later and asked what I usually wore.’

‘I see.’ Julie reached for her dressing-gown. ‘And did you wash and clean your teeth?’

‘Yes. Uncle Robert showed me where everything was. And that man – Halbird—’

‘Mr. Halbird, darling,’ inserted Julie automatically, sliding out of bed.

Emma shrugged indifferently. ‘Well, whoever he is – he unpacked my things and we put them all away in my own drawers.’ She smiled. ‘He said I was very grown up for my age.’

Julie sighed. ‘Who did?’

‘Halbird – Mr. Halbird, I mean.’

Julie shook her head. ‘Well, I wish you’d woken me. Where is everyone now?’

‘Grandma’s getting dressed and Uncle Robert’s gone to get the car out. We’re going out.’

Julie, on her way to the bathroom, swung round. ‘Who is?’

‘Uncle Robert and me,’ said Emma ungrammatically. She smiled complacently. ‘We’re going to see the new house.’

Julie stared at her for a long moment. ‘You’re sure Uncle Robert said he’s taking you.’

‘Of course.’ Emma jumped off the bed indignantly. ‘He said he’d show me Buckingham Palace, too.’

Julie pushed open the bathroom door, and going inside turned on the shower. Then she secured her hair beneath a plastic cap and took off her dressing-gown and nightdress. As she stepped under the shower, she felt a disturbing sense of envy at Emma’s completely natural adaptation to these new circumstances. What it was to be a child, to accept everything on its face value without searching beneath the surface for ulterior motives.

Later, she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towelling bathrobe to shift Emma out while she dressed.

‘When are you leaving?’ she asked, trying to keep the possessiveness out of her voice.

Emma shrugged. ‘Soon, I suppose. When you’re ready, I guess.’

‘Me?’ Julie swung round on her. ‘What have I to do with it?’

‘Well, you’re coming, too, aren’t you?’ Emma looked puzzled.

Julie sighed. ‘Did Uncle Robert say that, too.’

Emma considered for a moment. ‘Well, he told me to come and wake you and ask you if you’d like some coffee.’

‘Did he indeed?’ Julie gave her daughter a resigned stare. ‘And did you?’

‘Did I what?’

‘Ask me if I wanted coffee?’

Emma hung her head. ‘I forgot.’

‘Well, I do, so scoot. And don’t come back. I’ll come when I’m dressed.’

Emma’s mouth tilted at the comers. ‘You’re not cross, are you?’

‘Of course not. Run along. I’ve got to get dressed.’

‘All right.’ Emma skipped to the door. Then she stopped hesitantly. ‘You do like it here, don’t you, Mummy? I mean – you like Uncle Robert and Grandma and – and everyone?’

‘How could I not?’ exclaimed Julie impatiently. ‘Go on, stop worrying, everything’s fine.’

It wasn’t until Julie was pulling on close-fitting corded pants in a rather attractive shade of purple that she paused to wonder why Emma should have asked her such a strange question. Then she shrugged and went on dressing. No doubt the child was sensitive to atmosphere, and there had been plenty of that in Robert’s car yesterday.

She put on a fine wool cream sweater with the pants, leaving her throat to rise smoothly from the open neckline. Her hair hung silkily about her shoulders, and the only make-up she used was a faint eye-shadow and a colourless lustre for her lips.

When she was satisfied with her appearance, she left her room and walked determinedly along the hall to the lounge. The hall, now she had time to notice it, was wide and attractive, papered in gold damask with several examples of French Impressionist painting lining the walls. The carpet was blue and gold, and there was a gilt-edged occasional table and two chairs to match beside it.

The double doors which led into the lounge were at the end of the hall near the single panelled door which opened into the lobby they had entered the previous afternoon.

Summoning all her courage, she pressed open the lounge doors and entered the room, closing them behind her. Unlike the night before, it was not deserted now. Emma and her grandmother were seated on a low couch near the windows, looking at a picture book from which Lucy was reading a story, while Halbird was busily dusting the bookshelves which flanked the hi-fi equipment at the far end of the room. He looked up as she came in, and his smile made up for Lucy’s apparent ignorance of her presence.

‘Good morning, Mrs. Pemberton,’ he said, stopping what he was doing. ‘If you’ll come through to the dining-room, I’ve prepared a little something for you.’

‘Oh – oh, you shouldn’t have bothered.’ Julie glanced doubtfully at her mother-in-law and Emma, and this time they both looked up.

‘Grandma’s reading me a story,’ said Emma innocently.

‘Good morning, Julie.’ Lucy’s greeting was less than cordial. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Thank you, yes.’ Julie glanced at Halbird, who was standing waiting for her. ‘Excuse me, I’ll just go and have some coffee.’

Lucy returned her attention to the book for a moment and then looked up again. ‘I thought we might go shopping this afternoon,’ she said with reluctance. ‘This child is hopelessly ill equipped for a winter in England.’

Julie stiffened. ‘Most of Emma’s clothes are in the trunks coming by sea—’

‘I know that. The trunks have already arrived.’

‘Where are they, then?’ Julie looked bewildered.

‘They’re at the house, of course,’ replied Lucy. ‘There was no point in bringing them here, was there? You won’t be staying here that long.’

Julie felt exasperated. ‘But I can’t possibly manage more than a couple of days with what I’ve brought with me.’

Lucy shrugged indifferently. ‘You can always buy a few things for yourself.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I doubt very much whether the clothes you wore in Malaya will be particularly useful here. Apart from the change of climate, you’ll be expected to dress fashionably. And as Michael’s widow …’ She dabbed her eyes suddenly, and Julie turned away.

She couldn’t bear to say anything more. She didn’t trust herself to do so. Not without causing another row. Emma was looking from one to the other of them with evident concern, and besides, this was neither the time nor the place to discuss Michael.

Instead, she followed Halbird through the door he indicated and found herself in a large, well lit dining-room. The dining-table was long and highly polished, and a single place had been laid at one end for her. There was coffee, and warm rolls, toast and marmalade, and scrambled eggs keeping warm over a burner. Julie felt a ridiculous prick of tears at Halbird’s thoughtfulness.

Turning to him, she exclaimed helplessly: ‘This wasn’t necessary, you know.’

The man smiled. ‘You had no dinner last evening,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m sure you must be hungry. Everything looks so much better if the stomach’s not crying out for sustenance.’

Julie glanced at him sharply, but his expression was benign. All the same, she sensed Halbird’s sympathy, and was unreasonably glad of it. It was reassuring to know that one person at least did not resent her being here.

And, in fact, she made a good breakfast. Despite the emotional state of her nerves she was hungry, she found, and after a plate of scrambled eggs, some toast and marmalade, and several cups of strong black coffee she did indeed feel more ready to face the world in general and the Pemberton’s in particular.

She was chatting to Halbird about the changes she had seen the day before in London when Robert came in. This morning he was wearing dark green suede pants and a matching shirt in a slightly lighter shade together with a dark brown leather waistcoat that hung loosely from his shoulders. He looked big and powerful and disturbing, and Julie had to steel herself not to stare at him.

‘Well?’ he said abruptly, interrupting their conversation. ‘Are you ready?’

Julie looked up then. ‘Ready?’ She raised her dark eyebrows. ‘Ready for what?’

Robert glanced meaningfully at Halbird, and the manservant nodded politely and left the room, returning to the lounge to finish his dusting, Julie supposed.

‘Didn’t Emma advise you of the arrangements?’ Robert was distant.

Julie sighed and rose to her feet, smoothing down the cream sweater over her slim hips. ‘Not really. She said something about you and her going to see the new house.’

‘Precisely.’ Robert surveyed her intently. ‘Naturally you’ll want to see your new home, too.’

‘Oh, thank you. That was thoughtful.’ The sarcasm was audible in Julie’s voice.

Robert uttered an expletive. ‘For God’s sake, Julie, we can’t go on like this. Look – can’t we at least behave civilly in front of Emma? I’m getting a bit sick of this constant bickering.’

‘So am I!’ Julie flared.

‘Well, then.’

Julie shook her head. ‘It’s easy for you, isn’t it? You’re having everything your own way, aren’t you?’

Robert let his breath out on a heavy sigh. ‘Oh, stop it, Julie!’ He ran a hand over his hair impatiently. ‘What do you want me to say? I’m doing my best to be tolerant—’

‘Tolerant!’ Julie was indignant. ‘What have you to be tolerant of?’

‘You!’ he snapped shortly. ‘Do you think given the choice, I would have accepted this situation?’

Julie held up her head. ‘It’s what your mother wanted.’

‘But not what I wanted!’ Robert’s voice was harsh. ‘Believe me, Julie, I prayed I’d never have to see you again!’

Julie felt the hot colour bum up her throat and into her face. ‘I – I bet you did,’ she faltered unconvincingly.

‘Oh, Julie!’ There was an agonized kind of exasperation in his voice now. ‘This is getting us nowhere. Look, what’s past is past. We’ve both got to accept that, haven’t we? And Michael chose that you and Emma should be put into my care – let’s at least try and remember that.’

Julie bent her head. ‘How could I forget it?’ she whispered tremulously.

Robert made a helpless gesture, and then moving closer put his hand on her shoulder as if to show that he understood the grief she was feeling. But Julie flinched away from his touch as though his cool flesh had burned her, and his jaw tightened angrily before he flung himself away from her and through the door into the lounge.

Julie stood where he had left her, trembling violently. His solicitude had been so unexpected, and she would not have believed it could have such a profound effect on her. She had expected to feel a kind of painful nostalgia at seeing Robert again, but nothing she had imagined had prepared her for this instant emotionalism whenever he came near her, and when he had touched her, her flesh had melted beneath his fingers exactly as it had used to do.

She pressed the palms of her hands to her burning cheeks. This was crazy. She wasn’t an impressionable teenager any longer. She was a woman, a woman of twenty-six, who had been married for almost six years. How could she react so intensely to such an indifferent gesture? Where was the control she had always prided herself on possessing? Whatever must he have thought of her?

Suddenly the door to the lounge opened and Emma appeared, her expression changing to one of concern as she took in Julie’s obvious distress. ‘What’s the matter, Mummy? Are you crying about Daddy again?’

Emma’s words sobered her. ‘I’m not crying, darling. I – I got something in my eye, that’s all.’

Emma frowned for a moment, and then seemed to accept the explanation. ‘We’re waiting for you,’ she said. ‘Are you coming?’

Julie realized that Emma was now wearing the red anorak she had brought with her from Rhatoon, and was obviously ready to go out. Nodding, she followed Emma back into the lounge to find Robert in conversation with his mother. He had put on a sheepskin jacket which added to his height and bulk, and he glanced round impatiently when he saw Julie was still not ready.

‘I really don’t see why Julie needs to go,’ Lucy Pemberton was saying. ‘I understood you were only going to see the contractors, Robert.’

‘I am. But as Julie is to live there I don’t see why she shouldn’t see the place.’ He turned to his sister-in-law. ‘Do you want to go?’

Julie hesitated. Of course she wanted to go. But a morning spent in Robert’s company could be disastrous to her peace of mind. Nevertheless, a morning spent with Lucy Pemberton was likely to be much worse.

‘Of course I want to go,’ she said, infusing a note of casual interest into her voice, endeavouring to show him she was in complete control of herself again. ‘If you’d woken me earlier, I’d not have kept you waiting so long.’

Robert looked relieved. ‘Fine. Well, get a coat. It’s fine, but it’s damn cold, believe me.’

‘I do.’ Julie nodded, and with lightening steps left the room.

The only coat she had to wear at the moment was the sable fur which had been her only extravagance, and which she had bought on the advice of a friend, before leaving Kuala Lumpur. It had seemed ridiculous buying such a garment out there, but she had been glad of its warmth yesterday afternoon getting off the aircraft. So she put it on, grimacing at the purple trousers as she did so. Actually, though, they didn’t look at all bad together, the coat being only a little longer than thigh length anyway. Strands of her hair looked pale and attractive against the upturned collar, and she decided there was no trace now of her earlier distress.

When she returned to the lounge, Robert stubbed out the cigar he had been smoking and walked abruptly towards the outer door followed by an excited Emma. Lucy clicked her tongue in obvious annoyance.

‘And when will you be back?’ she demanded. ‘It’s nearly eleven o’clock now!’ She gave Julie a crushing stare. ‘I thought you said you wanted to go shopping.’

Julie was taken aback. It had not been her suggestion that they might visit the stores. ‘We can go another day,’ she replied, glancing awkwardly at Robert to observe his reaction.