Authors: Sally Wentworth
'Of course; my parents have found a new tease of life since they've become grandparents.’
She laughed. 'They might not be quite so keen after they've had Sam all day tomorrow.'
'And overnight,' Seton grinned.
Lucie gave bun an old-fashioned look. 'When did you arrange that?'
'I haven't yet—but I'm certainly going to now that I've seen you hi that hat.'
'You're incorrigible.'
'It's your own fault, woman; you shouldn't be so sensational.' And he kissed her again. The next day was warm and sunny but without a breeze, exactly right for all those hats. As Seton had predicted, Lucie had a wonderful time. They had a stretch limo to take them to the racecourse and set out then: picnic in the car park, alongside all the Rolls Royces and Bentleys. Because they were all women together they could let their hair down and there was a lot of laughter, especially after they'd opened the second bottle of champagne. Lucie was enjoying herself as much as the others until a photographer she hadn't noticed came along and took a shot of them all as they clustered round the frothing bottle of bubbly with their glasses.
'That was a good one,' the photographer remarked. 'It might be accepted by a paper. Give me your names for the caption, ladies.'
Lucie hesitated but decided to be cautious. 'I don't want my name hi a newspaper,' she said to Anna, the friend next to her. 'Please see that he doesn't get it.' And she got to her feet and walked quickly away. When she got back ten minutes later the man had gone.
'You didn't give him my name, did you?' she asked, trying to sound casual.
'No.' Anna hesitated. 'But Fiona talked to him, gave him her name. I think she's a bit squiffy,' she admitted. 'But don't worry; why on earth would they put us hi the paper when they've got all these beautiful women and outfits to choose from?'
Which was very true. They packed away the picnic, walked down to watch the races, and Lucie forgot about the photographer hi the excitement of picking two winners.
And Seton kept his promise—more than fulfilled it as he made love to her that night hi front of the mirror, their passion for each other seeming to be doubled as they not only felt but saw themselves giving and taking such glorious pleasure. 'Hold your hat on, sweetheart,' Seton groaned out. 'Because I'm going to blow your mind.'
That made Lucie start to laugh, but soon she was gasping, her eyes closing in exquisite sensuality then opening to see their straining bodies in the mirror. She moaned, the eroticism of it almost too much to bear, and then cried out in ecstasy as Seton lifted her off the ground and held her to him. They were free tonight, with Sam not there, to give voice to their excitement, to cry out the other's name, to give full rein to a hunger that was heightened but never satiated.
Lucie woke late the next morning, able to sleep in because Sam wasn't there and Seton didn't have to go to work. She showered and dressed, taking her time, smiling when she saw her discarded hat on the floor. Carefully she packed it away in her wardrobe, sentimentally thinking that she would keep it for ever, take it out when they were old and grey and smile in happy remembrance of the past night.
Seton had made breakfast and was sitting in their big, sunlit kitchen reading the paper. He glanced at the back page then gave an exclamation of astonishment. 'Lucie! Your picture's in the paper!'
'What?'
She looked over his shoulder as he held the paper for her to see. It made a good photograph, in colour, all of them in their chic outfits, laughing and happy as they held out their glasses to catch the fountain of bubbles like diamonds in the sun. Lucie was in the forefront, easily recognisable, the most attractive of them all, and her name was clearly given, along with the name of the village from which they all came.
Seton said, 'How amazing. You didn't tell me you'd had it taken.'
'I forgot. There were so many beautiful women there, and lots of photographers going around. I didn't mink they'd ever print it.'
'But it's a wonderful shot. You all look so happy.' He grinned at her and put his arm round her waist. 'I told you you'd be the most beautiful woman there.'
She gave him a hug and sat opposite him, helping herself to cereals, looking across at the photograph as Seton read the rest of the paper. Her heart sank a little and Lucie wondered if she had changed much over the last ten years. Would anyone who had known her then recognise the same person in the sophisticated young woman in the picture? On the whole she thought not, and they certainly wouldn't recognise the name of Lucie Wallace, of course. That thought made LUCK feel considerably better, enough to make her laugh at her fears as absurd. She was safe now
—safe and secure in the world that Seton had given her.
He gave a sound of disdain and read out an item from the paper that had caught his eye. He often did this, keeping up with the news, especially with politics, and frequently made some quite scathing remarks when he disagreed with something. Often, though, he lead out items that amused him too, or that aroused his sympathy. 'You must read this piece,' he told her, a few minutes later. 'It's a report on how women drivers can take steps to protect themselves if they break down when they're alone.'
'You've already given me a mobile phone.'
'Wouldn't hurt to read it, though.'
Lucie smiled, knowing that his most anxious concern was always for her safety and well-being. He made another angry sound. 'They'll have to do something about the overcrowding in the prisons. There's a piece here about a man who shot a policeman actually being allowed out four years early. He was sentenced to fifteen years but has only served eleven.'
The jug of fruit juice that Lucie was holding slipped dangerously in her hand as her blood ran cold. 'R-really? What
—what was his name?' Somehow she managed to say the words although her voice seemed somehow disembodied, not part of herself any more.
'What?' Seton's eyes had already moved on, but he looked back at the item. Even before he spoke she somehow knew what he was going to say. The premonition was so strong that she felt no surprise when he said, 'Some foreign name. Oh, yes, here it is. Rick Ravena.'
He went on to say something else but Lucie didn't hear him; time seemed to have stopped. It was the only name in all the world that she had hoped never to hear again, the name of the man who had ruined her life, whose vindictiveness had sent her to prison for something she hadn't done.
Lucre went on automatically pouring the orange juice, but her hand was shaking now and she slopped some onto the table. Quickly she got up to get a cloth, turned her back on Seton so that he couldn't see her face. He glanced at his watch. 'We'd better get a move on; remember, we're booked for a game of tennis at the club before we pick up Sam from my parents.'
Lucie desperately wanted to be alone, to try and come to terms with this terrible news. She thought about saying that she didn't feel up to playing tennis, but knew that Seton would insist on staying with her if she felt unwell. So perhaps it would be better to go; at least they would be among other people, so that Seton's attention would be distracted from her. They were so close that she was very afraid that he would notice there was something wrong. Most of the girls who'd been to Ascot the previous day were at the club, revelling in their brief hour of fame. Anna saw them arrive and immediately came over. 'Have you seen the paper? Isn't it wonderful?' She kissed Lucie on the cheek but Seton on the mouth, her eyes smiling up at him. 'I'm going to phone the newspaper and ask them to let me have a copy of the photo to frame.'
'A great idea,' Seton enthused. 'Perhaps you could get one for us as well?'
'Of course.' Anna slipped her arm through Seton's and led him over to a fixtures list on the wall. 'Look, we've been drawn together in the Draw for a Partner tournament.'
Seton looked at the list but soon came back to Lucie. She raised a strained face to his and he frowned. 'Is anything the matter, darling?'
She managed to give a hollow little laugh. 'Anna's flirting with you again.'
He shrugged. 'Anna flirts with everybody.'
But Lucie shook her head. 'She fancies you.'
'Good heavens, you're not worried about it, are you?' Seton said in amazement. 'You must know that it doesn't mean a thing to me. No other woman in the world even exists when I have you.'
He said it simply, his feelings utterly genuine and plain to read. It made Lucie feel humble but so wonderfully secure in his love for her. But she was secure in nothing else, her peace of mind shattered by news of Rick Ravena's freedom. It was because of it, because she was feeling so pulverised that she'd even mentioned Anna's manner. She'd always known that the other girl liked Seton, even though she had a husband of her own, and usually she just ignored it, but today she was feeling too tense to just let it go.
They played their match and lost, Lucie playing badly, unable to concentrate on the game. Afterwards Seton put a comforting arm round her shoulders and whispered in her ear, 'I'm not surprised you haven't any energy after last night.'
For a brief moment she didn't understand, then managed to give him a rather unsteady smile as she bitterly realised that this news of Rick had driven the
memory of their wonderful night together completely from her mind.
The clubhouse had a small restaurant attached to it; after they'd showered they went into it and Anna, who was sitting at a table by the big picture windows with her husband, Martin, immediately waved to diem, indicating that she'd saved seats for them.
Anna and Martin were, Lucie supposed, their closest friends in the village. They lived only half a mile away and their circumstances were similar, each couple having just the one child, both boys and the same age. The two women often babysat for each other or looked after the two boys during the day if one of them needed to go out alone. They were close friends, yet Lucie sometimes sensed that Anna was jealous of her, of her marriage to Seton which was so obviously happy. In some ways it was a one-sided friendship because Anna was the confiding type, often complaining about Martin who, she said, wasn't very virile. Lucie, on the other hand, never discussed her marriage, but then she had absolutely nothing to complain about—entirely the opposite in fact. Usually they all chatted amicably together, but today, although Lucie tried her best, her thoughts were continuously elsewhere and she often fell silent. Their meal over, with Lucie's plate hardly touched, Seton gave her a frowning glance and said firmly, 'I'm afraid we have to go and pick up Sam.'
'Oh, you don't have to go yet, surely?' Anna put a hand on Seton's arm. 'We could have another match.'
'Lucie's feeling tired.'
Anna gave Lucie a speculative look. 'Yes, you do look awfully pale. Are you all right?'
'Fine,' Lucie lied. 'As Seton said, I'm just a little tired.'
They went to collect Sam but Seton's mother insisted they stay to tea, and to refuse would have been unfair after all their kindness, so it was early evening before they got home, by which time Lucie was so tense with trying to pretend that there was nothing the matter that she felt close to screaming point. Looking at her set face, Seton frowned. 'I have that meeting to go to tonight, but you don't look at all well; would you like me to put it off?'
Lucie gave an almost audible sigh of relief. 'No, of course not. I'm going to have a bath and go to bed early. I'll be fine.'
She knew that the meeting tonight was important so she was able to persuade him to go, and as he left she thought that, God help her, for the first time in her life she was glad that he wasn't going to be there, that she could be alone. After she had gone through the now familiar ceremony of putting Sam to bed—of giving him his bath, talking through the day, and then reading him two stories—Lucie was at last free to seek the comfort of her own bed, to lie there in the darkness, her fevered mind a prey to fears and memories.
She hadn't thought about the past for a long time— from the moment of her marriage she had deliberately put it out of her mind—but this morning it had all come flooding rudely back. Lucie bitterly resented the intrusion of the past into the present. She had long ago stopped thinking about Rick Ravena, had even stopped comparing Seton's family life and upbringing with her own.
An only child, he had been so fortunate to have dose, loving parents. They had given him a wonderful home, a good education and made sure that he had a full knowledge of the world and what it had to offer. Any talents he had shown had been encouraged, so that he was good at sports and much else besides. But they had been careful not to smother him, and had given him the degree of independence that had made him into the confident, supremely assured man that he was today.
Her own upbringing had been a stark contrast. Her mother had deserted her and her father when she was very young. 'Gone off with some damn stud and saddled me with her brat,' her father had often railed. If he had been her real father. Sometimes, when he'd had too much to drink, he had gone on about her not being like him, 'You're too bloody clever to be mine,' he'd mutter. 'Too bloody clever by half.' And he'd often accused her of driving her mother away, which had deeply upset Lucie as a child, when she hadn't understood what had happened. She had been made to feel guilty but hadn't known why, so had drawn into herself in defence. But her father must have cared for her in his way because he'd kept her with him, even marrying again to have a woman to look after her. But that hadn't fasted long and he'd got divorced. After that there had been several other women he'd lived with but not married, who had treated Lucie with varying degrees of rough kindness or outright resentment, until he'd finally got married for the third time to a woman who already had three young children of her own.
Lucie had been very bright at school, finding more peace and interest outside her home than she'd ever found in it, and she'd worked hard because the only praise she'd ever got was from her teachers. There had been talk of her being university material, but that had soon stopped after her father had firmly said that she was leaving the minute she was old enough to go out to work. But he had died when she was fourteen, falling off a ladder and landing on his head. For a few months he had been in Intensive Care, but his brain had been virtually dead, and in the end they'd turned off the life-support machines and he'd died of pneumonia soon afterwards. Even now Lucie couldn't think about the hell the next year had been, as she was made to look after her stepbrothers and sister while her stepmother went out every night, having to do all the housework and often being kept off school. She was hit, and hit hard, for the slightest misdemeanour, or even for no reason other than that her stepmother was in a bad mood and felt like it. But she was given a roof over her head until the longed-for sixteenth birthday arrived, and she left the same day, travelling down to London to stay at the YWCA and get herself a job. Her big ambition had been to go to evening classes, to take courses so that she could better herself and never be dependent on anyone again. But it didn't work out like that. Lucie had only been in London a couple of weeks when she met Rick. He chatted her up in a coffee-bar, and straight away her life was transformed into something exciting and glamorous. He had a fast car, a flat of his own, and always enough money to take her out to clubs and discos. Her ambitions were forgotten as Lucie fell under his dominating spell, and soon she would have done anything he wanted.