Past All Forgetting (22 page)

'What do you mean?' Janna felt as if an icy fist was twisting in the pit of her stomach.

Beth shrugged. 'Ask Mrs Watson,' she returned. 'I'm sure she'll be only too glad to enlighten you. All right, Colin, I'm coming.' She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Janna fighting hard to gain her composure. She pushed the plate of food away, feeling that another bite would choke her, and got up from the table. Somehow she had to get to the bottom of this. At school, she had been sure that Lucy Watson was responsible, in some way for the unpleasant atmosphere. Now it appeared that her mother was generating the hostility she had sensed that afternoon. But why? Simply because Lucy had not been given the role in the play that she coveted? It seemed too trivial to contemplate.

She poured the remains of her tea into an empty cup awaiting collection on a nearby table and walked towards the tea urn where Mrs Watson was stationed. She was a tall handsome woman, in spite of her rapidly greying dark hair, showing clearly where Lucy had derived her good looks from. The glance she gave Janna as she approached was clearly inimical.

'More tea—Miss Prentiss?' The deliberate pause carried a calculated insult.

'Thank you.' Janna held out her cup with an assumption of calm. 'How—how are the family?'

'As well as can be expected.' Mrs Watson splashed tea into the cup and added milk from a large glass jug.

Janna hesitated. 'I'm afraid Lucy was rather disappointed not to get the part of the Virgin Mary in the play at the end of term,' she said, deciding to take the bull by the horns.

'We were all disappointed,' was the cold reply. 'None more so than our Maureen. She'd set her heart on her little sister playing the part she'd had. And she was very put out when she heard who'd been picked instead of our Lucy. Very put out'

'I'm sorry you should have taken it like that,' Janna said quietly. 'But I think when you see the play, you'll have to agree that Fleur has a very lovely voice and…'

'Lovely voice!' There was contempt in Mrs Watson's tone. 'You're not fooling anyone with that tale, Miss Prentiss, though you may have had a college education and think you're a cut above the rest of us. Our Maureen never had a college education. All she could manage was a job as a chambermaid in a hotel, but at least she's kept herself respectable.'

Janna felt sick at the venom in the older woman's voice.

think I'd better go before you say something you may regret,' she said quickly, and made to turn away, but Mrs Watson gripped her arm, oblivious of the fact that people were watching.

'Would you like to know where she's working now, Miss? At the Bartley Motel, that's where, and she was on duty one Tuesday night not so long ago. She saw you arrive, and she saw you leave—and you engaged to another man.' 

Janna was as white as a sheet. Mrs Watson continued inexorably, 'You don't fool us any more with your airs and graces. You gave that Fleur child the part in the play to try and please your fancy man, and a lot of good that's done you, from what I hear.'

Janna's voice sounded numb and dead in her own ears. 'You're wrong—quite wrong. I didn't…'

She was suddenly terribly aware of the listening ears all around them, picking up every damning word that had fallen from Mrs Watson's lips; the eager eyes, assimilating with delighted horror the latest sensation to break in the little town. She tore herself free from Mrs Watson and headed for the door, half-blinded with tears.

She was not even aware that there was anyone standing in the doorway, until she collided with them. Strong hands seized her shoulders as she stumbled, forcing her to remain upright. Her startled eye§ looked up to meet Rian's.

'You?' she whispered brokenly. 'Oh, God, Rian, let me go!'

'Don't be such a fool,' he said grimly. 'You're not in a fit state to go anywhere, apparently. Kim, grab that chair over there.'

Dizzily Janna was aware of a subtle, elusive perfume. She glanced up and saw a piquant heart-shaped face with dark almond-shaped eyes, and a soft mouth curved now in a sympathetic smile. In the prosaic interior of the assembly rooms, Kim San was like some exquisitely exotic tropical blossom, strayed by chance into a village horticultural show.

'Please.' She shook her head. 'If I could just have my coat. I must leave. You don't know…'

'I think I do.' His mouth was set, his face carved in lines of granite. 'But you can't leave alone. I'll drive you home. Kim, you'll be all right?'

Janna's coat, somehow, was around her shoulders and she was being manoeuvred through the crowds to the door.

'But your—Kim,' she gasped, as they reached the exit. 'You can't leave her here like this.'

'Why not?' He gave her an irritated look. 'She won't come to any harm, and all this is a novelty to her, remember.'

'I suppose it would be,' Janna said dully.

She was silent until they were in the car and driving through the market place crowds. Rian's face was taut and unyielding as he manipulated the high-powered vehicle through the teeming streets. Janna leaned back against the smooth leather of the seat, her eyes closed. She felt totally shattered by the scene with Mrs Watson, but at least she knew now the source of the poison which had entered her life, though she might not be able to fight it. A tear squeezed down the curve of her cheek. Beside her, she heard Rian curse softly under his breath. The car came to an abrupt halt. Dazedly she opened her eyes and found that they were parked in a small side-street.

Then Rian's arms were round her, drawing her towards him until she felt the warm steady beat of his heart under her cheek, and she wept against him, a long soundless, mindless outburst of hurt and pain and humiliation, while his hands held her and his voice murmured things she only barely heard.

When she could master her voice sufficiently to speak, she said, 'You—you know what happened?'

'Yes.' He was silent for a moment. 'Janna, as God is my witness, whatever I intended, I didn't mean it all to end like this. I never dreamed…' He halted abruptly. 'Oh hell,' he said angrily, but whether his anger was directed at her or himself, she could not fathom. His hand came under her chin, forcing her face up to meet his, and he kissed her, her lips, her eyes, her tear-stained cheeks, until the world dwindled to the pressure of his mouth on hers.

Compulsively, her arms fastened round his neck, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, as her slim body arched against his in a silent offering.

'Janna!' He half-groaned her name, then thrust her forcibly away from him. He sat for a few moments, gripping the steering wheel, fighting for his self-control, then he leaned forward and flicked the ignition switch. 'I'll take you home,' he said tonelessly.

The journey was soon accomplished. Janna sat slouched in her seat, staring ahead of her with blank eyes. When the car stopped, she sat up with a jerk, fumbling for the catch on the passenger door.

'Wait,' Rian said impatiently. He got out, and came round the car to open the door. His hand gripped her arm bruisingly as he helped her out of the car, and slammed the door shut behind her. He steered her towards her gate, and she tried to pull away from him.

'Thank you—but I'm all right now.'

'Don't be a fool,' he told her curtly. 'You're not fit to be left on your own.'

'I don't want your pity!' She wrenched her arm free, furiously.

'You're not getting it.' He was still implacably at her shoulder when she readied the front door. Her hand shook as she fitted the key into the lock. The house was empty, she knew. Her mother was still at the bazaar, in happy ignorance of what had transpired, Janna hoped with all her heart, and her father would be at the golf club.

Her voice trembling, she said, 'Rian—please go.'

He put out a hand and stroked her cheek lightly. 'Pre,' he promised.

He pushed her gently but firmly towards the sitting room. 'Go and sit down. I'll make some coffee.'

'But you don't know where everything is,' she protested, conscious of how feeble it sounded.

'I'll manage,' he said briefly. 'Do as you're told.'

She walked into the sitting room, and switched on the tall standard lamp in the corner, then she drew the curtains and took the guard away from the front of the fire, adding more fuel and coaxing it into a blaze.

Rian came in carrying two steaming cups and deposited them on the small table in front of the sofa. She sipped at hers and gasped, 'What's in it?'

'Some brandy. I found a bottle in the pantry.' He gave her a look of faint amusement. 'Have you lost your taste for it?'

She coloured, remembering only too well the last disastrous occasion on which she had drunk brandy.

'I don't think I ever had one,' she said wearily. 'I just needed some—Dutch courage, as you said. Is this why I'm being given a second dose of the medicine?'

'No.' He stretched his long legs out to the fire, and gave her a considering look. 'I think your own courage will carry you through this, Janna, if you'll let it.'

'Thank you for the good advice.' She set the cup back on the table. 'It must be a great satisfaction to you to know that you've achieved everything you wanted. You wanted to see me—brought low, didn't you? Well, I'm down, Rian. I'm on my knees.'

'I'll have to take your word for it,' he said slowly. 'I never believed your emotions were so involved.'

'No?' she gave a little, bitter laugh. 'It's all right, Rian, you don't have to bother about it. Just write it off as another adolescent crush. Only this time, I've hurt no one but myself. There's a sort of rough justice in that. It should please you.'

He swore violently, setting his own cup down so sharply that half the contents deluged the carpet.

'To hell with justice,' he said furiously. 'I'm not interested in that, and you know it. But is it just a crush, Janna? God help me, but I have to know.'

She shrank into the corner of the sofa, her eyes dilating wildly as he reached for her.

'No, you mustn't…'

'And who's going to stop me—you?' He shook his head slowly. 'I don't think so, Janna, and this time I intend to make sure.'

His weight crushed her against the softness of the chintz-covered cushions. Eyes closed, she fought him, her mouth clamped tightly shut against the insistence of his, her hands braced against his muscular chest. Then with a rush of shamed urgency, she realised she was fighting no one but herself. There was no sense of triumph in his conquest, but she was aware of passion barely held in check. It would take so little, she knew, for the final barrier between them to be swept away. So little.

When at last he lifted his head, the expression in his eyes both frightened and exalted her.

'Your room,' he whispered unsteadily. 'Where is it?'

For a moment, she was tempted—tempted to snatch what happiness she could while it was being offered. It would only take a word from her and heaven could be hers.

But what kind of hell would take its place ultimately?

A sudden vision of Kim San rose up in front of her, with all her slender, appealing charm. And there was Fleur to think of too. At last Fleur had the chance of a settled home—family life. Rian belonged to them now. They were waiting for him even at this moment.

With a little cry of self-disgust, she pulled away from him. 'You have no right,' she accused him, a break in her voice. 'No right…'

'No,' he said heavily, at last, 'I see that.' There was a long pause, then he got up and reached for his car coat, draped across the back of the sofa. She watched him dumbly, unable to move or speak.

He fastened the coat, watching her with sombre eyes.

'So it's goodbye, then,' he said quietly. 'I had hoped it might turn out differently. But I suppose it was always impossible. Too much has happened. Too much hurting, too much bitterness.'

'At least no one else will be hurt,' she said tonelessly.

'Oh, no.' His soft mirthless laugh sent a knife twisting in her heart. 'No one at all. Goodbye, sweet witch. I won't ask you to forgive me.'

She stayed motionless where she was, hearing the front door close behind him, and seconds later the sound of the car engine as he drove away.

She looked dully at the coffee cups, telling herself that she should clear them away—find a cloth and mop up the carpet—do a hundred and one useful and meaningless jobs to keep the ache of loss and longing that was beginning to overwhelm her at bay.

Rian had gone, and she had sent him away to Kim—and to Fleur who needed him. And the knowledge that she had behaved well was no consolation at all for the feeling of despair that filled her.

She sat for a long time in the quiet room, dry-eyed, her face buried in her hands while she tried to come to terms with what had happened. She was brought back to the pain of reality by the sound of the front door opening, and her mother's voice calling anxiously to her.

She made herself reply, and a moment later her mother came in, unbuttoning her coat, reaching for the main switch and flooding the room with light.

'Oh, there you are, Janna,' she said in a relieved tone. 'I wondered what had happened to you. Mrs Armstrong said you had gone home early—she thought you had been taken ill perhaps.'

'Is that what she said?' Janna asked dryly.

'Well—not in so many words,' Mrs Prentiss said rather fretfully. 'I can't remember what she did say—but I know it was—odd. But then everyone's been odd this afternoon. People have been passing the strangest remarks.' Her eyes fell on the used cups. 'Has someone been here?'

'Yes,' Janna paused. 'Did—did no one tell you that Rian Tempest brought me home?'

'No, they didn't,' Mrs Prentiss said sharply. 'And it's a wonder, because I've had nothing else but Rian Tempest —Rian Tempest pushed down my throat all afternoon.' She gave Janna a troubled look. 'Was that wise, do you think?'

Janna shrugged. 'Probably not,' she said quietly, 'but it doesn't matter any more. He's gone now, and he won't be coming back.' She moistened her dry lips. 'He—he'll probably be getting married quite soon.'

'She was there with him this afternoon, you know, and the child. People were saying it was brazen.'

'People would.' Janna gave a sigh. 'What else did they expect—that he was going to immure them both at Carrisbeck House?'