Bronzed and glowing, Rosie entered the grand dining room of the Hôtel de Paris wearing a white halter neck evening dress, cut on flowing Grecian lines with a cascade of pearls around her neck. Heads turned as she swayed her way to one of the tables in the window, followed by Salton, to where Lady Fulsham and Philibert were sitting, drinking champagne.
‘I’m so sorry we’ve kept you waiting,’ Rosie trilled, ‘Salton had a business call from London which I thought would never end!’
Ten days in the South of France had changed Rosie from a pale discontented housewife into a dazzling beauty, brimming with confidence and joie de vivre. As she took her seat she accepted Philibert’s offer of champagne with a prettily coquettish tilt of her head and a radiant smile.
Sitting quietly beside her, Salton felt a painful mixture of pride and hurt. Rosie had never been like this before. Even when they got engaged and then married, and he’d bought her the house she wanted, she’d never fizzled and sparkled and been merry and laughing like this. It was as if a switch had been turned on in her head and instead of finding the world a grey bleak place in which she was unhappy, she’d discovered this sunny paradise, where she could shine, unchallenged. There was no Juliet to steal the limelight, and no Charlotte who had been tipped as an up-and-coming fashion model of outstanding beauty. He couldn’t help feeling hurt and inadequate because he was perfectly well aware that he wasn’t the cause of her new-found happiness. And he knew in his heart now that he never would be.
Rosie, like Liza, thrived on the admiration of strangers. Like an actress her stage was the world of socializing, on a grand scale. Unless of course… the change in her was so remarkable he was struck by a sudden suspicion, could it be…? He started counting how many days they’d been away as he pretended to study the menu. It was just possible, he reckoned, that she’d become pregnant in the past ten days. It would account for the vibrant joy that emanated from her. Pregnancy was supposed to make women feel special and contented, wasn’t it? With mounting secret excitement he started counting the days again. He was sure he hadn’t got the dates wrong; goodness knows they’d spent time every month since they’d been married, counting the days since… It was possible! he thought with a wave of exultation. He looked across the table at Rosie, watching her as she chatted to Philibert and his aunt. Her eyes blazed with excitement and her skin gleamed with well-being. She must be pregnant!
Salton felt his eyes prick with emotion and a huge sense of relief swept over him. At that moment he wished they’d been alone, so great was his desire to take her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her. Darling Rosie, he thought tenderly. He adored her so much. Now they were going to be a real family, after all, with Sophia and Jonathan whom he’d also grown to love. Sipping his champagne, he silently thanked God he’d brought her on this trip. The warm weather, relaxed atmosphere, plenty of good food and wine and the sea air had worked their magic, and their dearest wish was about to be granted.
‘So when do you have to return to England?’ he heard Lady Fulsham ask him. ‘We shall miss you very much when you leave here.’
Salton beamed at the elderly lady of whom he’d grown quite fond. ‘In a couple of days, I’m afraid,’ he replied genially. ‘We’ve had the best time ever, but, alas, I have to get back to work.’
‘Such a pity.’ Her tone was wistful, as she spread her hands in a gesture of appeal, her heavy rings almost slipping from her thin fingers.
‘Philibert is planning a big trip on the Marie Clare. We’re going to go across the Tyrrhenian Sea to Palermo and then on to Catania and Valletta and end up in Gozo. It would have been such a lovely trip for you both if you could have stayed longer.’
‘It sounds wonderful but we really do have to get back,’ Salton said, with genuine regret. ‘And you’re going, too?’
‘Certainement. Philibert thinks I need to get away for a rest.’ Her voice was frail and tinged with sadness. ‘But I have too much rest as it is. I miss Walter so terribly. That’s my problem. We were so devoted and when he died, it seemed as if he’d taken the rest of my life with him.’
‘Perhaps,’ Salton suggested gently, ‘Philibert just thinks a change of scene would be good for you?’
Lady Fulsham shrugged and spoke simply. ‘My broken heart goes with me where ever I am.’
A burst of laughter from Rosie and Philibert interrupted their conversation and the mood became lighter as they dined on exquisitely cooked roast fillet of beef garnished with foie gras, and soufflé glace amardine to follow.
Rosie continued to chatter gaily and the evening passed swiftly, with Salton and Philibert engaged in amusing badinage, while Lady Fulsham watched them all and wished she was still young.
Salton awoke in the early hours of the next morning and heard Rosie in the bathroom of their suite, moaning and swearing in equal measure.
‘Bloody hell! Oh, damnation! For God’s sake…!’ she wailed shrilly.
He slid rapidly from the bed and rushed to her side, guessing what had happened. She was sitting on the loo and the tears were rolling down her angry face.
‘A thousand fucks!’ she exploded forcefully when she saw him standing helplessly in his pyjamas. ‘What the hell’s wrong? I got pregnant at the drop of a hat with Charles,’ she added accusingly. ‘And this time I was so sure’
‘Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.’ He stepped forward to put his arms around her.
‘Get off me,’ she shrieked furiously, raising her arms as if she might strike him. ‘This is the last fucking straw. I really thought that this time…’ She shook her head in furious grief. ‘It’s so unfair!’
Salton had never felt so useless in his life. Words of comfort weren’t going to be any use this time; he’d offered the usual banalities too often now for them to be of any comfort to her. Every month her disappointment grew greater and more anguished. Instead he went to the drinks cabinet in their suite and poured her a glass of brandy.
‘Here, honey, have this,’ he suggested, handing it to her.
She pushed it away. ‘I don’t want a bloody drink. Why can’t I have a baby? That’s all I want. Why doesn’t it happen? Month after month I live in hope, but it never happens.’
Salton rinsed one of the hotel’s face flannels in cold water and tried to dab her brow with it, but she rose, and turned angrily away.
‘For God’s sake, leave me alone, Salton,’ she shouted. ‘Why the hell can’t you just leave me alone?’ Then she grabbed a large towel from the heated rail and wrapping it around herself, stomped back to their bedroom.
Salton lay carefully down beside her, but he couldn’t sleep. There was no dealing with Rosie when she was in this mood and he prayed that by the morning she’d be in a better frame of mind. For the rest of the night she lay as far away from him as she could in the large double bed, and in the morning she was up early, washing her hair and making up her face with particular care.
‘What would you like to do today, honey?’ Salton asked as he joined her for their petit dejeuner which a waiter had put on a table on the balcony, overlooking the sea.
Her profile was stubborn as she gazed at the ink blue line of the horizon. ‘I want to stay on here a bit longer,’ she said evenly.
Salton looked appalled. ‘But I have to be back at the Embassy on Monday.’
Her tone was impatient as if she thought him stupid. ‘I know that,’ she snapped. ‘They want us to go on that cruise with them, you know,’ she continued, as if it was obvious who she was talking about. ‘Lady Fulsham’s quite frail, and she said last night how she wished I was accompanying them, so I could keep her company.’
‘But they’ll be away for weeks,’ Salton protested. ‘They’re going all over…’
‘I know,’ she snapped again, ‘and I think I’ll join them. Nanny can stay on with the children at Hartley and you’ll be all right on your own in town, won’t you? It’s ages since I’ve had a really good time, and I’ve never travelled anywhere. We were always sent to Bembridge or Frinton with Nanny when we were children, and frankly, I’ve only had seaside holidays like that. This would be a marvellous opportunity to see a bit of the world. And in luxury, too.’
‘But we’ve hardly any money left. You couldn’t stay here.’
Rosie turned to face him. ‘God, you do look on the black side of things, don’t you? When Philibert first mentioned the cruise he said we could always leave our things in the suite with Lady Fulsham’s servants. All I need is my fare home and I’m sure they’d lend me some money for spending, I could repay them next time they’re in England.’
Salton’s eyebrows were raised in disquiet. ‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, because you’re such a stick-in-the-mud! I knew you’d raise every objection you could think of,’ she retorted.
‘So you’ve made up your mind?’
‘Yes.’ As she spoke, she rose, tying the sash of her pink satin dressing gown firmly. ‘If you refuse to stay then I will, and go with them on my own.’
‘Rosie, you know I’d like to stay…’ he began, but she’d swept off to the bathroom, and shut the door behind her.
Two days later Salton cut a lonely figure as he climbed into the auto-taxi to take him to Nice aerodrome. Rosie was standing on the top steps of the Hôtel de Paris waving him goodbye and he raised his soft brown trilby in acknowledgement. There was an excitement about her that slightly puzzled him, in view of her recent crushing disappointment. Then he saw she was waving to someone else, a dashing male figure who was crossing the road and making for the hotel.
Suddenly it occurred to Salton, in a heart-thudding stab of impending doom, that maybe going on a cruise wasn’t the only thing that was making Rosie smile so radiantly and wave with such relentless anticipation.
Rosie sat on the deck of the Marie Clare gazing enraptured at the dark star-lit waters of the Mediterranean as they headed towards Naples, its harbour outlined with pin-pricks of light. A balmy breeze ruffled her hair and tickled the warm skin of her bare shoulders. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so deliciously happy.
Lady Fulsham had retired to her cabin after dinner, and Philibert was on the bridge, discussing with the captain the navigational route for tomorrow, and deciding whether to drop anchor at Capri for a couple of days or not.
‘Heaven,’ Rosie whispered to herself, thankful there were only the three of them on board plus a very discreet crew who managed to remain in the background most of the time. The yacht had been built in 1929, and it rode the water as smoothly as a knife cutting through butter. The atmosphere seemed to be charged with romance, a setting for a Hollywood film or an Ivor Novello musical. Rosie breathed deeply and felt a great sweeping desire to be loved. She was in a fairy tale setting and it seemed a waste to be alone, here, on a night like this.
Philibert suddenly appeared out of the darkness, walked silently on deck towards her, a tall slender figure in white, with a glass of champagne in each hand.
‘There you are!’ he said, making her wonder where else he thought she might be. ‘I’ve brought us a nightcap.’
Rosie was bowled over. There was something so intimate about the way he’d said ‘us.’ And the night was warm and the gentle breeze smelled of roses and pine.
‘How lovely!’ She took the glass from him, aware of his fingers touching hers. Then he sat down beside her on the basket-weave sofa, so close his hip pressed into hers. She sipped the ice cold pungent wine and instantly felt dizzy. Desire now ripped through her leaving a fiery trail, hot with a deep sense of longing.
It flashed through her mind that Charles had never made her feel like this, that Freddie had, but only at the beginning of their affair, and that Salton never had and never could cause this scorching feeling inside.
She looked up and realized Philibert was watching her.
‘You’re looking very beautiful tonight, Rosie,’ he said, his French accent making the words sound so much sexier than if they’d been spoken by an Englishman. ‘How you say…? A penny for your thoughts?’
‘They’re not worth that!’ She giggled flirtatiously and somewhat nervously.
‘You’re right.’ His voice was serious. ‘Everything about you is more valuable than a penny. You’re pure gold, Rosie. All the way through.’
She felt his hand stroke her back. She could feel the heat of his skin and the warmth of his breath on her cheek as he leaned towards her.
‘No, I… I c-can’t,’ she said, averting her face. There was little protest in her voice, though.
‘You can, Rosie, you can,’ he persisted, closing his arm around her waist. ‘A beautiful woman like you needs to be loved. To be adored and looked after and cherished. The moment I first saw you I thought, mon Dieu! I have found the woman of my dreams! Rosie, mon cherie, don’t deny me my dreams.’
The starlight, the gentle swell of the sea that rocked the boat, the champagne and the passionate ardour of Philibert as he pressed himself against her, melted away any thoughts of loyalty to Salton, and turning to face him again, she allowed him to cover her face with butterfly kisses before he latched on to her mouth with a hungry intensity.
His hands were everywhere, touching, stroking, feeling and searching for all her secret places.
‘We shouldn’t,’ she whimpered as she clung around his neck.
‘But we must,’ he insisted. ‘I must have you. I want to give myself to you, chérie. I must make you mine or I shall die.’
With a swift movement he stood, and picking her up in his arms he carried her across the deck and into his stateroom, where a shaded lamp stood by the large bed. Dazed and wondering if this was really happening, Rosie allowed him to wrench off her pretty dinner dress and underclothes, and all the while he was murmuring softly to her, telling her how exquisite she was, how silky her skin felt, how beautiful her breasts felt in his hands, how sweet her mouth and how glorious her golden hair.
As in a dream, Rosie let him do what he liked with her, as he brought her to a rushing frenzied climax, only to start making love to her all over again a little while later. Breathless and exultant, crying out for more, yet begging him to stop as he plunged her depths again and again, Philibert made her feel like a love goddess for the first time in her life.
She lay back and revelled in every brush of his hand and every touch of his mouth.
This is what love is all about, she reflected hazily, and for a split moment imagined this was what Juliet and Daniel must share. Well, she was going to have it, too. That’s what she needed in her life; an exciting man who made love to her on a romantic yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean, who plied her with champagne and compliments, a man with whom she could share the sunshine of the South of France, the divine food and wine and the luxury of living in a place that hadn’t been decimated by five years of war.
This is what she needed and this is what she would take, like a greedy child who has long been denied sweets.
‘She’s gone mad!’ Juliet exclaimed, shocked, when Salton came round to Park Lane two weeks later, to tell her what had happened. ‘This man’s turned her head!’
He’d aged since he’d received Rosie’s rambling letter, which was written on Hôtel de Paris writing paper. Grey, and with dark shadows under his eyes as if he’d been punched in the face, he sat in one of Juliet’s black drawing-room armchairs which suddenly looked too large for him.
‘Oh, Salton, I’m so, so sorry,’ Juliet said with genuine sympathy, her heart going out to him. She’d introduced him to her sister, thinking he might cheer Rosie up, and all that had happened was that, as Juliet had feared and suspected all along, Rosie had married him mainly because she liked being married, but also because he was ‘a man of substance’ as Granny would have said.
‘Rosie is behaving atrociously,’ she continued. ‘You’ve been so good to her, giving her everything she wanted and now she does this to you. I think it’s appalling.’
Salton’s expression was wintry as he nursed a tumbler of whisky and soda with both hands. ‘Maybe it’s because she wanted a baby so badly and it hasn’t happened.’
Juliet looked indignant. ‘That’s no excuse! Bad behaviour is bad behaviour, whatever the cause. Has she told Mummy and Dads?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I’ve only told you because I want to keep it quiet for the time being in case… in case she changes her mind and comes back,’ he added, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. ‘You never know. She might change her mind and come back.’
Juliet hadn’t the heart to tell him it was unlikely. Rosie was obviously having the time of her life on the Riviera, quite apart from having fallen in love. ‘Well, I won’t be putting out the welcome home mat for her, if she does,’ she retorted acerbically. ‘What about Sophia and Johnnie? How can she bear to leave them behind?’
‘Her letter did say she’d send for them in due course.’ He was making a great effort to be loyal but as the magnitude of what Rosie had done sank in, he was finding it more and more difficult. ‘I wish I hadn’t bought such a big house now. I’m rattling around in it; we’ve even decorated the top floor as a nursery suite… quite apart from Sophia’s and Johnnie’s rooms.’
‘Oh, Salton…!’ She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. ‘Why don’t you come and stay with us for a bit? You don’t want to be on your own in that great house at a time like this. And Daniel would love your company.’
Salton took a gulp of whisky to quench feelings of the pain and disappointment that threatened to engulf him. Juliet was an angel, but he didn’t think he could bear to be in the company of a happily married couple, with a new baby, right now.
‘You’re more than kind, honey, but I’d better stay at home.’ The word ‘home’ hung hollowly in the air between them. There was an awkward silence.
‘At least you’ll stay for dinner. I insist,’ she said robustly.
She took his empty tumbler gently from him. ‘Let me get you the other half.’ She felt so angry with Rosie at that moment she could hardly trust herself to speak. Salton was a thoroughly decent fellow who came from a lovely family, and she felt ashamed at her sister for treating him so badly.
The next morning Juliet phoned her mother to ask if she’d heard from Rosie.
Liza, fussing around their modern flat trying to make it look aristocratic by decking it out with crimson brocade furnishings, sounded vexed. She was having a bad morning. The rooms were too square and boxy with low ceilings and metal window frames to allow her to achieve the grand look she wanted.
‘Yes, I’ve heard from her,’ she snapped. ‘It’s a great pity, but at least she hasn’t gone off with a French waiter or something. This young man is a baron…’
‘Nearly all the upper-class young men on the Continent are Barons or Counts… that is if they aren’t Princes!’ Juliet retorted, dumbfounded by the extraordinary set of values her mother clung to, as if it was still the beginning of the century instead of halfway through it. ‘Who the hell cares what he is!’ she exploded. ‘Rosie has ditched her husband and her children for some foreign charmer who she’s known for five minutes, and I think it’s disgraceful.’
‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about it,’ Liza fretted, wondering if the walls of the drawing room would look better with the red brocade if they were painted silvery grey. ‘Rosie’s a grown woman and I’m sure she’ll want Sophia and Jonathan to join her as soon as she’s settled.’
‘But how is she going to live? She’s only got her dress allowance and she can’t even get hold of that with the present restrictions.’
‘Her young man is probably rich.’
‘Oh, really, Mother. The whole thing is madness and don’t expect me to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart, as it most surely will.’
‘Juliet, you’re so cynical,’ Liza said plaintively.
‘I’m just sorry for Salton.’
‘Yes, well.’ Her mother sighed. ‘These things happen.’
‘Things happen if you let them,’ Louise pointed out when the family gossip finally reached her ears. ‘Mummy, I hope you’ve told Rosie to come straight home.’
‘How can I? She wouldn’t listen to me,’ Liza wailed. ‘Why is everyone blaming me for her running off like this?’
‘Because you’ve got more influence over her than anyone else. How can she leave her children, for one thing?’
In her own little house, which Juliet once described as ‘a place of happy chaos’, Louise was appalled by her sister’s disregard for Sophia and Johnnie. There wasn’t a day when she didn’t think about her own little boy, torn from her side at birth because of the shame of being an unmarried mother. And looking at Daisy now, who was sitting up in her high-chair, giving her mother a wide gummy smile, Louise’s heart melted at the sweetness of her baby, and the joy she’d brought into their lives. It made her realize she’d rather lie down and die than desert Daisy, as Rosie was deserting her own children.
Taking her in her arms, Louise held Daisy close, as if she could never bear to let her go, and kissed the warm little head which was covered with fine blonde curls.
‘My precious little girl,’ she whispered, sitting down in the untidy kitchen, where two blue budgerigars trilled happily in a cage, Bella stood on her hind legs with her paws on Louise’s knee, wanting to be patted, and the latest addition to the family, a small tortoiseshell kitten slept curled up in a basket.
Louise’s eyes brimmed with emotion, part angry, part grateful, as she looked around her. She was doing her best to create a home full of creatures to love. Shane affectionately called it ‘nesting’, and she thanked God for giving her this opportunity to give to others, even if they were only animals, the love she should have been able to give to Rupert.
She knew their house was shambolic; untidy piles of clothes lay about, the washing-up never seemed to get done and the smell of warm country cooking permeated the atmosphere in a way that horrified the rest of the family, but she didn’t care. And neither did Shane. Between them they were creating a real home, unpretentious, comfortable and welcoming. And most important, filled with love.
Oh, Rosie, you don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know the pain you’re causing, she thought.
‘You must both stay with me, at the Hôtel de Paris,’ Lady Fulsham had told Rosie and Philibert when they returned from their cruise. ‘I’ll have a word with the management.’
Rosie had beamed. It was so wonderful to be taken care of by this rich aunt and her nephew, who lived the most idyllic life of luxury, lunching and dining in various restaurants every day, taking drives along the Corniches, with their magnificent coastal views, or motoring up into the mountains of Grasse where the flowers were gathered for the famous perfumes produced in France. And if Lady Fulsham had been shocked when they’d told her they were lovers and that Rosie was seeking a divorce, she didn’t show it.
Sometimes she and Philibert went along the coast to Larvotto, to lie on the artificially created beach, with sand imported from the east, while Lady Fulsham rested after a late night at the casino. Other days they shopped, Rosie using the money from her dress allowance which her mother mailed to her, disguised by being wrapped up in woollen scarves or gloves in a big envelope.
Rosie hadn’t only fallen deeply in love with Philibert, but with the glamour of the Côte d’Azur and Monte Carlo in particular, a haven for the elite, the rich and the decadent. It was a paradise beyond her wildest dreams, and she shuddered when she thought back to the days when she’d been married to Charles, living in a poky village cottage, peeling potatoes in cold water, while Sophia ran about, getting into everything, and Johnnie screamed from his cot. How had she endured it? For that matter, how had she endured the boredom of being married to the worthy Salton? Probably because she’d at least felt financially secure with him, and now she wondered if she’d only wanted a baby because it would justify her marriage and give her something new and amusing to think about?
She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to look after Sophia and Johnnie in this dazzling new life, but right now, having fun was everything. Perhaps she and Philibert could rent a villa, and Nanny could come to look after them?
This wasn’t the moment to mention it, though. Their affair was still so new and exciting and she felt so drugged by sex, that she wanted Philibert all the time as if she could never be satisfied, no matter how often he made love to her.
Anyway, the children were perfectly safe and happy at Hartley with Nanny and Granny and her parents going down every weekend. In fact, she thought they’d probably be terribly bored if they came to Monte Carlo; it wasn’t exactly a place for children.
‘We’re having guests to stay for the weekend at the end of next month,’ Daniel told Juliet when he got home one evening. There was suppressed excitement in his manner and his eyes glowed with anticipation.
She looked up sharply from the book she was reading. ‘Guests?’ she repeated. ‘You mean…?’
He nodded, sitting quickly down beside her on the sofa, and taking her hand. ‘Ruth has relented. I will pick up Sarah, Susan and Leo on the Friday evening and they’ll stay until Sunday.’ The triumph in his voice, mingled with relief, filled the room.
‘Oh, darling, I’m glad.’ Juliet flung her arms around his neck. ‘That’s wonderful news. Are they happy to be coming?’ she added anxiously.
‘Hard to tell with children, but apparently they didn’t put up any resistance.’ He chuckled.
‘We must plan lovely things for them to do; perhaps we could get seats for a matinee?’
Daniel grinned boyishly. ‘They’re no longer small children, you know, sweetheart. Sarah’s sixteen, Susan’s fourteen and Leo’s twelve. I imagine some heavy shopping in Bond Street is what the girls will want to do, and maybe a trip to the Science Museum for Leo.’
‘Then we must take them out to a nice restaurant and perhaps go to a show on Saturday evening? Ivor Novello is still on in The Dancing Years, isn’t he?’ Juliet’s head was spinning with plans. For Daniel’s sake she desperately wanted this first visit to be so successful they’d want to come often. ‘I’m scared, Daniel,’ she said suddenly. ‘I know how much having them to stay means to you; supposing they don’t like me?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, darling, of course they’ll like you. Remember, it wasn’t you who broke up my marriage. Ruth did that on her own.’
‘But we were lovers while you were still married to her. And I did have your baby,’ she added painfully.
Daniel silenced her by kissing her firmly on the mouth. ‘That’s in the past, sweetheart, never to be talked about unless we’re alone.’
‘I know. I know,’ she said nodding. It would still be there in her mind, though, she thought. A guilty secret knowledge that between them they had deceived Ruth. ‘What made Ruth change her mind about them coming here?’
‘Apparently Esther has had a breakdown. She confessed to Ruth that she’d deliberately made mischief in order to try to break us up. She also admitted to having been insane with jealousy over you and Peter Osborne.’
Juliet’s face was compassionate. ‘Poor woman!’ she exclaimed, genuinely shocked. ‘She must have suffered so, to behave in the way she did. I feel quite sorry for her.’
‘It doesn’t excuse her for turning my ex-wife against me so that I wasn’t allowed to see my children. Thank God we can all get together now, and I’m sure they’re going to love you, darling.’
Juliet felt the great weight which had hung over her for a long time slip away, leaving her feeling light and clean, her vision of the future clear at last. She and Daniel were going to make it in spite of the problems they’d had which had lain between them at times like a great impenetrable barrier.
He kissed her again, as one of his hands tenderly stroked the rim of her left ear with his fingertips, and her pearl drop earring quivered at his touch. ‘How can they not love someone who makes me so happy?’
‘How are the newspapers allowed to write about people like this?’ Henry exclaimed, as he sat down to breakfast in the small dining room of their flat. ‘It’s much worse than it was before the war. When Alastair Slaidburn killed himself over Juliet I thought that was bad enough, but it was nothing compared to this.’
Liza sat opposite him, while their daily, Mrs Pinner, brought in a pot of coffee and a rack of fresh toast which she placed on the table. When she trotted back to the kitchen, Liza leaned towards Henry and spoke in a stage whisper. ‘Hide the papers. We don’t want her reading them.’
Henry looked up. ‘Hide them?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘Every newsstand in London, if not in the whole of Britain is going to see the Daily Mail with its front-page story of Rosie leaving Salton,’ he thundered. ‘They’ve turned her affair into the scandal of the week, for God’s sake! Just look at this, Liza.’ He thrust the newspaper across the table into her hands. ‘I must write to Lord Rothermere to complain, and to Lord Beaverbrook,’ he added, catching the headline of the Daily Express which lay on the side table. ‘Why do you buy these rags? I won’t have them in the house in future. Who ever wrote this article about Rosie ought to be shot!’
Liza’s hands trembled as she read:
The former Rosie Granville, a one-time debutante who has left her second husband for a well known French ‘charmer’, Baron Philibert Guerin, who has been linked in the past with rich and titled young women including the heiress, Comtesse Sarita Contini…
‘Maybe he thinks Rosie is an heiress…’ Liza began weakly.
‘Maybe he’s forgotten she’s a married woman with two children,’ Henry snapped, getting up from the table, and storming out of the room and along the corridor to the front door.
‘Henry…! Your breakfast…?’
‘I’m going to make that girl see sense and bring her back to England if I have to drag her by her hair,’ he shouted over his shoulder, before crashing out of the flat.
‘Everything all right, then, Mrs Granville?’ Mrs Pinner asked cheerily as she came out of the kitchen.
‘No, this flat is too small!’ Liza wailed, rushing to her bedroom. There was no privacy. The servants… well, the one daily, could hear everything that was going on, and she fervently wished once again that they still had the elegant spacious rooms they’d once occupied in Green Street, not to mention Parsons, the perfect butler who’d managed to shield her from any unpleasantness.
The trouble was, Liza was missing Rosie, the one child who was her soulmate, and the one who shared her interests, aims and ambitions. When she came up from Hartley, Rosie was the first person she went to see, and they’d go out to have morning coffee at Harrods, before embarking on a few days together that included shopping in Bond Street, going to the cinema, and giving dinner parties. She never had the same fun with Juliet. There was always that feeling at the back of her mind that Juliet rather despised her. As for Louise, she was so wrapped up in her domestic life that she never wanted to go anywhere.
At that moment Charlotte tapped on her bedroom door.
‘Mummy, I’m just off,’ she said, coming into the room, glowing with good health and a newly acquired self-confidence. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back because we’re going on location,’ she added importantly.
Liza turned to look at her youngest and most beautiful daughter with mixed feelings. Her modelling career was taking off and she had an agent now, who was taking fashion bookings for her from all the top fashion photographers, including Norman Parkinson. Today they were going to Richmond Park, hoping to get shots of Charlotte in a tweed and fur winter range of Dior’s New Look against a background of grazing deer.
Proud that her child was considered beautiful enough to appear in all the best magazines, it still wasn’t what Liza had wanted for Charlotte. Surely being a photographic model was only a step away from being an actress? Where would it lead? All the other girls of her age were taking the debutante Season seriously, meeting eligible young men night after night at a variety of wonderful parties. And what was Charlotte doing?
Spending her time with the most unsuitable people like make-up artists, dress designers and hairdressers.
If Liza was worried about Rosie, she was privately far more worried about Charlotte.
In the end Henry decided it was pointless going to Monte Carlo to bring Rosie back. He’d managed to get hold of her on a long-distance telephone call, pleading with her to return to her children, if not Salton, but she was adamant she wouldn’t leave Philibert.
‘Daddy, I’m truly happy for the first time in my whole life. It isn’t only Philibert,’ she assured him. ‘It’s this place. I feel as if I’ve come home and that I belong here. I’m speaking French, which I thought I’d forgotten. I love the people, the weather, the countryside, everything about this place. It’s as if I’m really French at heart. I simply can’t come back to England.’
‘What about Sophia and Jonathan?’ her father asked stiffly. The sadness and hurt he felt was like a physical pain in his chest. There was no doubt that Rosie sounded ecstatic, as if all her dreams had come true, but he couldn’t bear to think of the children, going to bed in tears some nights because she hadn’t returned. ‘You can’t leave the children at Hartley forever, you know.’
‘As soon as I get a divorce, Philibert and I will get married,’ she said confidently. ‘Then we’ll buy a villa out here with a big garden and the children will adore it. Don’t worry, Daddy. Philibert’s aunt is a multi-millionairess, and he’s her only heir. We’re going to be fine. You and Mummy must fly over and meet both Philibert and Lady Fulsham. You’ll love them…’
Rosie prattled on, sounding more and more like Liza; too full of her own thoughts to listen to what anyone else was saying.
‘Everything’s fine at home,’ Rosie assured Philibert blithely, when he emerged from the beige marble bathroom that led off from their bedroom, with a small white towel slung loosely around his hips.
‘Excellent!’ He smiled at her as he let the towel fall to the ground. Then he walked slowly towards where she sat by the phone on the edge of the bed, with the natural animal grace of a panther. As she reached out to touch him, he instantly became aroused, and stooping forward, kissed her on the mouth as if he’d been parted from her for days.
‘Mon chérie…’ he murmured between kisses, ‘look what you do to me?’ He glanced down at himself with a lazy smile. ‘I want you all the time… and I must have you all the time.’
Rosie lay back as he tore open her negligee and made love to her again, as the warm morning sunshine streamed through the window, and outside the blue Mediterranean shimmered like sapphires under a cloudless sky.
‘Juliet!’
She jumped to her feet, her heart lurching nervously, the blood draining momentarily from her head. Then hurrying across the drawing room she came out on to the landing at the top of the stairs, and looked down into the hall.
They were all standing there looking up at her, Daniel with an eager smile and Sarah, Susan and Leo with guarded expressions, each one a replica of their father, with his olive skin, dark hair, black eyes and strong classical features.
‘Hello!’ Juliet called back, clutching the silver banister as she stepped lightly in her high heels down the black carpet. ‘How lovely to see you.’
She stretched out her hand to Sarah first, who shook her hand with polite graveness and penetrating eyes. She was a well-developed sixteen-year-old, a young woman more than a child, and she looked as if she had a mind of her own. Then Susan stepped forward smiling Daniel’s warm smile and Juliet wanted to kiss her on the spot, but knew it was too soon. The fourteen-year-old was adorable, with sparkly eyes and Juliet knew at once they’d get on.
‘How do you do! What are we supposed to call you?’ Susan asked in a gentle voice.
Leo gave Susan a dirty look and nudged her crossly. ‘We’re not going to call her Mother.’
‘Don’t be rude, Leo,’ Daniel said in a firm quiet voice.
‘We’ve already discussed this and Juliet would like you all to call her by her Christian name.’
‘Just… Juliet?’ Susan queried in surprise. ‘Not Aunt Juliet or anything?’
‘Just Juliet,’ Juliet affirmed cheerfully. ‘I was made to call people who weren’t related to me “aunt” or “uncle” when I was young, and I thought it was silly then. It’s so old fashioned, isn’t it?’ Then she turned to Leo, her hand outstretched. ‘How do you do, Leo? It’s very nice to meet you. Why don’t we go upstairs and have tea?’
Dudley, who had been hovering in the background, all agog to see what Daniel’s children were like, nodded to Juliet. ‘I’ll bring it up right away, madam.’
‘Who’s he?’ Leo asked loudly and suspiciously.
‘Dudley looks after this house and everything in it,’ Juliet explained smoothly, catching Daniel’s amused expression. ‘He saved my life during the war with his cooking and cleaning.’
Leo raised his chin arrogantly. ‘Why wasn’t he doing war work?’
‘He used to be in the army as a batman, but he’d retired, so when the Blitz started he became a fire warden, and he looked after this place during the day.’ Juliet suppressed her irritation at constantly having to defend the fact that she had a butler.
Daniel spoke warmly. ‘I don’t know what we’d do without Dudley, he’s worth ten of the others.’
Juliet smiled at him gratefully. It wasn’t so long ago that Dudley had been a source of contention between them.
Sarah looked sharply at her father. ‘How many servants have you got, then?’
He laughed. ‘I lose count!’ he joked. ‘Actually, we only have a cook, and the rest are dailies.’
Sarah tossed her head in silent disapproval.
‘Come and sit down,’ Juliet said, leading the way into the drawing room. She spread her arms wide. ‘Sit anywhere you like.’
Susan stood stock still in the doorway, pushing her long black hair behind her ears as she stared around the room in amazement. The black carpet, white sofas and chairs and art deco furniture, some of it mirrored, seemed to hold her spellbound. Mirrors and vases of white flowers added to the dramatic effect and from the large windows, the view over Hyde Park looked as if they were in the middle of the country.
‘This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen,’ she whispered awestruck. She caught her father’s hand with a sweet childlike gesture. ‘Daddy, isn’t it wonderful?’
‘Juliet designed the whole thing herself,’ he said proudly. ‘In fact, she designed the interior of the whole house herself.’
Susan turned to Juliet. ‘That’s what I’d like to do when I grow up,’ she said shyly.
‘You’ll never be rich enough,’ Leo said scornfully.
‘Why not?’
‘You’d have to get hold of an exceedingly large amount of money to do up a place like this.’
There was a moment’s awkward silence and Juliet sensed Daniel was giving Leo a warning scowl, so she seated herself by a low round tea table which was covered by a white tablecloth and on which Dudley had arranged the tea things.
Juliet spoke lightly. ‘Why don’t you all grab a chair? I always think afternoon tea is the best meal of the day, don’t you? Now, help yourselves. There are cucumber or Patem Perparium sandwiches, biscuits, scones and jam and Dundee cake. Ah! And here’s Dudley with the tea.’
As she spoke, the butler entered with a heavy silver tray, on which was a silver teapot and hot water jug. These he placed deftly in front of Juliet.
‘Tea, everyone?’ she asked brightly, grabbing the teapot and thinking this was indeed going to be a very long weekend.
‘Are you all right, sweetheart?’ Daniel asked sympathetically as he got into bed beside her that night.
Juliet chuckled. ‘I’m fine,’ she assured him. ‘I think it’s going to be all right, don’t you? Sarah seemed to relent towards me a bit when she realized I’d given her the best spare room, and Susan is a little angel, isn’t she? I adore her, Daniel, and we’re getting on fine.’
Daniel had wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
‘She’s always been the easiest of the three, and she loves Tristan already, which is great. I was afraid there might be some jealousy there, but they all seemed to take to him, didn’t they?’
She snuggled her head into the curve of his neck. ‘I think everyone loves a baby who just lies there gurgling with happiness, don’t you? Leo is the one I’m worried about.’
‘Sons are always protective of their mothers, darling. He may be afraid of appearing to desert Ruth, for you. He may be feeling guilty because he actually likes you.’
‘You can see he’s resentful at my having money though, can’t you?’ She moved restlessly in the bed. ‘At times I honestly feel Cameron’s settlement has been more of a curse than anything else, and I obviously can’t explain to anyone that the money was more a form of compensation, can I?’
‘Give Leo time, darling. Once he realizes you’re not a rich bitch he’ll come around. The great thing is we’ve got them to agree to come and stay and I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with the girls.’
Juliet reached up and wound her arms around his neck. ‘I so want them to like it here, darling, and to like me. I feel like buying them all lots of lovely presents tomorrow, but I suppose that would be taken as trying to buy their approval, wouldn’t it?’ she asked wistfully.
Daniel smiled at her well-known sense of generosity. ‘It would be all right to buy them maybe one thoughtful present,’ he said carefully. ‘Susan would love you to buy her a book on interior design, for instance. She’s mad about this house. And Sarah…’ He thought for a moment, ‘I’m not sure about Sarah. Girls like her, who are on the cusp of womanhood, can change overnight. She’s too young for make-up, and she might think you were criticizing her clothes if you bought her something to wear; how about giving her a book, too? Maybe a suitable novel? Books always make a safe present. And I’ll take Leo off to the Science Museum and get him a book, too.’
Juliet burst out laughing. ‘Are we making heavy weather of this? Terrified of doing the wrong thing?’
Daniel pulled her closer. ‘Probably, but it’s so nice to have them here and thank you for being so patient, darling.’
Juliet silenced him with a kiss, and they became so engrossed in each other there was no more conversation that night.
‘What sort of books do you like reading, Sarah?’ Juliet asked, as they perused the bookshelves in Hatchards, Piccadilly. ‘Novels or Biographies?’
‘Novels I suppose, as long as they’re not soppy,’ Sarah replied decisively.
‘Have you read Rebecca? Or Jamaica Inn! It has smugglers in it. Daphne du Maurier wrote them before the war and they’re the most marvellous stories.’
Sarah shook her head and asked critically, ‘They’re not about unrequited love, are they?’
Juliet grinned. ‘Definitely not, but what’s wrong with unrequited love in a book? We wouldn’t have had the story of Romeo and Juliet if the ending had been happy.’
Susan started giggling. ‘She’s thinking of Aunt Esther, who’s always going on about what she calls “the love of her life”, but he loved someone else and not her.’ As she spoke she clutched the book on interior design she’d chosen.
Juliet kept her expression non-committal. ‘It’s always sad not to be loved in return,’ she replied carefully, as she busied herself looking at travel books.
‘She drives us all mad, though,’ Sarah agreed. ‘He was younger than her, and Mummy met him once, and described him as a dashing pilot; no wonder he wasn’t interested in Aunt Esther. The book you mentioned about smugglers sounds fun.’
Juliet nodded. ‘Let’s get it then.’
Both Sarah and Leo politely thanked her for ‘a lovely time’ when they said goodbye at the end of their stay, shaking her hand gravely as they’d done when they’d arrived, but Susan reached up and kissed Juliet on the cheek, her pretty face glowing with gratitude.
‘Can we come again, soon?’ she asked with childish simplicity, reminding Juliet of how Louise had been at that age.
‘Of course you can. As often as you like. It’s been wonderful having you here,’ she added with sincerity. It was true. By Saturday evening, after they’d been to the theatre followed by supper at Quo Vadis in Soho, Leo was behaving more like a normal boy of twelve, rather than a hostile teenager, and the girls were laughing as Daniel translated the Italian menu for them.
Juliet gave a deep sigh of relief. The weekend had been a success and now she was determined to build on it. She’d have to go carefully, though. There must never be too great a show of wealth or indulgence, and Daniel must always be the head of the family, even if the wealth wasn’t his. Happily his children had taken to Tristan and had shown no signs of jealousy, and Juliet vowed that there would be no favouritism when they were around. These were her step-children and they would be treated in exactly the same way as her own children.