THIRTY-SIX
Ellamarie stood in the doorway, looking at Bob. He was sitting in a chair, the odd one that matched nothing else in the room, and now, for the first time, she thought he looked just as out of place. His face was weary, the laughter lines round his eyes drawn as if they were trying to shape his face into that of an old man. Outside, the wind was humming the tune of approaching autumn, and she looked up as a steady beat of rain began to drum against the windows.
Bob buried his head in his hands. Her heart ached and she wanted to go to him. Instead she asked, “Would you like a drink? Some coffee? Something stronger?”
He shook his head, “No, nothing.”
She walked into the room, and sat down on the sofa. As the silence lengthened the feeling of nausea in the pit of her stomach grew. Finally, he lifted his head from his hands and looked at her, but when he didn’t speak she said: “I was worried. I thought you might have called. It doesn’t matter,” she added, hurriedly, “you’re here now, and I can see that you’re all right.”
He got up from his chair. “Look, Ellamarie, we both know why I’m here, so let’s not pretend any more.”
Ellamarie didn’t answer. The cold hand that had been hovering around her heart for days was now beginning to close.
“The truth is, I can’t go on like this. I’ve got to get away. I need some time to think. Some time on my own.”
“I see.”
“For God’s sake, don’t sound like that. Don’t you know how difficult this is already?”
“What am I supposed to say?” she said, knowing that she was speaking to a stranger.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “And that’s the trouble. I don’t know anything any more.”
She had to ask him. “Does that mean that you don’t love me any more?”
“Look, I’ve just said I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t make a decision right now.”
“Have you told your wife?”
“Yes.”
“How did she take it?”
“How do you think she took it?”
Ellamarie turned away. So now she knew what it was like at the end. So often she had wondered, thought about the things he might say, but she had never dreamt that he would hurt her like this. She looked at him, barely hearing his words as they came across the room at her like knives achieving an easy target. His face was anguished as he told her that probably he did still love her, but he loved his wife too. OK, he knew he had lied, but he hadn’t meant to. He didn’t know how any of this had happened, but it had, and now he was sorry he was hurting her. He’d do anything he could to make it up to her. She could still play the pan of the Queen in the Famous Tragedy, they’d shoot round her pregnancy if it showed. And then she’d have the baby, and he’d give her money to help her look after it. But the way things were right now, he just had to get away.
Ellamarie stood up, swallowing hard against the pain that was threatening to engulf her. She moved around the room, not knowing where she was going or why, she just knew she had to move. Her fingers were trembling, clutching her throat.
“Your things,” she said finally. “Shall I help you to pack? I’ve got most of it ready.” She smiled at him, and the barrier he’d carefully tried to hold in place fell completely.
“Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop behaving like this. Why don’t you cry? Stamp, shout, say something, but stop being so bloody noble.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she answered, her voice barely audible. “You see, I love you, Bob.”
“For Christ’s sake,” he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I’m only going to spend some time on my own. The way you’re behaving anyone would think I was running out and deserting you.”
“Aren’t you?”
The blow to her cheek stunned them both. After a long moment she looked up into his eyes and saw that he was crying. She reached out for him, trying to take him in her arms, but he turned away. “Please, I don’t want you to touch me.” He walked away from her and stood in front of the fireplace, his hands pressed against the shelf, looking down into the ashes.
“You don’t have to hurt me like this,” she said, her voice shaking.
His face was stricken as he turned to her, but the phone rang at that moment preventing him from speaking. Ellamarie went to answer it. It was Kate.
As she listened while Kate told her that it was all over between her and Nick, Ellamarie watched Bob pace the room. It didn’t occur to her to end the telephone call, she had been too long a source of support and strength to her friends when they needed it. Once or twice Bob glanced up, as if he were waiting for her to finish. She looked back at him, barely listening to what Kate was saying. Her cheek still stung from the blow and unconsciously she was stroking it with her fingers. Suddenly he stopped pacing and turned to look at her. His face was a mask, and the eyes that had always looked at her with laughter and love were steely. He bent to pick up his coat. He didn’t look at her again, but walked past her and out through the door.
By the time Kate rang off the pain had become so intense it was threatening to choke her. She didn’t know what she had said to Kate. She looked across the room to the door. In the end, he had walked away. Quietly, with no backward glance, he had detached himself from her life. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Normally Ashley walked to work, the brief half-hour alone in the mornings gave her time to think without interruption. But this morning, overwhelmed by lack of sleep, she flagged a passing taxi and collapsed into the back seat.
Her eyes were sore, and she rubbed her fingers against them. Her mind started to spin again. She had returned home in the early hours of the morning, after sitting up half the night with Nick in his room at the Waldorf. She couldn’t think about that now, she didn’t want to think about it ever. A bitter clench of nausea gripped at her stomach. She tried to shake it off, but it persisted.
She knew it wasn’t just the conversation that she had had with Nick, though God, that was bad enough.
Alex had been irritable when she’d left that morning, and Keith’s mood had only got worse since the scene they had had on Monday evening. She was tempted to go back home again, but looking at her watch she knew that she didn’t have time. They would be leaving for Boston about now, where they were spending the night with some distant relatives of Keith. Besides, Conrad had asked to see her at eleven thirty; he would know the results of yesterday’s meeting with David Burgess.
It was eleven o’clock when she walked into the IBM building. She knew she must try to reach Kate. She closed her eyes as she thought of her friend, and wondered what the hell she was going to do. But it couldn’t be true, no matter what Nick thought he had seen, it just simply couldn’t be true. She had to speak to Kate. She had no idea what she was going to say, but she had to find out the truth for herself.
As she walked into her office she told Jan that she was not to be disturbed and, closing the door behind her, she went straight to the telephone.
There was no reply from Kate’s flat. She let it ring and ring, willing Kate to answer, but it was no use. She didn’t want to ring her at her parents’ home, but there seemed no other way.
Kate’s mother answered the phone and Ashley apologised for ringing so early in the morning, but Kate wasn’t there either.
Replacing the receiver, Ashley buried her face in her hands. She must think. There must be something she could do. Did she dare tell Jenneen or Ellamarie? Nick had told her in confidence. But, Jesus Christ, they had to trust one another; if they didn’t, then it would be the end.
She picked up the phone again. She was aware that her voice was shaking as she told Jenneen all she knew. Jenneen was every bit as horrified as Ashley had been. “But it’s not true, Ash,” she said, when Ashley had finished, “you know it’s not true.”
“I hope you’re right, Jenn.”
“Jesus Christ, it can’t be. I must see her.”
“She’s not at home. I’ve tried.”
“Leave it with me,” Jenneen said. “I’ll find her.”
Ashley heaved a sigh of relief as she hung up. There was nothing more she could do, except pray that Jenneen was right, and that it wasn’t true.
She buzzed through to Jan to bring her some coffee, wishing that the feeling of impending disaster would go away. She rang her apartment. There was no reply; she hadn’t really expected one.
Jan came in with her coffee. “You’ve been summoned.”
“Already?” said Ashley, looking at her watch. “Christ, it’s twenty to twelve. Why didn’t you remind me?”
“You asked not to be disturbed.” And then, looking a little sheepish, Jan said, “Sorry, I forgot.”
“Don’t worry,” Ashley smiled. She took several mouthfuls of coffee. “Oh well, here goes,” she said, “Mohammed to the Mountain again. Wish me luck, otherwise you might have a new boss before the week’s out.”
“Good luck,” said Jan. “And I don’t think so somehow.”
“He’s waiting for you,” said Candice, as Ashley walked into the outer office of the Chairman’s suite.
“What kind of mood is he in?”
Candice pulled a face.
“Oh God,” Ashley groaned. She knocked on Conrad’s door and let herself in, closing the door behind her.
Conrad looked up from his desk. “Come and sit down,” he said, waving her to the chair at the other side of his desk, and then turned his attention back to what he had been doing before she’d come in.
She sat down in the chair, and gazed out of the window. It was several minutes before she realised that he was watching her. “You’re looking a bit pale.” he said.
“I had a bad night, I’m afraid.”
“Worrying over the account?”
“Partly.”
Conrad smiled, and looking into his face Ashley felt her heart turn over. He was so strong, always in control, and she wondered what it would be like if she could turn to him at times like this, when she was feeling so bloody vulnerable and confused. His hands were resting on the desk in front of him, strong, capable hands, that had held her only once. If only she could reach out and touch them now, and draw some of their strength into her bones. She pushed the thought away quickly. It was because she was tired, she told herself. Conrad was watching her, and for one uneasy moment she thought he might have read her mind.
“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him, “to Mercer Burgess.”
Ashley felt her stomach begin to chum. She smiled. “To Mercer Burgess,” she repeated, in a quiet but steady voice.
“I spoke with David Burgess early this morning, and he’s given me his decision.”
Ashley looked into his face, but as ever, it was inscrutable.
“I’m afraid,” said Conrad, “that your pitch was not successful. They have turned it down.”
“What!” Ashley gasped.
“The decision was made late last night, as far as I’m aware.”
Ashley couldn’t speak. Her eyes began to dart about the room. This was impossible, she had been so sure they were going to accept. David Burgess had more or less told her so when they’d shown him the video at their meeting yesterday morning. They couldn’t have turned it down. But Conrad wouldn’t lie about something like that. Jesus Christ, it was as important to him as it was to her.
She looked back at him. “I see,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
Her jaw was tight as she said: “Yes, I’m sure you are.”
He got up and started to walk round the desk.
She leapt to her feet. “Well, let’s make this quick, shall we? I’ll go and collect my things together now. I can be out of my office by the end of the day, although I can’t promise to be out of New York quite so quickly. Would the end of the week be acceptable to you?” She was already walking towards the door.
“Ashley, come and sit down.”
She turned back to face him, her eyes blazing. “Conrad, really, I’d rather not go over this. You made it perfectly clear when all this started, that if the presentation did not win through then you wanted me on the next plane back to London. Well, you’ve got your wish. I’m sorry that Mercer Burgess did not take us on, but I rather think that in the end that had nothing to do with whether or not I stayed. Now, if you will excuse me . . .”
“Sit down!” He barked rather than spoke the words.
She stopped with her hand resting on the door handle.
“Please,” he said. He leaned across the desk and buzzed through to Candice. “We’ll have coffee now, Candice.”
Ashley took a few steps away from the door. For the moment she was too angry to realise how hurt and disappointed she was. Or to admit how it was going to wrench at her heart to leave him, knowing that that was all he had wanted, almost from the very start. That she should go.
“I think I owe you an explanation,” he said, turning away from the desk. “I’d like you to stay and listen. Better still, it might help me a little if you were sitting down and not standing there looking like a bull getting ready to charge.”
Candice came in with the coffee and put the tray on Conrad’s desk. Ashley waited, tapping her foot, as Candice poured the coffee. She didn’t even manage to muster a smile when Candice handed her a cup as she left the office.
“Well,” said Ashley, “Let’s get it over with.”
“Ah, where to begin?” Conrad perched himself on the edge of his desk and sipped his coffee. Ashley watched him, but made no attempt to drink hers.
“I suppose,” he began, “that it all starts with Candida really.” He noticed how Ashley’s face darkened at the mention of Candida’s name and he couldn’t resist allowing himself a quick smile. “Unfortunately, when Candy discovered that you were coming to New York, she flew into what you English might call a fit of the pique.”
“Why on earth should she do that?”
Conrad shrugged. “What Candy does, Candy does for reasons best known to herself. But take it from me, she was not at all impressed by the idea of your coming here. In fact, I think I can go as far as to say, she was furious. And when Candida Rayne is furious, the whole of New York has to know about it. In this case, the victim of her fury was you. But not only you. She was furious with me too. And there is something you should know about Candy. There are very few people in this town who can afford to get on the wrong side of her, me included. So, I had to think of something, that, shall we say, would get us, and by us I mean Frazier, Nelmes, out of a situation where she might want to exercise her power over us.” And watching him sitting there, that arrogant smile on his face that she had hated and then loved, and now hated again, she felt the beginnings of a volcanic rage. She hated him for telling her about Candida. She hated him for wanting her to return to London. She hated him for smiling at her that way. And she hated him most of all for not knowing how much she loved him.
She took a deep breath, and with her head on one side, and her teeth clenched against her rising anger, she said: “So she is the reason, I suppose, that come what may, win or lose with Mercer Burgess, I had to be sent back to London. Candida, Candy,” she almost spat the name, “did not want me here.”
Conrad lifted an eyebrow, and began to smile. Ashley wanted either to cry, or to throw her coffee at him.
“You don’t see at all,” he said. “Did you know that Candy is the granddaughter of David Burgess?”
“Yes,” said Ashley, wishing that he would stop referring to Candida as Candy.
“There are three main accounts that keep this agency afloat,” Conrad continued. “David Burgess happens to be on the board of all three of those companies. Does that help to explain the situation?”
“I don’t think that explains anything,” said Ashley, deliberately being obtuse.
“All right, I’ll spell it out. David Burgess is extremely fond of his granddaughter. If Candy wants, then Candy gets, and David is almost always the one to deliver. If Candy had been so minded, she could have put this entire company in jeopardy. And with you around, she was very nearly so minded.”
Ashley shrugged. “So you’re sending me back to London to save the agency. Thanks for telling me, it helps,” and she turned towards the door.
“I’m not sending you anywhere,” said Conrad. “If you want to go back to London, then I’ll do everything I can to stop you, but in the end it’s your decision.”
Ashley’s hand froze on the door handle. “I beg your pardon?”
“David Burgess has offered you a job with any one of his companies you might choose. I turned the offer down on your behalf, I might add.”
“You did what?” she gasped.
“I said I thought you might wish to stay with Frazier, Nelmes. I hope I was right.”
Ashley was completely at a loss for words.
“You see,” Conrad went on, “the whole thing paid off in the end, as I hoped it would. After you had got such an impressive package together, which I was counting on your doing, I knew that David Burgess would want to meet you. It was the only way of keeping his business, and keeping you in New York too.”
“I’m still not with you,” Ashley said.
“The bottom line is, you impressed the hell out of the old man, and now even though he can’t give us the account this quarter, they are seriously considering it for next quarter, and he wants you to run it. Better still, he wants you to go and work for him, but as I told him, that was out of the question. So now, no matter what Candy has to say about it, you and Frazier, Nelmes are safe. The old man loves you, you’ve got him practically eating out of your hand.”
Ashley’s frown was puzzled. “So, who did get the account?”
“J.S. & A.”
“J.S. & A? But you saw what they were offering.”
“Yes,” said Conrad. “And by the way, it was you who took their file, I’ve since discovered. No, no,” he said, raising his hand as she made to interrupt him, “you didn’t know it. You picked it up with your own things the day you went to see Arthur Fellowman. He wasn’t in the least put out by it, in fact I think he looked on it more as a favour to me that I should see it. Probably trying to stop me from spending any more money than you already had.”
“So are you telling me that I don’t have to go back to London?”
“Not unless you want to.”
She shook her head.
“Good,” he said, sliding a hand into his pocket. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”
“Tell me,” she said, “did you actually mean it when you . . . well, you implied that you actually wanted me to stay?”
“Naturally.”
“Even though we didn’t win the account?”
“It was never that important,” he said. “What was important was that you should be able to stay, and that Candy wouldn’t be in a position to make the agency, or me, suffer for it.”
Ashley swallowed hard. “This is all a little too much for me to take in.”
“Maybe you would like to sit down now?” he suggested.
“No,” she shook her head. “No thank you.” She walked over to his desk and put her cup back on the tray. “One other thing,” she said, after all, she might just as well have it all out in the open now. “I’m curious, but was it Candida who Alex met when you took him riding at the weekend?”
Conrad seemed uncomfortable with the question. “Ah, yes, it was Candy. She arrived unannounced, and with the results of your pitch still not decided I wasn’t in a position to ask her to leave.”
“I see,” was all she said.
He put his cup beside hers on the tray, and then, to her utter confusion, took her hand in his. “You don’t, but I’m not going to explain.” Reaching out for her other hand he added, “I’m glad you want to stay.”
She looked up into his face, and her heart suddenly tightened as she saw the serious look in his dark eyes. He grinned and then, putting his hand behind her head, he pulled her towards him and kissed her full on the mouth.
“Oh,” she said, as he let her go.
“Is that all you’re going to say?”
She realised that once again she was impersonating a goldfish. She gulped and tried to regain control of her mouth. “I can’t think of anything else.”
He laughed. “Did you know that I’ve been in love with you since the very first time I saw you?”
“Oh Conrad, that’s not true, and you know it.”
“If it’s not,” he said, “then it should be,” and pulling himself to his feet he took her face between his hands and looked into her eyes. She looked back at him, not daring to speak for fear that one word would shatter this moment and bring them tumbling back to reality. That any moment she would wake up and find herself back in London. He lowered his head very slowly towards her, his lips parting as he pulled her to him. He pressed his mouth against hers, and as she reached up to put her arms round him he pulled her hard against him.
She clung to him, feeling her body melt against his, wanting to be even closer to him, forgetting everything, knowing only that this was what she wanted, more than anything else in the world, to be here with him like this.
The buzzer on his desk brought them abruptly back to reality. Not letting her go, Conrad leaned over and flicked the switch. “Your car’s out front,” said Candice, and the line went dead.
He turned back to Ashley, and smiled to see the question in her eyes, and the disappointment too. He couldn’t be going out, not now.
“Come along,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
He stopped at the door and turned back to take her in his arms. “Do you seriously think I can wait a moment longer?”
She felt herself begin to shake, and he caught her to him. “Say you’ll come.”
They said very little as they drove. The air between them was charged with a desire that had been suppressed for too long. Occasionally he turned to look at her, but she didn’t dare to look back. She knew if he touched her she might lose control all together. She wanted him so badly, her body ached.
When they pulled up outside his apartment block he tossed the keys to the doorman and ushered her inside.
By the time the elevator reached the ninth floor every inch of her body was on fire for him. He closed his apartment door behind them, and pulled her into the bedroom.
With desperation they tore at one another’s clothes. Naked, she stepped into his arms. He lowered his head to kiss her, moulding her body against his so she could feel the hardness of his thighs against hers, the strength of his arms as they circled her waist, and the thrill of his hands pressing against her buttocks. Then pushing her back onto the bed, for a moment he stood looking down at her. His eyes were like a caress on her skin, and she moaned softly as she felt her body responding. He stepped towards her and her eyes dropped to his penis, pushing up against his belly, achingly swollen, ready to take her. Her eyes flew back to his and she began to tremble as, taking her legs in his hands, he lifted them apart and dropped to his knees in front of her. His tongue was hard and manipulative, making her cry out as she snaked her fingers through his hair. Cupping her breasts roughly in his hands he took her nipples, squeezing and pulling them until they rose like hard beads from her body. And then his mouth was there, kissing them and soothing them with his tongue. She reached down and took his penis in her hand. He gasped then groaned as he felt his control slipping away. And then he was beside her and his fingers were pushing into her, and she thrust her hips towards him. He opened his mouth wide and took hers in a bruising embrace. Catching her savagely about the waist, with one swift move he was inside her. She cried out with a voice she barely recognised as her own as she felt the full depth of his penetration. His passion was violent, and his tongue demanding as he pushed it deep into her mouth. She clutched at his hair, and dug her nails into his back as he ground into her, faster and faster. And beneath him she drove her body to his, meeting him with unleashed urgency. Briefly he raised his head and looked down into her eyes, and then as the seed began to rush from his body he called out her name, and as if from a long way away she heard her own voice, crying out for him, as their bodies burst into waves of the most intense and exquisite pleasure they had ever known.
It was several minutes before either of them had gained enough breath to speak. When she looked into his face she saw that his eyes were tender and he was concerned that he had been too violent, but she only smiled and pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. He laughed then, saying perhaps it was her who had been too violent with him. She sank her teeth into his fingers, making him laugh again, and he rolled over onto his back, pulling her into his arms. Idly he ran his fingers over her skin, pausing at her breasts and teasing her nipples back into the achingly erect buds they had been before. She groaned and turned in his arms, taking the laughter from his face as he saw the dark look in her eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, as he felt himself begin to respond. And this time they were tender and patient, holding one another close, allowing their bodies to speak in a way that words never could.
Later, lying contentedly in his arms and idly running her fingers over his thighs, Ashley sighed and turned to kiss his shoulder. She felt a warm glow ripple softly around her heart as his arms tightened about her, and feeling him looking down at her, she turned to gaze into his face, his lopsided grin appearing more precious to her than she could ever have imagined. “I love you,” she whispered.
“Sure you do,” he said.
She opened her mouth to deliver a hasty retort, but he caught her face in his hands and kissed her. “And I love you,” he said, as he let her go. And then his eyes were teasing again. “Hell, I ought to, you’re the best roll in the hay a man’s ever had.”
She choked.
“Yes?” he said, and she fell against him laughing.
“You know there’s one thing for sure here,” he said, after a few minutes.
“And what would that be?”
“This afternoon beats the pants off the first time we made love. And I didn’t think that was possible.”
She lifted her head from his chest and looked into his face. “What do you mean, the first time?” she asked, finally.
He cupped her face in his hand and ran his thumb along her cheek. “Remember the swimming pool?”
Ashley pushed herself away from him, but before she could speak he had caught her in his arms and planted his mouth very firmly on hers. At that moment the phone started to ring. Swearing under his breath, Conrad reached out and picked it up.
“I’m sorry,” Candice’s voice came over, “but this is important.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“‘Fraid not,” she said.
Conrad sighed and pulled himself up from the bed. “OK, go ahead.”
“Ashley’s maid is here.”
“What does she want?” Conrad turned to look at Ashley, who smiled at him and began to trace tiny patterns across his back.
“She’s brought a note with her, that she found in Ashley’s apartment.”
“What do you mean, a note? What sort of note?”
“Well, it’s from her husband, uh, ex-husband. It says that he has gone back to England, and taken her little boy with him.”
“What!” Conrad almost shouted.
Ashley’s hand stopped on his back. A sixth sense seemed to tell her that this might be something to do with her.
“Does it say anything else?”
“I’m afraid so,” Candice answered. “It says that if she tries to get him back, then, hell look, I’ll read it to you. He says, ‘I told you, Ashley, that you would never have Alex in New York. Now perhaps you will believe me. I have taken him back to England, and if you do anything, and I mean anything, to get him back again, then I will not hesitate, I will kill him, and kill myself too. This time it is not a threat. I told you you would never win. Now perhaps you will believe me.’ He signed himself, your husband, Keith.”
Ashley was watching Conrad’s face, and he was only too aware of her eyes on him. He turned away. “Get on to the airport,” he said to Candice, “book two tickets on the next Concorde out. Or the next flight, whichever gets there first. Send someone round to her apartment,” he glanced at Ashley, “and collect the necessary and have it sent straight over to Kennedy.”
“Right on it,” said Candice, but Conrad had already put the phone down.
“What is it?” said Ashley, her face ashen. The uneasy feeling she had started the day with suddenly hammered against her head.
He put his arms round her, but her body was tense. “Just put your clothes on.”
“No,” she said, “no. What’s happened, Conrad? Tell me. Alex, it’s something to do with Alex, isn’t it? Tell me, please!”
“Sssh,” he tried to soothe her. “Come along now. I’ll tell you on the way to the airport.”
“But where are we going?”
“To London.”
