Betrayal (10 page)

'No, babies like to cry. It exercises their lungs. Look, I've got to go. I'll call back tonight, although it might be late. About twelve-thirty or so.'

'I'm usually in bed by eleven.'

'Perhaps you could make tonight an exception?'

She gave him a very straight look. 'I suppose I haven't any choice.' 'What do you mean by that?'

'You own the house, and he who pays the piper… '

'Calls the tune? My dear Lisa, I hope you don't think that… ' 'I'm not stupid, Neal. Naturally I'll wait up for you.'

'Because you want to?'

She gave a slight smile. 'You can't have it all ways. I'll stay up. That's what you wanted, isn't it?' 'Yes, but only if… '

'I'll see you later. Do be quiet, Jessica. This isn't like you.'

It was impossible to give Lisa a kiss when she was holding Jessica up against her face so Neal contented himself with a light touch on the shoulder and a warm smile that vanished when he got into the car and slammed the passenger door shut behind him.

'That bloody child is more trouble than her father! I'm going to start hinting at the possibility of a nanny before long.'

'If you really want Mrs Walker to engage a nanny, you'd better start telling her that you're totally opposed to the entire concept. The way her mind works she'll automatically take the opposite view.'

'When I want your advice I'll ask for it!' he snapped, before closing the glass partition between himself and Bishop. He only wished that he knew what she'd remembered when they were in the kitchen because he couldn't afford to leave any loose ends around. By the time she was his, her past had to be snow-white; not because his contemporaries had high moral standards but because his enemies would be delighted should they stumble across anything offering a chance of blackmail. It was vital that whatever she was hiding was brought out into the open as soon as possible.

When he climbed the stairs to his top floor flat in Kensington he was feeling tense and irritable, and for once neither Kay's culinary nor sexual skills brought him any relief.

When she finally fell asleep he looked at her face and saw the first few wrinkles round the eyes, the creases in the neck, and knew that she was beginning to show her age. Not that he had any particular obsession with youth, on the contrary it was usually callow and unskilled. No, age alone wasn't responsible for his dissatisfaction with his mistress. He no longer wanted her because she wasn't tall, slim, dark and elusive. In other words, she wasn't Lisa.

There had been many Kays over the years. Women in their early thirties with carefully styled blonde hair who were always elegant in their Chanel suits and their Jaeger casuals, and who would probably feel naked without their pearl necklaces and matching earrings. They were all the same. If you closed your eyes they were indistinguishable one from the other. They even talked alike with their crisp vowels and standard expressions of surprise and delight.

It was a pity, he thought, looking down at the blissfully unaware Kay, that he'd suddenly grown out of them. They now bored him almost as much as Naomi. He was sufficiently wealthy and famous to be acceptable everywhere without the help of any of these socialites who'd eased his entry into Henley, Glyndebourne, Wimbledon, shoots and even the Royal Enclosure. Now he was automatically invited in his own right. He'd been both philanthropic and highly reticent about his generosity, so that people accepted him without question.

The result was that he now wanted a woman by his side who would attract attention herself; someone other men wanted. He needed a woman who was different in both looks and personality, and in Lisa he sensed that he'd found her. She was not yet perfect, of course, but he could soon alter her to fit the exact image he had in mind.

Yes, the days of the Kays were over. He was grateful, but that was all. There had never been any question of love or emotional involvement on his side, although naturally he'd pretended that there was, and whilst Lisa aroused a great deal of compassion and protection in him there wasn't any question of love there either.

But there was desire. A stronger, more urgent desire than he'd ever felt for a woman before, and it was proving difficult to wait, to mark time until the perfect moment; but until that moment came he still needed Kay because she was always available and he was a man of strong sexual appetites which she both understood and shared.

Just the same she would have to go, and since she knew rather a lot about him that meant more than simply parting company. It would probably be a job for Bishop, who was practised and proficient in such matters.

Finally, his mind once again back with Lisa, he slept.

'You look wonderful!' enthused Neal as Lisa came slowly down the stairs. She had on a deceptively simple-looking navy wool dress that fitted tightly to the waist before flaring out into a calf-length skirt that was very full and had two shocking pink panels inserted into each side. She wore navy pumps, and her only jewellery was a pair of delicate silver earrings in the shape of tiny butterflies with transparent wings.

'You're sure it's suitable? I wondered if it was too plain.' 'It's perfect. Why are you still wearing your wedding ring?'

'Because as far as I know I'm still married. Besides, it's difficult to get off and it keeps the wolves at bay!'

'I'll keep the wolves at bay. I'd much prefer it if you took it off.' 'Why?'

He smiled. 'I don't usually go round with married women!'

'I hadn't thought of that. Give me a minute, I'll try and get it off with soap. Did you bring your secretary to babysit?'

'She's in the car. Is Jessica settled for the night?'

'As far as I can tell,' she called from the kitchen, struggling to ease Toby's wedding ring off with some Fairy liquid.

'Any luck?' he asked, wandering round the room and examining a half-written letter on the coffee table.

'Yes, it's off. I thought that… Do you mind! You're reading a private letter.'

'Who are you sending it to?'

'You mean to whom am I sending it!' Neal flushed with annoyance and turned away to conceal the fact. 'Actually it's to Stephanie. I thought she ought to know of Jessica's existence. I might not post it, but it was something I needed to write. Look, can we leave a number for the sitter? If Jessica should play up… '

'Of course. I'll write it down on the pad. She should be here in a minute. I came in ahead to make sure you were ready and there weren't any problems.'

Just then Miranda Grant entered. She was small, fair, and in her early forties. An efficient and trustworthy secretary, she'd also raised four children of her own and was delighted to help her employer out. She'd met Naomi several times and didn't blame him for liking the 'company of other women.

'Baby asleep?' she asked cheerfully.

'Yes, but if she should wake and start screaming there's a bottle in the fridge that just needs popping in the microwave. I usually feed her myself but quite honestly she seems to find a bottle easier! If she still screams then put on some classical music, that always shuts her up. We won't be late, will we, Neal?'

'About midnight.'

'Don't worry,' soothed Miranda. 'I can cope with almost anything babies throw at me. You go out and have a good time.'

'I've left supper in the kitchen and the T.V.'s on. I do hope she's good.'

'It doesn't matter if she isn't,' remarked Neal as they walked out of the front door. 'Miranda's only too happy to be helping out. In fact, she'll be in her element if Jessica does wake. She's very maternal.'

'So am I, but I don't find Jessica screaming her head off the most wonderful experience imaginable.’

'May I suggest we don't mention Jessica again until we get back? This is meant to be a change for you. About the other guests: Mr and Mrs Hopcraft are very quiet and not particularly important, but the Erskines are vital to a new contract so it's important that they have a good time.'

'What am I meant to do, dance a tango on the table top?' 'Hardly, he's a very conservative type. Just be nice to him. Use your considerable charm to good effect. He and I have been talking business all day, you're the final step in the game.'

'Really? And while I'm charming Mr Erskine, what will you be doing?'

'Talking to his wife and making sure she's suitable.'

'For whom? Mr Erskine? Or were you thinking of trying her out yourself?'

'Joke now by all means but please don't be flippant during dinner. If they'd wanted cheap entertainment they could have watched a game show.'

Stunned, she turned her head away and looked out of the window. All at once the excited anticipation drained away and she wished she was back in her own home, watching television and knitting a jacket for Jessica. Perhaps it was boring, and possibly she was finding life dull, but she didn't need any instructions on how to behave at a dinner. How old did he think she was for God's sake, fifteen?'

'Here we are!' he said cheerfully, trying to ignore her sudden silence. 'You'll enjoy the food.'

'Better than the company by the sound of it!' she retorted. Mike—who was driving them that evening—had difficulty in hiding his smile as he held the door open for them both. She might have taken the bait but she wasn't going to be easy to land, he thought with amusement.

In fact the dinner went off perfectly. After a couple of glasses of wine, Lisa found herself enjoying meeting people again, and James Erskine was an elderly man of great olde worlde charm who was a pleasure to talk to. By contrast, George Hopcraft talked too loudly and even told a joke that Neal made plain wasn't acceptable in mixed company. This quieted him down, but since he wasn't important, Lisa was able to ignore his occasional double-entendres and concentrate on James Erskine.

They lingered over their coffee and brandies and she was astounded when Neal said it was two a.m. The Erskines invited Neal and Lisa to visit them in America if they were ever there and Neal accepted on their behalf, then George Hopcraft—who'd drunk a great deal and was feeling left out—asked if Naomi was keeping well. An awkward silence fell.

'Extremely well,' said Neal crisply. 'She still can't go out very much but she's considerably improved. Your concern is most touching,' he added in an aside that made Mrs Hopcraft flinch. George merely laughed and said that in that case America would presumably be too far for her to go.

For a moment Lisa felt awkward. Obviously the Erskines knew about Naomi, yet they'd invited her. This could only mean they imagined she and Neal were lovers. She supposed it was a reasonable assumption, especially since she'd removed her wedding ring, but she didn't like it.

James and Felicity departed, still smiling and friendly, and then it was time for George and his wife to climb in a taxi and go on their way. 'Ignorant fool!' snapped Neal. 'He scarcely knows Naomi.'

'I think he wanted to make us feel uncomfortable.'

'You perhaps, he'd know better than to imagine he'd distress me. I can't think what possessed him.'

'He probably felt the Erskines had monopolised the evening.'

'So I should hope. He and his singularly boring wife were only there to make up the numbers. Was he drinking heavily?'

Lisa laughed. 'That depends on what yardstick you use. Not by Toby's standards, but it did seem to be affecting him as the evening went on.'

'Let's forget them,' said Neal with a smile. 'You were wonderful! Did you enjoy it?'

'Yes, it was good fun. I'd expected there to be more business talk.' "Not in front of the ladies!'

'Why's that?'

'Far too boring. Here's Mike with the car. He's always prompt.' 'You mean you knew all along how late we'd be?'

'I run my life by the clock, Lisa.'

'Then why tell the babysitter we'd be home by midnight?'

He coughed apologetically. 'That was for your benefit. Miranda knew how late we'd be, but I was worried you'd refuse to leave if I said three in the morning.'

'I don't like people lying to me,' said Lisa indignantly as she climbed into the back of the Daimler.

'That's understandable. I wouldn't have to lie if you weren't quite so neurotically possessive about that daughter of yours.'

'I thought we weren't meant to talk about her until I got home?' 'Touché! So, you enjoyed yourself?' He moved close to Lisa's side, putting one arm round her shoulders. 'Yes. Is this the way back?'

'It's the scenic route! What perfume are you wearing? I noticed it earlier.'

'Ma Griffe—Toby gave it to me early on, when he was still being nice!'

Neal gently pressed her head down on to his shoulder and stroked her hair. 'You make most men want to be nice to you, Lisa.'

'I haven't noticed!'

'Toby isn't typical of most men.'

'Sabrina said that all men were totally unreliable.' 'She sounds like a feminist to me.'

Lisa pulled herself upright. 'That's typical of a man. If you don't agree with something a woman says you claim she's a feminist, but what you really mean is that she's a closet lesbian.'

'My dear girl, that's totally untrue.'

'Don't patronise me. I'm not your dear girl and it is true.'