Betrayal (40 page)

'I'm off to Beckett Lodge in the morning,' she called as he pulled on his coat. 'I might not get back until mid-afternoon.'

'Remember it's the Help the Aged Ball and we're on the top table.' 'I'm not likely to forget,' she muttered before sliding gratefully between the dark blue satin sheets and falling asleep.

The alarm woke her at seven and she breakfasted alone. Neal hadn't slept on the couch and he didn't ring to apologise. She wasn't too worried. Perhaps he was feeling more relaxed about their relationship, in which case she too would have more freedom when they weren't together. Freedom that would enable her to see more of her two children.

She asked Mike to buy all the popular newspapers and then read them during the drive home. Toby was on the front pages and there were plenty of stories about his heavy drinking and high-handed dealings with the television company who produced his show. Amazingly there wasn't one mention of Lisa. Not a single article mentioned their marriage. She was relieved, but also puzzled.

'Sorry about your ex,' remarked Mike when she put down the last paper. 'I know he treated you badly but he just wasn't bright enough to cope with it all, was he?'

'I suppose not. He was nice once, when we first met. Do you think his death was an accident?'

'I'm not paid to think! If the press and police say it was an accident then that's fine by me.'

'I'm only worried because it was a very convenient death.' 'Makes everyone's life tidier then, doesn't it? If I were you I'd just be grateful. Going to send flowers?' 'I shouldn't think so.'

'Probably best. Your husband won't want people reminded that you were Toby's first.'

No, she thought, he wouldn't. But was he powerful enough to have stopped all the papers from digging up the dirt on their marriage and divorce? Let alone Jessica who'd once made the headlines herself.

Perhaps he was. The thought wasn't in the least comforting.

Chapter Twenty-Four

In Berkshire the staff were preparing Louise and Ruth's rooms and bustling around cheerfully until Lisa appeared. After that they glided silently round, all cheerfulness gone. Realising it was her presence that ruined their good humour, she reluctantly climbed the stairs to her daughter's room. She was pleasantly surprised to find her sitting with some paper and crayons, and even more surprised when Jessica actually looked up at her for a moment, her eyes lingering longer than usual before darting away.

Janice was doing some sewing and smiled at Lisa. 'I wanted you to see how much she's improving. She likes to sit and draw now, don't you, Jessica?'

Jessica sidled towards the two women. 'Don't you!' she echoed, then took hold of Lisa's hand and tugged her towards the paper. 'You drew that!' she told her mother proudly.

'You did it, darling.',

'You did it,' she repeated. Lisa remembered that the personal pronoun meant nothing to autistic children and Jessica was trying to explain that she herself had done it.

'It's beautiful, Jessica!' Her daughter grabbed the paper and pushed it in Lisa's face. 'Give it to me,' she said clearly and Lisa took it, placing it carefully inside her handbag.

'How about our little cuddle time?' she suggested brightly. The small hands clenched for a moment and then when Lisa sat down, Jessica obediently began to climb on to her lap. Both women held their breath but once she was safely on, Lisa smiled and kissed her fingers before putting them on Jessica's mouth.

This was new, yet the little girl obviously understood the significance because all at once she smiled. At that moment she looked so beautiful and so completely normal that it was unbearable when, within seconds, she reverted to a grizzling, fighting toddler who didn't want any physical contact.

Eventually she calmed down again and the last ten minutes were spent going through the finger-kissing routine again, this time making Jessica laugh aloud as she tried to kiss her own fingers and put them on Lisa's mouth.

When the hour was up she was rewarded with a bowl of her favourite ice cream while Lisa stayed on the settee, exhausted but also elated by what had happened. 'I must ring Mrs Honeywood,' she exclaimed. 'I'm sure this is a breakthrough, although there's still a long way to go.'

'We knew it was going to take months. You should be over the moon to see any improvement so quickly.'

'I am really. It's just that with Alexi growing so fast I suddenly want Jessica to be more normal to keep pace with him.'

'You musn't try and rush her. I'm sorry about Mr Walker,' she added.

'It is sad. I'm staying until after lunch I thought I might take Jessica out for a walk in about half an hour if you'd get her ready.' After checking on Alexi in the nursery, Lisa went to Rebekah's schoolroom and found Mrs Woodward, Rebekah's governess, sitting drinking a cup of tea. 'Where's Rebekah?' she demanded.

'She's… Actually she's being punished. She refused to do her geography and threw her book at me. I'll fetch her for you.'

'Is she in her bedroom?' 'No, she's… '

Lisa had already guessed where Rebekah was and ran on to the landing, wrenching open the door to the cupboard where cleaning materials were stored. It was large, dark and—she imagined—highly popular with spiders. It was an almost catatonic Rebekah whom she led out and held gently against her, waiting for the child to start crying and release some of her terror.

When she realised it was Lisa holding her she sobbed and sobbed, gabbling about spiders and her mother, saying that she was sure they'd all come from that cupboard and were they in her hair? All the time she talked she was brushing at her clothes and her bare legs as though she could feel the creatures on her.

'There's nothing there,' soothed Lisa. 'Come and lie on your bed, and when you're feeling better you can come out for a walk with me. I'm taking Jessica and… '

'I don't want you to leave me!' shouted Rebekah. 'They'll come after me and run all over my bed, just like they did Mummy's.'

'Mummy never had spiders on her bed , Rebekah. You must have had a bad dream without realising it.'

'She did! They were great big tarantulas. They were crawling over everything and she was trying to knock them away, and then I saw… ' She stopped and frowned.

'Saw what?'

'I can't remember! I know I saw something else but whenever I get to that part I can’t remember!' She started crying again.

'Look, wash your face and hands, change into some jeans and we'll go out for that walk. I promise there aren't any tarantulas in this house. As for your governess, she's going today. Why didn't you tell me what she was like?'

'You'd have said it wasn't true, like the spiders. They're just as true as that horrible Mrs Woodward.'

They certainly were to the overwrought Rebekah, Lisa realised as she marched back into the schoolroom and told Mrs Woodward to pack her things. The governess didn't argue and didn't mention a reference. Lisa assumed she'd complain to Neal later but even he wouldn't want to employ such a totally insensitive woman.

Finally she took both children down the back stairs, across the lawn and over the stile into the wooded fields where Ruth liked to ride her horses. Jessica ref used to walk properly, choosing to twist and turn with her hands stretched in front of her, but apart from that she behaved well, making excited noises when a bird caught her eye.

'I thought she was mad,' said Rebekah. 'She isn't though, is she?' 'Not at all. She's afraid of a lot of things and that's stopped her from developing properly.'

'I'm afraid of a lot of things too. Perhaps she'd like me to go and see her when you're not here.'

'She might but she often ignores visitors. She lives in her own world and doesn't want to let other people in.'

'I know how she feels! There are lots of people I don't want in my world. I wish I was autistic.'

'No you don't! Jessica will never be able to go to school or make friends. She won't marry or have a job. She'll never grow up properly.'

'She might. You're trying to help her, aren't you?'

'Even with help, I've got to accept that she has limits. She may learn to mix more but… '

'I'll teach her,' said Rebekah, her own terror forgotten. 'I'll help turn her into a proper little girl but we won't tell Daddy. He'd only stop me, because really and truly he doesn't like Jessica very much, does he?'

'I'm afraid not.'

'He didn't like Mummy either and he doesn't like me. Is it nice to be you and have him loving you such a lot? '

Lisa hesitated. 'Of course it is. We all want to be loved.' 'You often look sad about it.'

'That's because of Jessica, not your father.'

'Louise says he'll tire of you. What will you do then?' This time, Lisa didn't have an answer.

When she rushed into the Chelsea flat at ten to five she was both surprised and pleased to find Neal already there. He was wearing a sports jacket and slacks and she wondered if he'd been to work at all. After last night however she decided not to ask. If he wanted to be secretive about his movements it suited her very well.

'You're late!' he snapped, looking pointedly at the antique clock. 'I don't need three hours to make myself beautiful!'

He raised his eyebrows. 'In a good mood?' 'Why not? '

'I imagined you'd be annoyed at my overnight absence.'

'Not at all. I only hope you managed to get some sleep!' With another cheerful smile she went through to the bedroom. Neal followed her.

'What do you mean by that last remark?' 'Exactly what I said.'

'Are you insinuating that I spent the night with another woman?' 'No! Did you?'

'I did not, but if I had I wouldn't expect you to complain. It isn't as though you're falling over yourself to keep me contented in that area, is it?'

Lisa could feel all her good humour draining away. 'Look, if you're in a bad mood about something please don't take it out on me. I've had a busy but very productive time at home and I'm looking forward to tonight, so could you either talk pleasantly or keep silent?'

He studied her with slight amusement. 'That's how I first remember you. A spirited girl, that's what I thought you were.'

'So I was. Unfortunately life has a way of knocking the spirit out of people.'

'Not entirely, it appears! Why the pleasure over the Ball? Is the Italian going?'

'No, but I've got a super new Victor Edelstein gown that I'm longing to wear.'

He seemed to relax. 'I see. What went so productively at Berkshire?'

'I sacked Mrs Woodward. She'd locked Rebekah up over some childish piece of defiance and was sitting drinking tea when I walked in on her. She'd shut your daughter in the landing cupboard, knowing full well she's terrified of dark places because she loathes spiders.'

'What had she done to be punished like that?'

'I don't think that's important. No child should be shut up in the dark. She's already convinced she saw tarantulas in her mother's room the night Naomi died. Heavens only knows what she'll start imagining if… '

'She what?' Neal's eyes were sharp.

'I've told you before. For some reason she thinks Naomi died because a plague of tarantulas invaded her room. Where they disappeared to even she can't imagine but nothing I say can shake her firm conviction that she saw these horrible hairy things crawling all over the cover of Naomi's bed.'

'You were probably right to sack the woman. Rebekah starts at Heathlands after Easter, I dare say a few weeks off will help her get over her strange ideas. She's always been highly imaginative.'

'She's very affectionate, Neal. If you could find more time… ' 'Is that all that happened?'

'No, for the very first time, Jessica… '

'I thought I'd made it clear to you,' he said slowly, 'that I do not wish to know anything at all about what goes on at your sessions with that child.'

Lisa's head drooped. 'I'm sorry. You asked and I just forgot.'

He tilted her head with his hand. 'Please don't forget again. And while we're on the subject, please don't bore our friends with accounts of her progress either. They may pretend an interest, but I assure you that a half-witted toddler is not gripping conversation.'

'You're determined to be hurtful tonight, aren't you? What's the matter? Has someone upset you or is it just plain ill humour?'

'I'm in a very good humour,' he lied, grateful that she didn't know how he'd spent his day searching for the negative of the photo only to discover more photos, two of them considerably worse than the one he'd already been sent.

'I'd better get changed,' she said shortly. He went back to the dining-room, remembering how Carol had looked last night when he and Bishop had shown her the London apartment from which she would now work and set out details of the agreement. She hadn't been quite so confident any more. He'd be interested to learn how she got on with their friend from New York tonight. From what he remembered of Glen, she'd certainly earn her share of their fee.

When they set off , Neal had to admit that his wife looked stunning. Her gown was of flame-coloured satin with two thin shoulder straps, a tightly ruched bodice, close fitting over the hips then flaring out into a dipping Bo-Peep skirt that was split in the front to open as she walked , showing a tantalising glimpse of long, slender legs. With her dark hair and carefully applied makeup she looked almost exotic in her slender beauty.

Sitting beside her in the car, with the scent of her Dior perfume rising from her warm flesh, he was overwhelmed with desire for her. It was driving him mad this continued desire for possession that, no matter how hard he tried, always ended in disappointment. Even when she faked a response, he knew the deception. More than anything else he wanted to see her writhing with passion beneath him, knowing she was truly his. But even now she was his wife and had given him a son he didn't feel he truly owned her. She was no more his than in the days before they'd become lovers. In fact, he sometimes felt that she was less his because their differences were rapidly becoming more apparent.

As they climbed out of the car and the flashbulbs exploded he knew that there were many men envying him, but couldn't help feeling bitter at the knowledge that they wouldn't if they knew the truth about their relationship and that as a lover he failed to satisfy his young wife.

He still found this hard to understand. At their table tonight there were at least three women whom he knew would willingly go to bed with him, and would undoubtedly have a wonderful time and try to keep the relationship going as long as possible. He knew this because it had always been that way for him. Until now, with his own wife. Lisa put her arm through his and smiled at him. 'I guessed as much. Nearly all the gowns are black, gold or both! That's why I chose this one. You didn't want me to look like everyone else, did you?' she added when he didn't respond.

'No, I certainly didn't. I like you to stand out in a crowd.'

At least she managed to please him in public, she thought with relief. Then they were swept away into a chattering group and she was busy listening to tales of broken marriages, vanishing nannies, unreliable housekeepers, and all the similar difficulties encountered by wealthy women who were too busy to cope with such mundane matters.