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Authors: Hilda Pressley

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1970

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BOOK: The Man in Possession
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‘You can either get yourself another car or use the van, just as it suits you, but I

m going down to Surrey for the week-end-myself. That

s why I asked you. I thought we might as well travel down together. I

m sure we can both be spared at the moment, whereas in
a few weeks

time neither of us will be able to get away.

That was true. ‘But won

t Kent be out of your way?


Very little. We could travel down tomorrow afternoon and come back Monday morning. And by the way,

he continued before she could say anything,

ask
Mrs.
Harris if she

ll come in over the week-end and clean up the office after the workmen have left. It would be a good idea, too, to decide where you want things to go and leave some instructions with Andy. You won

t want to come back and find everything in a muddle and in the wrong places.

He nodded and walked away in the manner of one ac
c
ustomed to taking explicit obedience for granted.

‘Yes, sir, certainly, sir,

Julia muttered under her breath.

He was certainly in charge and, if one did not watch out, would also take charge of one

s life. But oddly enough the idea did not so much anger as amuse her.

She telephoned her parents to let them know she would be coining, and at three o

clock the following day Andy knocked on the door of the houseboat to tell her that
Mr.
Leighton was waiting for her at the front of the house. The boy insisted on carrying her small case and putting it in the boot of the car. Roger opened the door at the passenger side for her without getting out and they set off towards Norwich.

‘I

m picking up another pa
s
senger,

he told her. ‘Somebody who works in the oil company.

‘Going all the way, you mean?

He nodded. ‘Hope you don

t mind.

‘Of course not. But would you rather I sat in the back? Then you

ll be able to talk
.’

But he shook his head. ‘It doesn

t matter. Stay where you are
.’

He stopped outside a hotel just inside the city boundary and disappeared into the revolving doors.

Julia did not know whether she was glad or sorry that they were to have the company of another man, but on the whole she thought it just as well. Roger Leighton could be stimulating company, as she had learned, but something had happened since that night they had had dinner together, and at present he wasn

t very communicative at all.

He seemed to be gone for quite a long time, and she feared they would be in trouble for parking over the limit if he did not come soon. But at last he appeared. Greatly to her surprise he was accompanied by a woman—she had taken it for granted that it would be a man. Roger opened one of the rear doors and thrust a case on to the back seat, then helped the woman in. Julia caught a glimpse of someone fashionably dressed and with a certain air
.
The whiff of an elusive perfume came faintly to her nostrils as the woman took her seat. As Roger went round to the other side of the car Julia turned to smile at her, but involuntarily her eyes widened in surprise.

It was the woman whose face he had drawn while doodling and in the photograph she had picked up from the floor of the house.

 

CHAPTER
FOUR

Roger slammed the car door behind him, then half turned in his seat.

‘Julia, this is Miss Celia Palmer. Celia—Miss Barclay, my deputy.

Julia smiled and was about to make some friendly remark, but the other girl took a swift look at her and spoke to Roger.


Your deputy? Really, darling—

Roger pulled the self-starter. ‘Yes, my deputy, Celia
,’
he muttered over his shoulder.

And don

t call me darling.

‘All right, dar—Roger, just as you say,

came the answer.

The car slid away from the kerb. Julia stole a sideways glance at Roger

s face, but it was a mask. Like many men, he was adept at hiding his feelings. Julia was in no doubt whatever that Celia Palmer was more than merely ‘somebody who works in the oil company

. They had once been engaged, she was sure of it. Obviously, the other girl had been so in the habit of calling him darling, she still did so automatically, and though Roger might be angry with her, he must still be in love with her, otherwise why draw her face without realizing he was doing so, and why did he still carry her photograph? Julia also recalled Roger

s frequent absences from the boatyard in the past few days. He had been seeing Celia, of course.

But now the silence in the car was both unnatural and uncomfortable. Julia could stand it no longer, and feeling it was up to her to try to ease the strain, she turned to speak to the other girl.

‘Have you been staying in Norwich long, Miss Palmer?

Celia

s blue eyes widened, almost as though Julia were committing an impertinence by speaking to her.

‘Just a few days,

she answered coolly.


And have you enjoyed it? Julia was nothing if not persevering.

There was a pause. For a minute or two Julia thought Celia was not going to reply at all. But then she said, in a grumbling tone:

‘It

s just about the dreariest place I

ve ever visited in my whole life. And your weather—

This, apparently, had been too disgusting for words. Julia

s lips curved in amusement.

‘Unfortunately, that

s something we can

t do a thing about. But the rain has been pretty widespread throughout the country. As to Norwich being dreary—well, it depends on what kind of entertainment you want. There are plenty of cinemas and theatres, numerous places where you can dine and dance. And in the summer, Norfolk is absolutely delightful.


Really?

came the bored response. Then, as if to cut Julia deliberately out of the conversation:

Roger, you remember my telling you the other evening about old Shaw? Well, I

ve suddenly thought—

She went on to talk shop—Melloid Oil shop. Even though some of it was over Julia

s head, she felt sure it was not of any real importance. Roger made only the briefest comments or replies to what she was saying. Then at a traffic light, he turned and said to her,

‘I

d rather not talk about Melloid Oil, if you don

t mind, Celia, and I shall get all the news while I

m at home.

After this, Celia lapsed into silence, and as Roger barely spoke for the next fifty or sixty miles, it was a most uneasy journey. They stopped at a wayside hotel for tea and as Julia had anticipated, when they came out to resume the journey, Celia announced that she would sit in the front passenger seat, and did so without waiting to hear whether Julia agreed or not.

Julia fervently hoped that they would not have Celia

s company on the return journey and was heartily thankful when Roger stopped the car outside a flat in Croydon and got out to reach for Celia

s suitcase.

Celia stepped slowly out on to the pavement. ‘You

ll come up and have a drink, won

t you, darling?

Julia heard her say.

There was a momentary pause from Roger. ‘I

ll carry up your case for you, but you know I can

t linger. We have a long way to go yet.

He took her arm and they walked towards the house. Celia did not even glance at Julia, who stared after the two, a mixture of feelings. She was not hurt by the other girl

s rudeness, but she did confess to a feeling she could only describe as disappointment that a man like Roger Leighton could ever have been remotely in love with someone so lacking in ordinary good manners.

It seemed quite a long time before Roger re-emerged. ‘Sorry for the delay,

he said as he took his seat behind the wheel once more. ‘I

m afraid it will be dark before I get you home.

‘That

s all right,

she told him, beginning to feel something of a nuisance.

But you needn

t drive me all the way home. You can drop me off at Sevenoaks or Maidstone. I can easily get either a bus or train the rest of the way.


Which is the nearest?

‘Maidstone.

But when they reached Maidstone it was pouring with rain and Roger said he might as well drive her the whole of the way home, brushing all her protestations aside. She gave him route directions as they went along, and as soon as he drew up outside the house, the front door opened.

‘You
will
come in and meet Mother and Father, won

t you?

she asked.


Of course.

As she embraced first her mother, then her father, Julia realized how very homesick she had been. Tears
pricked her eyes and she felt as though she had been absent from home for years. Roger was introduced, and Helen Barclay invited him into the living room.

‘I know you won

t want to be delayed too long,

she said, rather cleverly forestalling him, ‘but do come in and sit down for a few minutes at any rate.

‘Thank you, I will,

Roger answered.

Julia

s mother led the way while her husband took his daughter

s coat and went to hang it up. Julia glanced around the familiar living room with its comfortable chesterfield suite, the white-painted bookshelves crammed with books, the flowers which her mother loved, and the various plants her mother grew herself either from seed or cuttings. It was good to be home.

‘Come and sit here beside the fire,

her mother invited Roger. ‘And perhaps you

d like a glass of sherry.

But Roger declined.

No, no, please don

t trouble,
Mrs.
Barclay. I can only stay a minute, and I

d much rather just sit and talk to you. This is a most pleasant room.

‘It

s comfortable,

Helen Barclay conceded, then went on to ask him about his own home.

‘I don

t live with my parents as Julia does,

he told them, and Julia was not really surprised to learn this. ‘I have my own flat. Or at least, I did. After this week-end I shall let it to the man who has taken my place in the oil company.

This gave Helen Barclay a chance to comment on the change he had made buying a boat-hire business. He smiled, and Julia noticed how more and more relaxed he was becoming.

‘It

s peaceful beyond measure,

he said.

Julia laughed. ‘You won

t find it so very peaceful when the holiday-makers begin to arrive
!’

But she realized that he had meant a different kind of peace than the one she had implied. He gave her a look, but made no answer, and she wondered again what had happened to make him want to change one
kind of life for such a completely different one. Had it been anything to do with Celia?

Further speculation was impossible at that moment. Her father came in with some coffee.

‘I thought you might just have time for a cup before you leave
,’
he said.

Unless, of course, we can prevail upon you to stay and have dinner with us
.’

‘That

s very kind of you, but I

m afraid if I stay to dinner I shall be tempted to linger still longer, and I

ve arranged to meet someone around nine-thirty. But a cup of coffee would be most welcome.

Julia flashed a grateful look at her father. He always knew exactly the right thing to do. Why had it seemed so urgent that she should own the boat-hire business? Why hadn

t she simply come back home? It appeared so absurd, so unnecessary now.

After about another quarter of an hour of pleasant conversation Roger rose to leave.

‘I

m so glad we

ve had the opportunity of meeting you,
Mr.
Leighton,

Helen Barclay said as she shook hands with him. ‘And I hope we shall see you again before long.


Monday morning to be exact,
Mrs.
Barclay
,’
he said smiling.

I

m calling for Julia to take her back to Norfolk, otherwise she might not have come back at all, the comfortable home she has
.’

His joke was well received, at least by Julia

s parents. Julia herself was not quite sure about it. He had sounded almost possessive, and she did not want her mother and father to get a wrong impression of their relationship. As it was, her mother said, ‘We

ll let Julia see you off.

The rain had ceased now, but Roger would not let her come out. They stood in the vestibule for a few minutes, and Julia thanked him for bringing her home.

‘It

s been a pleasure
,’
he answered. ‘You have very nice folks, and it was good to meet them. I don

t know how you can bear to be away for such long periods.

This seemed to her like an accusation, a very justifiable one, but she did not appreciate it coming from him.


It makes coming home all the greater pleasure,

she told him.

And perhaps it will be possible to manage a mid-week visit during the summer. I have my longer holiday during the autumn.

He nodded.

I

ll be here around ten o

clock on Monday morning, then. Make the most of the week-end.

Naturally, when she went back into the house, Roger came under discussion for a few minutes, and equally naturally, her mother went to her room for a little chat just before Julia put out her light.


Well, dear, how are you
really
?

she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking searchingly into her face.

Better than you were?

Julia knew it was no use pretending with her mother. It was not her health which was being enquired about, it was her happiness.


I

m better, Mother, truly.

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