The following evening her friends, ecstatic over their reunion, invited her to the home they were sharing again, and toasted her joyfully.
‘We must have a party to celebrate,’ Benedict declared. ‘We’ll have it in the new place, so we can use it as a rehearsal for the big party when we open.’
‘My romantic lover!’ Amanda said, eyeing him cynically.
Meryl laughed. ‘He’s like a kid where parties are concerned.’
The lovers squabbled amiably for a while, then they laughed and fell into each other’s arms. Meryl made an excuse to leave. Their happiness was charming but it emphasised that she was alone here.
As she relaxed on her own sofa later that night she reflected that that was how married people ought to be, sometimes bickering but always loving, and knowing that ultimately they couldn’t bear to be apart.
She wondered what Jarvis was doing this minute. Was he pining for her as Benedict had pined for Amanda? At one time she would have said not, but now she remembered the way he’d kissed her, and a certain note in his voice when he’d said, ‘If you want to know more you’ll have to come back to me.’
Oh, yes, he was missing her all right. Perhaps almost as much as she was missing him!
Once, in another life, she’d promised herself that she would make this man want her. It would serve him right for being so dismissive. Wanting him hadn’t been part of the plan. But she’d been an adolescent in those days-all of three months ago. Now wanting him was her entire life. Wanting, loving, missing, yearning. He’d turned her into another person, an adult, determined to take on her man in the challenge that ended neither in victory or defeat, but in joy.
If only she could go right back to him now! But she was packing up her entire life, and every detail took time. So she forced herself to work thoroughly, not wanting to have to return later.
For the party Benedict designed Meryl a figure-hugging garment in scarlet, made of some silky, clinging material.
‘It’s a bit low in the front,’ she protested. ‘And I won’t be able to wear anything under it. It would show every line.’
‘That’s the idea,’ he assured her. ‘Eroticism with dignity.’
The gorgeous garment made her feel intensely sensual. The woman who wore this dress was trying to tempt a man to remove it. And when she was home again with the awkward, prickly individual who’d claimed a heart no other man had even threatened, she would give him a private showing.
On the big night she worked hard on her appearance, and knew she could rival any model. It was the kind of party that had once filled her life. The lights glittered, the food was excellent, the wine was the best. She arrived to find the place already packed. Benedict and Amanda appeared at her elbow.
‘Bless you darling!’ Amanda said, throwing her arms about Meryl. ‘We owe it all to you. Oh, thank you,
She hugged her friend exuberantly, kissing her on both cheeks. Everyone around them roared delight, so Meryl guessed they all knew the story of how she’d played Cupid.
‘Now me,’ Benedict said, seizing Meryl up into his arms and kissing her heartily on each cheek, then her mouth. ‘It’s all right, Amanda knows she doesn’t have to be jealous.’ He winked at his wife. ‘Not after last night.’
More laughter. Champagne. Music. Dancing.
Some of the guests were journalists from fashion magazines, invited to inspect the new premises. She took them on a tour, proud of the cream and silver salon, the spacious dressing rooms, the fabulous collection behind securely locked doors. Along the centre of the main hall was a large catwalk, big enough to take five models walking side by side. Just now it was being used for dancing.
Meryl danced the night away, enjoying herself but beginning to realise nervously that her dress was even more outrageously daring than she’d guessed. Eventually she found herself dancing with Benedict, who eyed her
‘It’s not holding up as well as I thought,’ he observed, pointing to the offending part. ‘After all this dancing you’re showing more bosom than I meant you to.’
‘
At last she gave up, and stepped off the catwalk, breathless.
‘Meryl, wonderful to see you.’
Everett Hamlin was smiling at her. After the hugs and greetings she said, ‘Is Brenda here, too?’
‘’Course she is. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. We’ve got a friend of yours with us. Sarah Ashton.’
‘Of course, you met her at the wedding.’
‘That’s right. Terrific woman. Really knows her horses. Now where is she?’ He looked around.
‘Don’t worry,’ Meryl said quickly. ‘We’ll find each other. Tell me how you are…’
They drifted away together. In a few moments Meryl had forgotten Sarah. The party was a great success, the perfect rehearsal for the big one, the showing of the collection. As the dawn broke and the last guest had gone, she, Benedict and Amanda, were sitting with their heads together.
Jarvis met Sarah at the airport. ‘Good to have you back, my dear,’ he said, hugging her. ‘Let’s have some tea.’
When they were sitting in a cafe he observed, ‘You were supposed to be staying longer. Couldn’t live without us, I suppose?’
‘After what I saw I wanted to come home as soon as possible,’ she said in a low voice.
‘Sarah, what’s the matter. You look as if you’ve been crying.’
‘Oh, Jarvis, I don’t know how to tell you-it’s so terrible-’
‘What can be that terrible?’ he said, laughing. He was quite unsuspicious.
‘I went to a party in New York. It was given by Benedict Steen in that place she’s bought him. He and Meryl-’
‘Sarah, it’s all right. They’re just friends. She’s explained it all to me.’
In silence Sarah laid two pictures on the table.
The photographer who’d covered the party was good at his job. His work was sharp, with every detail in focus. It was a toss-up which shot was better, the one of Meryl dancing with Benedict, looking up into his face while he laughed down at her, his hand pointing towards her half-revealed breasts, or the one showing the two of them kissing.
‘I see,’ Jarvis said in a colourless voice. ‘I think we should get off home now.’
He rose and walked away. Sarah was a little disappointed that he left the pictures behind, but no matter. They’d served their purpose.
Another fifteen minutes and she would call Jarvis. Another ten minutes. Like a child postponing a treat Meryl watched the clock, counting the seconds until she could allow herself the pleasure.
Their phone calls always had an air of unreality. There was good-humoured banter and an undercurrent of tension, connected with the fierce kiss he’d given her. There had been another one when he saw her off at the airport, but that had been a restrained ‘married’ kiss, suitable for the eyes of strangers. The other had hinted at the passionate unrestraint of lovers, and that was the one she wanted to hurry back to.
Five minutes, four…
The phone rang.
‘Meryl?’
As soon as she heard Jarvis’s voice a smile spread all over her, and it was there in her own voice as she replied. ‘Yes, it’s me.’
But then everything went horribly wrong, as though the world had turned to ice around her, leaving her shivering and disbelieving.
Jarvis’s voice was more hostile than she’d ever heard it. ‘I trusted you. Fool that I was, I trusted you.’
‘Jarvis, what are you-?’
‘Not at first, mind you,’ he went on as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘At first I knew more or less what you were up to, and I wasn’t interested. That was what annoyed you, wasn’t it? A man who wasn’t interested. You can’t stand that. So you set yourself to bring me to heel, just for the pleasure of showing me who had the power.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Benedict Steen. A man you dance with half-naked and kiss in front of all the world. I’ve seen the pictures. Did you think they wouldn’t get back to me?’
