dining with friends of my father’s. Shouldn’t keep that generation waiting.’
Kit was eating potato crisps. ‘My advice,’ he said, ‘is to treat her as you would a nasty boy of ten.’
Cory came in and poured himself a drink. He looked absolutely exhausted.
‘How’s the script going?’ asked Kit.
Cory shrugged his shoulders.
‘So so. I spent today crossing out most of what I wrote yesterday. I suppose it’s good for the wrist.’
‘What’s good for the wrist?’ came a mocking voice, and Noel walked in.
Harriet heard Cory’s sharp intake of breath. Ronnie choked over his cigar.
‘Christ!’ said Kit.
Noel was wearing a transparent black dress. Only her hips were concealed by a thin layer of ostrich feathers. The rest of her body, including the magnificent breasts, gleamed pearly white through the thin, black material. Her blonde hair was piled up on top of her head, diamonds glittering round her throat, in her ears, on her wrists. She looked staggering.
Kit was the first to recover.
‘You look just like a picture I saw outside Raymond’s Revue Bar the other day. I didn’t know you’d gone into cabaret,’ he said.
Ronnie Acland looked dazed. ‘Very simple friends of my father’s we’re going to see, Noel, darling. Is it quite the thing, do you think?’ Noel just shrugged.
Kit poured himself another drink. ‘I shouldn’t worry, Ronnie,’ he said. ‘That generation expect actresses to look unbelievably tarty.’
Noel’s lips tightened. ‘Go and fetch my coat, would you, Ronnie?’
She turned to Cory, who was still standing as if turned to stone.
‘What do you think of me, my darling?’ she said softly.
Cory walked over and stood in front of her, looking her over very slowly. His hands were clenched, a muscle was leaping in his cheek. Only the ticking of the grandfather clock broke the intolerable silence. Then he put out his hand. ‘Goodbye, Noel,’ he said.
‘You don’t really mean that,’ she said slowly, her yellow eyes blazing.
‘Yes, I do, I do, I do,’ he said wearily, as though he was trying to convince himself.
‘Come on, darling,’ said Ronnie Acland, bustling in and knocking over a small table in his haste to get something more substantial round Noel’s body. ‘We’re embarrassingly late as it is.’
In the hall, Jonah’s face was putty-coloured, the tears kept well back. Chattie, in a scarlet dressing gown, had no such reserve. ‘Please don’t go, Mummy!’ she cried, flinging her arms round Noel’s legs and bursting into tears.
‘I must go,’ said Noel, detaching herself gently. ‘Careful, or you’ll ladder my tights.’
‘Oh, Mummy, Mummy,’ whispered the choked little voice. ‘I can’t bear it. When will you come back?’
‘I can’t say, bebe. You must make the best of it.’
She didn’t say another word to Cory, but as she climbed into the huge Rolls-Royce, she turned to Harriet. ‘Goodbye, I’ll certainly tell Simon I’ve seen you.’
Chattie began to howl in earnest as soon as Noel had gone.
‘Hush darling,’ said Harriet, picking her up. ‘You’ll see her again soon.’
Cory went into his study and slammed the door behind him.
I wish I could comfort him as easily as Chattie, thought Harriet.
Kit left soon after Noel. He handed her his telephone number and address in London. ‘If you get into any difficulties, ring me. I’m worried about Cory, but you’re a warm, lovely girl and I’ve a feeling you’re going to be the one to get hurt the most.’
Cory refused any supper, and Harriet, feeling exhausted, went to bed early, but found she couldn’t sleep. She tried to work out exactly what she felt about Simon. But he seemed to have become a shadowy figure, and her thoughts kept straying back to Cory, and the hell he must be going through.
Oh, why can’t I fall for straightforward men who fall in love with me, she thought miserably.
About midnight, the storm broke. Lightning brighter than day, followed immediately by great poundings of thunder. Wandering down the landing to see if the children were all right, Harriet heard the sound of crying coming from Jonah’s room. She went in and turned on the light.
‘It’s only thunder, darling,’ she said taking him in her arms. He was such a reserved child that it took several minutes before she discovered it wasn’t the storm that was upsetting him. He was sick with misery about Noel and Cory.
‘I know it’s beastly,’ said Harriet. ‘Of course, it doesn’t matter a scrap about crying. Everyone cries about things like this, and you’ve been terribly brave up till now.’
Jonah gave a sniff. ‘You think so?’
‘Yes, I do. You’re like your father. He’s very brave, too.’
‘Then why does my mother want to marry that awful man? What’s my father done wrong that my mother doesn’t like him any more?’
‘He hasn’t done anything wrong. People just stop loving people sometimes. Like you cooling off people you’ve been very friendly with the term before at school, and now you can’t see what you saw in them.’
Jonah looked dubious. ‘Is it the same?’
‘In a way. It happened to me with William’s father. I loved him so much, but he still stopped loving me. But not because I’d done anything wrong.’
‘
Harriet shook her head.
‘Perhaps you could marry Daddy, like Chattie suggested,’ he added hopefully.
‘He doesn’t want to, and the same thing would probably happen all over again. People should only marry people they love.’
A shadow fell across the bed. Harriet looked up in embarrassment to see Cory standing there.
‘Hullo,’ said Jonah.
‘I’ll go and get some hot chocolate to make you sleep,’ said Harriet, fleeing from the room. When she got back upstairs, Jonah was nearly asleep.
‘Don’t go,’ he muttered drowsily. ‘Both stay, Harriet’s not very happy either, Daddy. I think you should look after her.’
Harriet suddenly felt the tears trickling down her cheeks. She sat down on the bed, and turned her face away so Jonah shouldn’t see her. Then she felt Cory’s hand, warm and dry, over hers.
She didn’t move, breathlessly aware of how close he was to her. And she was filled with a brazen, shameless longing to be closer still. She looked away, dumb and stricken, afraid that he might read the lust in her eyes.
‘He’s asleep,’ said Cory.
Harriet got clumsily to her feet and, without speaking, went out of the room. Cory caught up with her outside his bedroom, put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her round to face him. The light from the bedroom lit up his face, and Harriet noticed how old and tired he looked suddenly.
Oh, poor, poor Cory, she thought.
‘It’s so bloody for you,’ she said in a choked voice.
‘And for you, too,’ he said gently and, quite naturally he pulled her into his arms.
‘Don’t cry, little Harriet.’
She melted.
‘Don’t cry,’ he went on. ‘It’s crazy to go on like this, when we both need each other. Come on, little one. You’ll see, I’ll make everything all right for you.’
And Harriet knew with a sudden, blinding intensity of grief how much she loved him.
But I can’t take it again, she told herself in panic. It’s no good falling again for a man who doesn’t love me, who this time, is absolutely mad about someone else.
For a second she trembled violently in his arms, then she moved away.
‘It’s no good,’ she gasped, ‘you can’t just take me like aspirin to deaden your pain for a few hours. It’ll come back worse than ever afterwards.’
