‘When you’re feeling up to it, I’m going to drive you to the hospital to have some stitches put in your hand.’
Harriet watched him light a cigarette and insert it carefully in a dark blue cigarette holder.
‘Simon, Noel didn’t force you to come up here?’
He looked mortified. ‘Oh, darling! Do you think I’m that much of a bastard? Borzoi and I broke up just after I saw you last. I’ve been trying to trace you ever since. No-one knew where you were — your old boss, your landlady, even your parents. I didn’t know a thing about the baby until Noel rang me this morning. I was completely poleaxed — half knocked out at finding you, half horror at what you’d been through.’
He took her hands. ‘From now on I’m going to make the decisions, and I’m never going to let you go again.’
At that moment, Cory came into the ambulance, and Harriet was furious to find herself snatching her hands away. He was wearing a battered sheepskin coat over his pink and grey silk shirt, and had to stoop in order to avoid banging his head.
‘Hullo, how are you?’ How austere it sounded, after Simon’s gushing tenderness.
She struggled to sit up. ‘I’m all right. I’m sorry about your watch.’
‘Doesn’t matter at all, you only smashed the glass.’
‘I’m so pleased you w-won the race.’
He smiled briefly. ‘Bloody good, wasn’t it? When you’re feeling stronger, I’ll run you over to the hospital.’
‘I’m taking her to the hospital,’ said Simon in his languid voice, tipping ash from his cigarette on to the floor just by Cory’s feet. The gesture was curiously insolent. ‘And then I thought we’d drive back to your place. I’m quite anxious to see my son.’
Then Noel came into the ambulance. ‘I’m giving Harriet the weekend off, Cory,’ she said. ‘It won’t do Mrs Bottomley any harm to do some work for a change. She can easily take care of the children and William.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ snapped Cory. ‘Harriet’s lost a lot of blood. She’s going stright home to bed after she’s been to hospital.’
‘Cory,’ said Noel patiently, ‘these children haven’t seen each other for absolutely ages. They ought to be on their own together.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Cory brusquely. ‘They’ve got nothing to say to each other. It was all over years ago.’
Harriet took no pleasure that these people were fighting over her. She felt a bit like a hostess with no drink in the house, invaded by a crowd of people. The mixture of heavy scent, antiseptic and French cigarettes was making her dizzy. Noel’s cold yellow eyes were boring into her.
‘I think I’d better go with Simon,’ she said.
Harriet only remembered isolated incidents about the rest of the day. ‘I’ve booked in at a hotel down the valley,’ Simon said as he drove her back from the hospital. He put his hand on her thigh. ‘I hadn’t realized how much I’d want you. I’ve never met anyone who took to sex like you did.’
Harriet felt overwhelmed by a great weariness. She was in no mood for a sexual marathon.
Neither was Simon’s meeting with William the success she had hoped. William, woken from sleep, was red- faced and bad-tempered. Simon, after initial cooings and ravings, had no idea what to do with him. Holding him at arm’s length, like a bomb about to explode, fearful he might be sick over the beautiful fur coat, he handed him back to Harriet almost immediately.
She had fantasized about them meeting for so long, the joy, the incredulity, it was bound to be an anticlimax. Simon couldn’t be expected to be as good with babies as Cory.
She tried to shake off her depression as she threw clothes into a small suitcase, but she was gripped with the same feeling of menace she’d always had when packing to go back to school. She felt rather ashamed that she put in three novels she wanted to read and the remains of the sleeping pills Cory had made her get from the doctor. Sevenoaks and Tadpole sat around looking miserable at the sight of suitcases.
‘I’ll see you both tomorrow,’ she said hopefully.
Just as she was combing her hair in front of the mirror, Cory walked in without knocking.
‘You’re mad to go off with Simon,’ he said harshly, speaking directly to her haggard reflection. ‘He’s a spoilt, corrupt little boy with no guts and no backbone. He’s ditched you once, he’ll ditch you again.’
Harriet put her head in her hands.
‘Don’t bully me,’ she said in real anguish. ‘I’m in such a muddle.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a much gentler voice, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘But just because he’s William’s father, you mustn’t feel you ought to marry him.’
For a second, Harriet leant against him, then she stood up.
‘I’ve got to talk to Simon, and try to sort out what I feel.’
For a minute they stared at each other. Then he buttoned her coat up as if she was a little girl.
‘Be careful,’ he said.
Later, she remembered being impressed by the cool way Simon had written Mr and Mrs Villiers in the hotel visitors’ book, as though he’d done it a hundred times before. He’d booked them into a luxury three-room suite.
He was at his most winning too, remorseful at his previous conduct, gazing into her eyes, telling her how beautiful she had become, beguiling her with bitchy stories about film stars he had met, speaking of his future with her and William. All perfect; yet Harriet had the feeling she’d got onto the wrong bus and was desperately hurtling in a direction she didn’t want to go.
He had changed too. He had all the sheen and glitter of the star now. When he talked to her, she felt he was playing to an audience.
‘I want to know everything that’s happened to you since we split up,’ he said.
But when she started telling him, despite the intent look on his face, she knew his thoughts were miles away, so she changed the subject. ‘It’s wonderful you’ve done so well, Simon.’
He spread his hands out. ‘Just luck, really. I had mild success with a couple of television plays I did, and I made this film abroad; just a small part, but everyone’s raving about the rushes. And in May I’m going to make a film with Noel, with a really meaty part in it. She’s been terribly kind.’
Harriet wondered what form Noel’s kindness had taken.
‘You haven’t been having an affair with her?’ she asked idly.
‘Darling! Be reasonable. She’s old enough to be my mother.’
‘She could hardly be your mother when she was ten.’
‘I wouldn’t even put that past her! Anyway, I don’t go for these busty, earth mother types — I like my women slim. You’ve got the most gorgeous figure since you lost all that weight.’
Harriet smiled, but she found her thoughts wandering back to Cory and how he and Noel were getting on at this moment, and then she realized it hadn’t been the shock of seeing Simon that had made her cut her hand, it must have been the sharp, ignored pain that shot through her when she thought Cory’s horse had fallen in the race.
Simon was still talking about his new film. Concentrate on his beauty, she kept telling herself. He’s far better looking than Cory. The champagne was beginning to make her feel sick.
He got to his feet and came towards her with that sudden seductive smile that he could use as a weapon or a caress. The brilliant blue-green eyes wandered over her body — hard eyes now, endlessly craving distraction. She felt mesmerized like a small bird before a snake.
‘Darling,’ he murmured. ‘It’s stupid to try and communicate with words. Let’s go to bed.’
And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, but it wasn’t the same as before — no turning of the entrails, no weakness at the knees, no black turgid drowning tide of passion.
For a minute she remembered the evening when Cory had kissed her, and she shivered as she re-lived the swooning, helpless ecstasy.
‘No,’ she cried wriggling away. ‘I don’t want to now. You must give me more time.’
Simon’s face darkened. ‘What’s the matter? Gone off me since the old days?’
‘I don’t feel well,’ she whispered. ‘Would you mind if I lay down for a few minutes?’
Now he was all contrition. ‘Darling, why didn’t you tell me?’
Later she was lying in the dark, her head thrashing from side to side in an agony of indecision, when the
