he's decided he wants a new photograph, and he said it has to be done by you.'
'I wish I knew what was going on,' Lee said, feeling frazzled.
'Well, if you take his picture you'll be able to ask him,' Sally said unanswerably.
'All right, but warn him he'll have to hang about. He can try his luck from four o'clock onwards.'
When she'd hung up Lee took out Who's Who, not really expecting to find a talk show host there. But Daniel Raife wasn't just a television celebrity and columnist, it appeared, but a professor of philosophy with a staggering number of degrees. At thirty-seven he'd lived a varied life in which-if his entry could be believed-he'd reluctantly exchanged the life of an academic for the bright lights of the studio.
'Him!' Lee murmured cynically. 'Fame, fortune and getting your own way all the time, but secretly you yearn for the life of the mind. Well, it may fool your public, but you're a fraud, my friend.'
She was rather looking forward to tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWO
From the moment she started work next morning Lee knew that it was going to be a bad day. One of the models was late, one had a head cold, one garment hadn't arrived when she began shooting, two accessories didn't match and the hairdresser and the make-up artist almost came to blows. By three o'clock, when she should have been near the finishing post, she'd barely started.
'All right everybody,' she called. 'Ten-minute break while tempers cool.'
Gillian, her assistant, started going round with cups of coffee. Lee regarded her own reflection wryly. She wore old jeans and a shirt, her hair was drawn well back and held by a ribbon and there was a smudge on her cheek.
Never mind, she thought. At least she looked what she was: a hard-working woman and not a fluffy-headed little thing. She went on into her office, but in the doorway she stopped, riveted by the sight of the most astoundingly lovely young woman she'd ever seen.
The stranger was tall, with a bean-pole figure and fine features. Her hair was a fiery, natural-looking red and her eyes a deep blue. Lee blinked, wondering why her visitor looked familiar. 'Was I expecting another model?' she asked. 'What agency are you from, Miss-?'
'I'm not a model,' the young woman said, smiling. 'I only wish I were. We've met before.'
'Of course we have. I didn't recognize you at first. It was a dark night, and raining-'
'And you were having a shouting match with Dad,' Phoebe said, chuckling.
'Are you really only fifteen?' Lee asked, astonished. Phoebe was made up subtly, with an expert hand, and could have been twenty.
'I'll be sixteen in a couple of months. Mrs Meredith, I've really looked forward to meeting you properly. I've made Sonya tell me all about you.'
'Yes, she said you were interested in clothes.'
Phoebe Raife had a real sense of style. She wore a loose white jersey dress, and around her neck she'd knotted a silk scarf that exactly matched her eyes.
'I'm afraid I'll be about three hours,' Lee went on. 'You'd be better off going away and coming back.'
'But can't we wait if we keep very quiet and stay out of the way?' Phoebe asked anxiously.
Lee chuckled. 'I can imagine what your father would say to that.'
'No? Can you? What would he say?'
Lee whirled to confront the owner of the amused, masculine voice that had come from behind her. She had to look up to see him, and only just recognized her foe of the other night. He was dramatically altered, not only by the fact that he was dry and well groomed, but because his face now bore a pleasant smile.
It was also the face of the retouched photograph, but, again, it was different. That picture had been of a bland, uninteresting boy. This was a man in his late thirties who looked as if he'd survived a battering by the world and come up still smiling.
The reality had everything the picture lacked-life, strength and character, and above all humour. The features were lean, the mouth was generous and firm, the chin resolute to the point of stubbornness. But it was the eyes that held her. They were like lights on a dark night, and they seemed to draw her towards him as though the two of them were connected by wires.
All this flashed through her mind in a second. Outwardly she retained enough composure to observe coolly, 'I think he'd probably say something about fluffy-headed little things with nothing else to think of but clothes.'
He had the grace to blush, but recovered himself quickly. 'I never said it. You imagined the whole thing, honestly.'
'In my daydreaming, you mean,' she said, through twitching lips.
'Mrs Meredith,' he pleaded, 'I throw myself on your mercy. When my daughter saw your card and realised who I'd offended, she threatened me with dire retribution if I didn't put the matter right. If you don't forgive me, she'll never speak to me again.'
'I set it all up,' Phoebe said in delight. 'I told the PR woman that the photographer had to be you.'
'And then she forced me to come early so that she could watch you work,' Daniel said. 'Naturally I warned her that you'd order us straight out…'
He spread his hands in a helpless gesture, and Lee had to smile. She knew that his apparent diffidence was no more than the easiest way of achieving his object, but his object was his daughter's pleasure, and she liked him for it.
'You don't have to go,' she said. 'But I'll be a long time.'
'You're in luck,' Daniel said to his daughter. Then, to Lee, 'We'll tuck ourselves out of sight and you'll never know we're here.'
Phoebe slipped away. Daniel stayed where he was, regarding Lee. 'I apologise, very sincerely,' he said. 'When I learned who you were I saw how idiotic my remarks had been.'
'I had a similar shock,' she admitted. 'I've discovered that you're famous as a champion of women.'
'You mean you hadn't guessed?' he asked outrageously, and they laughed together.
'Why didn't one of you tell me that Phoebe was your daughter?'
He grinned. 'I tried to, but you shut me up, and Phoebe kept quiet because she was enjoying the joke. I hope the insurers have told you that I'm accepting full liability?'
'Yes. In fact I was going to contact you and say that I can't let you do that. You were quite right. I reacted much too late, so half the blame is mine.'
He didn't answer this directly, but said, 'Had you been on a job?'
'Yes.'
'So you were tired from working. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Am I forgiven?'
'Of course-if I am.'
'There's nothing for me to forgive,' he said simply.
'About the insurance-'
'Why don't we talk about that later? You've still got this session to finish, haven't you?'
'Goodness, yes.' With a start Lee realised that while she'd been talking to this man she'd forgotten everything else in the world.
She showed him a couple of chairs by the wall and went back to work. There were no more hold-ups and she was finished by six o'clock.
'OK, that's it,' she cried at last.
Gillian served more coffee. The chief model, a willowy blonde called Roxanne, began to remove her elegant clothes, assisted by Phoebe who was full of eager questions.
Lee remembered herself at exactly the same age, planning her elopement, never dreaming of the bitterness and disillusion that awaited her. Then she looked up and discovered that while she'd been watching Phoebe Daniel had been watching her, a questioning look in his eyes. His lips curved in a slight smile that was full of warmth, and he looked as if he could see right into Lee's heart and understand everything there. The thought made her uneasy, as though he'd invaded her privacy. She went into her office and began to remove the film from the camera.
