Egyptian Honeymoon (15 page)

Forest Lodge was situated above the river below the Cliveden woods. It was a solid Georgian house standing in an acre of grounds, surrounded on three sides by trees; on the fourth smooth lawns sloped down to the water, where there was a boathouse and a landing stage. To one side of the house the ground had been levelled to make a tennis court, on the other there were greenhouses where fruit and hothouse flowers were cultivated; there were two full-time gardeners who also acted as chauffeurs when required. Noelle was familiar with the place since she had spent many weekends there with her family prior to her marriage, but now she was coming to, it as its mistress, and she had wondered anxiously if she was going to be able to cope with such a large establishment. It was very different from the semi-detached villa where she had lived with her family.

It was late in October and the woods were displaying their autumn glory of russet and gold; though not really cold, the atmosphere seemed chilly after the Egyptian sun.

They arrived in the grey dawn after travelling all night, having hired a taxi at the airport. As Steve had been unable to advise his staff of their sudden return, they were not expected. The house was run by a very efficient housekeeper, a Mrs Ingram, whose duties Noelle had no intention of interfering with, and she hoped the good lady would not resent her. She had, on her previous visits, seemed to be an amiable sort of person, totally unlike the Mrs Danvers of fiction, with her fierce hostility to the new bride, but then Steve had not had a former wife with whom she could be compared.

The house was dark and shuttered when Steve sent the front door bell pealing through the hall. He had a latch key, but the door was bolted as well as locked at night. While they waited, with their lug-gage piled on the doorstep, Noelle looked at the strip of silver that was the river gliding by below them, for colour had not yet returned to the earth, and tried to realise it was less than twelve hours since she had stood by a different river. She seemed to have been travelling for ever.

Mrs Ingram drew back the bolts and revealed herself in a flannel dressing gown and curlers. She had known at once who had rung that imperious peal and she was quite used to her master arriving at all hours.

'Eh, I'm sorry, sir,' she said, struggling with a yawn. 'We didn't expect you…'

'I had a sudden call from the office,' Steve explained. 'I couldn't let you know, but you always keep the bedrooms aired.' He was bundling in their cases. 'Take Mrs Prescott up to the master bedroom, and make her comfortable, she needs to sleep. That's her smaller case, if you can manage that.'

'Yes, sir.' Mrs Ingram picked it up. 'Will you be coming up too, sir?'

'Oh, I'll have a nap in the blue guest bedroom. Tell Jones to bring the car round at eight-thirty. I must be in Town before ten.'

'Yes, sir.' Mrs Ingram smiled at Noelle. 'You know the way, madam?'

She was a stout, elderly person, usually garbed in black and dignity. Her dishabille made her seem homely, even motherly. She followed Noelle up the wide staircase, saying:

'You look all in, madam, but I know the master. If business calls he'll not wait for nobody. I suppose there was some crisis in the City?'

Noelle murmured an affirmative, hardly able to keep her eyes open.

'That man's made of steel,' the good lady ran on. 'Travel all night, work all day, and like as not out somewhere this evening, but you, madam, you look frail, he's fair worn you out.'

Noelle knew her looks belied her, she had a wiry strength that had been necessary for her exacting work, but Steve had taxed it sorely, not so much the actual journey but the emotional scene that had preceded it.

She followed Mrs Ingram into the big room overlooking the river, with its deep-piled white carpet, light oak furniture and Regency striped curtains. The housekeeper turned on the electric stove, suggested a bath and went to run it for her in the adjacent bathroom, extracting what was needed from her case. It was very pleasant to be waited upon, Noelle thought dreamily, and Steve would not be coming to disturb her. Refusing an offer of refreshment, she sank down on the big double bed and was almost immediately asleep.

Mrs Ingram drew the curtains against the brightening day, then glanced almost pityingly at the fair head-on the pillows. She had been pleased when her master had decided to get married, it was time he settled down, and the large nurseries at the back of the house were crying out to be filled, the place was built for a family, but she was doubtful about his choice. Noelle looked too delicate to be a good breeder, too fragile to keep pace with her master's imperious demands. He never spared himself and he would expect his wife to live at the same rate as he did. She went out shaking her head to seek Jones the chauffeur-cum-gardener.

Noelle awoke late in the afternoon, and for a moment could not recollect where she was, her gaze wandering around the unfamiliar room, then recollection returned. She was in her new home and lying on the bed she would share with Steve. A quiver of excitement ran along her nerves; at last she was about to begin her married life.

She saw a maid had been in and unpacked for her while she slept, but there were none of Steve's possessions in the room. They must be still in the blue guest room. She got up and dressed in a tweed skirt and sweater; it seemed strange to be wearing warm clothes when in Egypt it would still be broiling. She would ring her mother, she decided, and tell her she was back. She wondered if there were any way by which she could discover how Mary Bates was faring, and whether she was still on the
Serapis
, but she felt unequal to dealing with telecommunications. She had no idea whom she should try to contact. Steve would know, but she was very reluctant to open the subject of the Bates with him, after his display of callousness.

Mrs Ingram met her as she descended the polished wood staircase.

'I hope you feel rested, madam. You would like tea served in the drawing-room?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'The master rang up. He'll be unable to get back tonight.'

Another reprieve—or was it? Hating him, yet she longed for his presence. It was lonely without anyone to talk to, for she dared not be too familiar with the housekeeper.

'Mr Prescott's things haven't been moved from the blue room,' she remarked.

'He gave me no instructions about that, madam. Do you wish me to have them brought into yours?'

Noelle shook her head. 'Better wait for him to tell you.'

'As you say, madam.'

Steve would not be back tonight, but what about tomorrow? Did he intend to go on occupying another room, the one furthest, from hers, incidentally? She thought disconsolately of that huge master bedroom, the vast bed; she would feel lost alone in it, a forsaken lamb on an empty mountainside… well, it was better than being a sacrificial lamb, wasn't it, exposed to Steve's capricious desires, but she no longer found that prospect daunting.

She went into the gracious drawing-room—sitting-room or living-room were much too commonplace descriptions for it. It was as elegantly furnished as many she had seen in stately homes, in white and gilt. The house was centrally heated, but in addition an electric fire burned in the grate below the marble mantelshelf. Noelle sat down on the velvet-covered couch, and a maid wheeled in an afternoon tea trolley, with a single cup and saucer. I'm a grass widow already, she thought wryly, and wondered how she was going to fill her days. What did ladies of leisure do, needlework, shopping, paying calls? One thing stuck out a mile: she was not going to see much of her husband, and she did not know if she were glad or sorry.

Next day her mother came to lunch at her invitation. Her father was at work, Simon at college, but they would all be delighted to come for a weekend soon, Marjorie suggested hopefully. Noelle said she would be delighted, but she didn't know what Steve's plans were. She would have to ask him if he were agreeable.

Her mother said huffily that she thought the mistress of the house should be able to ask whom she pleased, and Noelle admitted that she had not got round to thinking about entertaining yet. Nor had she brought the family any souvenirs from Egypt; Steve had been recalled so suddenly she had not had time.

'Too bad,' Mrs Esmond said indifferently, and plunged into a flood of chatter about her own concerns. They had never been very close and Noelle would not have dreamed of confiding in her any of the things that really mattered to her. She said goodbye to her almost with relief. At least she had not said how much better she had done for herself than if she had married Hugh, but she knew the thought had been in her mind.

There was a stereogram and a television, which would provide entertainment for the evenings. After her mother had gone, Noelle went for a short walk, and when she came in Mrs Ingram said to her:

'You should get a dog, madam. A dog can be famous company.'

Noelle was pleased with the idea, it would be a companion on her walks. She had never had a dog of her own, though the family had had one when she was a schoolgirl. She remembered being broken-hearted when it died of old age.

Steve came back the following evening. Apprised of his coming, Noelle had changed into a black dinner gown and was waiting for him in the drawing-room. She had heard his car arrive and had checked an urge to run to meet him; there was still constraint between them over the Bates incident. He had changed into a dinner jacket when he came to join her, and looked tired, but his face lighted up when he saw her. She had been looking at the objects in the various glass-fronted cabinets, and had found the bronze monkey. She had taken it out and was examining it when Steve came in, trying to disguise the rapid beating of her heart. She made a charming picture standing under one of the wall lights, which turned her bare arms to alabaster, and her hair to a mingling of frost and fire, swathed round her well-shaped head.

He came towards her impetuously and she thought he was going to kiss her, but he halted a few paces from her and his face went blank.

'The ice maiden,' he said sotto voce, with a twist of his thin mouth. 'Well, my dear, getting settled in?'

'Yes, thank you,' she returned primly.

His eyes fell on the monkey. 'What have you got there?'

'A piece out of the cabinet. It's rather… quaint.'

'Not bad,' he observed indifferently. 'I'd forgotten it was there.'

The bronze he had waited seven years to acquire!

Noelle put it back into, the cabinet. She too had caught his fancy, and fired with the desire for possession he had been determined to win her. Now he had done so, he had installed her in his fine house and was content to leave her, forgotten while he followed his own hectic pursuits.

The parlourmaid came to tell them dinner was served. The indoor staff was all female except for the French chef, Andre, and consisted mainly of foreign girls whom Mrs Ingram sought to train in the way they should go. Ilse had a crush on Steve, but he never noticed she was there. She was from Germany.

Over dinner, served at one end of the big mahogany table, Noelle told him she wanted a dog, and asked if he had any objections.

'None at all—it's a good idea. There are several breeders of pedigree animals in the district.'

'I don't want a pedigree one, I want one that nobody else wants.'

He raised his brows. 'A stray?'

'Yes, one that wouldn't otherwise get a good home.'

She thought he would protest that he didn't want a low-bred cur profaning his beautiful home, but he said gently:

'You have a generous nature. We'll go to a dogs' home.'

She had not expected him to accompany her, and she asked when he would be free, he seemed to be so busy.

'I am but I can spare an hour on Sunday morning.' It was then Friday. 'Tomorrow I'll be away all day, there's a new factory site in the Midlands I want to inspect.'

'On a Saturday? Don't you have a holiday?'

He gave her a crooked smile.

'I've just had a holiday, and with a vast network to oversee, I don't take days off.'

'You're heading for a coronary,' she warned.

'How can I when I've no heart?'

A quibble which indicated that some of her shafts had gone home. Noelle felt a momentary compunction, then she remembered Mary Bates lying feverish in her cabin and Steve's callous attitude towards the invalid and her own distress. He
had
no heart.

'Your things are still in the blue room, I believe,' she said abruptly, changing the subject, 'unless you've had them moved.'

Steve's eyes met hers with a quizzical expression.

'I'm staying there for the present. You still look tired, my love, and you found my… er… attentions rather exhausting.'

She blushed, and he laughed derisively.

'Painful memories, eh? Don't worry, my love, they won't be repeated.'

She felt chilled. Did he mean they were to live together as strangers? She in her glass case, he absorbed in his business ventures? Such a prospect seemed unutterably bleak. She stared at her plate, wondering what exactly she did want. A little voice at the back of her brain murmured, 'To be loved.' But that was ridiculous; Steve could not love anyone.

He went on coolly:

'I would like you, however, to assume your social duties. I want to give a dinner party next month, to introduce you to the neighbourhood, and to invite some of my new executives. My secretary is making out a list of names and addresses for you so that you can send out the invitations. I would prefer the envelopes to be hand-written, and of course you must insert the names on the cards in your own fair hand. As for the catering, you must consult Andre and Mrs Ingram. They've organised such functions before.'

He was aloof, withdrawn, quite impersonal.

Noelle said meekly that she would do her best to carry out his wishes, for this was one of his reasons for taking a wife. She would do her best to carry out this duty to make up for having failed in others.

'That's a good girl,' he said absently.

In the drawing-room, while she poured coffee into the exquisite Dresden cups, he exclaimed: