Winners and Losers (18 page)

She knew that Daniel worked all hours and she considered telling him that he had no need to worry about the loan. She didn't want the money back anyway. If he had rung her himself, she would have told him, but her letters went to Alice, and Daniel wouldn't want her to know he had borrowed money from his sister.

Frances sighed. She wasn't lonely, because there were always guests and staff, and there would be celebrations in the hotel. She had ordered a tree and the girls would decorate it soon. It wasn't quite the same as a family Christmas, though. She sometimes thought wistfully about the Christmases she'd known as a girl when her father was alive and her brothers and sister were still at home.

Frances thought that if Emily hadn't sounded a little evasive when she rang her, she would have gone up to Vanbrough for the celebrations. It might be her last chance to spend Christmas with her sister . . .

No, of course it wouldn't! The doctors had been hopeful that she could go on for some years – if the tumour didn't start growing or the pain didn't get too bad.

What did it matter? Frances felt the black mood descend on her. What did she have to contribute to a family Christmas? She had no children and she had forgotten how to be happy. It was better that she stayed here alone. She would only ruin things for Emily if she went there.

Emily stirred and her hand moved across the bed. She touched a warm body and was instantly awake. Her lips formed a smile as she turned to look at Alan. He was still sleeping, his face looking much younger in repose. She resisted the temptation to stroke his cheek. Better to let him sleep, because, despite being so much better, he still tired easily.

They had made love every night since he came back to her. At first she had been nervous because it was so long since she had experienced physical passion, but Alan had made it easy for her.

‘You are so beautiful, Emily,' he said as he took her in his arms the first time. ‘I've wanted to make love to you for so long – almost since the day I saw you as a young wife and wished it was me standing beside you.'

‘Alan,' she murmured against his lips as they kissed. Her body was thrilling to his touch, all inhibition fled as they came together in a passionate embrace. ‘I never knew you felt like that!'

‘Of course you didn't,' he said, almost indignant. ‘What kind of a man would I be if I had made a pass at Simon's bride? I might have wished I had seen you first, but I knew you wouldn't look at me.'

‘I wish it had been you,' Emily told him softly. ‘Simon never loved me. He couldn't love a woman; it wasn't in his nature.'

‘My poor darling. What a terrible time you must have had. No one could blame you for taking a lover.'

‘Terry was a fireman – and he loved me very much.'

‘But you lost him and you've been alone all this time – but you have me now.'

Emily had found so much pleasure in Alan's arms. It wasn't the same as it had been with Terry. She had been head over heels in love with her fireman – the man she ought to have married – but it was much better than it had ever been with Simon. Alan was a considerate and passionate lover. He took his time, bringing her to a beautiful climax before giving in to his own. Emily was grateful for what he had given her. She hadn't even been aware of her need until she felt the release of pent-up emotions flood her. She was a passionate woman and she had lived too long alone. She knew that she needed the company, the touch of a man, and Alan was such a dear. She loved him even if she perhaps wasn't in love with him.

Alan opened his eyes as she leaned over him. He looked up at her, reaching out to touch her cheek. ‘I love you,' he said. ‘You have made me so happy, Emily. I never expected to feel this way again.'

‘Nor I,' she whispered and bent her head so that their lips were in touching distance. Her soft hair fell forward over her face as she kissed him. ‘This has been a wonderful few days, Alan.'

‘Must it be only a few days?' he asked in a husky voice. ‘We could go anywhere, Emily. You don't have to stay in this great mausoleum, darling. You've kept your word to Vane – but he had no right to ask it of you.'

‘Don't talk – love me!' Emily pressed her naked body against him. He smelled of her, her perfume all over him. She nibbled at his ear, her body arching with pleasure as he began to caress her back. ‘We'll talk later . . .'

Leaving Vanbrough was too difficult a subject to discuss in bed. For now all she wanted was to lose herself in his arms.

‘I wasn't sure you would come.' Sarah's eyes filled with accusation when she opened the door to Connor. ‘It must be a month since you were last here.'

‘We've been busy,' Connor replied. He reached out for her, kissing her neck. ‘I told you when I phoned. We had three singles to get out and we've been working on songs for the album, as well as haring all over the country to gigs and theatres. We've had three local radio interviews and one on the TV – did you see it?'

‘It came on when I was at work. Mum saw it. She said there was some girl who kept making eyes at you and giggling.'

‘She was just one of the presenters. I hardly noticed her, but I could hardly tell her to stop on television, could I?'

‘No, I don't suppose so, but you could have telephoned me more.'

‘I was on the road every day. We do the shows and then go back to the hotel. Mostly I just crash out on the bed as soon as I've eaten.'

‘You've still had time for parties and nightclubs,' Sarah said, sounding sulky. ‘I've seen pictures of you and there was an article in the paper three days ago. It said that you were engaged to that singer . . .'

‘You know that isn't true!' Connor said. ‘The publicity people are always putting rubbish out. We are trying to get noticed, Sarah. Our record sales are going up but we didn't make number one, even though everyone said we would. We stuck at number two for a while and then dropped to five or six. It isn't enough for the record company. They are looking for number one hits and if we don't give them what they want, we shall be out – that's why we have to take all the work we can get. If we do enough gigs, we should build a good fan base even if the records don't quite make it.'

‘I don't see why it matters. You've earned enough to buy us a house – and my father would give you a job with his firm, Connor. If you worked for him, you could be here all the time and we could get married.'

‘I don't want to work for your father,' Connor said. ‘It wouldn't be a good idea, Sarah. I shan't do this for ever – just a couple of years or so. Most groups don't last much longer unless they make it big. We've done well for an unknown band – but we need that number one hit.'

‘You must have earned a lot of money.'

‘Yes, I have,' Connor admitted. ‘Far more than I ever expected, and I've saved most of it, Sarah. When I pack it in we shall have a nice home. You might like a little car for yourself. Why don't you learn to drive? You could get out a bit more then – and it will come in handy when we have a family. I'll pay for the lessons. In another couple of years, I might go into business for myself. Besides, you're only nineteen – too young to get married yet. Your father said June.'

‘I'll be twenty by then. When you asked me to get engaged I didn't think you were going to be away so much . . .'

‘I know it can't be much fun for you. But I haven't asked you to stay home, have I? I want you to have some fun, Sarah.'

‘How long do we have to wait? Couldn't we get married soon and then I could travel with you?'

‘You wouldn't like it. We have to stay at some awful hotels sometimes. Please be patient for a while – your father wanted us to wait and by June I'll know if the records are going to make it . . .'

Connor knew that he couldn't marry until his career was established. The record company had told them it was important that he stay single and apparently available.

‘The girls flock around you because they hope you will notice them,' Connor had been told. ‘Just keep your distance but let them think they have a chance. When you have a string of number one hits you can do what you like, but there is a lot of competition out there, boys. You're popular now but you could go down like a stone if the fans take against you.'

‘I'm engaged to a local girl,' he'd told their manager.

‘Well, just keep it to yourself. You're on the brink, Connor, but you haven't made it big yet. One step out of line and you never will. The Bad Boys will just be also-rans.'

Connor had held his tongue in check, because he knew the others were relying on him. Sometimes when they were staying in some dump, where the plumbing kept him awake half the night, he wondered if this was what he really wanted from life. Sam, Terry, Jack and Ray seemed as if they enjoyed every moment of being on the road, but Connor couldn't help feeling that there was a hefty price to pay for their dash to fame.

‘Let's not argue,' he said now. ‘I've been looking forward to seeing you for weeks, Sarah. I've only got tonight and tomorrow – let's make the most of it while we can.'

He bent his head and kissed her. Sarah leaned into him, her lips soft and willing beneath his. He felt her body melt into him and the fire raged inside him. He wanted her so badly!

‘It's just that it hurts when I read those things . . .'

‘They are nonsense. Remember that I love you, darling,' Connor said, his arms tightening about her. His lips moved at her throat; he bit her gently, feeling as if he were putting his mark on her. ‘I think of you all the time when I'm away and I dream of the time when you will be my wife. Please believe me, Sarah. I don't want the girls that follow us around. Some of the others take their chances, but I don't. You're the only one for me. It's as hard on me as it is on you, darling.'

‘I want to believe you,' Sarah said and clung to him. ‘I wish we could – you know, do it – but if anything happened, my father would kill me.'

‘I could be careful,' Connor said, tempted almost beyond bearing. ‘But maybe it's best we wait – at least for a while. In a few months things could be different. We might be able to marry sooner than we hoped . . .'

Two days later, Connor started the long drive to Liverpool. He would have to travel through the night to get to the theatre in time to set up and practise with the group. He had stayed longer than he ought with Sarah, because she'd cried and clung to him, begging him not to go.

Connor had felt awful. He hated leaving her when it was so obvious that she wasn't happy about the way things were going, but he didn't see what else he could do for the moment. Even if they didn't have the big hits the record company wanted, he was earning a lot of money from the personal appearances. It wouldn't be long before he had a nice nest egg put away. He knew the others were spending their money as fast as they earned it – easy come, easy go – but Connor couldn't believe that this would go on for ever. He wanted to make sure he had something worthwhile when the bubble burst.

He knew that in America the stars of Rock 'n' Roll were earning far more than they did, but you needed to get a record in the top ten charts over there to make that sort of money. Some of the best groups probably earned twenty or thirty thousand a night – perhaps more for all he knew. Maybe they should start asking for more instead of grabbing with both hands every time they were made an offer. He sometimes thought it would be better to get more for one good venue than race all over the place taking all they could get.

He yawned, feeling tired and wishing he were in a warm bed instead of on the road. People saw your name in the papers and imagined it was all glamour and that you earned fabulous amounts, but so far he had found it to be damned hard work! He couldn't grumble at the money, though. He already had more of it than he would have dreamed possible at the start, but if their records went platinum, he would be really rich. He had known what it was like to go out with a shilling in his pocket and the need to be secure was driving him on, even though in his heart he wanted to turn round and drive straight back to Sarah.

Sarah wept for an hour after Connor had gone. She hated it when he left her. She knew her mother was waiting for it all to go wrong, and her friends pitied her. They had been green with envy when they saw the big cross-over diamond ring Connor had given her when they got engaged, but now she saw pity in their eyes when they looked at her.

They all thought that Connor was just stringing her along. She had seen articles about him in the paper, and some of the pictures seemed to suggest that he was with one of the girls who sang on stage with the group at times.

Connor swore that he loved her, though, and most of the time she believed him. It was just that June seemed a long time away and sometimes she wondered if he would simply dump her before their wedding day even arrived.

‘Sarah,' her mother called as she knocked at the door. ‘I've made some cocoa, love. Do you want me to bring it up, or will you come down and get it?'

Sarah wiped her eyes. ‘I'll be down in a minute,' she said.

‘Don't cry, love. It isn't worth it. No man is worth crying for, believe me.'

‘I'm not crying, Mum. I'll be down in a minute.'

Sarah went to the bathroom and washed her face. Connor was worth waiting for, even if it did hurt . . .

‘What is wrong, Alice?' Daniel asked. The children were in bed and they had the big, warm kitchen to themselves. ‘You've been quiet all week – not like yourself at all. What have I done?'

‘Why should you think you've done anything?' Alice said. ‘I'm just tired. Cooking for six isn't easy, you know.'

‘I know, and you cooked mince pies and cakes to give away,' Daniel said. ‘But you've always done that and it never bothered you before.'