MB-797

REMEMBER THIS STRANGER Kay Thorpe

Julia recovered consciousness after a car accident to discover that she had lost her memory. Not completely-but 'three months had vanished out of her life, and they happened to be the three months she had been married to Ross Mannering. There was no doubt about it, she was indeed Ross’s wife; but all memory of her marriage was obliterated. Amnesia she knew, can sometimes be a defence mechanism, cutting off its victim from something they would rather forget. What was it that Julia subconsciously wanted to forget? Ross was an attractive man, and it was easy to 'believe that she had loved him deeply. Had something happened to damage that love ? Something, for instance, that had involved the glamorous Lou ? ‘

CHAPTER ONE THE blur of light wavered a little and steadied again, began to firm at the edges, and finally resolved itself into a face beneath a starched white cap. An encouraging face, kind, smiling. 'That's right,' said the voice again, closer this time. 'You're going to be fine. Just fine!' Voice and face did not match up. Julia closed her eyes for a second, opened them again and focused on the man in the white coat standing on the other side of the bed. He was small and wiry, his thinning sandy hair brushed carefully over the top of his head. His fingers were on her wrist, his eyes on his watch. He nodded, looked back at her and smiled with an air of satisfaction. 'Well, you've given us a worrying few hours, young woman, but you seem to be doing all right now. We'll have you up and about in no time at all. How do you feel?' 'Peculiar.' It was a whisper, as though the larynx were not yet quite certain of its capabilities. 'I don't think I ...' Her voice tailed off and a small frown creased her forehead. 'Wh-where am I?' 'Otterbridge General,' he returned briskly. 'You were brought here after the accident.' 'The ... accident?' 'You don't remember? Well, that's not unusual in these cases. You had rather a nasty bump on the head.' 'My head?' One hand came slowly up to touch the bandage at her temple, then fell back to her side on the counterpane. 'It does ache a bit.' She still spoke hesitantly, the cotton wool in her mind refusing to disperse with any speed. 'How long have I been here?'

'About seven hours,' he said. 'And I think that's enough talking for the moment, Mrs. Mannering. There will be plenty of time later on when you are rested. Your ...' She wasn't listening. Mrs. Mannering? Who was Mrs. Mannering? There must be some mistake. The fog was lifting a little now, although she still couldn't recall any details of the accident. 'It's Gardner,' she said through a growing awareness of the stiffness in her cheek and jaw. 'Julia Gardner. And I'm Miss, not Mrs.' Doctor and nurse exchanged swift glances before assuming the professional control of their calling. They were quick, but not quite quick enough to conceal disconcertion. To Julia, even in her semidazed state, it was obvious what had happened. There had been an accident involving several people and the identities had become mixed. Her own fault, of course. How many times had her father reminded her to carry some form of identification with her when she went out? Her father. Slowly but surely her mind was beginning to function properly again. Her father had been dead almost two years, having suffered a massive heart attack only a few days after her twenty-first birthday. It had been just the two of them ever since she was twelve. Even two years was not enough to entirely cushion the returning knowledge. 'Don't distress yourself,' said the doctor as the emotions followed each other across her face. 'After several hours in a state of unconsciousness it's only to be expected that it will take a little time to regain full control. Just relax, and everything will fall into place of its own accord.' He nodded to the nurse. 'I'm going to give you something to make you sleep. When you waken up again you'll be feeling a whole lot better.' Julia hoped he was right. She felt pretty groggy right now.

'My face is stiff,' she said slowly. 'Am I... Will I be scarred?' His smile was reassuring. 'No,' he said firmly. 'The stiffness is from the bruising. Bring a mirror, Nurse. This is one matter we can settle here and now.' The mirror was brought and held for her. The face she saw reflected was pale, emphasizing the darkening area spreading from her ear along the line of her jaw on the left-hand side. There was some superficial grazing of the cheek, and a neat white bandage which crossed down over the temple, pushing up the fringe of fair hair. The rest was familiar enough: blue eyes, small straight nose, a mouth which just at the moment looked faintly tremulous and a chin which firmed even as she looked at it. Relieved, despite the doctor's prior assurances, she obediently drank the draught which the nurse had prepared, and subsided into the pillows again. There were a dozen questions she badly wanted to ask, but right now it suddenly seemed too much of an effort. As the doctor had said, there would be plenty of time for everything later on. She lay there quietly and drifted into sleep. Early evening sunlight filled the room when she awoke again, and inevitably there was another brief period of acclimatization. Her eyes had been opened for some seconds before she became aware of another presence. Cautiously turning her head, she saw a man standing in front of the tall window. Not the doctor this time. This one wore a plain grey suit and had thick hair which shone the colour of teak from this angle. Even as she looked at him his head came round in response, and an oddly watchful expression passed across his features. 'Hallo, Julia,' he said quietly.

She stared at him uncertainly. To the best of her knowledge she had never set eyes on him before, and yet he had addressed her in terms of familiarity which left little doubt that he knew her. Not a handsome man, she reflected; the face was too strong for that. Not a gentle one either, if that mouth was anything to go by. There was a look about it of firmness and determination amounting almost to ... ruthlessness. A slight tremor ran through her. 'I'm sorry,' she said hesitantly. 'I can't quite remember ... Am I supposed to know you?' The grey eyes narrowed, and for a long moment he just stood looking at her. 'Can't you remember anything?' he asked at last. 'Not about the accident, if that's what you mean. Were you involved?' 'You might say that.' He sounded strange. 'Oh, then perhaps you can tell me what happened. I haven't had much of a chance to ask anyone here yet.' There was another long pause before he said, 'You fell out of the car. Luckily I was slowing down or you'd almost certainly have been killed.' He was watching her closely. 'It's a new car. You probably meant to open the window and touched the wrong handle. It's been done before.' Perplexity clouded her mind. 'I was in a car with you?' 'Yes.' He seemed to be searching for the right words, although she would not have thought him a man who was often at a loss. 'We were on our way home from a party. It was late, and you were tired. I was ..

'I ... don't understand.' She raised a trembling - hand to brush at lips gone suddenly dry, caught the flash of gold and froze into disbelieving immobility. There was a ring on her third finger, a wide gold band engraved with tiny fleurs-de-lis. She stared at it wideeyed. 'I put that there just over three months ago.' His voice was a little uneven. 'I'm Ross Mannering, Julia. Your husband.' 'No!' The word was a whisper. 'No, you can't be. I - I have no husband.' Her eyes went from the ring to his face, revealing the panic rising inside her. 'I'm Julia Gardner. I've never even seen you before!' 'Gardner was your maiden name,' he said. 'We were married at Caxton Hall and spent our honeymoon in Austria, then we came straight down here to Hampshire. Don't you remember how thrilled you were with the house? Three cottages knocked into one in the middle of nowhere. You said it reminded you of the gingerbread house in Hansel and Gretel - good enough to eat. You even...' 'Stop it!' Her knuckles were pressed to her lips, her eyes closed. 'It's not true! It can't be true! My name is Gardner. I've never been to Austria. What are you trying to do?' 'Steady.' He was there at the bedside, reaching for her hands and enclosing them in his own. 'Take it easy.' He sat down on the edge of the mattress. 'Look at me, Julia. Open your eyes and look at me!' She did so, fighting the desire to snatch her hands from his and scream at him to get away from her. Was it possible to be dreaming all this? she wondered wildly. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't! But even as she thought it she knew it was no dream. He wasn't of the material from which dreams are made. So he was lying. For what reason she couldn't begin to imagine, but he had to be lying. What woman could forget her own husband, her own wedding!

'What date is it?' he asked, and her brow creased in new confusion. Date? What bearing could the date have on this crazy situation? She tried to think. The accident must have happened on her way home from the office yesterday, which had been Friday ... yes, Friday the thirteenth. That certainly wasn't difficult to remember. 'It's the fourteenth,' she said, and saw some unreadable expression leap in his eyes. 'Saturday the fourteenth of June.' He studied her long and hard, and when he spoke again his voice was somehow different.' 'The fourteenth of June was the day after we first met,' he said. 'We both agreed that it was a good thing we were neither of us superstitious.' The pause was brief this time. 'Today is the twentysixth of September.' In the following few seconds the beat of her heart seemed to fill the room. She said huskily, 'I don't believe it.' 'You've got to believe it. Here ...' He released his grasp on one of her hands and reached out to the chair at the side of the bed, picked up a rolled copy of a newspaper and shook it out to show the front page. 'There it is in black and white.' It was, and there was no getting away from it. Her mind whirling, she tried to envisage what it all meant. Somewhere, somehow, she had lost three whole months out of her life. Three months during which she had met and married this man who faced her now. Three months in which they had lived together as man and wife. She looked down dazedly at the hand still loosely holding hers, at the lean fingers with their feel of tensile strength. Man and wife.

He made no attempt to stop her as she drew her hand away and thrust it beneath the covers, and there was no change in his expression apart from a faint contraction of a muscle in his jaw. 'I'm sorry,' she said on a note of desperation. 'I can't ... It isn't easy to realize.' She made a valiant effort to control the trembling of her limbs and bring some sense of order back into her befuddled mind. 'You said we were married more than three months ago. But if we only met on the thirteenth of June...' 'It was what you might call a whirlwind courtship.' He took a stainless steel cigarette case from a pocket and opened it, paused, then snapped it shut again without taking one. 'I was up in town on business and called in at the firm where you worked. There was an office party going on in honour of one of the girls who was leaving to get married. I asked you out to dinner that evening. We were married six days later. The rest I've already told you.' He had, yet there was still no glimmer of recollection. Friday had been an ordinary working day in the offices of the insurance agency where she worked as a secretary. True, she was vague about what time she had left the office last night, but that could be due to the crack on the head. She moved it confusedly on the pillows. Last night - or what seemed like last night - was three months behind her. She must make herself realize that. So start again. An office party for one of the girls leaving to get married, he had said. That meant nothing at all. Two of the girls in the typing pool were engaged, but there had been no talk of marriage in the near future that she knew of, even though they were both saving like mad for a deposit on a house. Were? Had been. Concentrate, she told herself desperately. Concentrate! The opening of the door was a relief. Seeing the doctor again was almost like seeing an old friend. She knew him. Knew who he was — or at least what he was. She saw his eyes go from her face to that of

her companion, sensed the unspoken message which flashed between the two men. Then the former was coming forward to take her wrist and feel for the pulse, his manner brisk and rallying. 'You mustn't let this matter upset you, Mrs. Mannering. Temporary amnesia after a bump on the head is quite common. Sometimes it's only a matter of hours, and then again it has been known to last as long as a couple of days.' 'Are there any who never recover?' she asked tonelessly, and he hesitated. 'Perhaps, but it's very rare. Are you feeling hungry?' 'No,' she replied with truth. 'You will be when you smell your creamed chicken. It's been made specially for you. In a few days you'll be walking out of here as right as rain again, you'll see.' He glanced at the other man. 'I think it might be a good idea if your wife rested now, Mr. Mannering. If you could come back again in the morning.' 'Of course.' He moved to pick up the light raincoat lying over the chair back, and turned back to the bed. His smile held an element of strain. 'We'll sort it out,' he said. 'Don't worry. Good night, Julia.' She stiffened as he bent towards her, but he merely brushed his lips across her cheek and straightened again. The doctor accompanied him out into the corridor, not quite closing the door behind them. She could hear the murmur of voices, found it easy to pick out the one belonging to the man who said he was her husband owing to its depth and pitch. She couldn't hear what was being said, but that was also

easy to guess. She lay there gazing helplessly at the pristine white walls until the doctor came back into the room. 'The important thing,' he said firmly, 'is not to worry. The mind can be awkward that way. Often it refuses to give up a memory until no longer being pressed to do so.' 'This isn't just one memory,' she said. 'It's a whole file. How is it that I can remember the actual day that he said we met, and yet not remember him? It doesn't make sense!' He shook his head. 'That's a question I can't answer, because I don't know the answer - not completely. All we do know is that for the moment your mind refuses to recognize certain interrelated memories.' He paused, smiled and added briskly, 'We must give it a little time. I want you to try to eat something when the nurse brings you your meal, and then she will give you a sedative and settle you down for the night.' He half turned his head to catch the sounds from the corridor. 'Here it comes now, unless I miss my guess. Now, will you promise me to try to relax?' 'Yes.' There was very little else she could say, and nothing at all she could do whilever she lay in this hospital bed. 'When will I be able to get up?' 'Let's not try to run before we can walk. We'll see how you feel in the morning. I'll be in first thing to see you, Mrs. Mannering.' Mrs. Mannering. Mrs. Ross Mannering. She had better start getting used to it, because that was who she was. But she didn't want to be who she was, she thought incoherently. She didn't want to be any woman married to a man so completely and totally a stranger.

The night was restless, the morning darkened by her unrelieved condition. Awake at seven, Julia spent the following couple of hours just lying there wondering what she was going to do. The nursing staff were kindness itself, but there was little they could do to help her in her basic problem. She was on her own. By the time Doctor Stewart arrived at nine she had managed to attain a fair amount of control over her emotions. Hysteria would help no one, least of all herself. She summoned a smile in answer to his greeting, and he nodded his approval. 'That's the spirit! No use in letting things get you down. Let's have a look at that head of yours before we go any further.' The bandage came off easily, and with it the dressing which had covered the site of the blow on her temple. He probed the area gently, pronounced himself satisfied that there was no serious damage and said they would leave off the dressing. 'You'll have a slight scar there for a few weeks,' he added casually. 'Nothing your hair won't cover. How would you like to sit by the window for an hour or two?' 'I'd like it very much,' she said, eager for any kind of change from this bed and her own circling confusion of thought. She paused, and had to force herself to go on. 'What time will Mr. Mannering be here, do you know?' 'He said ten o'clock when he phoned in this morning.' His voice was carefully expressionless. 'I'm sure he'll be very glad to see you up and looking so much better.' He studied her, added gently, 'This can't be all that easy for your husband either, Mrs. Mannering. He must feel that he's up against a blank wall.'

But not half so blank as her own wall, she thought, and felt her hands curl into fists at her sides. 'Do I have to see him alone?' she asked desperately. 'Can't you stay with me?' 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'That wouldn't be wise. He's your husband. There are things you must discuss which concern only the two of you.' His eyes were sympathetic. 'Believe me, I can understand how you feel, but you must try to place your trust in him again. Perhaps when you talk together your memory will start to return.' 'Yes.' She didn't believe it, and was pretty certain that he didn't either. If the amnesia had been purely temporary she would have been back to normal after a night's sleep. But he was right. She must make herself think of Ross Mannering as her husband. She must! When the doctor had gone the nurse helped her out of bed and into a tailored wrap which matched the pale blue nightdress she was wearing. The cut was expensive, the fit perfect. Julia caught a glimpse of the label, and knew she could never have afforded to pay their kind of prices herself. Apart from a certain shakiness in her legs and the ache in her jaw, she felt reasonably fit. She needed to, she thought, watching the hands of the wall clock creep round towards the hour. There were so many things she had to know. The view from the window was uninspiring. A small courtyard two floors below, a high stone wall, and beyond that the roofs of a town, with a church steeple the only point of immediate interest. Otterbridge, Doctor Stewart had called the place, and it was somewhere in Hampshire. That was all she was sure of, and she hesitated to ask the nurse for further details. The fewer people with whom she had to discuss her predicament, the better.

Left on her own for a few minutes, she hitched her chair round to the bedside table locker, feeling almost guilty about it as she opened the top drawer and fingered through the contents. There was a small cosmetic bag containing a lipstick and compact, both of which she recognized, a handbag atomizer holding a perfume which was almost certainly French, and entirely to her taste if not to her pocket as she had known it, a scrap of a handkerchief, neatly laundered and pressed and bearing the initial J in one corner, and a toilet bag. Nothing there to help her either. Nothing which evoked any memory at all of those missing weeks. It was still difficult to believe that this whole situation really existed, yet she had to make herself accept it as fact. The ring on her finger, these things she was wearing, the French perfume, they were all a part of those lost three months. If only she could recall something between that Friday in June and the moment when she had regained consciousness here in this room just over twenty-four hours ago. Anything! The brief tap on the door made her start. She pushed the drawer back into place swiftly, and tried to stem the quivering inside her as Ross Mannering entered the room. She watched him coming towards her, noting the breadth of shoulder beneath the easy-fitting jacket, the controlled economy of movement which bespoke perfect fitness and health. His age was indeterminate. Thirty-four? Thirty-five? She couldn't be sure. 'How do you feel?' he asked from the foot of the bed. 'I see they've taken the bandage off.' 'Yes.' She was at a loss to know what to say to him. What did one say to the man one had lived with and yet failed entirely to recognize? 'Doctor Stewart said there'll be a scar for a time, but nothing my hair won't hide.' Her glance slid away from his. 'Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful.'

'Glad you like them.' He studied her a moment. 'Mind if I sit down?' She looked quickly about the room. 'There doesn't seem to be another chair.' 'I'll make do with the bed edge.' He suited his actions to his words, the movement inevitably bringing him nearer. If he touched her, she thought jerkily, she would scream. And yet he had a perfect right to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her if he wanted to. She had given him that right. She was his wife. Perhaps if she kept on repeating that to herself it would take on some aspect of reality. 'Don't worry,' he said, mouth twisting a little, 'I'm not going to come any nearer than this. We have to talk, Julia.' 'I know.' She made a small helpless gesture and dropped her hands back into her lap again. 'Where do we start?' 'I suppose I'd better tell you about myself.' He paused. 'I'm in the property business, with an office in Southampton. The cottage is about ten miles west of here.' He seemed to be ticking off the items in his mind. 'I've known your former boss, Bill Grieves, for some time, and we usually try to put a little business each other's way when the opportunity arises. That was why I called in at the office that Friday.' That Friday. Julia wished she could make it retreat as far back as he made it sound. Not that it would do her any good unless she could also make the other details fit. 'The party,' she said slowly. 'I don't suppose you can remember the name of the girl who was leaving?' He frowned. 'Now you're asking. I probably heard it when you were all toasting her, but ...' He shook his head. 'Is it important?'

'I don't suppose so. It's just that I can't recall any mention at all of a leaving party for anyone that week.' 'There was some joke being bandied around about Ernie. I gathered the girl — or her fiancé - had come up with a win on the Premium Bonds. Does that help?' 'No,' she acknowledged hopelessly. 'I'm afraid not. I remember it as just an ordinary week.' Her fingers pleating the edge of the blue wrap, she forced herself to ask, 'Why did you marry me?' There was a brief pause before he answered. 'Anything wrong with the usual reason?' 'No, but ...' she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes ... 'you don't act as if you're ... in love with me. 'I don't?' There was a faint edge of irony in his tone. 'Odd, but I was under the impression that any show of emotion on my part was the last thing you wanted. You freeze if I come within three feet of you. If I seem detached it's because I'm doing my level best to cope with a situation any man might find difficult to accept.' 'I'm sorry.' Her voice was unsteady. 'I'm doing my best too. It isn't easy.' He made a small involuntary movement towards her, and visibly checked himself. 'I know it isn't,' he said. 'Go ahead and ask what you want. I'll try to give you an honest answer.' 'All right.' The next question was necessary, but it took all of her control to ask it so bluntly. 'Were we - are we compatible?' He was leaning forward with his elbows resting along his knees and his head down. 'If you mean do we never have any differences of opinion, then the answer is no.' The faintest of smiles came and went.

'We're alike in a lot of ways - neither of us willing to take a back seat. It makes life interesting at times.' Julia could imagine, although interesting was not the adjective she would have applied herself. Since her father's death she had had to be independent. It seemed feasible that she would have resented any attempt on his part to assert his will over her. And yet it must have been apparent when she met him that here was a man who would want to be the dominant partner in any relationship - as apparent as it was now. Or was it that her perception was sharper because it was unclouded by the kind of emotion he must have aroused in her to get her to marry him in such a short time? Had she really loved him, she wondered, or had she been led into believing that she did? She had to admit that he was a man she could very well have found vitally attractive under different circumstances. 'All married couples row from time to time,' he went on. 'And it's always said that the first year is the worst. Two people can't learn to live together overnight.' The smile flickered again, and his head lifted. 'The finest peacemaker is a double bed.' Colour touched her pale cheeks. She said quickly, 'Have you always lived in these parts?' 'No, I'm a Londoner born and bred, just like you.' 'What made you move down here?' 'Various reasons.' The hesitation was so brief it could have been imagination. 'I was in partnership for a couple of years in town, and then decided to branch out on my own. This seemed a good area. I moved about five years ago.' He looked at her steadily. 'That about fills you in on what you already knew of my background, but doesn't have a great deal to do with what you've discovered for yourself

about me during these last few months. We're going to have to face the possibility that it may take time to restore your memory - time and patience, starting again from scratch. At least this time I'll know better how to handle you.' Her throat had gone dry, and she was aware of a pulse beating rapidly at her temple. 'It's not as simple as that, is it? You can't expect me to simply ... to go back to where we were.' His expression was carefully controlled. 'What's the alternative?' 'I don't know.' She tried to say it calmly. 'But there has to be one. Could you live with someone you didn't even recognize?' 'I could try it in the hope that recognition might come.' He drew in a breath. 'Julia, you're my wife and my responsibility. What kind of husband would I be if I agreed to what you're suggesting?' 'I'm not even sure what I am suggesting. I'm not sure about anything, except that I can't accept things just like that. You're asking me to come back and be your wife again, just like before. How . 'No, I'm not.' His tone was ragged. 'I want you back, but I wouldn't ask for anything you weren't prepared to give. I made you love me once, and I can do it again.' 'Did I?' she asked involuntarily, and saw his lips twist. 'If you didn't you put on a very convincing act at times! I realize I can't force you to come back home when you're discharged from here - legally, that is - but I've no intention of making it easy for you to be independent of me. It has to mean something to you that we've spent three months together. Don't you want to remember?'

'Yes, of course I want to.' Despite all her efforts her voice trembled suddenly and badly. 'I'd give anything to be able to recall all the things you've told me - even just one thing would do for a start. Only I can't. None of it means anything at all to me. I'm sorry if that hurts you. I can't help it... I wish I could!' 'All right.' His voice was forcibly soothing. 'Don't upset yourself. I don't want you to make yourself ill. We can talk about it again another day, if you like.' 'Yes.' She grasped eagerly at the respite, closing her mind to the knowledge that the problem would not go away or even decrease with time. 'Yes, we can do that.' His eyes still held hers. 'Is there anything else you'd like to know? Anything I might have missed?' There was a whole lot more she wanted to know, but it was doubtful if he could help her. Few people knew themselves well enough, or were honest enough, to be capable of true self-assessment. As he had said, the only way she was going to begin to rebuild her own knowledge of him was by going back to live with him in the house she hadn't even begun to imagine, and that was a decision she was not yet ready to make. She had to think about it, thinking about what it would mean if she never regained her memory of those months. Gould she possibly learn to love this man again, to live with him as she had before? Wouldn't the very strangeness of their relationship make that more difficult even than it seemed right now? 'No,' she said, 'not that I can think of.' 'Then I'd better be off. You look tired.' He came to his feet. 'I'll be back tonight. Is there anything you'd like bringing?'

She shook her head, not trusting her voice. She could feel him watching her and waiting, but nothing oil earth could have persuaded her to raise her face at that moment. 'Try and get some rest,' he said after a long-drawn- out minute. 'I hear you didn't sleep very well last night.' He was gone, leaving behind a faint aroma of shaving lotion and a sudden, overwhelmingly irrational sense of deprivation. He was her link with those missing weeks. Her only link. No matter what she thought or felt about him as a person it was only through him that she could fill in the missing pieces.

CHAPTER TWO THE main road ran through the centre of the market town which was Otterbridge. Reaching it, Ross turned to the right, putting his foot down once they had left the restricted area and keeping the car steady on the fifty mark for several straight miles of road before eventually leaving it again in favour of a place signposted Marlow. Passing along a neat and attractive high street some minutes later, he said steadily, 'We're quite a way out of the village itself, but there's always the Mini if you need to come in for any reason. Two cars are essential out hare.' Julia said, 'I can't drive,' and felt him glance at her. 'You can. I taught you. Not a practice I'd recommend, but you passed your test inside seven weeks. Ten to one you'll find that ability unimpaired.' She doubted that. Watching his hands on the wheel brought no sense of familiarity. She bit down hard on her lip. She hadn't expected this to be easy, but it was proving even more difficult than she had imagined during this last tense week. There were so many details involved, so many things to learn. If only she could fully convince herself that this whole fantastic situation was not some nightmare from which she would eventually awaken! They had left the village and were driving along a narrow road flanked by trees. Ross pulled into the side where there was a semblance of a lay-by, cut out the engine and sat for a long moment looking at her before saying gruffly: 'You're as nervous as a kitten. What are you afraid of - that I won't keep my word?'

'No,' she said huskily. 'It's me. I can't help it. Please try to understand.' 'I am trying. Believe me, I really am. But you have to try too.' He paused, choosing his words with care. 'You have to trust me, or it's no good. Can't you see that?' 'I know. And I do. It's just that you know how things were between us; I can only imagine. It's something I'm going to have to get over in my own time, this ... this strangeness, and it isn't going to help if you keep getting on at me about it.' His smile was rueful. 'That makes sense. Okay, let's forget I spoke.' He put a hand to his pocket and came away with the silver case. 'Cigarette?' 'Please.' Glad to have something to concentrate on, she bent her head to the flame of his lighter, then sat back in her seat while he did the same for himself. The smoke was soothing, the act in itself a social smoother. She felt herself relax a little, felt the fluttering wings in her stomach begin to subside. He was doing his best to extend sympathy and understanding, and it could be no easier for him than it was for her. She turned her head slightly to view the firm profile as he gazed out through the windscreen, eyes lingering on the strongly defined mouth and hard square jaw with its deep cleft in the centre. She had kissed that mouth and been kissed by it, been held in the arms resting now on the wheel. It hardly seemed possible that any woman could forget that kind of experience. 'Is it far now?' she asked as his head came round towards her. 'The cottage, I mean.'

'Not very.' He waited a moment, then put his hand to his pocket again. 'Before we go on, there's something you ought to have back.' Julia gazed at the small square box he put into her hands, and felt something hard come into her throat. 'Open it,' he said. She obeyed nervelessly, but couldn't bring herself to touch the diamond solitaire which winked up at her from its bed of black velvet. It wasn't hers. It belonged to someone else. Someone who had chosen it with stars in her eyes. 'It's beautiful,' she managed, and closed the box again with a snap. 'I'm sorry, I - I can't. You don't mind if I leave it in there for the time being?' 'Yes,' he said steadily, 'I do mind.' He took the box from her, extracted the ring and fitted it on to her finger himself, his touch firm and warm. 'If we're going to retrace then it has to be in detail. This was the first thing I ever gave you. You always wear it.' He let the hand go, added evenly, 'I love you, Julia. Keep thinking about that. Now, let's get on home.' Half a mile farther on they turned into a lane which was little more than a cart track in width, and which had a deepish ditch running along either side. Julia considered the idea of finding her way along here in the dark in a car this size, and decided that it would quite definitely be beyond her, even if she could drive as well as Ross had so confidently stated. Round a corner, and there was the cottage, set well back beyond a riot of roses and azaleas. Clematis clung to the sparkling white walls and dormer windows peeped from beneath the overhanging thatch. It was a picture-book place, the kind most people yearned to own but

could never find - not at the right price, at any rate. Julia doubted that it had looked quite the same when Ross himself had found it. Those window frames looked new. Automatically she found herself calculating what the premiums on all that thatch must amount to in terms of fire insurance. Ross came round the car with her case in his hand and opened the gate for her. Her heart thudding in an odd kind of anticipation, she went with him up the flagged path to the stout oak door, waited while he inserted the key in the lock. The hall was roomy and square, its beams low overhead. Through an archway on the right, Julia could see part of a large sitting- room, with a rough stone fireplace taking up the whole of one wall. There were two other doors leading off, both closed, and a staircase to the upper regions which consisted solely of solid beams jutting at intervals from the wall, connected at their free ends to a range of slender white poles which provided an effective and imaginative safeguard against any major slip of the foot. 'Was that your own idea?' she asked into the stillness. 'It's very eyecatching.' 'They're all my own ideas,' he replied, dropping her case on to the waxed boards. 'I had a year to dream them up while the rebuilding was going on. It's not too difficult to find good craftsmen in these parts, but the devil's own job to push them to any pace faster than they want to go.' Expression unrevealing, he went forward to open the door at the far end. 'Come and see the kitchen. You still like cooking, I hope.' Julia followed slowly, looked at the pine fittings and gleaming modern equipment and was aware of her own fast fading hopes. It was no use. She might as well accept it. Nothing of what she had seen so far had aroused anything beyond the kind of admiration and pleasure which might be expected from an inspection of a place like

this. She would have felt exactly the same had she been a prospective buyer. In fact, that was what she did feel like - only it was far more than just a house she was going to have to consider. 'I still like cooking,' she said abruptly, and turned away. 'Can I see my room?' 'In a minute.' It was difficult to tell what he was thinking or feeling right now. 'You haven't seen the garden.' At that precise moment Julia wanted nothing more than to be on her own again for a while, but he was already unlatching the top half of the stable door opposite. She went over reluctantly and stood at his side, viewing the long expanse of emerald grass sloping down to a pond overhung with willows. There was the anticipated profusion of plant life, and over on the right the beginning of the copse they had passed coming in along the lane. Under the nearest of the trees stood a young sable Alsatian, ears pricked expectantly. Ross whistled softly between his teeth, and the animal came bounding across, rearing up against the lower half of the door to stick his muzzle into his master's hand in enthusiastic and noisy welcome. Julia backed off a little as the beautifully marked head turned towards her. The dog's manner hadn't changed; it was she who was uncertain. He knew her, that much was obvious. Knew her well enough to have lost the natural aloofness of his breed and regard her with favour. She could hear his back paws scrabbling at the wood of the door as he endeavoured to reach her, and after a moment she put out a hand and allowed the wet nose to touch and sniff before sliding it round behind his ear and rubbing gently. His coat was thick and warm, the powerful neck muscles pressing against her. 'That's enough, Shan,' commanded Ross, and the dog dropped obediently to the ground to stand gazing up at them waving his plume of a tail while he waited for the next move.

'Last doubts gone?' asked his master softly, and Julia moved away from that all too perceptive regard. 'I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean.' 'You are, but you don't want to admit it. Right at the back of your mind there's been the suspicion that everything I've told you might be a lie, hasn't there? - although I'm not sure what possible motive you thought I might have for claiming you as my wife if you weren't.' 'All right.' She faced him honestly. 'So it did occur to me at one point. It isn't so strange.' 'I didn't say it was. I just wanted to make totally sure you were convinced on that point, that's all. You've worked in this kitchen, Julia. You've loved this whole place.' He leaned against the nearest fitting, hands in the pockets of his slacks. 'You planted those dahlias out there, and the wallflowers along at the front. Whether you remember it or not, there's a part of you here and you've got to accept it.' 'I have.' She was surprised by the evenness of her tone, 'Who would reject a stake in a place like this? It's - perfect.' 'Which is more than can be said for the architect.' He moved abruptly. 'You said you wanted to see your room.' Upstairs he showed her to a bedroom overlooking the front of the house, a large room with two windows and a restful colour scheme of dusky pinks and brown. Aware that this was almost certainly the room they would have shared, Julia searched her mind for something to say to relieve the moment, and found nothing adequate.

'Come on down when you're ready,' said Ross formally. 'I'll make some tea. Mrs. Cooper left everything ready for supper tonight in the fridge.' 'Mrs. Cooper?' 'Our daily. I told her a salad and cold meat would do. All right?' 'Yes, fine.' She hesitated. 'What else did you tell her?' 'Just the bare facts. She's a nice woman, and she'll do her best to carry on as usual, but you'll have to be prepared for a certain amount of non-comprehension, perhaps even embarrassment, when you fail to recognize her.' 'You're so sure I shall fail?' He shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine. According to Doctor Stewart, there are no hard and fast rules where amnesia is concerned. Some minor detail might be enough to trigger the shutter, or it could take another crack on the head.' 'It might be an idea,' she murmured, and drew a faint smile. 'Once is enough, thanks.' She closed the door after him with relief, and leaned against it with closed eyes. She had to find some acceptable pattern of behaviour, a veneer behind which she could hide until she had accustomed herself to this whole impossible situation. And she had to start now, today, or it was no use going on. Presently she moved across and opened the wardrobe door. There were clothes in there she had never seen before hanging side by side with familiar favourites. On impulse she slipped down the zip of the amber wool dress Ross had brought to the hospital and stepped out of

it, took down and put on a slim-fitting dark blue she had had for over a year, and immediately felt better. She was Julia Gardner again - just for a moment, at any rate. There was a framed, enlarged snapshot of Ross and herself on the dressing-table, both of them in swimsuits with what looked like a lake in the background, and beyond that mountains. Ross had an arm about her shoulders, and they were both of them laughing as at some shared joke. Gazing at the photograph, Julia was aware once more of that swift sense of intrusion, of peeping in on the life of someone she didn't know. She shivered and turned away. Things were getting worse, not better. Ross was bringing a tray through from the kitchen when she went down. He had discarded his jacket and put on a light sweater against the chill of the autumn afternoon, tucked a scarf casually in the neckline in lieu of a tie. He was also, she discovered as he looked up at her, beginning to be in need of a shave again. Oddly, that helped a little. If he noticed her change of dress he made no comment. There was a fire burning in the large open grate of the sitting-room fireplace, the logs already glowing red underneath. Julia found herself a seat in a deep armchair covered in plain gold rep which was within easy reach of the low table where Ross had set the tray down. She accepted a cup from him and put it to her lips, glad as she had been in the car of something to do with her hands. 'What would we do without the social niceties?' commented Ross dryly, reading her without effort. 'Enough sugar?' 'Yes,' she said, and made herself look at him. 'I imagine you're good at remembering details like that.' 'About you, yes. It's the small things which help make a marriage work.' He sat down opposite in the twin of her own chair, took his

drink in a couple of swallows and pushed his cup on to the table. 'I know just how you like your coffee in the morning, that you always have your eggs fried on both sides, and that you prefer brown bread to white. I know how you look with your hair all tousled and your eyes still sleepy, how you ...' He was watching her with a faint smile ... 'Shall I go on?' She shook her head, the warmth still in her cheeks. 'You've made your point. How do you like your coffee?' 'Strong and black. Bacon crisp, eggs sunny side up, toast pale gold. I like the paper unmussed, and time to read through the sports pages before I leave for work. That means breakfast at eight sharp Mondays to Fridays.' He quirked an eyebrow. 'Think you can cope?' Despite herself she had to smile. 'Did I?' 'Admirably, once we've settled who was due to what. Not that it was easy. We'd both been independent for too long.' Some unreadable expression flickered briefly across his face. 'Any more tea?' 'I'll get it.' She leaned forward to reach the table. 'How about you?' 'One is my limit. Have you ever taken note of what that stuff does to the inside of a teapot?' 'Like nicotine?' she suggested as he took out the slim case, and he grinned. 'Now tell me I smoke too much and I'll really start feeling you're home!' Her smiled faded abruptly. She put the teapot down and pressed herself to her feet, walked across to the back window and stood looking out.

'Does Shan stay outside all the time?' she asked after a moment or two. , 'He did before you arrived. He has a perfectly adequate kennel, and plenty of space.' There was no apparent change in his tone. 'First it was just as far as the kitchen, then he wormed his way in here in the evenings, and one time when I was supposed to be spending the night in London and came home unexpectedly, I found him on the bed. When I sounded off at you he went for me.' Her head came round. 'Seriously?' 'I didn't bother to ask. Alsatians are pack animals; there has to be a leader. If I'd let him get away with it he'd have taken advantage. They've only got the name they have because the majority of folk who take them on as pets don't understand that much.' He paused. 'Here endeth the lesson. You're not afraid of being left with him, are you?' 'I don't think so. He seemed to like me.' 'Wise animal.' His tone was easy. 'Let's go and take a look at the garden while the sun's still up. There's a lot of work you were planning to do before the colder weather sets in.' They toured the garden for the following hour, walking together but apart, the gap between them still not wholly bridgeable. Julia was not in the least surprised to find herself fairly knowledgeable on the subject of gardening; her father had always been keen and had passed on that interest during her teenage years with him in the house in Harrow. Ross himself confessed to an almost total indifference towards that particular form of so-called relaxation. Gardens were for sitting in and looking at, he said with a laugh when they eventually turned back to the house.

The afternoon slipped into evening. At seven they ate the meal prepared by Mrs. Cooper, and then Julia made coffee for them both. Bringing the tray through from the kitchen, she found the curtains drawn against the night, and Ross in the act of tossing another log on to the glowing embers of the fire. 'They're forecasting a cool night,' he commented, switching channels on the radio to find some music as she set the tray down. 'A bit early for these parts. We can usually rely on the mild weather continuing right into the first week in November most years. There are extra blankets in the chest in your room if you find you need them during the night.' 'Thanks.' Julia poured the coffee, added sugar to her own cup and paused. 'Black and sweet?' 'Two,' he answered succinctly, and subsided into the same chair he had occupied earlier, leaving her to take the one opposite. 'You haven't forgotten how to make good coffee,' he observed with satisfaction a moment later. 'Did you have any difficulty finding things?' 'No,' she acknowledged, realizing it for the first time. She stirred her own drink slowly, aware of his eyes on her and reluctant to meet them. Of the two of them he was by far the most at ease. She wished she were only capable of dissembling to the same extent. It would be a vast relief to turn her back on the problems which beset her. 'What time does Mrs. Cooper get here in the morning?' she asked into the silence. 'Eight-thirty,' he said. T usually pass her on the lane.' He added evenly, 'I can take another day off, if you like. There's nothing pressing.'

'Oh no!' The refusal was swift - too swift. She made an effort to soften it a little. 'I have to be on my own sooner or later. Do you stay in town for lunch?' 'Unless I happen to be out this way, in which case I give you a call.' His tone was enigmatic. 'What will you do with yourself all day?' 'I'm not sure.' She conjured up a light note. 'What does one normally do in the country - apart from gardening, I mean?' He shrugged. 'You never seemed much at a loss. There's Shan for company when Mrs. Cooper has gone, and there's always the car. You did say something about hiring a horse from the farm down the road. That was a bit of a surprise. Up until then I hadn't known you could ride.' 'I can't. At least, not all that well. I've been a few times with one of the girls from the office. Her father owns a smallholding in Kent, and I spent a few weekends down there.' She considered the idea. 'It's a thought, providing they have a nice quiet animal for hire. It's very good exercise.' This time she made herself look directly at him. 'Do you ride at all?' 'Never got around to trying. A good fast car always seemed more my line.' A smile flicked at his lips. 'Not thinking of trying to get me up there alongside you, by any chance?' 'No,' she said unthinkingly, 'you're probably too old to start now.' She coloured as his brows lifted quizzically. 'I meant, to start learning from scratch. I can't imagine you taking instructions from anybody.' 'You can't?' He studied her for a long moment. 'Well, perhaps you're right. At thirty-five a man shouldn't need to find himself in that position. Are you sure you'll be safe on your own?'

'Reasonably. At least I can remember riding a horse.' 'You'll remember driving a car too once you're behind the wheel. That is, your instincts will. Try it tomorrow on the lane.' 'Supposing I run it into the ditch?' 'Then we'll just have to fetch it out again. Or would you rather wait till I come home and have a go then?' At that precise moment Julia felt that she would far rather not try out her driving skill at all, but it would have sounded ungrateful to say so. If Ross said she could drive then there was no reason to doubt his word. One thing was certain, she would not find out how good or bad she was going to be until she had nerved herself to get behind a wheel and try. 'I'll wait,' she said at last. 'I'll feel safer knowing you're there to take over if you do turn out to be wrong.' 'Fair enough. I'll try to make it early.' He watched her pour them both more coffee, added easily, 'Why don't you go and let Shan in? He's been scrabbling at the back door for the last ten minutes.' She said swiftly, 'You don't mind?' 'I got over minding some time ago,' on a dry note. 'I had him in myself while you were in hospital, despite the fact that I still think he's better off outdoors. Now he thinks he has us both wrapped up. Go and get him before he has all the paint off.' The dog was waiting when she opened the door, tail questing the air. He gave her a cold nose in passing, padded into the hall, and stood there waiting for her to follow before attempting to enter the sittingroom. Once there, however, it was Ross who became the focus of

attention, until a brisk command sent him to the spot on the hearth which he had obviously chosen for his own. 'Ruined,' observed his master, viewing him with an air of resignation, and received a thump of the silver- threaded tail by way of reply. 'He knows you don't mean it.' Julia was smiling at the dog's obvious enjoyment of the warmth. She bent down and ran her hand over the fine head, rubbed the ear which was immediately pressed against her. 'It's wonderful how sensitive to atmosphere they are.' 'And good for it too, apparently.' Ross was watching her, a faint edge to his smile. 'Your coffee will be cold.' Julia sat back abruptly, her own smile fading. She had been natural with the dog in a way she couldn't bring herself to be with Ross, and he had noted it. It was difficult to foresee a time when she would be able to feel as much at ease with the man who sat opposite. Circumstances did not allow for it - not as they were at present. She shouldn't have come back, she thought numbly. Not here to the cottage. There had to be another way of resolving matters. 'It's not going to work,' she said thickly. 'You must see that as well as I do. I can't make myself feel something.' 'I'm not asking you to. All I do ask is that you make some kind of effort to meet me half-way.' He spoke evenly enough, but the edge was still there. 'Have you any idea what it's like to have you shut yourself in behind an iron curtain every time it occurs to you that we're alone here? I'm not going to pretend that the physical side of our relationship means nothing very much to me. I'd be an odd kind of husband if it didn't. But we had a lot more going for us than just that, and it's the whole of it I want back, not just a part. All right?'

She looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. 'All right. More coffee?' 'Why not?' He handed her his cup, accepted it back and said unemotionally, 'You look tired. Why don't you have an early night? You can't break with hospital routine all at once, you know.' 'So I'm beginning to gather.' She moved to lift the tray. 'I'll take these through first.' 'I'll do that when I've finished with this. I've a few papers to look over and a letter to write before I come up. See you in the morning.' 'Yes.' She moved unhurriedly to the archway leading into the hall, pausing when she reached it to glance back to where man and dog still lounged before the flames. 'Good night.' 'Good night,' he answered, but he didn't look round.

CHAPTER THREE IT was a fortnight before Julia gained sufficient confidence in herself to attempt to drive the car without Ross standing by ready to extricate her from difficulties. A fortnight in which she found time and to spare for exploring the countryside around and about the cottage. It was an odd, almost eerie feeling to walk across a meadow or down a lane quite new to her, and realize suddenly that she must have done it all before - with minor differences. It was autumn now, it had been summer then. She would have had no need of the jacket about her shoulders against the nip in the air. She visited the village only once, aware of the curiosity in the faces of those she passed in the street, the whispers behind her in the store. Mrs. Cooper would be the source of their obvious information, she knew, yet she couldn't bring herself to judge that homely little body too harshly; it was hardly to be expected that she could have kept such an item of news entirely to herself. She tried not to mind the thought of being discussed and speculated upon. Eventually they would find something else to claim their interest. For the present, however, she made a point of ensuring that her orders for delivered goods were comprehensive enough to cover all household needs. Gradually the days had taken on a pattern. In the mornings she tramped the countryside with Shan, returned to the cottage for lunch, and spend the afternoons in the garden, weather permitting. She read a lot, too, renewing her acquaintance with the classics of her schooldays in between perusing the many other fields of literature packed along the shelves set between the fireplace walls; her husband's tastes in reading matter, she gathered, were varied and free-ranging. It was an easy, soothing life, but also a solitary one. Inevitably there came a time when she found herself beginning to look forward to the evening and Ross's return, to listen for the sound of the car, the slam

of the door, the decisive footsteps on the flags. There were even times when she could almost forget the circumstances of their relationship in the growing need for the stimulation of his company. Almost, but not quite. In so many ways he was still so much of a stranger. She was in the garden late on the second Friday afternoon when she heard a car turn in along the lane from the road. A glance at her watch told her that it was unlikely to be Ross who would normally be back about six. In any case, the engine note was different. Her heart thudding painfully, she listened to the sound, hoping against hope that some mistake had been made in direction which would presently be discovered and rectified. She wasn't ready for visitors yet. Not without Ross there to lend her support. She had supposed that he would have warned all the people they knew mutually, and had reckoned on them having the sensitivity to stay away from the cottage until she had prepared herself for the confrontations. Perhaps this was someone he had missed, in which case it was going to be up to her to do the explaining. And how to start? she wondered with an element of desperation as the car came to a halt out front. What did she say? The sharp clang of the brass bell outside the front door startled her despite her anticipation of it. She stayed where she was, putting a hand on Shan's muzzle as the dog tensed to bark. If she kept quiet and didn't show herself, the person or people might think the house empty and go away. There was a long pause after the second swing of the bell. Julia imagined the possible actions: the step back to look at the windows and perhaps the chimney, the quick peep into the sitting-room with its unguarded fire a sure sign of recent occupation, the thoughtful puckering of a brow. Unmistakably came the squeak of the tall door set between side and boundary walls, the click of the latch being

replaced and the sound of footsteps on the flags advancing towards her. It was no use. She had been found out. There was nowhere to hide herself now. The man who appeared round the far corner of the cottage was young and casually dressed, his hair tousled as though by a strong wind. He stopped when he saw her, looked first surprised and then uncertain, and then a shade apprehensive as Shan broke loose from her grip and charged towards the newcomer barking loudly. 'All right, old chap. Take it easy! I'm friend, not foe!' With one eye still warily on the dog he smiled at Julia. 'Hallo at last. I'm David.' She stared at him, the trowel still clutched in her hand. No need to ask the other half of the name; the resemblance was too strong for any mistake. Eight, maybe nine years younger than Ross, but uncannily like him right down to the cleft in the chin, clearly visible even from several yards distance. Why hadn't Ross told her that he had a brother? Why would he not have told her? There had been no mention at all of any relatives. That she was certain of. The tanned face lost its smile and began to look distinctly uncomfortable. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I thought you'd be expecting me. I wrote over two weeks ago saying I was coming to England. Didn't you get my letter?' 'I don't think we can have,' she managed unsteadily. 'Ross didn't... He would have said.' 'It was addressed to you both.' He sounded nonplussed. 'Trust the P.O. to foul things up on my first long leave! I hate dropping on you like this.'

Julia took herself firmly in hand. 'Not at all. It will be a wonderful surprise for Ross to find you here when he gets back. I'm sorry I didn't answer the bell. I - I thought it might be someone else.' His grin was attractive. 'Never-say-die Mannering, that's me! I came round hoping to find a window left open, or something. Didn't fancy the trek into town to look up Ross for the loan of a key.' He followed her into the kitchen, closing the lower half of the door firmly against Shan's attempt to follow them. 'Back, hound!' His glance went round the room approvingly. 'Quite a few changes about the place since I last saw it. The builders were still finishing off when I went out to Algeria. Don't you find things a bit quiet round here after living in London all your life?' 'Sometimes,' she admitted, and felt a small pang of something like disloyalty. 'But I have the car,' she added quickly. 'Would you like some coffee?' 'Please.' He leaned his back against the table in the same easy stance adopted by his brother. 'Ross said you make coffee like no other woman he's ever known.' Her head came round sharply. 'When did you see him?' 'See him? Well, just over a year ago, before I went overseas.' He was looking at her oddly. 'I meant he said it once in a letter. You added a postscript yourself about ambiguous statements. Don't you remember?' Her pulses jerked. This was the obvious moment to tell him the truth, yet she couldn't form the words. 'No,' she said, her voice sounding amazingly steady, 'I can't say that I do. Did you come by plane or boat?'

'Plane. Landed this morning at Heathrow, hired a car and came straight on down here. I intended sending a telegram confirming arrival, but what with one thing and another I never got round to it.' He paused. 'Am I going to put you right out ?' 'Of course not,' she hastened to assure him. 'It was just a surprise, that's all. How long are you here for?' 'A month altogether. I thought I might spend a couple of weeks here, and then pop up to town for a bit of a spree. When I didn't get a reply to my letter I assumed I hadn't left enough time for the usual channels, but felt sure Ross would have contacted me somehow if it wasn't going to be convenient. Anyway, I'd far rather you say if it isn't. I can always kip down in the flat - providing Ross hasn't sublet?' 'I'm quite sure he'll want you to stay here,' Julia said swiftly, sliding away from a question she couldn't possibly answer with any assurance. 'There are three bedrooms.' 'I'll only need one. You can still keep a spare to kick Ross into when you fall out.' The spoon she had used for the coffee clattered to the floor. Julia bent to pick it up, glad of the excuse for the rush of swift colour to her cheeks. Three bedrooms, three people, but naturally David would take it for granted that she and Ross would share the big one. The explanations were going to have to come one way or another. Only not from her. Let Ross do the telling when he came home. This was his brother. He would know how to put it. 'Do you mind if we have it in here?' she asked, busying herself with the taking of Cups and saucers from the cupboard. 'It's time I was starting on supper. I hope you like fish.'

'Sure. Don't bother about me, I'll sit here and watch.' Manlike, he accepted that she could make fish for two stretch to three with little difficulty. 'I've been looking forward to some good British cooking. The canteen at Izria is okay, but chips get a bit monotonous when you're having 'em every other day.' Julia longed to ask where and what Izria was, only that would have been too much of a giveaway. It was to be expected that Ross would have told her the details of his brother's job, whatever that was. She was being silly about this whole affair, she knew, yet it seemed to make no difference. Anything rather than go through the strain of trying to put into words a situation which was barely more real to her now than it had been three weeks ago. When Ross came in she would leave them to it. Until then she would keep up this charade if it killed her. As things turned out, it proved easier than she had hoped. Prompted by a few safe questions, David did most of the talking, telling her about his life during the last two years in a humorous vein which did not disguise the fact that he liked his kind of work. Gradually it became apparent that he was an engineer with one of the big oil companies, working his way through a three- year-tour of duty out East. Existence in the desert camps sounded routine and boring, although he assured her that things could often become quite hectic, even dangerous, when politics and greed began to mingle. Once they had been cut off for three weeks while two local sheikhs sorted out their differences. 'We're twenty miles out from the nearest township,' he said. 'And that's not much of a place, believe me!' He grinned. 'Kena! reminds me of Marlow in a lot of ways — apart from the smell. There's just about as much doing. If we want any real life we have to make the trip by road - six hours. A bit like this, only on a larger, dryer scale. I'm amazed you've stuck it out this long. I gave a city-bred girl a

couple of months at the most. Mind you, it's a better place to bring up a family, I suppose.' Julia concentrated on the slowly thickening sauce in the pan she was holding over the heat. Adding the grated cheese, she said carefully, 'You'll be looking up all your own old flames when you go up to London, I suppose. Have you kept in touch with anyone in particular?' There was a small silence before he answered, and when he did his voice had altered its tone. 'Ross didn't tell you, then?' Her hand barely paused in its stirring motion. 'Tell me what?' 'About Lou and me. I was engaged to a girl who decided to marry someone else.' The statement was matter-of-fact. 'This job seemed to offer itself at just the right psychological moment. I was out of the country inside of ten days.' 'I'm sorry,' she said after a moment. 'I didn't mean to rake up old wounds.' 'That's okay. It's a long time ago now.' His cheerfulness was only slightly overdone. 'I just took it that. Ross would have mentioned it, although there's no particular reason why he should have done, when I think about it. What's past is past. You can hardly blame him for wanting to adopt that attitude.' He sniffed appreciatively. 'Nothing quite like the smell of home cooking! When do you expect Ross home?' 'In about fifteen minutes.' Julia opened the oven door and took out the steaming casserole, setting it down on the cooker top with a faint frown. There was something in that last statement of David's which

bothered her. Why should Ross want to forget the past? What was in the past to be forgotten? She smothered the fish and mushrooms in the cheese sauce, added a sprinkle of paprika and put the uncovered dish back on the centre shelf to finish baking. By the time she had laid the table Ross would be here and everything would be ready, and if she had to sit down herself with just a quick lick and a promise then that would have to do this once. If there was one thing Ross seemed to appreciate it was having a meal ready to sit down to within a few minutes of his entering the house. Whether that was usual, or merely desirable because it eased the atmosphere and gave them both a breathing space, she had no idea. Whatever the motive, it worked. She left David in the kitchen while she went through to the diningroom. A moment or two later he appeared in the doorway, lounging there to watch her for a few seconds before saying suddenly, 'I say, would you mind if we had the radio on or something? In Izria we have it going all day long, even way out on the pipeline. You get sort of used to the background.' 'Help yourself,' she invited. 'It's in the sitting- room.' He disappeared again. There was a pause, then sound blared forth, modern, tuneless and ear-shattering. Julia winced, thought briefly and longingly of the Liszt concerto she had played earlier and which still rested on the turntable, and reflected wryly that it took all sorts of tastes to make a world. 'Can you turn it down just a little?' she called eventually. The noise decreased at once. David came to the door. 'Sorry,' he said.

She smiled at him. 'That's all right.' Standing there in the doorway he looked boyishly sheepish. On impulse she said, 'Do you really like this stuff?' and saw his expression alter to one of surprise. 'Pop music, you mean?' He considered. 'Can't say I've given it much thought. This and the local programmes are about all we get in Algeria.' He whistled a few bars, sadly off key, of the tune being rendered at the moment, paused, and grinned at her. 'Music, as you may guess, is not my thing. I just can't stand too much quiet. I've had many a complaint about bellowing my head off in the showers. Somebody once said I sounded like a bull moose revving up for the mating season!' Julia dissolved into laughter, heard the front door close sharply and sobered abruptly. 'Here's Ross,' she said. David had already turned, his smile widening as he looked at the man who came round the corner of the hall. 'Hi! Surprise! Surprise! Julia tells me you didn't get my letter.' 'Apparently not.' His brother's tone was pleasant, but there was an underlying note of reserve. 'Good to see you, Dave. When did you get in?' 'This morning. I got down here about an hour ago.' Dave's grin was easy, natural. 'You were right about the coffee. Best I've ever tasted. She's no mean cook either, judging by the smells coming from that kitchen. My mouth's been watering for the last half hour.' Blue eyes met steady grey ones and slid away. Very faintly, Julia shook her head. She was aware of David's swiftly concealed surprise at his brother's failure to step in and greet his bride of barely four

months with a little more enthusiasm, and made an effort to rectify the moment by putting on a bright smile. 'Dinner is almost ready. Why don't you two go in and have a drink while I dish up?' 'Good idea.' A glint in his eyes, Ross put his hands lightly on her waist as she made to pass him, and kissed her on the temple. 'Had a good day?' 'The usual kind,' she managed, resisting the urge to back away from him. She forced herself to look at him. 'You and David will have a lot to talk about.' 'Yes,' he said, 'I'm sure we will.' It was impossible to guess what he was feeling at that moment. He let her go, his gaze going over her shoulder to where his brother stood smiling just a little uncertainly. 'Are you still a whisky man, Dave, or have the wide open spaces given you a taste for something longer?' 'Whisky will do me fine.' The younger man glanced at Julia. 'Are you sure there's nothing you want carrying in?' 'Nothing I can't manage via the hatch, thanks. It will be on the table in ten minutes.' Back in the kitchen she leant on the door, and took in a deep breath. She could still feel the imprint of Ross's lips on her skin, the warmth of his hands at her waist. It was the first time he had made any attempt to touch her, the first time since the day he had brought her home from hospital that he had given any indication at all of even wanting to touch her. Her own wishes, of course, and yet occasionally it had made her wonder how deep his avowed feelings for her actually went if he could so easily turn off his emotions. And why had he made an exception of tonight? Because of a natural

reluctance to reveal the depths of the chasm between them to his brother? But he was going to have to do that anyway. Julia wished she could begin to sort out her own tangled emotions. The radio had been turned off when she went through to call the two of them to the table. In ten minutes there would not have been much opportunity to broach the subject with any kind of delicacy, she knew, and she was prepared for David's probable reactions. One look was enough to tell her that so far he still remained in ignorance of the true state of affairs. She shot a glance at Ross to have it expressionlessly returned. If the onus was his, she gathered, he would choose his own time and place. Until then she could do little but go along. It was difficult, if not impossible, to avoid an atmosphere during the meal. Aware of the inevitability of disclosure at some point in the evening, Julia found it harder than ever to dissemble and play the part expected of her. Several times she caught David looking from one to the other of them with a faint line etched between his brows. That he knew something was wrong was obvious, although he would hardly be capable of guessing the truth. Looking back on it, she realized now that it would have been far easier to have made matters plain from the start. Easier and more sensible. After all, there was no shame in what had happened to her. Was there? She left the men to a second cup of coffee after the meal and went up to prepare the spare room, taking her time over it. When she returned to the sitting-room Ross was alone. 'He's gone out to the car for his case,' he said. 'I gather he intends spending the next two weeks with us.' 'So he said.' She paused uncertainly. 'You ... you haven't told him yet?'

His brows lifted. 'I was under the impression that you didn't want me to tell him from the way you acted when I came in. If you're so eager to have everything open and above board why didn't you tell him yourself when he arrived?' 'Because,' she said, 'it took me several minutes to get over the shock. Until he walked round the corner and said who he was I had no idea at all that you even had a brother, remember? You never mentioned him.' 'It didn't seem relevant. He was several thousand miles away, and so far as I knew unlikely to be dropping in. One unknown quantity seemed enough for you to be going on with.' His lips were thin. 'It's different with Dave, though, isn't it? You can relax with him.' 'Relax!' Her voice sounded quivery. 'It's been like playing charades these last few hours. You call that relaxing?' 'We're on different tracks. I meant that as a man he presents no particular problem, while with me you're constantly walking a tightrope, scared stiff to do or say anything which might possibly be misinterpreted as encouragement. Tonight was the first time you've laughed naturally since the accident, the first time I've heard you sounding anything like the girl I married. All right, so I'm glad that somebody could bring you out of it at last, but don't expect me to start apologizing for resenting the fact that it had to be my brother who did what I failed to do. I haven't got it in me to be that unselfish.' The palms of her hands were damp. 'It hasn't been quite like that,' she said in low tones. 'You've been so impersonal this last two weeks. I wasn't sure ...' 'You weren't sure how I was feeling about all this - whether I'd discovered I didn't care quite as much as I thought I did, is that what you're trying to say?' Hands in pockets he looked at her, went on

roughly, 'I care right enough. What I can't cope with is the look in your eyes if I dare to show the least hint of any natural emotion. I can talk with my wife about books, about music, about anything under the sun but ourselves. That takes some living with.' Her throat hurt. 'I'm sorry.' There seemed little else she could say right at that moment. 'What are we going to do about David?' His pause was brief. 'Tell him, I suppose. What else can we do?' 'Tell me what?' David stood in the archway, suitcase in his hand. There was a look of concern on the tanned features, together with a certain wariness. 'I didn't meant to eavesdrop,' he said. 'I couldn't help hearing some of it as I came in.' He glanced from one to the other, and put the suitcase down heavily on the floor. 'I did come at the wrong time, didn't I?' 'Maybe not.' Ross moved abruptly to take a cigarette from the box on the coffee table and apply a light. He blew smoke forcefully through his teeth, said evenly, 'Julia had an accident a few weeks back. She was unconscious for several hours. When she came round she'd forgotten me, this place, and everything that's happened in the last few months. Partial amnesia, the medics call it. Duration indefinite. She's here at all only because there was nowhere else for her to go.' Julia met David's stunned glance and turned away. Put into words it sounded so cold and clinical. And the last wasn't true. Not quite. She was here because she had needed to know something of those missing months in her life - still needed to know. It was like having the first three chapters torn from a book, making it necessary to build up an impression of the beginning from what came later. Surely that was understandable.

'What do you want me to do?' David asked after a lengthy pause. It was apparent from his tone that he was trying his best to adjust quickly. 'I mean, shall I go or stay? You only...' 'Stay.' It was Ross who spoke, voice clipped and decisive. 'A third party might be the best thing for both of us. Make yourself at home, Dave. I'm going to take the dog for a walk.' Julia waited until she heard the kitchen door close and Shan's eager whining before saying tonelessly, 'Your room is the second on the right. I'll make some more coffee.' David didn't move. 'Why did you pretend?' he asked. 'I don't know.' She lifted her shoulders, let them drop again. 'Instinctive, I suppose. I wanted to be normal again.' 'There's nothing abnormal about loss of memory — not in the way you mean. I knew a chap once who lost his completely after falling down an escalator. Couldn't remember his wife or children. Mind a total blank. Then it just came back quite suddenly on its own.' Julia said softly, 'Thanks, David.' 'It's true,' he protested. 'Really.' 'I'm not doubting it. I just don't feel that it's likely to happen to me that way.' She rubbed a hand across her forehead. 'The hardest part has been learning to accept that anything happened at all.' 'I can imagine.' He shook his head with a sudden impatient movement. 'No, damn it, I can't! Nobody possibly could who hadn't experienced it for themselves.' 'You're very ... understanding.'

'I'm on the outside,' he said. 'It's easier for me. I knew something was wrong when Ross came home, but I hoped it was just one of those married tiffs.' Her laugh was without merriment. 'I wish that's all it was!' He came farther into the room, leaving the case standing where it was. 'Want to talk about it? I can't offer a solution, but a ready ear might help.' 'What is there to talk about? I woke up one day to find a stranger at my bedside who said he was my husband. End of story.' 'I'd have said more like the beginning. You must want to know the rest or you wouldn't be here.' Julia looked across at him. 'You seem to understand me better than your brother does.' 'I've told you - Ross is too involved. For three months he was a happy man, and now he's lost it all again. Naturally he's bitter about it.' 'Was he?' she asked urgently. 'Happy, I mean. How do you know?' 'His letters. Didn't he ...' He stopped, looked rueful. 'I see what you mean about learning to accept. Hasn't there been anything at all? Even the faintest glimmer.' 'Nothing. Unless ...' she hesitated ... 'unless you count the way I was able to put my hands on things without thinking about it even on my first day here - back here. I can't make up my mind whether that was memory, or simply due to the fact that everything was in the place where I would logically expect it to be, being a woman.'

His grin was infectious. 'Being a man, I never think women are creatures of logic, but it's only an opinion. How has everyone else taken it?' Julia felt her face go blank. 'I don't know. I haven't seen anyone. I don't want to see anyone. Not just yet.' 'It's not going to help anything staying shut up here.' 'Nothing is going to help. I've reconciled myself to that. I can't stand the thought of being stared at and talked about, that's all.' 'You'll be talked about even more if you become a recluse. As for being stared at ...' he smiled ... 'you must have been used to that. Bill Grieves could always pick a secretary!' 'I sometimes think,' she said in suddenly husky tones, 'that it might have been better if I'd lost my memory altogether. It's being able to recall everything so clearly right up to the day Ross says we met that makes all this so terribly unreal. Like being plucked straight out of one's own life and dropped slap bang in the middle of someone else's.' David picked up a small china figurine from the shelf near his elbow, turned it over in his hands. 'Have you thought about going back to London and trying to sort things out from that end? It was Bill who introduced you to Ross. You never know...' 'Yes,' she said, 'I've thought about it. The only thing is, if I once left here I don't think I'd come back.' She picked up the coffee pot. 'I was going to make some more.' 'Right now,' he said, 'I feel like something a bit stronger. How about you?'

She shook her head. 'I've a feeling that if I once got started I might not know when to stop. Help yourself.' She went back to the kitchen with the tray, ran hot water into the bowl and slid in the cups. Her reflection gazed back at her darkly from the window glass, the trees beyond silhouetted blackly against an only slightly lighter sky. She thought of Ross out there alone but for Shan in the dark, and wondered if there would ever come a time when she could begin to place her full trust and reliance in him. A precarious relationship at the best. And what effect, she wondered, was David's presence in the cottage going to have upon it?

CHAPTER FOUR IT was gone ten when Ross returned to the house, wearing his usual enigmatic expression. Julia made coffee and sandwiches, drank half a cup herself, and excused herself on a plea of tiredness to go upstairs to her room. She had supposed that the two men would spend at least another half an hour talking, and was surprised when she heard them both come up only ten minutes or so later. There was a murmuring of voices on the landing, and the sound of a door closing. A brief pause, then there came a tap on her own door and Ross's voice, quiet but firm: 'Julia, I want to talk to you.' Julia met her own eyes in the mirror, laid down the hairbrush she had been wielding and got up to go and open the door. Ross stood with one hand resting against the jamb. His glance slid over the blue wrap, came back to her face and rested there. 'Are you going to trust me inside, or would you rather go back downstairs?' She looked at him for a long moment before she moved. He came in quickly, closing the door behind him. With his back against it he said, 'How do you feel about having David here? If you'd rather he didn't stay, say so. There's always the flat.' 'The flat?' she queried, playing for time. 'Over the office. I used it myself when I first came down here, then it was sublet for a year or so. It's empty at the moment.' 'Didn't you find it more convenient?' she asked carefully. 'I mean, living so close to your work, and being single. This place seems so far off the beaten track for a man on his own.'

'The idea was to use the flat during the week and move out here at the week-ends for some peace and quiet. When a client asked me if I could find a home for Shan when he found he was going to have to move back to town, I had to think again. A small flat and a boisterous Alsatian pup don't mix very well. I persuaded Mrs. Cooper to put in a five-day week and moved out here permanently.' With some deliberation, he added, 'To get back to the original question, what about David?' Julia turned back to the dressing-table, picking up the brush again and weighing it carefully in her hand. 'He's your brother.' 'That's a fact, not a reason.' He was watching her through the mirror. 'The only way we're going to work this out is by being honest with one another.' 'Are people ever completely honest with each other?' she murmured, and his expression underwent a subtle change. 'If they're not it's sometimes for honest reasons. Stop prevaricating, Julia. It's your decision.' 'Do you want him to stay?' He moved impatiently. 'I want anything that's going to help get us back to something approaching normal living. You need some kind of distraction, and you're not going to get it on your own. You make a point of avoiding Mrs. Cooper all you can.' 'That should relieve her.' 'Meaning what?' 'Meaning that she probably thinks I belong in a mental home anyway.'

'Hey!' His voice softened. 'That's the first time I've heard you give way to self-pity.' Already regretting the remark, she made an attempt to amend it. 'So it was going a bit far. It's just that sometimes I catch her looking at me as though she's not quite sure what I might do next.' 'Well, if she was scared of you she'd leave. You're probably the one bit of real excitement in her life.' 'That certainly makes it all worth while!' 'Julia, stop it!' He was across the room and swinging her gently about to face him, his hands light on her elbows. 'We could try to get someone else to come in, if you'd prefer it. I didn't know you felt like this about the woman.' She was conscious of his nearness, of the male scent of his hair and skin, the touch of his hands. One step would take her into his arms. She took the step - backwards - and saw his face harden again. 'No,' she said quickly, 'it isn't necessary. I was being childish. And of course David must stay.' 'Of course.' His hands had dropped when she moved, and now he turned back towards the door. 'I'll not keep you up any longer. Good night.' The door opened and closed again. Julia sat down on the seat she had so recently vacated and ran the brush over her hair, realized her hand was trembling too much and gave it up as a bad job. A small pulse beat rapidly at the base of her throat, and she was aware of the ache deep down inside her. She rose abruptly to peel off the wrap and switch off the light and slide in between the sheets.

There was a smell of frying bacon in the air when Julia awoke at eight. By the time she got down to the kitchen David was spooning scrambled eggs into a dish while keeping a weather eye open for the milk coming up to heat. 'Hi,' he greeted her casually. 'I was going to bring you up a tray, but seeing that you're here you may as well see to the coffee while I finish the eats. Do you want tomatoes?' 'I'll settle for the eggs, I think.' She watched him for a moment, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth as he neatly flipped over the slices of tomato in the pan. 'You're very professional.' 'For a man?' He grinned. 'Practice makes perfect, or words to that effect. I've lived on my own for too long to put up with indifferent cooking - mine or anyone else's. Mind you, I wouldn't make a Cordon Bleu, but I can tell mutton from lamb at fifty paces. Worth a minor award, wouldn't you say?' Julia picked up the milk bottle top and handed it to him gravely. 'Have a medal.' 'Don't mind if I do.' Ignoring the cream still adhering to the foil, he stuck it on the front of his lambswool sweater. 'Should have been gold top, though. Never could stand being second best. When I was nine I vowed I'd be as tall as Ross before I left school, and I was. What's more, we've never varied more than a quarter of an inch since. How about that for an example of mind over matter?' 'How do you know it wouldn't have turned out like that anyway?' 'I don't. But if there's one thing I have learned in my twenty-six years of living, it's to claim credit for all things possible. It adds zest to one's biography.' He grinned at her cheerfully. 'You should laugh like that more often. It suits you.'

She sobered at once, remembering Ross in the room above their heads. 'Were you very close as boys?' she asked. 'Close enough, I suppose, considering the nine-year gap. I have a lot to thank him for. When Dad died he left us without a bean. It was Ross who put me through college and got me in line for this job. Given the chance I'd probably have turned out a real layabout. That's what Mom used to say.' His voice was matter-of-fact. 'With her it was always Ross.' Tipping the tomatoes on to a warm dish, he added, 'Are you going to call him or shall I?' The opening of the outer door came synonymously with the last question. Ross stood on the threshold, brows lifting sardonically as he studied the two startled faces turned towards him. 'Gall me what?' he asked, and bent down to ease off his shoes. 'Cold out there this morning. My feet feel like a couple of blocks. Would one of you like to throw me my slippers? They're under the table.' Julia flipped the switch for the percolator before going over to retrieve the brown corded footwear. 'I didn't know you'd gone out,' she said. 'So I gathered.' He said it without particular expression. 'Dogs are demanding creatures. I seem to have timed it quite nicely, though.' 'Dave did the cooking,' she disclaimed, and he glanced across at his brother. 'You're going to be handy to have around. Hope it tastes as good as it smells. I've worked up quite an appetite.' Seated, he said, 'How about a trip into town this morning? I've a call to make at eleven, but I could meet you two for lunch.'

'Sounds like a good idea.' It was David who spoke, his voice as casual as his brother's. 'How about Luigi's? Is he still in business?' 'So far as I know. Haven't been near the place this year.' 'A little Italian restaurant off down one of the side streets near the city centre,' David explained to Julia. 'Used to be tremendously popular; the food was superb. We could try it, if you want to.' 'Why shouldn't she want to?' The question was lightly put, but there was a suggestion of inflexibility in Ross's jawline. 'It's only a meal.' 'And a change is as good as a rest.' It took an effort to be flippant, but she made it. 'You'll have to show me the town, David. Who knows, I might even recognize some of it!' 'The blind leading the blind. I'm not so hot on remembering things myself. Maybe we should hire a guide. Any suggestions, Ross?' 'You'll cope,' was the unhelpful reply. 'It's only for a couple of hours.' The meal over, Julia washed up and stacked the dishes to drain, then went up to change. She chose a fine heather tweed suit which she had had for years, pulled on a warm sweater and ran a brush over her hair. Applying lipstick, she found herself actually looking forward to the coming outing, relishing the thought of getting away from the cottage for a brief while, with David to act as a buffer between her and Ross. The latter had been right about one thing, she could relax with his brother. There was a kind of comfort in that knowledge. They went in the Consul, leaving David's hired convertible in the garage. Ross dropped them off in the town centre after arranging to meet them at one o'clock in Luigi's, David having confirmed the continuing existence of the restaurant by way of a telephone call before leaving the house. Standing there with him on the edge of the

crowded pavement as the car lost itself in the morning traffic again, Julia knew an overwhelming sense of release. The scene about her meant nothing, but for once it didn't seem to matter all that much. She turned a smiling face on her companion. 'Where do we go first?' 'Shopping?' he suggested, and laughed as her nose wrinkled. 'I thought all women liked going through the stores.' 'Don't generalize,' she said. 'It's a fine day. Let's walk somewhere.' They did walk, seemingly for miles. Walked and talked. Somehow Julia found herself recounting the days of her childhood, laughing over the hopes and aspirations of twelve and thirteen. 'It was such a no-man's-land,' she said at one point. 'Too old for dolls, not quite old enough for any other kind of outlet. I was lucky in having a father who was capable of understanding my moods and dealing with them. He more than made up for not having a mother any more.' 'He never thought of marrying again?' 'He never wanted to. We had each other. It was enough.' 'Would you have accepted a stepmother?' 'I've told you, the question didn't arise. He was perfectly happy as he was.' They had come out opposite dock gate 7 and the Mecca Ballroom. By common consent they turned to the left and strolled in silence for the space of a few minutes until Julia suddenly said:

'Did you always want to be an engineer, David, or did Ross decide for you?' He glanced at her sharply. 'What makes you ask?' 'Something you said this morning about having a lot to thank him for. You sounded ... well, just faintly resentful.' 'I did? I wasn't aware of it.' Right now he sounded plain rueful. 'I suppose, basically, I've always had a sneaking envy of Ross, being the eldest and all that. I ran a bit wild after Dad died. Got in with the wrong crowd and eventually had trouble with the police. Ross got me off the hook by accepting responsibility for my future behaviour, and made dam sure that I knuckled down to some real work after that.' He shrugged. 'He was twenty-three to my fourteen. I listened to him because what he said made sense, but I didn't like doing it. It's only in these last few years that I've come to realize just what he did do for me.' 'But deep down you still hate the thought of being in his debt,' she hazarded, and he laughed suddenly. 'Hey, stop trying to psycho-analyse me! I'm not all that complicated.' 'Sorry.' Her smile was wry. 'If there's anyone round here who needs analysis, it's me.' 'How come? You had a knock on the head which temporarily blocked off some of your memory cells, as the profession would say. That doesn't make you a couch case. According to what Ross told me the doctors did say, there's a good chance of a complete recovery at any time.' 'They've been saying that since the moment I woke up in hospital. I don't think they believe it any more than I do - or Ross either, for that

matter.' She was watching the pavement, unconsciously playing the childhood game of avoiding the cracks. 'What else did he tell you?' 'What else should he have told me? He's not the kind to discuss personal problems with anyone else.' He hesitated. 'It doesn't take any particular perception to work out that you're only living together in name at present. It must be a hell of a strain.' 'For Ross?' 'For you both. Are you quite sure I'm not going to be in the way?' 'Quite sure.' She looked up to smile at him. 'You've already ..She broke off as a clock began to strike somewhere. 'That's never one o'clock already!' 'It is,' he confirmed, consulting his watch. 'And we must be quite some distance from Luigi's. We'd better get a taxi.' That was easier said than done. By the time they eventually alighted outside the restaurant it was approaching the half hour. Ross sat alone at the table reserved for them, a drink before him. 'Sorry,' David offered as they came up. 'We walked down by the docks and forgot the time. Have you ordered?' 'Not yet.' Ross's eyes were on Julia. 'You look brighter. Obviously the change did you good. Are you going to have a drink before we eat?' She started to shake her head, then abruptly changed her mind. 'I'll have a dry Martini, please.' 'Whisky and water for me.' David sat down and looked round. 'The old place hasn't changed much. I only hope the food is still as good. Let's see, the last time I came here was...'

'With Lou,' put in his brother evenly as he paused. 'That time you brought her down here for a long weekend. Have you heard from her recently?' 'Oh, there was a card from a place somewhere in Italy round about the end of September. Nothing since.' The words were casual, but there was a slight edge to his voice. 'She was there on a business trip.' 'With her husband?' 'No, alone. I rather gathered from her last letter that the marriage wasn't working out too well.' 'No? Too bad. Planning to see her this leave?' Two pairs of identical grey eyes met and clashed. 'I thought about it. Anyone can make a mistake.' 'Sure.' There was cynicism in Ross's smile. 'And it's always handy to have a spare string around, just in case.' 'That's hardly fair. She hasn't suggested we meet.' 'No, well, she'll need to be persuaded, won't she? Don't be a fool, Dave. You were well out of it when she ditched you for this other man.' 'So you said at the time.' David's mouth was tight. 'The trouble with you is that you want to tar and feather all brunettes after ...' He stopped, changed colour, glanced at Julia and said uncomfortably, 'We're upsetting your wife. How about leaving it till later.' 'We can leave it, period. You're right. You're old enough to make your own mistakes.' Ross picked up his glass and drained it, set it down again and looked impatiently across the room. 'Where the devil is that waiter!'

The meal, when it eventually came, was excellent, but Julia wasn't hungry. Back at the car she suggested that both men ride together in the front, and slid into the back seat before anyone could demur. Her head ached with a throbbing intensity which drew her brows together. She rested it against the leather of the seat back and pretended to fall asleep rather than make the effort of conversation. 'Sorry about what I said back there,' offered David in low tones after a few minutes' travelling. 'Kind of hitting below the belt.' 'I asked for it.' Ross changed gear to take the hill, added evenly, 'Forget it.' They might forget it; Julia couldn't. Ross hadn't liked his brother's fiancée, that much was clear. And why? Because she had reminded him of someone he had once known himself? Someone he had loved and who had let him down? Her lips felt cold. Was that something she really wanted to know? The week-end went through its phases. On Sunday it poured with rain all day, confining the three of them to the house and their own devices. Immediately after lunch, Ross disappeared into the little room leading off the hall which he used as a study-cum-office, stating that he had some paperwork to complete regarding yesterday's call. Lounging lazily in front of the blazing logs, Julia chatted with David in desultory fashion for a while before coming round eventually to a more personal basis. 'Do you think you'll stay out East when this contract expires?' she asked. 'Or is it just a step in the right direction?' He smiled, hands tucked behind his head in an attitude of total relaxation. 'Just now I'm a relatively minor cog in a very big wheel. I'll take what's going when the time comes, but I'm not making any ambitious plans.'

'That's rather a negative way of looking at things.' 'Possibly. You might call it my way of insuring against disappointment. No plans, no let-downs.' 'Does that,' she asked carefully, 'include Lou?' His position didn't alter, though it was a moment or two before he answered. 'I haven't given it all that much thought, if the truth were known. Ross caught me on the raw yesterday. I'm not even sure I feel anything for her any more.' 'You write to her.' 'She writes to me, and I answer. There's a difference. We were pretty close at one time, and she obviously needs someone to confide in.' He paused, added evenly, 'Or do you see it the way Ross sees it?' 'I'm not sitting in judgment on someone I've never even met.' For some reason her throat had gone uncomfortably dry, and she could feel the pulse throbbing at her temple. 'I wouldn't have, would I?' 'Met Lou?' He considered her. 'It's possible, I suppose, but unlikely. Why?' 'I'm not... sure.' She put up a hand and pressed it momentarily against her temple, gave him an uncertain little smile. 'It's just that her name seems almost to mean something - like that feeling you get when you waken up and can't quite remember what it was you were dreaming about.' She shook her head. 'If we had met Ross would have mentioned it. Before yesterday I'd never heard him use her name. He .... he didn't like her very much, I gathered.'

'Because of the way she broke things off. I suppose a letter was the easy way out.' He shrugged. 'Basically we were never suited. I think I knew that from the start, only I wasn't prepared to admit it. Lou needs a man who'll stand up to her. I couldn't.' 'She sounds a little bit hard,' Julia said softly, and he gave her a wry smile. 'That's what Ross said, only a bit more crudely. I think his actual words were "She's out for what she can get." ' David paused, listening. 'Isn't that a car?' It was a car. Julia could hear it herself now. She came upright in her chair and glanced at her watch. Half past three. Certainly the right time for Sunday afternoon callers, though hardly the weather. The familiar sense of panic began to rise in her throat. 'Don't look like that.' David's voice understanding. 'They're only people.'

held

sympathy

and

A door opened out in the hall. Julia got up and went through to where Ross stood in front of the brass-edged mirror straightening his tie. 'There's a car coming along the lane,' she said. 'I know,' he returned steadily. 'It's Peggy and Mike Ashley - probably our closest friends. They'll not stay long.' 'Yes, but.. .' 'But what? You have to start seeing people again some time, and the sooner the better.' He looked at her and his voice softened. 'All right, so there's bound to be a slight awkwardness at first, no matter how much we all try to avoid it, but it will pass. Can't you make the effort, for my sake if not for your own?'

She said huskily, 'You don't seem to have left me much choice, do you?' and saw his face close up again. 'No, well, perhaps that's the best way with you.' Car doors were banging and feet hurrying up the path. Without another glance at her, Ross went to the door and opened it to admit two laughing figures huddled together under a man's nylon raincoat. 'Forgot the umbrella,' gasped Peggy, tossing off the coat to reveal a head of red curls and an unashamedly freckled but attractive face. 'It's raining cats and dogs out there!' Her glance went beyond Ross and sobered just a little. 'Hallo, Julia. Lovely to see you.' Julia swallowed, and wished with all her heart that she could find something familiar about these two who had been her friends during those forgotten months. But there was nothing. 'Hallo,' she said. Ross had been right, of course. The first few minutes were the worst. David had never met the Ashleys, and during the subsequent introductions and explanations, Julia found herself able to stand back and recall what little Ross had mentioned about them. Mike was in the building trade, a big heavily built man in his early thirties who looked as though he would be at home on the Rugby field - an impression confirmed when he began an enthusiastic account of the previous day's game. Peggy was perhaps three or four years older than Julia herself, and ran a boutique in Southampton. Vitality bubbled from her. 'We're not going to spend the whole afternoon talking about the game, I hope,' she exclaimed, raising her eyes heavenward in despair. 'What would I give for a husband who put his feet up on Saturdays! You've no idea ...' addressing Ross ... 'what I have to put up with. I've

even had to engage a part-time manageress so that I can follow the team around.' Ross was grinning. 'You could always let him go on his own.' 'Not likely! Too many temptations. To have and to hold, I said when I married him.' 'What about honour and obey?' inquired her husband mildly, and received a snort. 'I never! We had it missed out. A partnership, we said. Equality in all things!' 'With some more equal than others.' He turned back to Ross. 'As I was saying, there was the ball just about in my hands, and me only five yards from touch when this big ape of a scrum half came ...' 'Hopeless,' said Peggy to Julia resignedly. 'And Ross is as bad, encouraging him. Remember that week-end in July when we all ...' She broke off, said ruefully, 'I'm sorry. I usually manage to put my foot in it somehow.' 'It doesn't matter,' Julia assured her swiftly. 'Tell me what you were going to say.' Her smile was only faintly wavery. 'The week-end we all...?' 'Well, we took a picnic tea over to Emery Downs and these two finished up playing cricket with a crowd of boys while we sat around twiddling our thumbs. Mind you, Ross could play that game with one hand tied behind his back and still do better at it than Mike.' Her glance went to David sitting at Julia's side on the settee. 'Do you play too?'

'Not as well as Ross, though I've had my moments of glory,' he returned. 'I hear the village made top of the local league again this year?' 'And all due to its captain. A complete waste, of course. He could have made a career of it if he'd made the least bit of effort in his younger days.' 'Which he didn't, and wouldn't again if he had the choice,' put in the subject under review equably. 'I'm strictly a spare time bat.' He grinned as Peggy opened her mouth. 'You do if you dare!' She widened her eyes at him innocently. 'I was merely going to say that modesty becomes you. Why do you have such a suspicious mind?' Listening to them, Julia was aware of a tightness in her chest. This was a different Ross from the one she had known during these weeks. When had he looked at her with the tolerant affection with which he obviously regarded Peggy. When had he last looked as relaxed as he did at this moment? Conscience smote her. When had she given him the motive, if it came to that? She bit her lip hard and glanced across at him, met the steady grey gaze and felt herself go pink. Could he guess what was going through her mind? Was that his intention, to arouse her to jealousy by playing up deliberately to a very attractive woman? She got to her feet. 'I'll go and put the kettle on. It must be almost four o'clock.' Peggy followed her through the kitchen, pausing in the doorway uncertainly. 'Can I help?'

'If you want to.' Julia summoned a smile. 'I suppose you know where things are.' 'Mostly.' There was a further moment of indecision before the other said frankly, 'I'm not the world's best at being tactful, so I'll just say it as I feel it. We're both of us cut up about what's happened to you, Julia, and if there's anything at all we can do to help you only have to say. You might not remember it, but we were friends - good friends all of us. Can't we kind of start again on that basis?' Julia stood with the kettle in her hand looking at her for a long moment. 'You know,' she said slowly, 'you're the first person who hasn't tried to make out that I'll suddenly recover from this thing. Everyone else seems bent on the temporary theme.' 'I can't see much point in waiting for something that might or might not happen. Life's too short.' The ready anile widened Peggy's lips. 'The cliché queen, as your husband would say.' 'You seem to get on very well with Ross.' Julia hadn't meant to say that, but somehow it was out before she could stop it. 'Yes, I do.' Peggy's gaze was unwavering. 'Only don't get it wrong. Ross enjoys taunting, and that's as far as it goes. Even if I didn't happen to be quite goofy about my own man underneath all that guff, I wouldn't stand a chance with Ross while ever you're around.' 'You've known him a long time?' 'Not all that long. A little over a year perhaps, since Mike went into business on his own. We only came to these parts ourselves a couple of years back. Not a bad part of the country, is it?' Julia smiled. 'I haven't seen all that much of it yet - I mean, this time round. We went into Southampton yesterday, and I enjoyed that.'

'We'll have to arrange to meet for lunch like we used to. Friday was our big day out. Best bib and tucker and a nice fat cheque book to go at. Penalty day, Mike called it. Would you come?' 'Why not?' Julia's heart had lightened immeasurably. How could she have been so stupid about seeing these people? No wonder Ross had finally lost patience and taken matters into his own hands. 'I'd like it very much.' 'Good.' Peggy moved briskly across to open the cupboard door and start taking down crockery. 'I'll set out the tray.' The Ashleys left at five-thirty, borrowing an umbrella to get them through the unremitting downpour to the car. Julia watched them out of sight from the doorway, vibrantly aware of the man at her side. For the first time she was beginning to feel some measure of security in his presence, some real belief in the extent of his feelings for her. She hadn't been fair to him. She hadn't given him a chance. He loved her, and she had loved him. Would it be so difficult to recapture that emotion if she gave herself the chance?

CHAPTER FIVE JULIA was glad to have David around that following week. She had had enough of being alone so much of the day. He was an excellent house-guest, tidy and thoughtful, an easy companion with whom she felt no sense of strain. They went for long walks together, took a trip down to Lymington with Shan blowing happily down their necks from the back seat of the convertible, laughed a great deal and talked about nothing in particular. There was a lot Julia would have liked to know about Ross, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. If she was going to learn more about the man she had married at all, then it had to be from the source itself. Which was easier thought than done. If Ross had any objection to the amount of time she was spending with his brother he concealed it very well. On the odd times when they were left alone together he seemed to make a particular effort to keep the atmosphere between them strictly impersonal. Julia wasn't at all sure how to handle the situation, how to create the relaxation which was a necessary prelude to any kind of closer relationship. And yet the need for something more than they had grew stronger all the time, colouring her days and keeping her tossing and restless in the empty double bed each night. She understood, or thought she understood, that the body might remember what the mind did not, but it didn't help to acknowledge that physical hunger could come before, or even without love, when all her life she had believed wholeheartedly in the romantic notions of love, desire, marriage and fulfilment in that order and no other. Inevitably, as the days passed, she began to see in David all the qualities seemingly lacking in his brother. He was light-hearted, he was good company, he was solicitous of her feelings, and any cynicism he might have gathered during his twenty-six years he kept firmly under lock and key. They sailed amicably through the waking hours, on the same wavelength, content to do the same things. A perfect partner, Julia told herself often, closing her mind to the faint

sense of frustration which sometimes accompanied his willing acceptance of all her suggestions. Oddly enough, it was on those same occasions that something her father had once said seemed always to spring to mind: 'A woman always knows just what it is she wants of a man until she gets it.' In some ways her father had been rather like Ross, she supposed, looking back on things now. A man who let little of what he was thinking or feeling escape to the surface unless forced into a corner. Peggy rang on the Thursday evening to ask if Julia would meet her in town the following day for lunch. Julia's hesitation was brief enough to be almost nonexistent for once. She needed the change, and Peggy seemed one person with whom she could perhaps be totally herself for the first time since Ross had brought her back from the hospital. It was an odd, unnatural life she had been leading these last few weeks, how odd and unnatural she didn't fully realize until that Friday lunchtime when she met Peggy in the foyer of the small but exclusive hotel. 'You didn't bring David, then?' was Peggy's first remark after greeting her. 'I was rather afraid you might feel obliged, him being a guest and all that.' 'No, he thought he might be odd man out,' Julia returned smilingly. 'He's like that. Very understanding.' 'Really?' Peggy lifted beautifully shaped brows. 'How very unusual in a man. Give Mike the chance to squire two women to lunch and it wouldn't matter how much they might want to be alone. Totally insensitive to that kind of atmosphere is my beloved swain! How about a drink before we go in?' 'I wouldn't mind a dry sherry.'

'Always adventurous.' There was no malice in the remark. 'I need something stronger than that after a morning in that hell's kitchen of mine. You know, when I was a teenager - and that isn't so long ago, heaven help us - I thought myself lucky if I had twenty pounds a year to spend on clothes. Now they spend that in a morning and think nothing of it. Not that I should grumble. It's just that sometimes I get the feeling I was born about fifteen years too soon!' 'Fifteen?' Julia queried in genuine bewilderment, and received a glowing regard. 'I should have kept quiet, I'd forgotten you didn't know my advantage - Ross being the gentleman he is. How old would you say I am?' 'Twenty-seven, perhaps.' 'I'm thirty-two, and sometimes feel every minute of it. But not today, thank goodness.' She flicked up a hand and summoned a waiter, gave their order and sat back in her seat to survey her companion. 'I must say, you're looking better than you did on Sunday last. At the risk of being thought an insensitive soul myself, do I put that down to Ross, or his brother?' 'David is a wonderful person,' she hedged. 'He's been very good to me this last week.' 'I should think he has! You're the kind most men would like to be good to given the opportunity. Personally, he struck me as a rather insipid character - compared with Ross. No get up and go.' 'He's out East for three years. I wouldn't call that sitting back on one's heels.' 'Ah yes, but what reason is he out there for? A broken engagement. He should have joined the Foreign Legion. That at least smacks of

drama!' Peggy grinned. 'Don't mind me. I'm not half the cynic I make out. Call it a defence mechanism, if you like. Being normally adjusted cuts no ice these days.' Julia had to laugh. 'Is it so important to be "in" with the younger generation?' 'Important? It's my secret of success! You'd be amazed at the stuff I get to hear in the fitting-room.' 'You have a fitting-room in a boutique?' That's my other secret of success. The kids do appreciate a good style and fit, regardless of what the magazines try to make out. I do alterations for free up to fifty pence, and charge a percentage over that. You'd be amazed at the numbers who find their way to my backstreet place of business.' She shook her head. 'Don't sidetrack. I assume there's no change in matters of greater moment?' 'No.' Julia was glad at that moment of the arrival of the waiter with their drinks. When he had gone she looked across at Peggy and smiled. 'What shall we drink to?' 'How about the future?' Something inside her seemed to open suddenly and expand. 'All right. The future. I hope it works.' 'It will.' Peggy sounded supremely confident, even while her smile was pure mischief. 'Where there's a will there's a way!' They were still laughing when her glance went beyond Julia to the door and altered. 'Oh, lord,' she said. 'Here comes trouble unless I'm very much mistaken!' She looked back at Julia, said swiftly, 'There's a joint

acquaintance approaching fast with a definite gleam in his eye. With any luck we can bluff our way through. Are you willing to leave it to me?' 'Yes.' Julia daren't turn round to see who the intruder was — not that it would probably have served her to any great advantage if she had. 'I can't bear the thought of any explaining.' 'That's what I thought.' Peggy's expression had firmed. 'Don't worry about it. I can handle Lester Connelly.' The man, whoever he was, arrived at Julia's bade to stop with his hands resting on the back of her chair. A voice, confident, calculatedly masculine and wholly suggestive, said easily, 'Long time no see! That's certainly one way of keeping a man on the hook. How are you two lovelies keeping these days?' 'Fit and content.' It was Peggy who answered for them both. 'This isn't one of your usual haunts, is it, Lester?' 'From which I gather that if it was you might have second thoughts about it being one of your own,' he returned smoothly. 'I love this act you put on, Peg. It's a sure-fire winner!' 'One thing I'll grant you,' was the calm reply, 'you're not easily put down. What are you doing here, anyway?' 'Meeting a client. One of the more conventional ones, I need hardly add.' There was a slight pause, and Julia could feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck. 'Am I in the doghouse, then?' She forced herself to turn her head slowly, and saw a man of medium height and slim build whose wavy dark hair and dashing moustache epitomized his type to perfection. Perhaps it was having Peggy sitting

there which gave her the control; there wasn't even a trace of a tremor in her voice as she said, 'Why should you think that?' His brows rose as he studied her face. 'A little different from the last time we met. Changed your mind about me, have you?' 'I'm not sure,' she said with truth, 'that I ever made it up.' 'On the face of it I'd have said so.' He looked somewhat disgruntled. 'Unwilling as I am to admit it, there are some women I just can't fathom!' Peggy snorted. 'Unwilling as you are to admit it, that applies to most. Cut along, boyo. We don't want to know!' He cut along, like a lamb. Faced with Peggy's brand of derision, Julia felt she would have done the same. 'What did he mean?' she asked uncertainly. 'Did ... something happen the last time we met?' 'Not really.' Peggy looked as if she were trying to sort out which way to put something without being misunderstood. 'The last time you saw Lester you gave him just a wee bit more encouragement than you had previously, that's all.' 'You mean I flirted with him?' 'I wouldn't put it as strongly as that. It's just that our Les reads a great deal into very little.' She added frankly, 'Look, Julia, it was a bad night all round. You don't want reminding of it, I'm sure.' Julia looked down at her sherry with a sudden fast beating heart. 'If there's anything at all that concerns me, then obviously I must know. Tell me about it, Peggy. Please.'

The other shrugged. 'Well, all right, but there's nothing very much to tell. When you came to the house it was fairly apparent that you and Ross had had a row - to me, that is; I don't know about anyone else. When Lester made his usual hopeful approach you didn't immediately freeze him off for once, and he being the lad he is immediately took it as a breakthrough and commandeered you for the rest of the evening. That really is all.' Julia digested it in silence for several minutes before saying quietly, 'And Ross? What did he have to say about it?' 'Not a great deal in front of the rest of us. Quite a bit, I imagine, when you were alone. He can't stand Lester. Few men can. Can't think why he gets invited to our do's, except that he's always been a part of the crowd already established when we came down here.' 'And when was all this?' Peggy stared at her. 'You mean Ross didn't tell you?' 'Tell me what?' 'That it was our party you were on your way home from when the accident happened. How odd! I'd have thought ...' She stopped lifted her shoulders and smiled. 'It's not so important, I suppose.' It mightn't seem so to Peggy, it certainly did to Julia. On the night of the accident she and Ross had quarrelled, not once but probably twice. And as a direct result of the first, it seemed, she had deliberately led on the man who had just left them, a man she could surely have felt no more attraction to then than she had now. She had to talk to Ross, she thought urgently. She had to know what had passed between them before their arrival at the party and afterwards in the car going home. It had suddenly become imperative for her to know.

She was relieved when Peggy made no attempt to prolong the afternoon beyond the meal, apparently accepting it as natural that she should be meeting David for the drive home. Julia was, but not until four. She said good-bye to Peggy in the forecourt, promising to keep in touch, and got into the taxi ordered for her by the hotel receptionist, ostensibly to take her to her rendezvous with David. The office was situated not far from the town centre, a double-fronted building set in the middle of a block of shops, with a couple of storeys above it. Julia paid off the taxi-driver with her heart already beating fast, and stood for a moment surveying the two windows with their many and varied offerings. Several people were doing the same, one young couple standing with arms entwined before a photograph of a chalet-type bungalow with resignation colouring their obvious longing. 'We'll be luck if you get a terrace house with what we can put down,' murmured the girl despondently, and the young man at her side squeezed her arm. 'And what's wrong with that for a start? Anyway, Mr. Mannering said he'll do his best to find us somewhere else as nice as that.' So Ross was in. Julia hadn't paused to consider that he might not be. The urge which had brought her this far was dying now, the temptation to turn tail and leave it all for another time growing by the second. She was still standing there irresolutely in front of the window when the door opened and Ross himself came out. He saw her immediately, his face revealing a brief flash of an emotion Julia couldn't quite read before reverting to its normal controlled lines. 'Why didn't you come in?' he asked. 'Have you been here long?'

She shook her head. 'I only just arrived.' She was thankful that there was no one near enough to witness her awkwardness as she added, 'I - I want to talk to you, Ross - if it's convenient.' This time his expression revealed nothing. 'We'll make it convenient,' he said, and turned back to push open the door for her. The girl sitting at the desk a few feet away looked up with a smile as they entered. 'Quick trip,' she said, then her eyes fell on Julia and the smile faded a little. 'Hallo, Mrs. Mannering.' Ross tossed his briefcase on to a corner of the desk. 'Ring the Fallows and tell them I'll be along in a little while, will, you, Chris. We'll be up in the flat if I'm wanted.' Julia managed what she hoped was a natural smile at the girl as he drew her past and through a door set in the rear wall. Beyond was an office of the conventional type, with a large desk and swivel chair and a set of filing cabinets on the close-carpeted floor, and beyond that again a narrow corridor from which a flight of stairs ran up and back to the private premises. The flat was pleasant if undeniably small, a single room with a bed which pulled down from a unit in the wall, plus a separate kitchenette and bathroom. Seeing it, Julia could quite understand why Ross had deemed it necessary to move on acquiring a dog, although it would have been perfectly adequate for his bachelor needs. 'Coffee?' he asked, and she shook her head. 'No, I had some with Peggy.' She waited no longer but plunged straight in. 'A man called Lester Connelly came into the hotel while we were having a drink before lunch.' 'I see.' His regard had sharpened. 'What happened?'

'Nothing. Peggy handled everything beautifully. I don't think he guessed anything was wrong, except...' 'Except?' he prompted. He was standing a few feet away with his hands thrust into his pockets in the stance she was beginning to recognize as his only intimation of inner disturbance - a kind of forcible calmness, if there was such a thing. 'Except that he seemed rather put out by the fact that I'd gone cool on him since the last time we met,' she said, and was unconscious of her own hands clasped tightly in front of her, the thumbs twisting and rubbing each other. 'Peggy said we'd arrived at the house that night on rather bad terms - you and I, that is - and that I encouraged this man all evening. Why didn't you tell me that it was the Ashleys' party we were at that night?' 'Why?' He shrugged. 'Why haven't I told you a whole lot of things? When have I had the chance?' She said defensively, 'You could have made the chance if you'd wanted to.' 'From which I gather you think I didn't want to?' His tone was odd. 'What reason do you think I might have for keeping things like that from you, Julia?' 'I don't know.' The strength of her own feelings on the whole episode had diminished until she was having to fight to keep them alive at all. She sat down suddenly on the settee. 'I'm not sure exactly what I did have in mind when I came here. It was shock, I suppose. The idea of having given a man like that the impression that I. .. that we...' 'That you nothing!' he said fiercely. 'Les Connelly reads too much into too little. Even if you were indulging in a mild party flirtation

that night it was expecting a great deal to assume that the mood would have lasted a month or more.' 'But it wasn't like that, was it?' in husky tones. 'I played up to him because I wanted to get back at you — at least, that's what Peggy thinks.' She looked up at him standing there, tall and lean, familiar yet unfamiliar, and her throat constricted. 'What did we row about that night, Ross?' 'I'm not sure.' He said it evenly and convincingly. 'You were out of sorts for some reason. Not sick, just on edge. I put it down to the usual female tensions and tried to humour you, but you weren't having any. In the car on the way to Peg's you snapped my head off over some perfectly innocent remark, and I lost my temper. I can't recall what I said exactly, but it resulted in your little bit of byplay with Lester.' 'And afterwards?' A muscle jerked suddenly in his jaw. 'Afterwards I gave you hell, I don't mind admitting. If it had been anyone else but Les Connelly ...' He left the sentence there. 'I should have made you fasten your seat belt; I was always having to tell you about it. We were coming up to the turn off for Marlow when you suddenly seemed to lurch sideways. I tried to grab you, but it was too late.' His voice had roughened. 'That following hour I'm not too keen on reliving, if you don't mind. I think I aged about ten years.' 'Ross.' Without knowing how or when she had moved, Julia was on her feet, her heart pounding into her throat. 'Ross, I...' Whatever it was she was going to say she didn't get it finished because he was there in front of her, his arms about her, his lips on hers. Her response was immediate and involuntary, the tension and reticence of weeks dissolving before the stronger emotion of the

moment. But only for a moment. Realization broke her free of him and sent a wave of hot colour sweeping high into her cheeks. This wasn't the answer. Not yet. Not like this. 'Julia.' Ross caught her hand as she made to turn away. 'Don't start running again. I'm not going to get carried away by one kiss, any more than you are.' He put his other hand gently but firmly under her chin and brought her face round towards him again. 'When am I going to convince you that my feelings go deeper than casual passion? I want you, yes, but not until you can feel the same way about me again. Believe me.' 'I want to,' she whispered. 'You don't know how much I want to!' 'Then we're half-way there.' He was smiling. 'In a way I ought to feel grateful to Lester for sending you here this afternoon. If you hadn't seen him we might have gone on skirting round the subject for weeks more. And now that we've got this far, no regressions. Don't shut me out again. I couldn't take it.' 'I won't.' In that moment she was closer to understanding the quality of her original feelings for him than she had been at any other time. He was a man a woman could lean on as well as love. Why hadn't she seen it before? 'What time are you supposed to be meeting Dave?' he asked. She told him, and he glanced at his watch. 'Then we still have a couple of hours. I have to make a call out Botley way. It shouldn't take longer than a few minutes to get through the business side of things, and the countryside round there is worth seeing.' Her smile was bright. 'I'd like that.'

Their destination lay about five miles out of town on a small but well planned estate of semi-detached bungalows which looked fairly recently built. Ross brought the car to a halt outside one bearing a For Sale notice with his name on it, and left her with the promise that he would not be long. Julia didn't mind. This afternoon she didn't mind anything. He was smiling when he came back. 'I've just had my faith in human nature restored,' he remarked as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the kerb. 'Those folk offered to take a cut of a hundred in the selling price rather than disappoint a young couple who can't quite manage the mortgage they were hoping for. More than generous when you consider that they could have sold the place a dozen times over while the building society has been working out the pros and cons.' Julia said carefully, 'Is it businesslike on your part to be so pleased about it? Doesn't it cut down on your commission?' His shrug was careless. 'Not noticeably. They're a nice couple, the Moores, and they'd set their hearts on this place.' He turned the car out on to the main road, and added steadily, 'I've been wondering whether it might be a good idea to move nearer town ourselves. I'd have no trouble finding a buyer for the cottage. What do you think ?' Leave the cottage! Julia knew sudden dismay at the very thought. 'It isn't really up to me,' she said at last. 'It's your house.' 'Ours,' he corrected without taking his eyes off the road. 'I had your name put on the deeds the week after we got back from Austria.' He grinned briefly. 'The kind of mad thing we men tend to do in the first throes. I'm not going to pretend that it wouldn't be a wrench parting with it, but it would only be a temporary thing, and only because I

had such a hand in the renovation. If it's going to help us at all then I shan't hesitate. You only have to say.' 'No.' She said it quickly and firmly. 'I don't want to move. I like the cottage.' He glanced at her. 'You realize that it's going to be even lonelier out there in the winter? Last year we were snowbound. That doesn't put you off?' 'No.' It didn't, because she still couldn't see that far ahead. There was a great deal of lost ground to make up before the winter came, and at that moment she was content to take it one step at a time. 'You were right about the countryside,' she added brightly. 'It is pretty. Do you have another call to make?' 'Not until five. I thought we'd just drive for a while. Okay?' 'Fine.' She leaned her head against the seat rest, feeling the belt secure across her middle. 'Did we often spend afternoons like this when you weren't too busy?' 'Quite often. You had a habit of turning up at the office unexpectedly, like today, and coming along for the ride if I had a client to visit.' 'You didn't mind?' 'That's like asking if I minded being married. I enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed mine.' He slanted a glance at her. 'That's the first time you've shown any real interest in our past time together since the day you came round in hospital.' 'I know.' She searched for the right words, not wanting to let this mood pass. 'It's always been such an odd sort of feeling, as if it were someone else entirely who'd lived at the cottage before me. Someone with my own habits and methods, but a separate person. To ask

questions about her would have seemed ... an intrusion. Does that sound ridiculous?' 'No. I think I'm only just beginning to realize what you've been going through.' There was a car up ahead. Ross pulled out and overtook it, went on softly, 'No matter how hard you try it's near impossible to put yourself in a position your own mind can't even start to grasp. You can read about such things happening to other people, but when it happens to you it all seems so unreal I'm afraid I've been rather more concerned with my own feelings.' 'That's not true,' she said. 'You've been very patient.' 'Because I haven't pressed harder for my marital rights?' He smiled and shook his head. 'Don't think I haven't been tempted. Many's the time I've thought that the strong arm approach might be what was needed to break the ice. A matter of pride. No man likes to think himself so easily forgotten.' The road breasted a hill, and Ross pulled into the side where the grass verge widened. Below lay the full stretch of Southampton Water, with the Solent beyond and the sprawl that was Portsmouth way down on the left. From up here the docks looked like toys, a model landscape beneath a lowering grey sky. 'Quite a view, isn't it?' he remarked. 'Better on a clear day, of course. When the island is misted up like that it usually means rain is on the way.' He reached into a pocket. 'Cigarette?' Julia took one, accepted a light and watched him light up for himself. A month ago she had sat with him like this in the car, her nerves raw, her hand shaking with tension. Today the barrier was still there but no longer unsurmountable. There was a chance for them. A good chance, if they took it slowly and easily. How many women, she

wondered, were given both the opportunity and incentive to fall in love with the same man twice in one lifetime? 'We used to spend most holidays on the island,' she remarked after a while. 'Strange, isn't it, how things map out. I mean, that I should eventually come to live in a part of the country we both loved. It makes you wonder if there might be some truth in that Kismet business after all.' 'No.' His voice was decisive. 'We shape our own lives by what we are.' 'Isn't that more or less the same thing?' 'I don't think so. Realization is the main thing. The shape can be changed if the knowledge comes in time.' He rested one bent elbow on the wheel, body half turned towards her, the cigarette smouldering between his fingers. 'We've a lot of living to do yet, Julia, and it's up to the two of us how we do it. The first fact we have to face is that you might never regain your memory of our first three months together. At the risk of sounding facetious, do you think you could learn to forget that part of it?' 'No,' she said softly. 'But I could learn to live with it, given time. Don't rush me, Ross. That's all I ask.' 'Not a lot, considering.' His smile was just faintly ironic. 'Probably more than I deserve.' He crushed out the cigarette between finger and thumb and restarted the engine. 'Time we were getting back.'

CHAPTER SIX FOR Julia in the days that followed, it was a case of turning her back on the past and trying instead to think of the future, of learning to know the man she had married, of allowing the emotions she had been unable to deny from the beginning to grow and develop as they would. Deep down she was aware of the questions which still remained unanswered, but against these she resolutely closed her mind and heart. It was here and now that had to matter most. The weather continued cool but reasonably dry. With David's help she cleared and tidied the flower beds and borders, and prepared the ground for the spring planting. They lit a fire beyond the willows fringing the pond and burned the leaves swept from the lawns, only to waken next morning to the first of the November gales and a garden full of new debris. 'A waste of energy,' was Ross's totally unsympathetic comment over breakfast. 'Gardening in any shape-or form is like one of the seven labours of Hercules !' 'Not if you enjoy it,' put in David mildly, and drew a quizzical glance. 'Since when did you join the green finger club?' 'Since meeting your wife.' There was an element of challenge in the lifted head. 'There's something rather satisfying in watching things grow and knowing that you've had a hand in it. It makes all the work seem worth while.' The other's regard narrowed a fraction as it rested on the younger man's face. 'You should get married and have a couple of kids,' he said. 'More trouble than plants, perhaps, but a darn sight more

fulfilling.' He didn't look at Julia as he got to his feet. 'I'd better be off. I've a client coming in at nine-thirty.' There was a lengthy silence in the kitchen after he had gone. Clearing the dishes away from the table to the sink, Julia listened to the sound of the engine fading into the distance and thought that something vital went out of the house with Ross each morning. 'Is it time I cleared out?' asked David suddenly, and she turned to look at him in surprise and puzzlement. 'I thought you were staying till the week-end.' 'I was.' He twisted the cup between his hands, watching the dregs swirl in the bottom. 'Only I've a feeling I'm beginning to outstay my welcome - where Ross is concerned, at any rate.' 'That's ridiculous,' she came back warmly. 'Of course he wants you to stay.' 'Yes?' He looked up at her. 'You know him so well?' Julia flushed. 'Better than I did. Well enough, anyway, to know that he doesn't pretend about things like that. If he wanted you to leave he'd say so, and you know that.' 'Like I said, it's just a feeling. I could be wrong. Not that I could complain. It's only natural for a husband to want his wife to himself.' He pushed back his chair. 'All right,' he added cheerfully, 'so we forget it. What's on the agenda for today? Not much use trying to do any more to the garden while this lot carries on.' 'I don't suppose so.' She added wryly, 'I've been using you these last couple of days, David, haven't I? It's hardly a restful way to spend a holiday.'

'I've enjoyed it. It's been fun. We don't have gardens in the desert.' His voice changed. 'We don't have anything much, except sand and sun, and they begin to pall after the first week or so.' 'Do you have to go back?' 'No, I could always throw in my job. Alternatively I could go back and then apply for a transfer. We recently made a North Sea strike, and I heard a murmur that they'll fairly shortly be wanting another engineer in my grade. It might be worth thinking about. On the other hand, I'll probably get back there and settle straight down to routine. You only realize what you're missing when there's a comparison to hand.' He pursed his lips into a soundless whistle, chased a crumb around his plate with a finger end, said suddenly, 'Look, if you've no other plans for today, how about finding out if that farm down the road does have a couple of horses for hire? I rather fancy a good gallop.' 'I didn't know you rode,' she said with interest. He grinned. 'Like my cooking, it'd hardly pass muster with the experts. We keep a few of the desert ponies at the station for recreational purposes and emergencies, to quote. It's good exercise, and they can usually be relied on to find their own way back to base. If you'd rather not just say so.' 'I think it's a good idea. It's ages since I was last up on a horse. Even longer,' with a smile, 'than I remember. Just give me time to change into something suitable and we'll get off. If the farm fails us I'm sure we can find a stable somewhere.' The farm, as it happened, did not fail them. They were able to supply a couple of geldings at a very fair hiring fee.

'Belong to my sons, they do,' confided the farmer. 'Don't get much use, them being away so much these days.' He didn't say where. 'Had to start hiring 'em out to help pay for their keep. Mighty expensive eaters are horses.' He handed Julia the reins of the bay and David the chestnut. 'Might find 'em a bit frisky at first, like, as they didn't get out yesterday. Soon run it off. Keep Champion away from traffic, if you can,' he added to Julia. 'Doesn't much care for cars passing him close, that one. Apart from that he's a lovely ride.' Julia wasn't so sure. There was something in the way the bay had rolled his eyes at her when she took the reins which did not instil confidence in a comparative beginner at the art, and he was such a big animal. The fact that David's mount was even larger was little comfort. David had ridden Arab ponies, and they were well known for their mettle, while the sum total of her experience was confined to a docile eight-year-old one had had to coax a canter from. The wind didn't help either. Although the force had dropped considerably since dawn, it was still strong enough to bring tears to her eyes when she faced directly into it, and cold enough to make the anorak she was wearing seem paper-thin. Sensing her lack of certainty, Champion began taking liberties the moment they got out on the road, shying at a branch waving in the wind, at an open gate creaking on its hinges, at his own shadow springing suddenly to life in a brief burst of sunshine. 'Keep him on a firm rein,' David advised. 'Let him know who's boss.' 'He does,' she returned ruefully. 'What's more, so do I! I'm sorry, David. This can't be very much fun for you. Why don't you go on a bit?' 'And leave you on your own with that mutt?' He shook his head. 'I'm not that fanatical about getting in a gallop. Anyway, he'll probably settle down soon. It could be just road work that bugs him.'

By the time they reached the bridle path through the woods the bay did seem to have quietened down a little, and Julia found the nerve to follow David first into a trot and then into a slow canter. In here among the trees it was a great deal warmer. Leaves lay thickly on the ground, the top layer still amber fresh and clean, the lower giving off a pleasant peaty smell when disturbed. Apart from the occasional call of a bird all was silent, serene. 'One of the great things about England is that you're never more than a few miles away from civilization,' David remarked when they stopped in a clearing to give the animals a rest. 'The desert is so monotonous as well as lonely. After a while you get to almost believing that there's nothing out there any more, that the whole world consists of sand.' He glanced at her, his smile self-conscious. 'Sounds fanciful, doesn't it? It's hard to explain that kind of feeling in any sane or sensible fashion.' 'I know what you mean,' she said softly, and hesitated. 'I think you should do something about changing things, David. And now rather than later. Can't you start things moving while you're here in the country?' 'I could try.' He didn't sound too hopeful. 'Depends on whether I can be replaced fairly quickly.' 'You've changed yourself since you arrived,' she said. 'That first afternoon you seemed so enthusiastic about everything - even the desert.' 'I expect I was trying to convince myself. Trouble is I went out there for all the wrong reasons. It might have taken me longer to get over Lou by staying here, but at least I'd have been living a normal life with only occasional forays to other parts. I had a good thing going in the job I had then, only I didn't give that factor enough consideration.' He gathered up the reins decisively. 'And that's enough about me for

today. That chap at the farm said he had another ride booked for eleven.' It was five minutes to the hour when they eventually reached the road again, and a reluctance to keep people waiting, plus the fact that Champion hadn't acted up in any way during the last half hour made Julia just that bit careless. The car passed them at only a moderate speed, but the sound and wind of its passing was more than enough for the bay. Julia made a frantic grab for the pommel as the horse plunged forward, felt her feet slip from the stirrups and saw the grass of the hedge bottom coming up to meet her. She was still lying there winded when David reached her. 'Julia!' he said urgently. 'Julia!' She rolled slowly over and sat up, feeling his arm come round her shoulders in support. 'If I can't fall out of a thing I can always fall off it,' she said ruefully. 'It's all right, I'm not hurt, apart from my pride. I don't think I'll ever be much of ...' Her eyes came up and met his and the smile died on her lips. When he kissed her she was aware only of confusion. 'I'm sorry,' he said, colouring. 'I know I shouldn't have done that, only I couldn't help it. Seeing you lying there I thought... Oh lord, I don't know what I thought! All I do know is that if anything had happened to you . ..' His arm tightened about her. 'I've known I was going to fall in love with you ever since that first afternoon when we talked and drank coffee in the kitchen. No, before that. The moment I came round the corner of the house and saw you standing there with a trowel in your hand and a streak of dirt right across your nose.' 'I think,' Julia said unsteadily, 'I'd better get up.'

David gave her a hand and stood watching her as she automatically brushed herself down. 'Are you angry with me for telling you?' he asked. 'No.' She looked up at last. 'I just think you're a bit mixed up. I think you like me as much as I like you, but you're not in love with me. You've only known me about ten days.' 'That's not true. Ross talked about you in his letters. Little things you'd said or done. That's how I knew how he felt about you. You were always in his mind.' Was, she thought, but how about now? Did Ross really still feel the same, or was he fighting to revive an emotion which had already started to die before the accident? The doubts. The fears. They were still there, despite all her efforts in these last few days to bury them. 'We're going to be very late getting back,' she said, and then as he opened his mouth to speak, 'No, don't say any more. Please, David, don't say any more.' She began walking along the road to where Champion had stopped to nibble unconcernedly at the hedgerow. 'I'll walk him back from here.' They walked both horses back in the end, arriving at the farm to find that the expected customer had failed to turn up after all. It was a very subdued David who opened the car door for Julia and started the engine, and they were half-way back to the cottage before he said without looking at her: 'Taken all round, the best thing I can do is pack my things and get out. I've made a complete mess-up of everything as usual. I never intended you to know how I felt.'

'It might be best.' Julia could think of no other reasonable solution. Whether David was really in love with her or not, the very fact that the words had been said put their relationship on a totally different footing. She could certainly not feel as much at ease with him again, particularly when they were alone. 'When will you go?' 'Now. Today.' He sounded wretched. 'You can tell Ross I decided I'd had enough of the quiet life. He'll accept that. I can always pop down to see him again before I go back.' She glanced at him swiftly and away again. 'Then you will be going back?' 'Yes.' There was a small pause before he went on wryly, 'History repeating itself, you might say. My main reason for not wanting to go was you. I've been living for the moment these last few days.' That made two of them. Julia bit her lip and wished she could turn her mind off again with the same ease with which he had switched it on. She had to believe in Ross. She had to! The security in such belief had become the most important thing in her life. David departed for London directly after lunch, his leave-taking awkward and self-conscious. 'I'm a fool,' he said just before he drove off. 'I've spoiled something special. If I'd kept quiet we could have gone on being friends.' 'We still can,' she returned, and knew as she said it that it couldn't be in quite the same way. She had felt an attraction towards David because in many ways he was like his brother, but it had never at any time been an emotion which sought a response. As things were now her relief at his going outweighed the regret for his loss, although she knew she was going to miss him in the days to come.

It seemed a very long afternoon and a quiet one, despite the wind. Julia was in the kitchen when the telephone rang at three. She lifted the receiver cautiously, and heard Ross's voice with mixed emotions. 'We've been invited out to dinner,' he said. 'You remember the young couple I was talking about on Friday?' 'Grateful clients?' she asked on as light a note as she could manage, and heard him laugh. 'Something like that. Do you like Chinese food?' 'Very much. Is that where we're going?' 'It's what I suggested when they asked. I didn't want to refuse the invite, but the last thing they can afford is an expensive bill at the end of it. We're seeing them for a drink round about seven-thirty. All right?' 'Yes, that's fine.' She hesitated, uncertain of his reaction. 'Ross, David left a little while ago. I think he'd had enough of country life. He's going to stay with a friend of his, he said. In a flat near Lancaster Gate.' She was explaining too much too quickly, she knew, yet couldn't seem to stop herself. 'He said to tell you he'd be in touch.' There was a short silence before Ross said evenly enough, 'Well, that's understandable, I suppose. He was leaving at the week-end, anyway.' It was difficult to decide whether that was a statement or an assumption. 'You might check that my blue suit is fit to wear. I've an idea there was a mark on the lapel the last time I looked at it.' 'You do have others,' she pointed out, and realized suddenly that she was sounding like a wife - any wife mildly exasperated by the typical male assumption that it was her duty to see to such things.

'So I do.' He sounded amused. 'But I want to wear the blue. It goes with your eyes. I'll see you about six, Julia.' Julia was smiling as she put down the receiver. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw her eyes sparkling, and knew that Ross had put that sparkle there. Why did she keep on doubting him? Why should he make believe that he loved her if he didn't when the very circumstances of their relationship would have made it so simple to end it weeks ago? It didn't make any sense. It was the first time she had been very much farther into his room than the doorway. Mrs. Turner did all the washing and ironing and putting away, and frowned upon any attempt at all to help out with the cleaning, obviously seeing it as a slur on her own capabilities. Julia walked across the russet carpet and pulled open the wardrobe door, her pulses quickening as she ran her fingers over the rough tweed of a sports coat which smelled of tobacco and heather when she put her face down close to it. She had seen Ross in it only once, that first week-end. How long ago that seemed now. The blue suit she had never seen him wear. Not that she could remember. She took it out on its hanger and hitched the hook over the door top so that the light fell full on the jacket front. Yes, there was the mark on the left lapel, a pinkish smear at just about the level her own mouth would reach when Ross was wearing it. She looked at it few a long time, trying again to break through the blankness which cloaked her mind. It was hopeless, of course. So far as her memory went those three months still didn't exist. All she knew of them was what she had been told. That was all she might ever know. Resolutely she shook off the sinking feeling that was the beginning of depression, took the suit and made her way back downstairs. There was a bottle of cleaning fluid in the cupboard under the sink. Lipstick shouldn't provide too much of a problem.

It took her just five minutes to get the last traces of grease out of the cloth, and for once she managed it without leaving a telltale ring. Shaking out the jacket to help get rid of the smell, she saw a slip of paper flutter to the floor from the breast pocket and bent down to pick it up. It was a page torn from a diary — a very small diary - and it had a telephone number scrawled across it in an unmistakably feminine hand. Looking at it Julia felt something inside her tighten again. So what? she asked herself fiercely. Ross had many clients, and some of them had to be women. The number had probably been in his pocket for months. She crumpled the page abruptly in her hand, made to toss it into the waste bin, then paused, and instead smoothed it out again carefully. It wasn't hers to throw away. Important or not, she should at least let Ross see it. But how? If she gave it to him herself it might look as if she had been going through his pockets. Perhaps if she put it in his office and let him find it there himself. And watch his reactions when he came out, a small voice whispered, and she sat down suddenly on the nearest chair. This had to stop. This simply had to stop! Wasn't there quite enough to contend with without letting her imagination run riot like this? In the end she put the paper back in the pocket and took the suit upstairs again, hanging it carefully away and closing the door on it. Back in her own room she got out a simple trouser suit in pale amber wool and laid it ready on the bed along with clean underwear and tights. She would have a shower and get ready before Ross came in, leaving the bathroom free for him. Glancing at her watch she was surprised to see that it was still only a little after four o'clock. Two hours to go before Ross was due home, another hour before she need start getting ready herself. She wandered restlessly about the room, looked out of the window at the tossing trees and night-clouding sky and remembered that Shan had

not been taken for his walk due to the ride that morning. That should take care of an hour. The dog greeted her with the relief and enthusiasm of one who had thought himself abandoned and forgotten, bounding on ahead of her through the copse and down the incline to the stream from which was pumped the water for the pond. The wind buffeted her as she came out from among the trees, tearing at her anorak. It was stronger again. They might well be in for another gale tonight, which would certainly finish off what was left of the roses. They'd looked a sorry enough mess this morning. Julia hadn't intended to go far, but Shan apparently had other ideas. For once he ignored her whistle when it came to time to turn back, and loped off into the gathering murk, hot on the trail of something unseen and unheard but obviously scented. She followed him resignedly, aware of the rain coming in on the wind, light at the moment but threatening to increase if that sky was anything at all to go by. Darn the animal, she thought, why did he have to choose a time like this to go gallivanting off on his own! She whistled again, heard him bark excitedly, and picked her way across the rough grass towards the sound, stumbling over molehills and tussocks, treading in heaven knows what and praying that she wouldn't slip at the wrong moment. When she finally came up with him he was scrabbling at a hole in the bank in between sticking in his nose and snuffling down it. Julia spoke to him sharply and pulled him away, fastened the belt from her slacks about his neck in lieu of a lead and set off the way she had come with a very much chastened animal trotting obediently at her knee. It was raining in earnest now, stinging her face and hands as the wind lashed it against her. After pulling her hood back on for the twentieth time she finally let it go. Her hair would simply have to get wet. She would wash it and use the hair dryer on it when she got back.

By the time they did get back to the house they were both soaked through. Julia fetched Shan's towel from the outhouse and rubbed him well down, opened the kitchen door to usher the dog inside and practically fell in herself as someone else pulled on it at the same moment. Ross caught her by the elbow as she stumbled over the threshold, steadied her and looked her over, fending off Shan's greeting with the other hand. 'Are you trying to catch pneumonia?' he demanded. 'You'd no call to take the dog out in weather like this.' 'It wasn't like this when we set out,' she said, putting up a hand to wipe the drips from her fringe before they ran down her face. 'Not quite. You gave me a surprise opening the door like that. Why didn't you put on a light?' 'Because I'd only just walked in when I heard you outside.' He rectified the matter, looked at her dripping hair and soaked clothing and turned her firmly towards the hall door. 'Upstairs and into a hot bath. Give me your jacket and I'll put it to dry.' Julia slipped down the zip and pulled her arms out of the sleeves, handed it over to him and left her shoes standing on the doormat while she went upstairs. She set hot water running into the bath and began to strip off her slacks and sweater, heard Ross coming up the stairs and then a rap on the door. 'When you're through, come into the bedroom. I've got some brandy here.' 'I'm all right,' she called. 'I've been wet before. And I don't like brandy.'

'Don't argue. It'll do you good.' He moved away before she could say anything else. He was standing in front of the window when she went through to the bedroom some fifteen minutes later, the glow from the table lamp emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders beneath the dark-grey jacket. 'It's going to be another wild one,' he observed without turning. 'Perhaps I ought to ring and suggest we make it another night.' 'We'll be in the car,' she pointed out quickly. 'And you did say you didn't want to disappoint them.' Her voice sounded oddly breathless. 'They may not have another free evening.' He did turn then, his eyes flicking over the towelling robe without change of expression. 'You've washed your hair,' he said. 'Is it going to be dry in time?' 'If I use the dryer on it, yes.' Julia picked up the small glass of amber liquid from the dressing-table and made a face. 'I don't really need this. I'm not cold after being in the bath.' 'It won't do you any harm,' he came back firmly. 'Get it down.' A smile flickered suddenly across her face. 'You sounded just like my father then.' 'Did I?' He was smiling too, but his tone was odd. 'Then pretend I am and do as you're told for once. It's only a very small brandy.' It was, and she had to admit that it warmed her through. She set the glass down again empty. 'That's better.' Ross took his hands out of his pockets and moved across to the door. 'May as well get changed myself. It will probably

take a bit longer than usual to get into town heading against this wind.' Standing where he had left her, Julia wondered what she had really expected - or was it hoped? It was five days since he had kissed her in the flat. Five days since they had agreed on a new start, or an attempt at one. What was he waiting for, her to make the first move? No, she thought, he wasn't the type to dodge the initiative. Then why, why, why hadn't he kissed her, here, now, tonight in this room, when she had wanted that, reassurance so badly. Ross was no fool. He must have realized something of her emotions during these last few minutes - even if she wasn't totally sure of them herself. The brandy had long ceased its effect by the time Julia was ready to go downstairs. She felt calm and clear-headed in a way she hadn't felt for weeks. Ross was already down and waiting for her in the sittingroom, skimming through the morning paper again with a whisky at his elbow. He looked up when she came in, clearly approved the amber suit and folded the newspaper into a fairly neat square before tossing it on to the settee. 'We've got five minutes or so yet,' he said. 'Would you like a sherry?' 'Not on top of the brandy.' She bent down to rub Shan's lifted head. 'You're not moving far from the fire tonight, are you, boy?' Without lifting her own head, she added, 'Can we leave him in, Ross? Just for once. It's such a wretched night, and I'm sure he won't do any harm.' 'Short of carrying him out I think I'd have a job persuading him,' he returned easily. 'Kennel, Shan?' He laughed as the dog dropped his head back on to his forepaws and gave him an accusing look. 'A good animal gone completely soft, and who's to blame!'

'You are,' she said steadily, 'for giving in to me. If it was so important to keep him out of the house you should have made it plain. He's your dog.' 'So he is.' There was a new quality in his gaze. 'But he comes with the worldly goods.' He came to his feet, picked up the coat she had slung across the arm of the settee and held it out for her, mouth curving suddenly at the corners. 'Time to go. Too late now to back out, wild as it sounds out there. You'd better put a scarf round your head until we get to the car.' Jill and Vincent Moore were already waiting for them in the hotel bar where they had arranged to meet, the same young couple Julia had seen outside the office last Friday, as she had strongly suspected. Both round about her own age, they had been married just under two years and at the moment lived with Jill's parents. 'Okay at first, but things are wearing a bit thin on both sides,' admitted the latter, wrinkling her nose wryly. 'We've been looking for a place of our own for some time, although we never really thought we'd finish up with one as good as this.' Her eyes went to Ross with a small upsurge of anxiety. 'You are sure they won't change their minds, Mr. Mannering? Really, I mean. I couldn't bear it if we lost it now.' 'They won't change their minds,' he said. 'They're not that kind. You must have realized that yourself when you met them. Some people are born gazumpers, some, like the Fallows, consider a verbal agreement as binding as a contract. Stop worrying about it. Everything is going along as it should.' 'All right,' she said, smiling back, 'I will.' She wouldn't because it was quite obviously her nature to worry about everything until it was an accomplished fact, but for the moment she was satisfied. 'You've done so much for us.'

'No more than the job calls for. It's the Fallows you should be grateful to.' 'We are,' said Vincent, then added shrewdly, 'But a great many agents would have persuaded them to stick to the original price rather than take a cut in their own commission. 'Yes, well ...' Ross lifted a hand and signalled the waiter... 'let's forget it, shall we?' It was a pleasant evening, if a little one-track. Julia listened to Jill's plans for furniture, carpets and eventual new decorations, agreed that such matters formed half of a woman's pleasure in a new house and wondered at her own lack of regret in not having experienced that pleasure for herself. The cottage suited her taste just as it was; Ross's choice could well have been her own. That, she supposed, had to make a difference. 'You know, your husband scared me a bit when we first went in to see him,' Jill confided with the frankness born partly of the wine and partly of her own bubbling happiness when she and Julia were together in the restaurant cloakroom at one point. 'Till he started talking, that was. Some people can make you feel quite apologetic because you haven't as much saved up as they think you should have before you start looking for a house, but he made everything so easy to talk about. We'd never thought of opening a savings account with a building society so that we'd stand a better chance of a loan when the time came, as well as getting a better rate of interest. I mean, you don't, do you? And then there was this disappointment over how much we could have on mortgage. I nearly cried in the office that day when I knew we were two hundred pounds short of what we needed to put down. It's a lot of money by any standards, and I certainly never expected the Fallows to drop their price like that for us when they could easily have sold the house to someone else.' She flapped

her compact shut with a sigh of content. 'I do talk a lot, don't I? Vin always says I must have been vaccinated with a gramophone needle!' Julia followed her back to the table in some confusion. Two hundred pounds, she had said, and yet Ross had mentioned only one hundred. She was certain he had. So who had contributed the other half? Ross himself? No, she told herself, he couldn't have. No one in business any kind of business - was that philanthropic. Saying good night to the Moores later on, Ross suddenly recalled some item of information he still required and asked Vincent to jot it down on a scrap of paper torn from his pocketbook. Folding it, he made to slip it into his breast pocket, found the note already there and took it out to look at it. Julia found herself letting out her breath in a small sigh when he shrugged and tossed it carelessly into a nearby waste basket before putting the new note in its place. So that was that. He probably didn't even recall whose the number was. The rain had stopped by the time they reached the turn-off for Marlow. Julia peered out through the window as the car slowed, and thought about that other night in September when the door had swung open, spilling her out on to the tarmac right at this very spot. She must have been in quite a state to have mistaken the door handle for the window lever, she realized; they were quite different. She turned her mind swiftly away from that track. It was over and done with. She wasn't going to start letting it worry her again now. 'Didn't you tell me that the Fallows had offered to drop their price by a hundred?' she asked, and felt Ross glance at her swiftly. 'Yes. Why?' 'Jill Moore seems to think it was more like two hundred.' She waited a good thirty seconds before turning her head to look at the firm

profile. 'You found the difference yourself, didn't you, Ross? You put in the other hundred.' 'Yes,' he said again in the same calm tones. 'I waived my commission on the sale. I can always offset it against tax.' 'Stop trying to make out it was nothing,' she said softly. 'I think it was a grand gesture, even if you can claim it back in some way. Do you often help out young couples like that?' 'No, and it won't be happening again either, so don't start painting me a halo just yet. The Moores happened to be one young couple I like rather more than most, that's all, and I wanted to see them get this house. You didn't give Jill any reason to suspect anything, I hope?' 'Of course not! I wasn't all that sure of it myself.' 'You mean you didn't believe me capable of any kind of impulsive action, I think.' He said it evenly, but there was a faint contraction of that tell-tale muscle in his jawline. 'Perhaps it was calculation. Perhaps I meant you to find out.' 'I don't believe it,' she said, and knew that she spoke the truth. There was only a slight hesitation before she added softly, 'Tell me about when we met, Ross. What did we talk about that first time?' 'You, mostly.' A smile softened his features. 'You were wearing a blue dress with a wide white collar, and I wanted to kiss you all evening. That's what I remember best.' 'And did you?' 'At the first opportunity - outside the flat you shared with those two friends. Not that you were ready to start giving too much of yourself away just then. It took me another forty-eight hours to convince you that two people didn't have to know one another for weeks to be sure

of their feelings.' He brought the car to a stop in front of the gate, angled so that the headlights illuminated the path all the way up to the door. 'I'll watch you in before I put it away.' Julia reached for the door catch, felt his hand close gently about her wrist and turned slowly back to look at him, her heart thudding so loudly that it seemed to her to fill the car. The kiss was long, slow and questioning, testing her responses before exerting any demands, and leaving her quivering with closed eyes against his shoulder. He drew a line very softly down her cheek with his thumb, lingered for one pulsating, timeless moment with his hand warm at her throat, then leaned across her and opened the door. He waited until she was indoors before starting the engine and moving the car down to the garage. Shan padded out from the sittingroom to greet her, collapsing at the foot of the stairs as she went on up to the bedroom to switch on the lamp and take off her coat and hang it neatly away in the wardrobe. Below, the front door opened and closed again. There was the familiar sound of the bolt being shot, a low order to Shan, and then Ross came on up the bare polished boards and into the room.

CHAPTER SEVEN IT was just starting to get light when Julia awoke, and for a moment she lay gazing at the ceiling before turning her head cautiously towards the other pillow. Ross lay on his face, one arm flung heavily across her waist, his features relaxed in sleep. With his hair tousled like that he looked younger, almost boyish. She put out a featherlight hand and smoothed away the bit that lay over his eyes, felt him stir and subsided into watching him once more, remembering the tender warmth of his hands and voice in the night, the rising passion of his kisses and her own overwhelming response. This was her husband, she told herself, and she was in love with him. Nothing else mattered for her now but that. Nothing else had to matter. Moving slowly and carefully, she slid out from beneath the encircling arm and out of the bed, found slippers and wrap, and padded across to the window to peer out on to a mist-shrouded world, with the trees rising like ghostly sentinels at the bottom of the garden. There was a damp chill in the air which even the central heating could not fully dispel. Julia shivered a little and drew her wrap more closely about her, turning away to find Ross propped up on one elbow watching her, a smile on his lips. 'Hi,' he said softly, and held out a hand. 'Come over here.' She went to him willingly, taking the hand and allowing herself to be drawn down into the hard, secure circle of his arms. 'The wind has dropped,' she said. 'I'll be able to sweep up the leaves again.' 'Not today.' He touched her cheek with a fingertip. 'Today is special. I'm going to take the day off and spend it with you. Just the two of us. Is there anywhere you'd like to go?'

'Not that I can think of.' She put her head down to the bare brown chest and clung unashamedly. 'I just want to be with you. Does that sound foolish?' 'I hope not. It's what I've been waiting to hear you say for weeks.' He added quietly, 'No regrets?' 'For what - being married to you?' She laughed. 'I think it was probably the best thing I ever did in my life. If I have any regrets at all it's that I can't remember seeing you for the first time - although I suppose I could always count the moment when I woke up in hospital if nothing else offers itself.' 'That's a good sign. You can joke about it now.' He studied her, expression undergoing a subtle change, seemed about to say something else then apparently changed his mind. With one hand he pushed at her chin, stated firmly, 'Breakfast, woman, or we'll be here all morning. We'll talk about what we're going to do with the day while we eat.' Julia was dishing up the bacon when he came down. He was wearing well-worn levis and a bulky white sweater, and carried an Ordnance Survey map of the area in his hand. 'Ever seen Stonehenge?' he asked, spreading the map out on the table regardless of what he was covering up. 'If I remember rightly we can park the car in Amesbury and walk out, then come back to it a different way. It's going to be a fine day once the sun gets through. Just the weather for walking.' He glanced across at her with lifted brows. 'How about it?' 'Sounds a good idea.' Julia didn't much care what they did providing this feeling of warmth and security lasted. Just to be with Ross for the whole day would be enough. Right now her whole horizon was bound by that need. 'What shall I wear?'

'Something warm and comfortable - particularly round the feet.' His grin was easy. 'Can't stand women who turn up for a hike looking like a fashion plate.' Julia smiled back. 'Did I ever do that?' 'Not exactly. You did have the idea of attempting to climb four thousand feet up an Austrian mountain in sandals once, but I talked you out of it. A regular townie, the girl I married!' 'Stop jeering,' she retorted. 'You were a townie yourself before you moved down here.' 'In body maybe, not in spirit. There was never anything I liked better than getting out of town at the week-ends.' 'On your own?' she asked, sliding a plate in front of him as he refolded the map. 'Yes.' A faint shadow seemed to momentarily touch his eyes. 'At that time there was no one I cared to take with me.' He laid the map to one side and picked up his knife and fork, cut into the lightly crisped bacon and said, 'That's the dressing-gown I bought you in Austria.' 'The term,' she said, 'is housecoat.' She touched the mandarin collar softly. 'Why did you buy it me?' 'Because you liked it, and you looked good in it. There was another I wanted you to have, but you said it was outrageously expensive and not worth it. I remember congratulating myself on having found a thrifty wife as well as a good-looking one. Taken all round it was a pretty rewarding three weeks.' A lump came suddenly and painfully into her throat. This was their honeymoon he was talking about, the time most couples could look back on together. Would there ever be a time when she and Ross

would be able to do the same? Surely this block in her mind couldn't last for the rest of her life. Unconsciously her hand travelled up to the place on her temple up under her hair where her fingers could still trace the faint scarring, and pressed, as if by sheer force she might restore that part of her brain which refused to function. If only she could remember! 'Julia.' Ross leaned across and put his hand over the one which lay beside her plate. 'Don't. You looked just like you did on the day I brought you home.' 'I'm sorry.' She tried to smile and recapture the mood of a moment ago. 'I promised myself I'd try not to think about it at all, but it isn't that easy.' 'Then we'll have to concentrate on keeping your mind otherwise occupied,' he said with deliberation. 'Perhaps it would be better if we made a point of not mentioning what's past. It's the future we've to think about now, whatever happens.' 'No.' She shook her head decisively. 'That's not the answer. I've got to learn to accept things as they are. I suppose we both have.' This time her smile was brighter. 'I've always wanted to visit Stonehenge. How did you guess?' They set off soon after nine-thirty, with Shan spread across the rear seat. Ross had not actually planned on taking the dog, but the latter had proved to have his own ideas on the subject, sneaking out through the side gate and leaping into the car the moment the door was opened. 'I've a feeling my authority is beginning to mean nothing in this household,' Ross remarked as he turned the car out into the lane. 'I suppose he's been going all over the place with you and Dave?' He

turned his head when Julia didn't reply immediately and gave her a shrewd glance. 'Don't worry, I've a good idea why Dave lit out like he did. You're the first woman he's had anything much to do with in over a year. It was on the cards that he'd start feeling a bit more than brotherly. Want to tell me what happened?' 'That wouldn't be very fair on David. He just got a bit carried away, as you said. It was his own idea to leave.' She slanted a glance at him. 'You will see him again before he goes back?' 'Naturally. If he goes back.' A frown crossed his features. 'Did he say anything about Lou before he left?' 'No.' Lou, Julia thought, had been far from his mind at that particular time. Once again she was aware of the faint sense of uneasiness at the mention of that name, the feeling that somewhere, some time, somehow it had meant something to her. 'What was she like?' she asked on a casual note, and found herself waiting for his answer with something like precognition. His reply was several seconds in coming, though that could have been due to his concentration on avoiding the ditch as he swung the car round the corner. 'Attractive,' he said at last. 'Tall, slim and attractive.' 'And a brunette,' she added, and felt him look round at her. 'Why ask me if Dave already told you about her?' 'He didn't. Not in that way.' Julia frowned at the windscreen, then her brow suddenly cleared. 'It was in Luigi's. I couldn't think for a minute how I could have known she was a brunette.' Memory of that occasion returned wholesale; she added slowly, 'Ross, what did he mean that day when he said you were against all brunettes?'

A sound like a sigh escaped him, and he brought the car to a sudden halt in the hedge bottom, to sit for a long moment looking out through the windscreen before turning to her. 'There's something I've got to tell you, Julia,' he said. 'This isn't the right place, and I doubt that it's even the right time, but I have to get it off my chest. Will you try to listen calmly and quietly without jumping to conclusions?' The car seemed suddenly to have shrunk, the sides pressing in on her. When she spoke her voice sounded hollow. 'All right.' Ross leaned on the wheel, making no attempt to touch her. 'There's only one way to say it, and that's straight out. I was married before. A long time ago - eight, nine years. Enid died six months before I moved down here. I wanted to tell you while you were still in hospital, but Doctor Stewart advised waiting until things were more ... settled between us. He'd probably have reservations about my doing it in quite this way, only I had to make sure this time that I was the one who told you.' The claustrophobic feeling was passing, but Julia felt chilled. 'This time?' she whispered. 'If you'd known you were going to be my second wife you'd never have married me,' he replied flatly. 'You talked quite a bit about your father that first evening we spent together, and I realized then how you felt about taking any kind of second place. You'd have resented your father marrying again because that would have meant sharing him. Equally you'd have resented the fact that I'd once loved another woman enough to ask her to marry me.' Was it true? she wondered numbly as the seconds stretched into minutes. Was she really like that? Her father had only been in his

early forties when her mother had died, and still a very attractive man. But surely ... 'You were going to tell me after we were married?' she heard her own voice asking into the silence, and Ross smiled wryly. 'I planned to, only somehow I never seemed to find quite the right moment then either. As I've said before, the first year of any marriage has enough problems without adding to them. 'But I found out? Is that what they think happened?' 'We can't be sure. We can't even be sure that you did find out. Nobody but David knows about her - or I thought so.' He was speaking carefully, choosing his words. 'Assuming that you did, however, it could be that your mind dealt with the shock by simply pretending it didn't happen, only to do that meant blocking out everything connected. That's Why Doctor Stewart didn't want me to tell you the truth right away. He hoped you'd start' to remember of your own accord.' 'I don't believe it,' she said painfully. 'Even if I did find out by accident I ...' She closed her eyes and her voice trembled. 'Ross, I couldn't be that unbalanced. I couldn't!' 'Nobody is saying you're unbalanced.' His arms reached out for her, drawing her close. 'It's just a theory, a possible explanation. As telling you hasn't sparked off any kind of response then it's more than possible that we were barking up the wrong tree, anyway, but at least we can start now with a clean slate.' He held her away so that he could see her face. 'Or are we back to square one?' Julia looked into the unwavering grey eyes and slowly shook her head. 'No,' she said in as firm a voice as she could muster, 'it's not

going to make any difference. I won't let it make any difference.' She paused. 'Do you mind talking about her?' 'No,' he said. 'We were married when I was twenty-six, two years before she was killed in a skiing accident in Switzerland. She was a very lively person, very popular. Everyone thought I was very fortunate.' His voice was totally dispassionate. 'I thought the same myself for all of six months, until she started looking up her old boyfriends again. It took me another six to realize that to Enid marriage was a novelty which had worn off. By that time I was pretty indifferent about it myself, but vindictive where she was concerned. I suppose eventually I'd have given her the divorce she wanted.' 'I'm sorry,' she said tremulously. 'I shouldn't have asked.' 'I said I didn't mind.' He smoothed back a lock of hair from her cheek, his mouth lifting into a smile which didn't quite reach his eyes. 'I grew a hard skin where women were concerned after that. I certainly never thought I'd be willing to give marriage a go again. Then I met you that afternoon at the party, and wham!' 'Just like that?' Try as she might Julia couldn't quite hide her need, and she felt his hand tighten over hers. 'Just like that. I came, I saw, I was conquered.' The smile came again, naturally this time. 'Not a small triumph for me either, carrying you right out from under Bill's nose. When he agreed to stand witness for us I think he stretched the hand of friendship as far as it's ever gone.' 'Bill only took me out a few times,' she protested. 'There was never anything between us.' 'On your side maybe not. That doesn't mean he couldn't hope there might be some day. Bill was always prepared to be patient over anything he really cared about.'

'If you go on,' she said, 'I'll start thinking you only wanted me yourself because Bill did.' She saw his expression start to change, added swiftly, 'No, I didn't mean that. Anyway, you're wrong about Bill. We were friends, that's all.' 'Have it your own way.' His gaze slid over her face. 'How do you feel now?' 'Different,' she admitted. 'You've made me see a side to myself I didn't realize existed. If you're right about Dad - and looking back I can think of at least one time which could prove you are - then I'm ashamed of it. Only he shouldn't have let me rule his life to that extent, should he?' 'He obviously loved you a great deal. That's not hard to understand.' Without thinking about it, Julia put a hand each side of the strong, lean face and kissed him, felt his arms move round her and gave herself up to his bruising response. It was Shan who broke it up by sticking a wet nose in Julia's ear, making her yell. 'Why don't you try training this animal of yours!' she demanded on a tremulous note of laughter, pushing the dog away as he attempted to follow up the nose with an enthusiastically damp tongue. 'Stop it, Shan!' 'Down!' commanded Ross without raising his voice unduly, and the dog dropped back to his seat to sit gazing at them with bright eyes and lolling tongue. Ross raised a satirical eyebrow. 'You were saying?' There was a brightness in her own eyes as she looked back at him. 'I think you've said it all. I'm glad you told me about ... Enid, Ross. It

might have bothered me once, but I promise you it isn't going to now.' She hesitated. 'It was more than just a physical resemblance with Lou, though, wasn't it? You told David she was out for what she could get.' 'I did?' He eased his position, expression suddenly unreadable. 'Then I must have had reasons, I suppose. Call it instinct, if you like.' Julia would have liked, but couldn't. There had to be more to it than that. Ross simply wasn't the type to judge entirely on first impressions. Supposing he had been drawn to Lou himself because of her resemblance to the wife he had loved once. Wouldn't he then have had some deeper reason to feel bitter over the way she had treated his brother? It was one explanation of his reluctance to talk about her. Julia closed her eyes as he started the engine, and fought the emotions deep down inside her. Whether it was true or not it was all over long before Ross had met her. If they were going to be happy together now she had to stop dwelling on what was past and gone. That day with Ross turned out to be the best she had spent in years. Even in the following days when she was once more alone for hours she found a difference in that there was always the evening to look forward to and plan for. She began going into the village again, doing a little shopping at the tiny but surprisingly well- stocked store and gradually overcoming her self-consciousness with these people who had known her before the accident. It was going to take time to get them to accept her without reservation, she realized, but that would possibly have been the case had nothing untoward happened between times. It was Monday before David telephoned. Ross took the call, his eyes on Julia as she stood listening in the archway. Yes, he said, they were both well. How was life in town going down?

A moment or two later he said 'Hang on' and put his hand over the receiver. 'Dave wants to know if we could manage a night in town,' he said. 'He wants to take us out somewhere as a kind of return for having him here. How do you feel about it?' 'How do you feel about it?' she asked. His smile was reassuring. 'Generous. And the change would be good for you. We could make it this coming Friday.' He took his hand away. 'Yes, that's okay, Dave. Friday, then. See you.' 'Thanks,' said Julia softly when he had put the telephone down. 'For not letting on that you knew anything, I mean. He's obviously got over it.' 'Don't be too sure. He might be grasping at any chance to see you again, even in my company.' Ross said it humorously. 'Under the circumstances I can hardly deny him that much. Another five days after that he'll be back in the desert.' 'You think he should go back?' she asked as they both turned into the sitting-room, and he glanced down at her. 'It's good experience. After this three years he'll be qualified to move on to a higher grading.' 'But it's a terribly lonely life out there, from what he said. Wouldn't it have been better if he'd tried to get another job while he's here in England?' 'That's up to him to decide.' Ross sat down in the chair he had vacated when the phone rang, lit another cigarette and eyed her through the smoke. 'The only thing he's likely to be missing out there is a woman, and if he's that desperate there are always ways and means.'

Her nose wrinkled. 'That's putting it a bit crudely.' 'Realistically, I'd have said. It's a natural enough need.' He looked amused. 'I suppose you'd rather think of his feelings for you on quite another plane.' 'I suppose I would.' She gave him a bland little smile. 'Maybe I have reason.' 'Are you trying to make me jealous?' There was a sudden stillness between them, then they both smiled and the moment's awkwardness was over. 'Yes,' she said, 'that's about it. According to the magazine columnists it does no husband any good to get too complacent.' 'Complacent, am I?' He shot out an unexpected hand and seized her wrist, pulled her down on to his knees and quirked a brow. 'Want to rephrase?' 'I might.' She was laughing. 'But not while you're blowing smoke in my face.' 'A minor detail.' Ross stubbed out the cigarette and drew her closer, rubbed his chin against her forehead and grinned at her small exclamation. 'Any other complaints, Mrs. Mannering?' 'No.' Her voice was soft, and she saw his eyes darken. Nothing could take this away from them now, she thought fiercely as his mouth found hers. Nothing! Peggy and Mike came over for dinner on the Thursday. Julia wore her favourite blue and knew that she looked her best.

'Whatever has happened it's certainly done the two of you good,' commented Peggy with typical candour when the two of them were alone in the kitchen with the perking coffee. 'Tonight could be any one of a dozen others I can remember, although I take it you still can't?' 'No,' Julia admitted, and lifted her head to look back at her with untroubled eyes. 'It doesn't seem to matter all that much any more. Maybe I will remember some day, maybe I won't. I'm certainly not going to worry about it.' 'Good for you.' Peggy's voice was warm. 'Ross said something about the two of you spending a couple of days in London when he called yesterday. Where are you staying?' 'I've no idea. He did the arranging. Did he tell you David is due to go back East on Thursday?' 'He mentioned it. Seemed to think it was a good thing.' 'He's afraid he might get tangled up with Lou again.' For the first time Julia found herself able to say the name without any particular sensation. 'From what David told me about her I don't think there's much chance, but Ross won't have it. You know what he's like once he gets an idea fixed in his mind.' She stopped, then laughed suddenly. 'You know, I think a few bits might be starting to come back after all. I keep catching myself accepting things about Ross that I can't .possibly have discovered in these last few weeks — such as knowing just which one of over a couple of dozen ties he always wears with a suit I'd never consciously seen him in before. It's an uncanny feeling at times, a bit like those flashes of presentiment they use as arguments for reincarnation. In a lot of ways, I suppose, we're starting to live that three months all over again.'

Peggy smiled back. 'Who was it said that life is one long honeymoon!' It was a good evening, and Julia was genuinely sorry to see the Ashleys go. 'You must come over to us next week,' said Peggy at the door. 'Although I shan't even try to compete with that Hungarian dish you gave us. I'll ring you Monday after you get back.' With the door closed and the sound of the car fading into the frosty night, Julia glanced up at Ross and said softly, 'Nice people.' 'Mmmm.' He slung an arm about her shoulders, stifling a yawn with the back of his free hand. 'But talkative. I'd like a reasonably early start tomorrow - or should I say today? One or two people I ought to call on, if you don't mind spending an hour or two on your own during the afternoon?' 'Killing two birds with one stone?' she asked lightly, and he pinched the soft flesh of her upper arm between finger and thumb. 'Taking advantage of opportunity. I don't get up to town all that often. Still, if you'd rather I stayed ...' 'Of course not. Well, I would, but I'll make the sacrifice in the interests of business. It is business, I suppose?' Ross reached out and flicked off the hall light. 'Yes,' he said into the darkness, 'it's business.' They made good time the following morning, reaching the city centre about lunchtime and deciding to take the meal in the hotel restaurant rather than make a trip out again.

So far as Julia's memory was concerned it was only a mere six or seven weeks since she had last been in London; she had to constantly remind herself that more like five months had passed since she had left the flat she had shared with two other bachelor girls. She had considered contacting them during this overnight stop, but on second thoughts had decided against it. There would be too many questions to answer, too many pitfalls to avoid unless she told all, and that she had no intention of doing - not unnecessarily. Ross left her about two saying he wouldn't be more than a couple of hours. Left to her own devices, Julia went out herself to stroll along the Strand in the bright afternoon sunshine, enjoying the anonymity of being once more a part of the scurrying crowd, and yet finding relief in the thought that this was only an interlude. The cottage was her home, the countryside her delight. Odd how radically one's views could change in such a relatively short space of time, she mused, stopping to look at a display of winter coats. A couple of years ago, even a year ago, she could have imagined herself living nowhere else but this. 'Julia!' There was someone at her side, catching her arm and swinging her round with a look of unconcealed delight. 'Where did you spring from? Why didn't you let me know you were in town?' For world substitute city, thought Julia, smiling back at the stockily built man in the dark business suit. 'Hallo, Bill. I was wondering whether to call in at the office. Are you on your way back there now?' 'I was, but there's no hurry.' He glanced round. 'Are you waiting for Ross, or are you on your own?' 'A bit of both. I'm meeting him back at the hotel at four-thirty.'

'Then you've got an hour or more to spare. Come and have a coffee with me. It's ages since I saw you.' There was a bar on the next corner. One they had visited together often in the past. Seated in one of the alcoves, Julia looked across at her former boss with a smile. 'Quite like old times.' 'No,' he said with emphasis. 'Not quite. To the victor the spoils.' He regarded her smilingly, eyes crinkling at the corners in the way she recalled so well. 'I don't need to ask the obvious question. You're still blooming - although I'd say you'd lost a little weight since I saw you last.' 'Exercise,' she said quickly. 'I take the dog out for long walks every day. How is everybody?' 'About as usual - though there's been a bit of a switch round this last month. I've got Josie Harris now.' 'The raving redhead!' Julia lifted her brows at him humorously, and put on a low, sultry voice. 'Shall I bring my book in with me, Mr. Grieves?' Bill grinned. 'Each to his own. After that old battle- axe top office sent down as your replacement she's decidedly easy on the eye, and I'm old enough to know a husband-hunter when I see one. Don't worry, I'll keep out of her feverish clutches - outside of the office, at any rate. Is Ross in town on business or pleasure?' 'Business now, pleasure later. We're meeting his brother David for dinner tonight.' 'Didn't know he was home. How long?'

'Three weeks so far. He spent about ten days at the cottage before coming up to town.' There were so many things she would have liked to ask, yet so few she could ask without giving herself away. 'I would have thought he'd have got in touch with you.' 'No real reason to. We've only met a few times.' Bill picked up his cup and drank, returned it to its saucer and said, 'Did you tell Lou he was coming home?' Julia sat very still, her eyes fixed on the swirling liquid beneath her spoon. There was an odd tingling sensation at the back of her neck, a feeling that time itself had suddenly stood still. When she finally lifted her head it took all of her control not to show how that one simple question had affected her. 'Lou?' 'Well, it can't be more than six weeks or so since I introduced the two of you that afternoon when you called in at the office, and you did leave together. I thought you might have mentioned it, considering.' He was looking at her a little oddly. 'You've gone pale. Are you feeling well?' 'Yes.' Her voice seemed to be coming from a great distance away. 'Bill, what date was it when I came to the office, can you remember?' 'Date?' His forehead creased. 'I don't... Oh, wait a minute. It was the day Lou went off to Greece for a fortnight. That would make it, let's see - the twenty- fifth of September. Why?' The twenty-fifth. Julia drew in a shaky breath. So she had been here in London on the day of the accident, and with David's ex-fiancée for at least some part of the day. For a brief fleeting instant she had the impression of standing at one end of a long dark tunnel with

something reaching out at her from the other. Something she didn't want to see. 'It's just that I ... lost something round about that time,' she said with an effort. 'I'm wondering now if Lou might have found it.' It sounded lame, but it was the best she could do at the moment. 'Do you have her address?' Bill's expression underwent an indefinable change. 'Yes, it's in Kensington. But I don't think she'll be in right now. Why don't you phone her?' 'Good idea,' she said, and watched him fish out a pen and jot the number down on a piece of paper torn from a notebook. 'You could put the address down too,' she added through a throat full of sawdust. 'If I can't reach her by phone before tomorrow afternoon I can always write.' 'I suppose you can.' It was apparent from his voice that Bill was finding the whole thing a little confusing, but he refrained from comment until he had handed over the slip of paper. 'I'm sure she would have contacted you before this if she had found this thing you've lost.' 'You're probably right. Still, it's worth a try.' Julia crumpled the paper in her hand, her smile over-bright. 'Have you seen her recently yourself?' 'Last week.' He met her eyes and gave a small wry shrug. 'I know what you're thinking. I should have more sense after what she did to Dave. I know what she is and what she's after, only it doesn't seem to make any difference when I'm with her. The ironic part is that I thought I was simply using her to take my mind off you after Ross spirited you away.'

Julia said painfully, 'How did you meet her?' 'Bumped into her about four months ago near the office. She asked after Dave, and seemed genuinely sorry about the way she'd walked out on him. Next thing I knew we were having dinner together.' 'I see.' Just for a moment Julia wondered whether to tell him that Lou had been in touch with David herself, then decided against it. This was something Bill would have to sort out for himself. She had too much already on her plate. 'I really must be going,' she said. 'It's been good seeing you, Bill.' The puzzlement was back in his eyes. 'What is it?' he asked suddenly. 'What happened between you and Lou that time, Julia?' 'That,' she returned in a voice which lacked steadiness, 'is what I have to find out. You can ask her the next time you meet. 'Bye, Bill.' She was at the door while he was still sorting out change for the check. A taxi was disgorging its passengers a little way down the road. Julia ran for it, jumping in a second before another would-be hirer. Smoothing out the crumpled bit of paper, she gave the driver the address, then sat back in her seat and looked once more at the telephone number Bill had written down. There was no mistake, she was sure of it. This was the same number as that on the diary page she had found in Ross's pocket. The one he had thrown away. But why? Because he no longer had need to dial that number, or because he knew it so well by now that he no longer needed a reminder? She had to know which. The address Bill had given her was just off Church Street. Julia paid off the cab at the corner and began to make her way along the road on foot. The houses here were well maintained, mostly converted into flats from what she could see. The one she was passing now was numbered 63, from which she calculated that 137 must be round the

bend up ahead. In a few minutes she would be face to face with the woman who could hold the whole key to the gap in her memory. Her footsteps slowed. Supposing, as Bill had said, that Lou wasn't in. .What then? Could she bear to go back to Ross still not knowing? No, she decided, she couldn't. If Lou was out then she would have to wait for her, no matter how long it took. One way or another... One hand went out gropingly to the railings at her side. A man was descending the steps of a house about half-way down the road from where she had stopped, pausing at the bottom to throw down the remains of a cigarette and grind it beneath his heel before crossing the pavement to open the door of the green saloon parked at the kerb edge. The noise of the engine seemed to come from somewhere far away. Julia watched the car pull out and move away from her, and felt the walls of the tunnel closing in and around her as she was drawn down into the whirling kaleidoscope of returning images.

CHAPTER EIGHT THREE whole months, thought Julia, getting out of the taxi to stand for a moment looking, up at the familiar building before turning back to accept her change from the driver. It seemed far less than that since the day when Ross had walked into the office up there on the first floor and taken over her life. Her lips curved. There was a great deal more to marriage than she had ever imagined, but she wouldn't swap a moment of it - including the tiffs. So much for those who had thrown the old saying at her during those few short days before the wedding. Sue Raynor was still on reception, she was glad to see when she got upstairs. She went in through the swing doors as silently as she could, crept up to the desk where Sue was busily filing and leaned her elbows on it, laughing at the startled expression on the other girl's face when she looked up. 'Hallo.' 'Julia!' Surprise gave way to pleasure, and that in turn to swift appraisal. 'You're looking marvellous! Is all that colour natural?' 'Sea air and undiluted sunshine. Something you poor city folk wouldn't know much about.' 'You didn't seem to find much wrong with city life yourself before that husband of yours came on the scene. How is the gorgeous brute?' 'Fine,' Julia said laughingly. 'I'll pass on your opinion when I get back.' 'Much good it will do me. How long are you in town for?' 'Just the day. I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and do a bit of shopping along with seeing old friends. Is Bill in?'

Sue pursed her lips. 'He is, but I'm not sure I ought to interrupt him just now. He's got his girl-friend in there.' 'Girl-friend?' 'Your successor. A married woman, no less.' 'Oh, come off it. Bill wouldn't...' 'Wouldn't he though? Well, you knew him better than any of us.' Sue's expression was bland as she reached for the intercom. 'I'll let him know you're here.' 'I don't think there's any need,' said Julia as a door opposite opened. 'He's coming out now.' A moment later she was wondering if she had imagined the momentary disconcertion on her former boss's face as he came forward to greet her with the familiar smile widening his mouth. 'This is a surprise,' he said. 'But a very nice one. Are you alone?' 'Yes,' she said, and knew she certainly hadn't imagined the relief which flashed into his eyes. 'Ross sends his regards.' 'So you're Ross Mannering's wife.' Bill's companion had come nearer, her eyes registering every detail of Julia's appearance. Her tone was pleasant enough, but there was a gleam of irony in her smile. 'I always said Ross had taste. Aren't you going to introduce us, Bill?' The latter looked distinctly uncomfortable. 'Julia, I'd like you to meet Lou Roxford.' 'And you obviously don't need to add any more,' put in the latter, watching Julia's expression with an air of amusement. 'Yes, I'm that Lou Roxford. David's ex. He's still out East?'

'Yes.' So this was the woman her brother-in-law had left the country because of. Seeing her now, Julia could quite understand how any man might feel that way about losing her. Lou was one of the most attractive women she had ever met, dark, vivacious and arrestingly sloe-eyed. Not all that much older than she was herself, she supposed, yet with a poise and assurance she, Julia, could never have matched. 'I believe he's due for leave quite soon.' 'Really?' It was hard to tell if the interest was merely polite. 'He must have had an interesting year.' 'How about some coffee?' asked Bill into the small silence. 'Sue, can you ...' 'I'm not staying,' Julia said quickly. 'Thanks all the same, but I must catch the five-fifteen. I just popped in on my way to the station to say hallo. In fact ...' glancing at the wall clock ... 'I'd better be making tracks now if I'm going to do it in time.' 'Victoria?' Lou was drawing on her gloves. 'I'm going past there. I can give you a lift.' She glanced back at Bill with an odd little smile. 'See you in a fortnight, then. I'll send you a postcard or two.' 'Thanks.' His eyes moved from her to Julia, and she thought that he looked somehow disturbed. 'Try and make it a bit longer visit next time, won't you?' 'I will,' she promised. 'Good-bye, Bill. It's been nice seeing you even this fleetingly.' She smiled vaguely at the obviously confused Sue and accompanied Lou out through the swing doors. The other had her car parked on a meter just round the corner from the office block, an almost new Triumph 2000 already a good ten minutes into penalty time.

'Sling your things in the back and let's get off before some noseyparker warden puts in an appearance,' she said, opening the doors. 'I've two hours to make Gat- wick in, and the way that traffic is building up I'm going to need all of it.' 'Holiday?' asked Julia when they were moving. 'No, business. I'm going over to check on possible new resorts for next season. A bit of a change from sending others on their way.' 'Oh, I see. You work for a travel agency?' 'That's right.' The sleek dark head turned momentarily towards her, mouth twisting. 'What exactly has Ross told you about me?' Julia said uncomfortably, 'Not very much. Just that you were once engaged to David but decided to marry someone else.' 'I suppose you could put it like that.' Lou put her foot down and overtook a taxi, ignoring the driver's remonstrating gesture. 'David's a good sort, but dull. I should never have got tied up with him.' 'Then why did you?' 'Oh, various reasons. I was going through a bad patch when I met him. Hated the job I had and thought marriage seemed a better prospect.' She shrugged. 'It might be with the right man, only Dave wasn't it, and neither was the one I left him for.' 'And Bill?' The question was out before Julia could stop it, and she saw a smile cross Lou's face. 'I thought that might be bothering you. Rotten, isn't it, when the torch goes out?' 'I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean.'

'I think you are. You had a fight with yourself over whether you ought to stop and see Bill at all, only you couldn't resist the temptation to find out how he was getting along without you. Finding me there put your nose right out of joint. That's why you didn't want to stop any longer.' 'That's ridiculous,' Julia said tautly. 'I have a train to catch.' 'They're pretty regular down your way. You could have caught the next.' Lou wasn't in the least put off. 'Don't worry, I know just how you felt. I'm a bit dog in the manger myself. Most folk are, if they'd only admit it. You might say Ross is a good case in point.' 'Ross?' 'Well, the way he treated his first wife. If something doesn't work out you try to cut your losses, but not him. Refusing her a divorce was his way of getting even, although he probably regretted it when she was killed.' Perhaps it was something in the very quality of Julia's silence that drew her eyes sideways, and her expression altered suddenly. 'Surely you knew about Enid? Ross wouldn't have ...' She broke off, glanced at Julia again, said softly, 'Obviously he would. And I've let the cat out of the bag. Sorry.' Julia felt her hands clench into fists in her lap, felt the nails cutting into her palms and actually welcomed the physical pain. There was an awful numbness inside her. Ross had been married before. She was his second wife. Why hadn't he told her? Why? They were coming into the station forecourt now. Lou brought the car to a halt. 'Look,' she said, 'I really am sorry. There are a few things I do draw the line at. It never occurred to me that. ..' 'It's all right.' Julia got out of the car and accepted the parcels Lou handed out to her, looked down into the dark eyes and asked the

question to which she already knew the answer. 'How did you know about... Enid?' The answering shrug was faintly defensive. 'How do you think?' Julia didn't wait to hear the rest. She couldn't bear to hear the rest. She heard Lou call her name sharply, but kept right on going, knowing the other couldn't leave the car where it was to follow her. Ross and Enid. Ross and Lou. Ross and how many more other women! Oh, she supposed she had known well enough when she first met him that he was no monk. She wouldn't have expected it of a man his age. But a wife he had never mentioned, plus a mistress who had once been engaged to his own brother - that was beyond all acceptance! She swallowed painfully. There could be no doubt at all about his having had an affair with Lou at some time. The very fact that she knew so much personal and private detail of his past life made that obvious. When? she wondered, and knew with sickening certainty that it could only have been while Lou was still actually engaged to David. His bitter condemnation of her now stemmed from the blow to his own pride not his brother's. Her head throbbed. She had trusted Ross, believed in him, given him her love. And now, in a few short moments, it had all been snatched away. What was she going to do?

Ross was waiting in the car when she came out from the station at six-thirty. He got out when he saw her, and came to take the packages from her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. 'Had a good day?'

'Yes.' Julia walked with him to the car and slid into her seat, waiting silently while he stowed away the parcels in the boot. Coming down in the train she had wanted nothing more at first than to throw the whole thing in his face and see his reaction, only gradually that desire had faded and a kind of numbness taken its place. She felt as if she were sleepwalking with her eyes wide open, seeing everything yet feeling nothing. Ross came back and got behind the wheel, his eyes going to her face. 'You look tired out. If that's what a day in London does for you, you'd be better off doing your shopping down here in future. Did you call in at the office.' 'Yes.' She put her head back against the rest and closed her eyes. 'Do you mind if I don't talk just now? I - I have a headache.' 'No, of course not.' His tone was understanding. 'Have a rest.' They made the journey back to the cottage in swift time. Julia pretended to sleep. It was the easiest way. Indoors she took off her jacket and slung it over the telephone table, then went through to the kitchen. She was filling the percolator at the tap when Ross came in. 'Does everything want to go upstairs?' he asked, and she nodded without turning. There was a pause, and she could feel his eyes boring into her back, then he said evenly, 'Would you like me to ring Peggy and tell her you're not feeling up to it?' Peggy? Julia turned the tap off tightly. She had forgotten all about the Ashleys' party. She thought of the evening stretching ahead, of the sheer impossibility of making herself act normally with Ross. She couldn't be alone with him just yet. She just couldn't! 'No, don't do that,' she said. 'I'll take a couple of aspirin and have a shower. What time do you want to set off?'

'Eight will do me. You quite sure?' Irritation gripped her. 'I told you. Yes!' 'All right.' Ross was obviously keeping a firm hold on his own temper. 'I'll take your things up. Don't bother with any coffee for me. I had some in town before the train came in.' Under the circumstances Julia decided not to bother with any herself. It had been an automatic action, anyway. Something to do. She went upstairs and into the bedroom, took the first dress which came to hand from the wardrobe and found some shoes to go with it. She could hear Ross in the bathroom, the rushing of the shower. He would be through in ten minutes. He always was. That was why he'd fallen into the habit of always getting ready first, because she took so long. It saved a lot of lost tempers. She sat down suddenly on the dressing table stool as her legs trembled. What was she going to do? Could she bear to go on living with Ross knowing what she did know now about his past? Could she bear not to? Did she have it out with him, or try to forget it? She pressed her hands to her cheeks and stared at the stranger in the mirror, pale, dark-eyed. Forget it? If only she had never found out! It was dark by the time they set off for town, and cool enough after the warmth of the day to need the heater on in the car. They had been driving for several minutes before Ross said casually: 'How was Bill? I suppose you saw him?' 'Yes,' she said. 'He's fine.' 'Stay long?' 'No, only a few minutes.'

'Oh?' He sounded surprised. 'I'd have thought ...' 'Will you stop probing!' The words were swift and fierce. 'I saw Bill for a few minutes. That's all!' His mouth tautened. 'And that's enough! You've been like a bear with a sore head ever since you got back. All right, so I can make as many allowances as the next man, but for God's sake shake yourself out of it. Now!' Those were the last words that passed between them until they reached the Ashleys, and they were almost at the front door when Ross caught her by the arm. 'You carry this on in there,' he said threateningly, 'and I'll give you an ache somewhere else. That's a promise.' She looked back into the strong hard features lit by the overhead light, and knew a moment's pure hatred. 'Don't worry,' she said, 'I shan't let either of us down.' The party was already building up to a full house. Peggy, greeted them from the kitchen doorway, waving a couple of dishes full of nuts. 'Coats in the back bedroom, titivation in the front. Not you, Ross. Come and help me take these through. I can't find Mike.' Julia went up the stairs without looking at Ross, put her coat on the bed in the back room along with what looked like several hundred others, and went along to the front of the house. There were three other women already hovering before the dressing-table mirror, one she knew and two strangers. Introductions were performed, a few words exchanged and noses powdered, then the others went on down,

leaving Julia to smooth out her skirt and run a feverish hand over her hair before following them. Lester Connelly was lounging at the foot of the staircase with a bored expression which brightened considerably when he saw her. 'The bride all alone? That makes a change. You're looking extra lovely tonight.' 'Thanks.' Julia put a hand on his arm and found the smile came easily. 'Would you like to find me a drink?' Several times during the following few hours, Julia was aware of Peggy's attempts to get her away from Lester, but the latter was far too full of his latest 'conquest' to play into her hands. Julia herself made no particular move either way. She didn't have to. From what she had seen of Ross's face across the crowded room the message had already gone home. Not jealousy, she told herself. Possessiveness. Damaged pride. Well, all right, let him suffer in some way, at least. What she and Lester talked about during those hours she had no clear idea. Whatever it was, however, she apparently was managing to keep her end up as he still showed no signs of restlessness when midnight arrived. She was leaning on the wall near the fireplace when the hour struck on the long case clock out in the hall, with Lester in front of her, one hand braced against the corner of the chimney breast at her shoulder. 'Twelve o'clock,' he said with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows. 'Time all good little girls should vanish, isn't it?' 'Right.' Ross appeared behind his shoulder, face controlled. Julia's coat was over his arm. 'That's what this one is going to do.' The eyes meeting hers were dangerous. 'Come and say good night to Peggy and Mike before we leave.'

'Oh, come on, man. Don't be a wet blanket. The night's only just got started.' Lester put a hand on Ross's shoulder man-to-man fashion. 'You can see she isn't ready to go yet.' 'Take it off,' said Ross without raising his voice, 'or I'll knock it off.' He didn't bother to turn his head as the hand was hastily removed. 'Julia.' She came away from the wall, aware of the speculative glances being cast their way, gave Lester a small blank smile and walked ahead of Ross out into the hall where Peggy and Mike were talking with a group of people. It was misty when they got outside. There was condensation on the car roof. They drove through the town in silence, and were almost at the crossroads before Ross said coldly: 'Do that again and you'll regret it.' 'What?' she asked. 'Talk to another man?' His lips were thin. 'Don't be too clever. You encouraged a man you don't even like just to get back at me. You call that adult behaviour?' 'No,' she said tonelessly, 'I don't call it anything. We talked, that's all.' 'In a corner for three hours. Discussing what - current affairs!' He slammed viciously into third. 'I'll guarantee you didn't tell him about your headache. No, that kind of conversation piece is reserved for husbands ! Well, if you're thinking of trotting it out again tonight, don't. I'm in no mood to be solicitous!' Julia sat motionless. There was a throbbing pain behind her eyes, a feeling that everything was piling up on her, suffocating her. This last three months had been a mockery. Ross didn't love her. Not as she

wanted to be loved, not as she had thought she was loved: not as she loved him. A mockery - and yet she had been happy in her ignorance. They were slowing for the turn off to Marlow. It was stifling in the car. She put out a hand blindly to open a window, felt the door give and screamed Ross's name. The last thing she remembered was his hand reaching out towards her and the screech of brakes ...

'Sorry, miss, but we'll be closing in about five minutes,' said the voice, and Julia blinked up at the uniformed figure hovering in front of her. 'I'm sorry?' 'Closing, miss. Few minutes. Afraid you'll have to be moving on.' He was apologetic. 'Winter hours, you know.' Dusk was closing in fast; already the street lamps were lit. She must have been sitting here in the park for over an hour, Julia realized. For the first time she became aware of the damp chill of the air and her numb hands. 'Are you all right, miss?' The attendant was eyeing her curiously, and she made an effort to pull herself together. 'Oh yes. Quite all right, thank you.' She got to her feet, found a smile. 'I'm afraid I was daydreaming. I'd no idea it was so late.' She could feel him watching her as she walked off towards the nearest exit, and tried her best to look purposeful, like someone with a definite destination. Not that there was any real doubt there, of course. There was nowhere else for her to go but the hotel.

The hotel and Ross, knowing that he had been with Lou so recently. Killing two birds with one stone? she had asked him last night. Taking up where he had left off would have been nearer the mark. Or would it? Today couldn't have been the first time he had seen Lou since she had left her husband, she realized. There must have been at least one other time when she had given him the Kensington phone number. At least one other time. Oddly enough she doubted that she was in any danger of losing out completely to the other woman. Ross might find Lou irresistible up to a point, but he wasn't fool enough to risk putting his trust in someone who had already let him down once. She could even accept that he loved her, Julia, in his own way. Only it wasn't her way. She wanted him wholly and completely, not to share. So what was the alternative? Another memory loss? Another desperate attempt on the part of her mind to start again from the beginning? Her mouth twisted. No, that wouldn't happen again. It couldn't. The Julia of six or seven weeks ago had been a different person. This time she was going to face up to things as they were. Only which way? Separation? Divorce? She tried to imagine a life without Ross, and felt her throat close up. All right then, an ultimatum? Make him choose between the two of them. She knew that wasn't the answer either. She would probably win, but what would it do to their marriage? It was quite dark by the time she got back to the hotel. Ross was on the telephone when she entered their room. He looked at her, said 'Forget it,' into the receiver and replaced it on the rest. 'Where the devil have you been?' he demanded. 'I was just about to try ringing Bill to see if you'd called in there.' 'He'll have gone by now,' she said. 'He never stays late on a Friday.'

'Not even when there's something worth staying on for?' Her chin lifted sharply. 'What does that mean?' There was a pause while he studied her with narrowed eyes, then he shrugged and ran a hand over his hair and got up from the bed edge. 'Nothing important. I was worried about you. What happened?' 'Nothing,' she said a shade too swiftly. 'I just ... wandered around and forgot the time.' 'The shops closed over an hour ago.' 'Not all. And there are other things to look at.' She swung away from him to put her handbag down on the chair. 'Surely I don't have to account for every minute.' 'Not if you don't feel like it.' He was watching her in the mirror, a faint frown drawing his brows together. 'Keep your little secrets. Isn't it time you were getting ready? We're meeting Dave at seven-fifteen.' They would both keep their secrets, she thought, hardening against him. For the time being, at any rate. He actually had the nerve to resent the possibility of her having been with Bill all this time. Him of all people! Seeing him now, reflected in the mirror, it was still difficult to reconcile her knowledge of him as he was with the image she had carried of him for so long. Not once but twice he had managed to convince her of his integrity. How blind women could be when it came to seeing through a man who stirred their emotions to any degree. How utterly and determinedly blind! The dress she had brought with her for the evening was a simple black sheath with cut-out sleeves. It seemed somehow appropriate to her mood. Ross had gone down to the bar by the time she came out of the bathroom, having called through the door that he would see her

there. At ten minutes past seven, Julia picked up her coat and bag and left the room to join him. For the moment she felt drained of all emotion, and actually welcomed the emptiness. There was a whole evening to get through before she could start making any kind of real decision. Whatever happened, David wasn't going to be dragged in. Not if she could help it. David had already arrived when she got down to the bar. Both men got to their feet as she came up, but it was the younger one whose face lit up. 'Nice to see you again, Julia,' he said. 'And you.' Impulsively she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, then immediately wished she hadn't. If David was still carrying a torch for her, and it seemed likely from his demeanour that he might be, then any kind of encouragement was unfair. 'A hallo and good-bye together,' she added smilingly, making a joke of it. 'At least you'll be leaving the winter behind.' 'That's right. Can't say I'm all that fond of the cold.' He was being determinedly cheerful himself. 'Martini, Julia?' 'Please.' Sitting down she caught the sardonic look in Ross's eyes and looked quickly away. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, wasn't sure that she wanted to know. If she was to get through the evening at all then she must make an effort to occupy her mind with other things, talk about something which would require her full attention. 'Have you thought any more about applying for a transfer to that North Sea oil rig?' she asked desperately when the silence had reached lengthy proportions. 'How would your work there differ from what it is now?'

'Not as much as you might think,' David answered. 'For a start I'd still be cut off from civilization and reduced to what the rig can offer by way of relaxation. For another ...' 'She said work,' his brother put in with an edge of satire. 'The stuff you get paid for.' 'Oh, that.' David grinned at him, and looked back to Julia. 'You're not really interested in hearing about oil, are you?' 'Yes,' she said firmly, 'I am. You've only ever talked round it, not about it. How, for instance, do they know where to start looking in the first place?' Ross picked up his glass and sat back. There was a smile on his lips, but the gaze resting on his wife's face was far from amused. 'It's your party, Dave:' Oil, the obtaining of, processing of and use of lasted them through a couple of drinks in the hotel, the taxi ride to the Villa Dei Cesari on Grosvenor Road and the first course of an excellent meal. By that time Julia's head was spinning with a confusion of detail for which she would almost certainly never find a use. She was more than relieved when David asked her to dance. 'I'm glad you agreed to come tonight,' he said softly when they were out on the floor. She looked steadily back at him. 'There was no reason to refuse.' 'You know there was - we both know it.' The hand at her back tightened momentarily. 'Things haven't changed at all for me, Julia. That's why I'm going back on Thursday. Running away again, you might say.'

She hardly knew what to say to him. She doubted that she would have known even if she'd been free. David was ... David. A good sort, but ... Her pulses jerked. Lou! Lou! Everything came back to Lou! She glanced back to where Ross sat alone at the table, turning his glass slowly between his hands. Was he thinking about her now? Wishing he was with her? From now on she would wonder that every time she looked at him when he wasn't aware. 'There's nothing to be gained from running away,' she said. 'Things always catch up with you eventually.' She forced the question. 'You've seen Lou this leave?' 'Yes.' His expression altered. 'Yes, I've seen her.' 'And?' He shook his head. 'And nothing. Quite frankly she left me cold. I can't think what I ever saw in her.' He caught the fleeting look in her eyes and looked suddenly sheepish. 'Oh, all right, so she still does things to my pulse rate. She would to any man's. But the rest doesn't bother me any more. Even if we had got married I'd never have kept her. She needs someone as hard as she is herself.' Ross, for instance. But he hadn't kept her either. Was that what she had to hope for, that Lou herself would tire of the relationship again? 'What are you going to do for the next few days now that Richard wants his flat back?' asked Ross when they were back at the table. 'It only has one bed, doesn't it?' 'Yes, but he's offered me the use of the settee, even if it does cramp his style with the birds, as he was quick to point out. Likes a sacrifice to be noticed, does Rick.' David glanced across to the windows with their fine view out over the Thames.- 'It's hard to think that at this time next week I'll be over two thousand miles away. Travelling

always affects me like that - air travel, anyway. I'm more the slow boat to China type.' Ross smiled. 'You were born a hundred years too late. You have to learn to be adaptable in this day and age.' 'Oh, I don't know. I might still find my own little rut to settle into one of these days.' David said it lightly. 'One thing's certain, it won't be out there.' The evening came to an end eventually. Saying good-bye to David, Julia fought the sudden wild desire to ask him to spend these last few days down at the cottage. That would only temporarily shelve the eventual decision not solve it. Ross didn't have a great deal to say in the taxi back to the hotel, but there was something in his attitude which she found disturbing. 'Nightcap?' he asked when they were in the foyer, and then as she numbly shook her head, 'Well, I'm going to have one.' There was a hard line to his jaw. 'See you upstairs.' She was in bed when he did come up some fifteen minutes later, her own bedside light turned out, the covers up to her chin and her eyes closed. He paused at the door for what seemed an age before closing it, then she heard him cross to the dressing table and the clatter of keys and loose change as he emptied his pockets. There came the soft protest of the chair cushions a, few feet away, the double thud of shoes dropping to the carpet, some more moving about and the sound of teeth being brushed. Then he was back in the bedroom, and turning out the lamp. Julia felt every nerve in her body leap unbearably as her mattress edge sagged beneath his weight. 'You're not asleep,' he said. 'So stop pretending.'

'I'm tired.' She was amazed at the evenness of her voice. 'It's been a long day.' 'So I gathered.' He paused, and she could feel him gazing down at her, although it was impossible to gauge his expression in the darkness. 'Are you going to tell me where you went this afternoon?' 'I already did. I just.. .' 'Walked. Yes, I know. Walked where?' 'Round and about.' She could hear a faint quiver in her voice now, but wasn't sure whether he had noted it yet. 'I... did a lot of thinking.' 'Oh?' His tone had altered almost imperceptibly. 'About what?' 'Us.' Who was it, Julia wondered numbly, who had said that half a truth is better than none - or was it the other way round? 'I - I've tried to forget about Enid, Ross, but it just hasn't worked out. I know it's silly and stupid, only I can't help it. It does make a difference after all. I'm sorry.' Minutes seemed to pass before he spoke. 'It's over a week since I told you about her. I wouldn't have said it had been preying on your mind all that much.' 'I told you I'd tried,' she whispered. 'You don't know how hard I've tried. I just can't, that's all. When ... Whenever you touch me I think about her. Whatever you say to me you've said it all before to her. You were right about me, Ross. I can't stand being second to anyone.' 'Just like that?' The light clicked on again, and grey eyes blazed down into blue. 'What do you think I'm made of, cast iron? I've had weeks of treating you like Dresden china, Julia. I'm damned if I'm going to

start all over again. Whatever you say I'll not believe that it's all been acting on your part this last week. You've wanted me as much as I've wanted you!' Heart hammering, she said thickly, 'There's more to marriage than physical satisfaction; I thought we were agreed on that. Give me time, Ross. Let me sort this .. . this thing out for myself.' The skin over his cheekbones seemed stretched taut. 'I'm no psychoanalyst,' he said at last, 'but if there's one thing I have learned about women it's that half the time you don't know what you do want. If I agreed to what you're suggesting you'd assume I didn't care much either way.' One hand came out and gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. 'It's no go, Julia. I'm not going to risk losing what we've managed to salvage. If you want to think about Enid, then you think about her. I certainly shan't.' Julia closed her eyes as his lips found hers. Right at this moment she didn't want to think at all.

CHAPTER NINE THERE was a phone call from Peggy on the Monday morning. 'Had a good time?' she inquired. 'I was going to ring yesterday, but I never got round to it.' 'Fine, thanks,' Julia returned automatically, although there was little else she could have said, she supposed. 'David sent his regards.' 'Good of him. He's not paying any flying visits before he leaves, then?' 'I doubt it. We said good-bye on Friday night.' Her mind snapped shut against the memories evoked by that statement. 'Ross said something about calling round later on after work. He wants to see Mike about something, I think.' 'You think?' From the sound of her voice Peggy was smiling. 'Doesn't that man of yours ever tell you anything?' 'It depends,' Julia said carefully. 'Ah well, men are like that,' on a comfortable note. 'What about our place on Thursday? I can mention it to Ross while he's here, if you like.' 'Yes, fine.' Julia wished she could think of some other adjective to use. 'What time?' 'The usual ... Oh damn!' Peggy sounded apologetic. 'Eight o'clock okay?' 'Yes ...' She bit on her tongue. 'Will it be just the four of us? 'Well, yes.' There was a pause. 'Why?'

'No particular reason. I'll look forward to it, Peggy. Thanks for ringing.' She put the receiver down with a mixture of relief and regret. Talking to Peggy represented normality, and that she craved for, yet the strain of achieving it almost outweighed the need. Normality! Standing there she thought of Ross and the cold shut-in look on his face this last two days. Since Friday night he had made no attempt to touch her in any way, had made it plain that any kind of future effort at all would have to come from her. For that at least she couldn't blame him. Few men could gain any pleasure from making love to a totally unresponsive block of wood. Not for the first time, Julia wished desperately that she could gain some hold over her own tangled emotions. Other women had been deceived by their husbands. How did they cope? Was it strength of character she was lacking, or simply enough depth of feeling to make her even want to fight for Ross. If only there was someone she could talk to. Someone she could share at least a part of this mess with. Her heart thudded suddenly. There was one person - Doctor Stewart. He knew most of the story. Could it hurt to discuss the rest? The number of the hospital wasn't hard to find. Dialling it, Julia tried not to think about whether or not she was doing the right thing. She had to have some kind of outlet or she would go mad. She asked for Doctor Stewart with fast beating heart, almost replaced the receiver during the lengthy wait before she was connected, and was glad that she hadn't the moment she heard those well remembered, even tones. 'How are you, Mrs. Mannering?' 'I - I want to come and see you,' she blurted out. 'Is it possible?'

'Anything is possible,' he returned with no hint of surprise. 'How about now?' Somehow she had known he wouldn't fail her. It had to be now, or never, and he had realized that. 'I'll be there in half an hour,' she said. Mrs. Cooper regarded her inquisitively when she went through to the kitchen in her coat to fetch the car keys. 'Going out, are you?' she asked. 'Yes.' Julia couldn't smile. 'You'll be gone before I get back, I suppose. Could you fill Shan's drinking bowl before you leave, please?' 'I will. Miss his walk this morning that dog will.' 'I know. I'll take him this afternoon instead. See you in the morning, Mrs. Cooper.' It took her just twenty minutes to drive to the hospital. The smell of polish greeted her as she went in through the main doors, and a maid glanced up incuriously without a pause in the energetic to and froing of her buffing pad. Doctor Stewart emerged from the lift a little way along the corridor, coming forward to greet her. 'I saw you arrive from the ward window,' he said. 'There's coffee waiting in Sister's office.' He saw her change of expression, and smiled reassuringly. 'Sister is busy elsewhere at the moment. We'll be uninterrupted, if that's what you want.' He didn't wait for any answer but urged her gently into the lift and pressed the button. Julia couldn't bring herself to look at him directly, although she could not avoid the reflection in the polished steel of the

door. Already the impulse and sheer desperation which had brought her this far was giving way to doubt. Doctor Stewart was obviously willing to listen, but how could he possibly help? There was nothing physically wrong with her, no tablets or medicine he could prescribe. And where did she start? How did she start? The coffee helped a little. Sitting there in the neat warm office with a cup in her hand seemed to bring matters down to a more approachable level. Doctor Stewart helped too, by not beating about the bush. 'I saw your husband last week,' he said. 'Judging by his demeanour I'd have thought most of your troubles were over, yet obviously they're not.' Julia blinked at him. 'Ross has been coming here?' 'No, we met quite by accident. A friend of mine is selling his house, and I happened to be there when your husband arrived to value it. Naturally I asked after the health of my one-time patient.' 'I see.' She chewed on her lip. 'And he said?' The doctor smiled. 'He said that you were in good health and spirits. A man of few words is your husband, but every one counts - or I thought they did. Was he so wrong?' 'Not then.' Julia put down her cup. 'Would it surprise you to hear that I've recovered my memory?' 'Interest is more like it.' He studied her shrewdly. 'When?' 'Three days ago.' She paused. 'It's rather complicated.' 'Not really. You're not the first woman to become emotionally upset by the realization that her husband has been keeping something from

her. Your husband made a mistake, admittedly, in not telling you about his first wife, but...' 'It's not that,' she put in quickly, and then trying to be perfectly honest, with herself as well as the doctor, 'Not just that. Ross told me about Enid more than a week ago.' 'Before you got your memory back? Then ...' He caught himself up. 'Go on.' Once she had begun it got easier. She told him everything, right from her visit to the office and her meeting with Lou up to the moment on Friday when she had seen Ross coming out of Lou's flat. 'Enid happened a long time ago,' she said at the end. 'So, if you want to look at it that way, did his first affair with this woman. It's the here and now that makes it all so unbearable.' 'Understandably so.' The doctor paused, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully on her face. 'You're quite certain there still is something between your husband and this other woman? Could his visit that afternoon have been for some other reason?' 'If it had been there would have been no need to lie about it, would there?' she said flatly, and got to her feet to walk across to the window with its view out over the town. 'Do you think I should leave him?' 'No,' he answered quietly, 'I think you should tell him. Give him a chance to defend himself.' 'What defence could he possibly have? What defence could any man have?' She swung round on him in swift contempt. 'Or do you think it's good for a man to have a wife and a mistress?'

'Physically speaking, it wouldn't do him any harm.' His tone was mild. 'Morally I'd be inclined to condemn it.' The anger died as swiftly as it had flared. 'I'm sorry,' she said painfully, 'I shouldn't have spoken like that. You didn't ask me to come here and tell you my problems.' 'But I can be glad that you did. Bottling things up never does anything but harm in the long run.' He waited a moment, added wryly, 'I'm only sorry I can't offer you any better advice. Having your fears confirmed couldn't make you any worse off than you are at the moment.' Only precipitate a decision she wasn't ready to make, thought Julia in a moment of truth. 'I'll think about it,' she said, and came away from the window to reach for her coat. 'It was very good of you to spare the time, Doctor Stewart. Just having someone to tell it to has helped quite a bit.' 'But not enough.' He took the coat from her and held it for her to slip her arms into the sleeves. 'I'm always here if you feel the need to talk again.' 'Thank you,' she said, and meant it. 'I'll remember that.' He came down with her to the car, closing the door after her and standing for a moment with his hand still on the handle as if he might be searching his mind for something to add to what he had already told her, before smiling a resigned good-bye. Turning out of the gates, Julia wondered what she had really expected from him. There was no instant solution to this kind of problem, only a choice of action which must eventually be her own.

The house was quiet when she got back. Mrs. Cooper had left a note stating somewhat aggrievedly that they were out of scouring powder and therefore she had been unable to 'do' the kitchen sink. She would bring some with her in the morning. Meanwhile, Julia gathered, she must put up with a tea stain which must be all of an inch across. She ate a quick lunch of toast washed down with coffee, took Shan for a walk until teatime, and decided on a Chicken Marengo for supper as the afternoon dragged into evening. Ross came home at eight, ate what was put in front of him without comment and retired to the sitting- room with the evening paper and a cigarette. When Julia finally went through herself he was putting another log on the fire, his features etched sharply in the flickering light. 'Peggy said she rang you this morning,' he said expressionlessly as she took the chair opposite. 'I phoned myself only ten minutes or so later, but you'd gone out.' 'Yes.' The hesitation was brief enough to go unnoticed. 'I went to town.' 'Buy anything?' 'No, just looked around.' He straightened, brushed his hands together and turned with some deliberation to look at her. 'Then Mrs. Cooper was mistaken in thinking you'd gone to keep an appointment with a certain Doctor Stewart?' Colour came and went in her face. 'All right, I saw Doctor Stewart.' 'Then why not say so?'

'Because you don't make it very easy.' She had her hands tightly folded in her lap. 'I ... needed someone to talk to.' 'You could try me.' 'I did,' she said, and saw his jaw tense. There was a lengthy pause before he answered that one. 'I said I was no psycho-analyst. If it's any comfort, the experience did me little good either. I can't say I like the idea of you running to Stewart for advice, but if it's going to help at all then I'll put up with it. When are you seeing him again?' 'I'm not.' Julia swallowed on the lump in her throat. 'He's no psychiatrist either.' 'Just a man who understands you better than I do?' with a return to harshness. 'Well, that's not hard. He was certainly on the ball about not telling you some things too soon. If I'd had the sense to keep my mouth shut we might still have had a marriage.' 'Based on what?' she was stirred to respond. She got jerkily to her feet. 'I'm going to bed.' 'Julia.' He made a small movement towards her, checked, and thrust his hands into his pockets. 'Where exactly do we go from here?' 'I don't know,' she said with truth. 'I really don't know, Ross.' 'Then you'd better start deciding. And soon. I'm not cut out for this kind of emotional seesaw.' He turned away from her abruptly. 'I'll move back into the other room while you're thinking about it.' If there had been an opportunity for confrontation at all the moment was past. 'You may as well,' she said, and left him standing there.

Julia went through the rest of that week in a kind of limbo. Dinner at the Ashleys provided a diversion she both welcomed and dreaded, but if Peggy noted any radical differences in behaviour between her and Ross she made no comment. On the surface Ross was no different. He talked, he laughed, he gave every appearance of not having any more than the average man's problems on his plate. It was only in his eyes that Julia could see the change beginning. When he looked at her now it was almost clinically. She was losing him, yet could bring herself to do nothing about it. It took a telephone call to jolt her out of the emotional no-man's-land into which she had been sinking herself. Ross took it half-way through breakfast on the Friday morning, closing the kitchen door so that Julia was unable to hear any of the conversation. When he came back there seemed to be a new air of purpose about him. 'I'll be away for the day,' he announced. 'Possibly overnight. I don't suppose that will worry you overmuch.' He gave her no time to form a reply - if there was a reply. 'It might be a good opportunity to try and sort yourself out, decide what you want to do.' He gave her a level glance. 'I made the mistake once of trying to hang on to something that was finished. This time I'll go along. Only make up your mind one way or the other, Julia.' He dropped his napkin back on to the table. 'I'll go and throw a few things into a bag.' 'No.' She came abruptly to her feet. 'I'll do that. You finish your breakfast.' It took her just three minutes to put what would be needed into an overnight bag. Three minutes, and a whole lifetime. That had been Lou on the phone, and Ross was going to her. Well, let him go. Let Lou have him. She hoped they would be happy together. When he came back tomorrow she wouldn't be here. It was as simple as that.

He was waiting in the hall when she went down. He took the bag from her with a brief word of thanks, picked up his overcoat and seemed to hesitate just for a moment as he glanced back at her, an indefinable expression crossing his face before the shutter came down once more. 'Be seeing you,' he said. The house seemed unbearably empty after he had gone. Julia showered and dressed, came downstairs again to the accompaniment of 'Rose of Tralee' from the kitchen and knew herself incapable of putting on a front for anyone else this morning. The car keys were still in her coat pocket from Monday. She let herself out of the front door very quietly, got the car out and drove off down the lane without a backward glance. Nothing she did would surprise Mrs. Cooper all that much, and anything was better than sitting around in there thinking about Ross on his way to London and the woman who waited for him. Driving still required all of her concentration. She hadn't consciously planned where she was going, yet somehow it came as no surprise to find herself approaching the hill where Ross had stopped that afternoon several weeks ago. She pulled in at the same spot, switched off the engine and sat looking at the view, sharp and clear under the frosty blue sky. Winter was just around the corner; a hard one this year by all accounts. Already the leaves were gone from the trees. She thought of the garden back at the cottage, of the work she had done in it during these last months. It had been a struggle at times just keeping down the weeds, but the results had been worthwhile. Gardens were like that: one only got out of them what one put in. Looking back now to the beginning, she could see so many ways in which she had gone wrong. Marriage had been a game, a novelty,

Ross a father, a brother, a lover, but never wholly acknowledged as a husband. She hadn't been ready for marriage then; she realized that now. She hadn't been capable of bringing any real depth of emotion to any relationship. A sigh escaped her. Doctor Stewart was right, of course. She had to stay and face this thing out. Leaving Ross would be a gesture, not a solution, and one which would hurt her the most in the long run. If Ross was worth having at all then he was worth fighting for providing it wasn't already too late. She took her time going back to the house, driving around until she was sure that Mrs. Cooper would have left and she could have it to herself. There was a car standing in the lane when she eventually turned the corner. A red Capri with a London registration. Her first thought was that David had not, after all, returned to Algeria. She went indoors quickly, passed through the archway into the sittingroom and stopped dead in her tracks as Lou rose from a chair. 'Your daily woman let me stay on to wait for you,' she said with a faint smile. 'Rather dubiously, I might add. I made myself some coffee. I hope you don't mind?' Julia shook her head slowly, her mind whirling. If Lou was here then where was Ross? 'That isn't your car outside,' she said. 'No, it's hired. Mine's in dock. I'm on my way down to Lymington to spend the week-end with friends.' Lou paused, her glance going round the room. 'Nice place. It was still in the rough stages when I saw it that weekend I came down here with David.' She came back to Julia, and her tone altered a fraction. 'Bill said you were asking for my address last week. Did you find what you were looking for?'

The irony, Julia thought, must be imaginary. Lou couldn't know. 'Yes,' she said, and then with rather more alacrity, 'You didn't make a detour just to ask me that.' 'No, I didn't.' The other was still perfectly calm. 'You remember the last time we met I said that there were some things I drew the line at?' Julia's brows came together. 'Yes, I think I do. Wasn't it right after you told me about Enid?' 'Believe it or not, that was unintentional.' For the first time Lou seemed to hesitate. 'The other was - or at least, I didn't try very hard to control the impulse.' 'The ... other?' 'When you asked me how I knew about her. Just for a second or two I wanted to drop Ross right in it, pay him out.' Her shoulders lifted. 'By the time I'd had second thoughts you were gone.' Julia stared at her, her heart thudding against her ribs. 'What are you trying to say?' 'Trying is the right word. I'm not very good at this - putting things right. I probably wouldn't even have bothered if Bill hadn't been quite so concerned about your state of mind when he saw you. It worked, didn't it? You took it that Ross and I must have been pretty close at some time for me to know so much about his personal affairs.' This time there was no mistaking the irony. 'The truth is that if it had been up to me we'd have had far more than just an affair. It's odd, isn't it, how the one thing you really want usually turns out to be one thing you can't have. Even if I hadn't been engaged to Dave, I don't think it would have been any good. Ross didn't see me, he saw Enid.'

Julia drew in a shaky breath. 'So it was David who told you about her.' 'It was. I don't suppose it occurred to you to consider that possibility. It's the way the female mind works - always ready to see the worst.' She bent and picked up her coat from the arm of the settee. 'Well, that's my Girl Guide bit over and done with, so I'll be getting on my way. I'm supposed to be down there for lunch.' The pause was brief. 'By the way, you might tell Ross that he doesn't have to worry about Dave any more. I've thought about what he said last week, and I'm getting in touch with my husband.' She smiled. 'It may not work out any better, but at least I'll have given it a fair crack of the whip.' 'Lou,' Julia's voice was so low she could barely hear it herself, 'thanks.' The other looked back from the archway. 'Don't mention it. I only hope you appreciate what you've got.' Appreciate, thought Julia, wasn't the word. She listened achingly to the footsteps on the flags, the slam of the car door and the starting of the engine. Only when the sound had died away in the distance did she move blindly to a chair and sink into it. What she had done to their marriage was unthinkable, but it had to be faced. This wasn't something she could hide from, turn her back on, pretend never happened. She could find some mitigation in the shock of finding out as she had about Ross's previous marriage, but not enough. She had tried and condemned him without a hearing, given in to emotionalism like an irresponsible child rather than a rational adult. Lou was right, she didn't deserve to have a man like Ross love her - if he still did. Her lips firmed with deliberation. Sitting here brooding about it wasn't going to help. If it really was too late to start making amends then that was something she would have to face too. Only she didn't think it was. There was more depth to Ross than that, more than she

had been capable of understanding. Telling him the truth wasn't going to be easy; self-accusation rarely was. But she owed him honesty now. Above all things she owed him that. The afternoon seemed to last for ever. Had she been able to count on Ross coming home that evening it might not have been quite so bad. As it was she could only sit there and wait, alternating between the hope and dread of his telephoning. She needed, badly, to hear his voice, but this wasn't something she could sort out over the phone. She would have to see him, to watch his eyes to know for certain that his feelings for her still existed in any real measure. It was completely dark by five o'clock, with a mist coming in over the fields. Julia brought Shan indoors for company and made up the fire, dully accepting that she was going to be spending the night alone. At seven she forced herself to eat a sandwich and drink half a cup of coffee, then chose a book from the shelf and attempted to lose herself in print. When she heard the car coming slowly along the lane it was with an odd mixture of relief and reticence. Why the car was coming so slowly was explained when she opened the door. The mist had thickened and lowered until visibility was down to about thirty feet or so. The engine sound was muffled. It wasn't until the vehicle came close enough to take on shape and form that she realized it wasn't Ross at all; it was Mike. Heart hammering in sudden premonition, she left the door and ran down the path to the gate, almost falling into Peggy's arms as she wrenched it open. 'Something has happened to Ross!' she cried wildly. 'It has, hasn't it?' 'He's been in an accident.' Peggy had hold of her hands. 'We've come to take you to the hospital, Julia. Ross didn't want you making the journey alone.'

Julia closed her eyes and momentarily sagged against her. He was alive. Ross was alive! 'You'll need a coat,' Peggy was saying. 'Mike is turning the car round on the drive so that we can get straight off. The fog is getting thicker by the minute. We almost went into the ditch ourselves a bit back.' Somehow Julia found herself with a coat round her shoulders and outside the door again. Peggy locked up and put the key in her own pocket, then they both went back down the path and got into the car. Mike turned his head to give her a small, reassuring smile, and set off into the greyness swirling down over the hedges, peering ahead along the twin paths of blanketed radiance as he steered the car slowly and carefully between the traps which lay either side of the narrow lane. 'Tell me what happened,' Julia said to Peggy. 'How did you ...' 'They came to us first on Ross's own insistence. Apparently there was a three-car pile-up coming into town on the Lyndhurst road - the fog has been fairly bad all afternoon down our end. About six o'clock, the police told us.' 'Did they ... say how badly he was injured?' 'No. The police never do.' Peggy's hold on her arm tightened a little. 'He was obviously conscious, anyway. Try not to worry, Julia.' Try not to worry - that same old meaningless injunction an automatic standby in times of stress. Try not to worry, when her whole life was wrapped around the man they were talking about. 'Can't we go faster?' she said. 'A bit, once we're out of the lane.' Mike didn't take his eyes from the windscreen. 'We'll get you there, Julia.'

Afterwards she actually recalled little of the journey, only her feverish urgency and dreadful fear. They reached the hospital just before eight-thirty, to be told that Ross was in the theatre. A nurse fetched them some tea, but Julia couldn't bring herself to drink hers; she felt it would choke her. For the first time she began to realize what Ross must have gone through the night he had waited like this for news of her condition, the agony of sitting so helplessly by while the minutes ticked away. When the green-gowned figure finally emerged from the theatre lift, she could hardly bring herself to look at him. She knew what he was going to say. 'Your husband is going to be all right, Mrs. Mannering. A broken arm, a couple of cracked ribs and severe bruising, but no punctured lung, as we first feared. He'll be out of here in a few days.' Mistily she was aware of Peggy and Mike, one each side of her like bulwarks in a storm, of the sharp smell of antiseptic and the surgeon's tired, understanding face. 'Thank you,' she said. 'Thank you.' They let her in to see Ross at seven in the morning. His face seemed somehow thinner than before, but the eyes which met hers were as enigmatic as always. 'The tables turned,' he said with a faint smile. 'Have you sat out there all night?' 'No, they found me an armchair in the waiting- room.' She didn't add that she hadn't slept a wink. 'Peggy and Mike went home, but they're hoping to see you later on today.' She paused uncertainly, looked at the line of his mouth and knew then that it was going to be up to her. He had finished making the overtures. His good hand was lying on top of the covers. She put hers over it, started to say something - she had no idea what - and was seized by a rush of emotion which needed

a greater outlet than any words could afford. She put her lips to the back of his hand, cradled it against her cheek and then to her breast, felt the tears prickling behind her lids and made no attempt to overcome them. 'I thought I'd lost you,' she whispered. 'Not a chance.' There was a smile on his lips but a quality of reserve still in his voice. 'I'm not finished with living yet.' 'Or ... loving?' It was out, the appeal she couldn't help. She saw his face change, the sudden leap in his eyes, and she had her answer. She said simply and clearly, 'I love you, Ross. Not just in love this time. The real thing.' He searched her face, said gently, 'Are you sure you know the difference?' 'I've found the difference. It's taken me a long time, but I'm sure.' Her voice trembled just a little. 'Do you remember telling me once that I was a child in some things? I thought at the time that you meant physical awareness. I said, I think, that you were expecting too much.' 'I remember.' His gaze had sharpened. 'It was while we were in Austria.' 'Yes.' She smiled. 'On our honeymoon.' It was a moment or two before he said quietly, 'How long have you been able to remember, Julia?' 'Since the day you went to see Lou.' It had to come out, all of it, but it took all of her courage to carry on. 'I was just along the street when you came out of the flat.' Julia told the story, haltingly, from the time of her meeting with Lou, stumbling over the words, not daring to look at his face for fear of

what she would see there. When at last she was through, she just sat there waiting for the axe to fall on her head, for him to tell her coldly what he thought of her. But he didn't. He didn't say a word. Eventually she had to look at him, to find him regarding her with an odd little smile on his lips. 'It's generally accepted,' he said, 'that love and trust go together. Only they don't - not always. Has it occurred to you yet to wonder why I never mentioned that day you spent in London?' He didn't wait for an answer. 'I knew when I married you that I felt a great deal more for you than you did for me, but I had confidence enough to believe I could change that in time. I even thought I'd managed to bury my jealousy over Bill, until that night when you came back from visiting him in such a changed mood. If Bill had known anything at all about Enid, I might have considered the possibility of his having told you. As he didn't, the only other explanation seemed to be that you'd finally realized the mistake you'd made in marrying me instead of him. When you lost your memory of everyone except Bill it confirmed it for me, although I still clung to the faint hope that I might be wrong. So you see, there have been faults on both sides, with rather more excuse for yours than for mine. If I could conceal a wife, why not an affair or two?' Julia swallowed hard on the dryness in her throat. 'You don't believe me, do you?' she said with difficulty. 'You still don't think I'm capable of loving you in the way you want.' He smiled slightly. 'I think you believe it, and that's a good start. We can build from there.' He put his hand over her mouth as she opened it again, wincing as he moved. 'Let's leave it at that, Julia. I've got you back, and that's all that matters right now.' Her chest was tight with a pain which was almost physical. What could she say to convince him? Did the words exist? No, she thought, none that signified enough. She looked at the firm, familiar features,

at the mouth she hadn't believed knew the meaning of compromise. It was pure instinct which put her lips to his, pure unthinking feeling which moved them so softly, so tenderly, so yearningly that there was little room left for any kind of doubt. Ross had his arm around her, holding her close as if he would never let her go, ignoring the pain until Julia herself remembered his injuries and broke away. 'Ross, your ribs!' His brows were drawn together, but there was light and laughter in his eyes. 'It's worth it,' he said. 'I'll bet Adam thought so too!'