Beyond Compare

She could see it now, the cupboards dragged in sunny yellow, with perhaps a circlet of ivy and white dog-roses painted on the fronts. She could sponge the walls to match and make roller blinds that faithfully copied the landscape outside the windows.

Upstairs, this long corridor just cried out for something jolly and period… a scene from an alehouse, perhaps. There must be something she could use as a base in Chester library’s local history section. Carried away with enthusiasm, she forgot her nervousness.

‘It’s a pity you can’t stay up here longer and get this place sorted out for me,’ Drew commented, watching her.

‘I’d love to,’ she admitted, her eyes sparkling at the thought.

‘My bedroom’s here,’ he told her, pushing open a door.

It was a large room on the same side of the house as her own, but with more windows. It had a huge bed set in a carved cherrywood frame.

‘Oh, Drew, I love this!’ she told him reverently, forgetting his socks and touching the carving with gentle fingers.

‘Do you? I’m glad… I did it myself.’ He saw her astonishment and smiled. ‘Woodwork has always been a hobby of mine.’

Holly looked round the bedroom with new eyes, noting the wardrobe and dresser. ‘Did you make those as well?’ she asked him. He nodded.

But, beautiful though the furniture was, it needed the right setting to show it off properly. The bedroom’s walls and ceiling were painted magnolia, and looked dull, like the plain brown carpet and the beige curtains.

As though he read her mind, Drew said apologetically, ‘Knowing my problem with colours, I played it safe and chose ones I knew I could recognise.’

He was unexpectedly tidy for a man, far tidier than she was herself, she acknowledged guiltily, and far more domesticated. The meal he had prepared for them last night had been delicious, but then, living alone, he had no doubt had to learn how to look after himself.

‘We’d better get the socks, otherwise we’re going to be late.’ He walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer, and then turned to Holly, and said, ‘I suspect it would save time if you got them out for me.’

Obligingly, Holly went to the open drawer. Because Drew had opened it to its fullest extent, there was hardly enough space between his body and the bed for her to get past, but she managed it by wriggling slightly.

‘Here you are. I think these are black,’ she told him breathlessly, rifling through the drawer until she found the right pair. ‘I’ll… I’ll wait for you outside while you put them on.’

She saw his eyebrows lift and blushed furiously, but he didn’t make the kind of scathing comment Howard would have made in the same circumstances, simply smiling at her and watching her go.

She had forgotten that he was colour-blind, she mused as she waited for him; that would, of course, explain the awful combination of red sweater and brown cords into which he had changed last night.

Howard had perfect clothes sense. So perfect, in fact, that at times he criticised Holly’s own choice. Take this dress she was wearing tonight, for instance. Howard didn’t like her wearing red, he preferred her in pastel colours; he considered them to be far more feminine.

Drew didn’t keep her waiting long, ushering her outside into the cool October evening.

She was about to cross the yard when he forestalled her, swinging her up into his arms as he had done the previous day.

‘Drew!’ she protested breathlessly.

‘You’re wearing those idiotic heels again,’ he growled. ‘Don’t you ever wear sensible shoes?’

‘I can’t,’ she told him sadly. ‘I’m only five foot two, you know. I need the height.’

‘What for?’

For some reason his question flustered her, and she was glad that they had reached the Land Rover. Or had they? She peered at the vehicle in front of them, realising that it wasn’t the one she had travelled in the previous day.

‘Drew, this is a Range Rover.’

‘So it is,’ he agreed laconically.

It was almost brand new as well, Holly recognised as she saw the number-plate, and so luxurious inside that her eyes rounded in surprise.

‘I didn’t know you owned this.’

‘No? Well, you wouldn’t, would you?’

‘But, Drew, they’re terribly expensive.’

She couldn’t help remembering how as a teenager Drew had always had less money than the rest of them, and she suspected he must have bought the vehicle in a last-ditch attempt to impress Rosamund.

Poor Drew, she thought, tears stinging her eyes as he got in beside her and started the engine. His situation was so much worse than hers. At least she could escape back to London, but Drew would be forced to live almost side by side with Rosamund and Howard. But at least that way he would be there as a constant reminder of what they had once shared, while Howard…

They drove through the village and out again along the road off which Rosamund’s father had built his house. The last time Holly had visited it had been for Rosamund’s eighteenth birthday. That had been one May, with a marquee on the lawn and every other fashionable expense Rosamund’s mother could think of.

Tonight there was no marquee, but the line-up of cars down the long drive was evidence of the new social sphere in which Rosamund and her parents moved—Porsche, Jaguar, Mercedes and Rolls—and a tiny tremor of fear quaked through Holly.

Drew found a parking spot half-way down the drive, parking the Range Rover with commendable expertise.

Someone was walking down the drive toward them; a couple, to judge from the light female voice and its deeper male counterpart.

The footsteps stopped as they drew level with the Range Rover, and a voice Holly vaguely recognised demanded, ‘Drew, is that you?’

‘Hello, Jane—and Guy. How are you?’

‘Oh, we’re fine.’

Of course, Jane Phillips; Holly remembered her now. She had been quite a few years ahead of her in school. In the same class as Drew, come to think of it.

‘Good heavens!’ she exclaimed as Holly stepped forward. ‘It’s Holly Witchell, isn’t it? Well, now, how long have you two been together? Guy and I have just come back from the States. Guy’s been working over there for six months. Is this a new thing, or…?’

‘Stop gossiping, woman, I’m freezing,’ her husband interrupted.

When Drew would have fallen into step beside him Holly tugged on his arm and fibbed, ‘Drew, I’ve left my handbag in the Range Rover.’

While Drew patiently unlocked the door, Holly waited until the other couple were out of sight and then hissed, ‘It’s all right, Drew. I’ve got my handbag here, but I’ve just had the most marvellous idea! Well, it was Jane who gave it to me, really.’ She took a deep breath and then demanded, ‘Why don’t we pretend that we’re in love?’

Drew went so still and silent that Holly wondered if she ought to have broken the idea to him more gently.

‘With each other, I presume you mean?’ he said cautiously at last.

‘Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,’ Holly agreed, trying to control her impatience. Really, men could be so slow at times! Why on earth hadn’t she thought of it before? It was the ideal way for both of them to reconjure their ex-partners’ interest.

‘But I thought you were in love with Howard?’

‘I am,’ Holly agreed. ‘But can’t you see, the moment he starts to think I’ve fallen in love with you, he’s going to be so jealous… and of course, it will work the same way for you with Rosamund,’ she added hastily, just in case he should accuse her of being selfish.

‘Let me get this right,’ Drew said slowly. ‘You want us to pretend that we’re in love?’ He paused and then said slowly, ‘How much in love, Holly? What I mean to say is, are we newly in love, or are we to be—er—established lovers?’

‘Oh, newly in love, definitely,’ Holly told him. ‘You see, Howard is bound to guess what’s going on otherwise. He only told me about Rosamund a couple of weeks ago.’

‘Yes. Well, I can see that does rather complicate things. So, the impression we want to create is one of having taken one look at each other and fallen into one another’s arms with cries of rapture.’

‘Yes,’ Holly agreed doubtfully, suddenly unable to imagine how on earth they were going to achieve such an implausible deception. ‘You think it’s a silly idea, don’t you?’ she said quietly. ‘And I suppose you’re right.’

‘No, not silly,’ he surprised her by saying unsteadily, ‘but maybe a trifle ambitious.’

In the light of the pseudo-Victorian streetlamps that illuminated the entire length of the drive in a fashion more suited to a motorway service station, Holly saw the smile he struggled to control. Strangely, she was not offended by it.

‘I think we could perhaps carry it off, though, if we amended your plan slightly.’

Holly frowned and looked at him. ‘How?’

‘Well, let us suppose that we allow everyone to believe that one of us—me, for instance—has been secretly, madly in love with you for years. You, having bumped into me, have suddenly realised how very fanciable I am, and here we are.’

‘Well, yes,’ Holly agreed doubtfully, ‘but who’s going to believe you’ve been secretly in love with me, when everyone knows you’ve been going out with Rosamund?’

‘Well, it won’t be easy. But think of the effect it will have on the happy couple. Rosamund is a very jealous woman. Once she hears that I’ve really been in love with you all these years… well, she won’t like it.’

‘No, I don’t suppose she will,’ Holly agreed faintly. She was beginning to feel almost jealous of Drew’s inventiveness, wishing that she had been the one to get the role of the secretly pining lover.

‘You know, it’s a pity you have to rush back to London so soon,’ Drew told her casually. ‘I think if you could have managed to stick around for a while, the sight of us together would be almost bound to get results.’

‘Yes,’ Holly agreed regretfully. ‘It’s true what they say about propinquity.’

Drew muttered something under his breath, and she looked questioningly at him.

‘Er—nothing. Is it agreed, then? When we arrive in the Jensens’ drawing-room, we arrive as a couple?’

Holly took a deep breath and confirmed, ‘Yes.’

And then, before she could change her mind, she took a deep breath and added, ‘And I could stay on if you really think it might work, Drew. I’ve got over a month’s worth of holiday owing to me. That’s if you really think…’

‘Oh, yes, I’m sure it will work,’ he told her confidently. ‘You could decorate the kitchen for me. I’d pay you, of course.’

‘Oh, no!’ Holly was horrified. ‘Well, not unless you let me pay my board and food. Of course, I’ll have to check with Jan, she’s my boss, but I’m sure she won’t mind. Things are relatively slack at the moment.’

‘So it’s settled. Right, then, are you ready to face your audience, Holly Witchell?’

‘Yes… Yes, I think so.’

‘Come on, then, let’s go.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘ANDREW! HOW LOVELY… Oh, and Polly, isn’t it?’ Rosamund’s mother said, in a voice far cooler than the one she had welcomed Drew with.

‘Holly, actually, Marsha,’ Drew corrected her calmly.

Somehow or other he had taken told of her hand, Holly discovered, and he was now drawing her forward, and tucking her against his side as though she was as precious and delicate as rare porcelain.

It was a comforting feeling, having the warm bulk of him there next to her; it gave her the confidence to return Marsha Jensen’s critical stare.

‘What a very unusual dress,’ the older woman commented. ‘Of course, we’re rather out of touch with London fashions.’

‘Holly’s wearing it especially for me. She knows I love her in red.’

Holly was stunned. She stared at Drew, wondering if she had heard him correctly. When had he got the sophisticated confidence to pay such compliments, and in such a lazily drawling voice that her arms had come out in a rash of goosebumps… or was that because she could see Howard and Rosamund coming toward them? Yes, of course it was.

‘Drew, darling!’ Rosamund cooed, leaving her new fiancé’s side to wrap thin white arms round Drew’s neck and to pull his head down so that she could kiss his mouth.

It was a very long kiss. A kiss which made Holly feel acutely uncomfortable and burningly angry on Drew’s behalf. How dared Rosamund torment him like that, reminding him of what had once been?

Howard had no such embrace for her. He acknowledged her with a warm smile, though, his eyebrows lifting slightly as he studied her dress.

‘Red, Holly?’ he said teasingly. ‘You know it isn’t your colour.’

‘On the contrary, I think it suits her,’ Drew contradicted him flatly. ‘And since she’s wearing it for me, and not for you…’

‘Good heavens, Drew darling, what on earth are you trying to say?’ Rosamund interrupted with an acid look at Holly, but before Drew could say a word Jane and Guy joined them, Jane hugging Rosamund and congratulating Howard, and then stepping back to say excitedly, ‘Rosamund, you’ve been keeping me in the dark. You wrote to tell me about you and Howard, but you never said a word about Drew and Holly.’

‘Drew and Holly?’

The sharpness in Rosamund’s voice made it carry, and several other people looked over to them, curious to know what was going on. Everyone went silent, and Holly felt as though the whole room was staring at them. Instinctively she nestled closer to Drew’s side, welcoming the protective comfort of his arm around her.

To her relief, Drew broke the expectant silence, saying calmly, ‘We weren’t going to say anything yet. We didn’t want to spoil your thunder, did we, darling?’

Darling? Holly gulped and looked up at him, and for a moment was so dazzled by the look in his eyes that she could hardly even think, never mind articulate any thoughts.

‘I see. So you’ll be up here permanently from now on, will you, Holly?’ Rosamund questioned coldly. ‘Where will you be staying? Your parents’ house still has tenants, doesn’t it?’

‘She’s staying at the farm with me,’ Drew announced quietly.

Now they really did have everyone’s attention. A dark flush of unattractive colour stained Rosamund’s face. Howard was staring at her as though he had never seen her before, Holly recognised, his eyes both accusing and angry.

‘Good heavens, Holly,’ Rosamund exclaimed brittlely, ‘how very brave of you. I’m afraid I’m a little too old-fashioned for that kind of thing, and to be honest Mummy and Daddy would go spare if I even suggested it. Aren’t you afraid that Drew will change his mind and refuse to marry you?’

To her own astonishment, Holly heard herself saying calmly, ‘The days are gone when a woman needed to barter her virginity in exchange for the sometimes doubtful security of marriage, Rosamund. I think both Drew and I know what we’re doing.’

She looked hesitantly at Drew, her eyes unconsciously pleading with him for help. He gave it promptly, dropping an unexpected kiss on her nose and saying, ‘You’re the one who’s insisting on waiting. If I had my way I’d marry you tomorrow.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.