скачать книгу бесплатно
Judith waited for her to go on, unable to trust herself to speak. The feeling of foreboding was fierce within her heart.
‘Last Easter,’ the girl began at last, ‘Simon came down to stay at the farm for a few days. Alex had to work most of the time and I...well, it fell to me mostly to entertain Simon.
‘It wasn’t Simon’s fault. Really and truly. I threw myself at him and he...well...I knew he didn’t really love me, that it was just...you know. But I didn’t care. I was mad about him. I even told him it was safe. I had this silly idea that you couldn’t get pregnant the first time. By the time I realised I was, I knew there was no chance between Simon and me. He’d been gone for weeks and hadn’t answered any of my letters. Then Alex got a note saying he’d met this great girl and was going to marry her...’
Karen looked wretched and Judith just stared at her.
She was not feeling what she should be. She was not shocked over Simon’s less than gallant conduct, just increasingly terrified of hearing what she feared would come next. Her expression must have revealed some of her turmoil for Karen rose and came forward and took her hand in a gesture of sympathy.
‘I’m truly sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I know this must be hurting you, but I have to make you understand. I have to know.’
‘Go on,’ said Judith coldly, drawing her hand away. No one warmed to the bearer of ill tidings.
‘I had an abortion,’ came her reluctant admission. ‘An aunt of mine in Sydney helped without telling the rest of the family, but when I came home I had a type of nervous breakdown. Everyone tried to find out what was wrong but I never told them.
‘Then the invitation to your wedding came and Alex thought it would cheer me up to go. I couldn’t cope with that and refused to come. The night before Alex left to come here he tried to persuade me again. I’m afraid I became hysterical and told him the truth.
‘I’ll never forget the look on his face. It was horrible. I tried explaining that Simon wasn’t to blame but he didn’t believe me. Alex is not one to forget or forgive. I knew he’d do something awful, and he did, didn’t he? Simon’s dead...’
All the blood had drained from Judith’s face. Karen’s words were almost too distressing to contemplate, the truth behind them starkly plain for Judith to see. Alexander had used her, used her to gain revenge. Maybe he wasn’t a murderer in the literal sense of the word, but he was very definitely to blame for the circumstances leading up to Simon’s death. She could well have understood his beating Simon up, but to involve an innocent party...
Innocent? How could she call herself that? She hadn’t been innocent. She’d allowed herself to be seduced, had wallowed in the moments of betrayal almost as much as Alexander had. Even poor dead Simon could not claim total innocence. He should have protected his friend’s kid sister, not slept with her.
The only true innocent in all this was the girl standing in front of her, who could be no more than seventeen. She didn’t deserve to suffer any more. Judith knew her own life was destroyed. She could not destroy Karen’s further.
‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ the girl pleaded. ‘Tell me Alex wasn’t in any way to blame for Simon’s death. I’ve been so afraid.’
Judith gathered all her mental and emotional strength. ‘Let me assure you, Karen,’ she lied staunchly, ‘that Alexander had nothing to do with Simon’s death. Simon was entirely at fault. He went joyriding in his own sports car while drunk. He lost control on some gravel on a corner, skidded off the road and crashed into a tree. Alexander had nothing to do with it. He and Simon had been getting along famously all week so Simon must have made him understand what happened where you and he were concerned.
‘For pity’s sake don’t accuse him of anything. Let it go, Karen. Go home and let it go. Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go and get ready to go home too. I have to catch tonight’s train back to Sydney.’
She didn’t wait to see the relief in the girl’s face, walking back inside like some half-charged robot. She went upstairs to her room, where she sat down and wrote to Alex, telling him she was sorry but she knew they would never find happiness after Simon’s death and she didn’t want to see him ever again.
It wasn’t till much later that she realised what a futile gesture it had been. She’d thought she was protecting Karen at the time, but of course Alexander would never have come after her. The only thing she’d gained by writing that letter was that she’d started taking control of her life again after being severely out of control since meeting him.
After posting the letter, she’d taken the train back to Sydney that night, quit her job and her shared flat, then accepted the first live-in nursing job she could find. She’d been installed in the Pascoll home within thirty-six hours of arriving at Central Station.
Judith shook herself back to the present, taking some comfort this time not from hugging Peter Panda but from the harsh memories themselves. Remembering what had happened would keep her on her guard against Alexander tonight.
Not that she really had anything to fear. Alex’s own conscience should keep him at bay this time. It would take an especially wicked individual to ignore his own ignominy and act as if it had never happened.
Judith didn’t doubt that Alexander was going to get quite a shock when he saw her tonight. And in a way that gave her a perverse sense of satisfaction. The man should never be allowed to forget what he had done. When he saw her he would be forced to remember. She might even slip in the odd barb or two, make him suffer a little as she had suffered over the years. At the same time she would give the impression that she had well and truly recovered and was on the verge of a superbly happy life.
It would not be easy to put all that across, but she was determined to do it.
But when she placed Peter back on her bed and turned to pick up her tapestry evening purse from her dressing-table she became aware of dozens of black beady eyes following her every movement. For the first time in her life, Judith found no comfort in her friends’ presence. They seemed to be looking at her with worry, not warmth. Peter especially.
‘I’ll be careful,’ she said at last. ‘I promise.’
And, steeling herself, she left the sanctuary of her bedroom and hurried along the hall in the direction of the stairs.
Raymond was already waiting for her at the door, looking a little agitated, probably because she was a few minutes late. His eyes lifted to watch her descent and when her jacket flapped open the shock on his face was evident.
His reaction annoyed her. ‘Don’t you like the way I look?’ she was driven to ask when she joined him.
‘What? Oh, yes...of course.’ He gave her another long, frowning look. ‘You look quite...striking.’
‘Thank you, Raymond,’ she returned coolly, irritated that his admiration had been so slow in coming. If you could call the way he was looking at her admiration. His expression was more like one of troubled speculation. Judith sighed inwardly. She certainly didn’t seem to be finding favour with him tonight.
Not that she could really blame him. She wasn’t being her usual quiet, amenable self, that was for sure.
Feeling suddenly guilty, she linked an affectionate arm through his and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Don’t look so worried,’ she said soothingly. ‘I’ll be nice to Margaret tonight, and I promise I won’t make a scene with Mr Fairchild.’
Raymond relaxed a little and patted her hand. ‘Thank God for that. I’m having important business dealings with the man and I wouldn’t like anything to interfere with them.’
Important business dealings?
Judith blinked her confusion. Raymond’s business was a large frozen food company inherited from his father, it’s main products being vegetables. His life was running this company, and he ran it very profitably. When he’d told Judith about his having to put off a business dinner with Alexander and invite him to the party tonight instead, she’d assumed he was signing him up to supply fresh vegetables. Alexander was, after all, a farmer.
‘I’m not sure I understand,’ she said. ‘What kind of important dealings?’
‘I want to buy some land from him,’ Raymond explained as he opened the front door. ‘I’m going into the crop-growing business myself. It’ll be much cheaper in the long run than buying supplies from various farmers.’
‘You mean you’re buying Alexander’s farm?’
‘What on earth are you talking about, Judith?’
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh, I see. Alexander’s given up farming and gone back into banking.’
Now Raymond was the one who looked puzzled. ‘Banking? Fairchild’s no banker. He’s in real estate. Owns great tracts of rich land in the Riverina and along the Southern coastline.’
‘But...but...’
‘Come, Judith,’ he said, ushering her out of the door. ‘No more talk of Fairchild. It’s nearly eight. You know how I do so hate to be late. Luckily, I’ve already got the car out.’
CHAPTER THREE
THE night was cold outside. Sydney in August was still nippy, and often windy. Spring was nearly a month away.
Judith shivered as they hurried down the front path and over to the waiting grey Mercedes. It was all very well for Raymond to dismiss Alexander from his mind. Judith’s mind had never been that kind. She’d tried to dismiss him over the last seven years, but had never really succeeded.
Now he’d been forcibly thrust to the forefront of her thoughts again but he wasn’t even the same man she remembered. How on earth had he gone from being a small-time farmer to a high-powered real-estate man in only seven years? It seemed impossible. Unless he’d inherited money.
Or married it...
The thought of Alexander marrying had never occurred to her before, which was crazy. Why shouldn’t he be married? The man was now thirty-two years old.
She ached to ask Raymond if he was aware of Alexander’s marital status, but knew it would be too revealing a question. Her own inner churnings over the matter were revealing enough as it was. Why should she care if he was married or not? She hated the man, didn’t she?
Raymond drove as he always did. In silence. He needed to concentrate, he’d told her the first night he’d taken her out to the ballet—about a year ago. And she always obliged by not indulging in any distracting chatter.
Normally, she found this quite relaxing, but tonight it gave her too much time to think. What would have happened, she agonised, if Alexander’s sister hadn’t told her the truth? Would she have run after Alexander when he hadn’t shown up as promised? What excuse would he have made not to have any more to do with her? Guilt?
Perhaps. Probably. And she would have believed him. Her own guilt had been crushing.
Her head whirled and her thoughts tumbled on. What would have happened, too, if Simon hadn’t followed them that night and caught them in the act? Judith didn’t believe Alexander’s intention had been to cause Simon’s death. She believed he had come to the house that first day intending to have things out with his supposed best friend. She’d witnessed his tension during that first hug.
But then he’d spied Judith, stupid, smitten Judith, standing there drooling open-mouthed over him, and his plan had immediately changed from open confrontation to devious revenge. He would seduce Simon’s silly fiancée, maybe even make her pregnant, as Simon had Karen. He would destroy Simon’s happiness, uncaring if he destroyed hers at the same time.
Ruthless, he’d been, in his vengeance. Quite ruthless.
Admittedly, there’d been evidence of some regret afterwards. He’d seemed genuinely distressed by Simon’s death. But it had been too late then, hadn’t it? Too late for Simon. Too late for herself...
Judith’s stomach churned as she thought of all she’d suffered at his hands. God, but she hated him, hated him with the same kind of passion which had once filled her with desire. The only desire she had now was to see him in hell—the same hell he’d consigned her to all those years ago!
‘We’re ten minutes late,’ Raymond pronounced as he turned the Mercedes into Margaret’s street, a very fashionable address in Hunter’s Hill.
‘We’ll still be the first ones here, Raymond,’ she said, knowing from experience that when people said parties started at eight most of the guests turned up at nine, or later.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the lovely old two-storeyed home Raymond had bought and presented to Margaret as a wedding present, the absence of other cars at the kerb or in the driveway confirming Judith’s opinion that they were the first arrivals.
‘Mr Fairchild doesn’t know I’m your fiancée, does he?’ she asked as they made their way up the steep front steps.
‘I certainly never told him,’ Raymond replied. ‘And there are no photographs of you on my desk. You know I don’t go in for that kind of sentimentality,’ he said firmly, and rang the doorbell.
Judith frowned at this last remark as they waited silently for the doorbell to be answered. Were all men as practical and pragmatic as Raymond? Was sentiment a strictly female prerogative?
Surely not, she decided. Simon had been a very warm and sensitive man. It had been the first thing she’d noticed and loved about him.
Judith herself felt things very deeply and was quickly moved to sympathy for the plights of others. That was why she’d decided to be a nurse in the first place. Unfortunately, however, sometimes she felt things too deeply.
After she’d completed her training as a nurse, she’d worked in the Aids ward for a while, but had finally had to request a transfer to a general ward after breaking down once too often. She’d been just too heartbroken at her patients’ suffering and their lack of any real hope.
Over the years she’d learnt to control her emotions better, especially in public, but she was still a softie underneath, crying copious tears at sad movies. Letters from her mother or her sister could start her off, as did pictures of neglected and abused animals in newspapers. She usually hid her tears, however, turning to her toy friends for comfort rather than real people.
Raymond would be embarrassed if she ever blubbered all over him. It was as well, Judith decided now, that she was to keep her own bedroom after they were married. At least there she had Peter to blubber all over. He didn’t mind one bit!
‘For pity’s sake stop worrying about Fairchild,’ Raymond snapped suddenly, breaking into her thoughts. ‘He might not even turn up. You know how people are about parties these days.’
Judith’s heart leapt momentarily at the possibility that she still might escape the awful prospect of coming face to face with Alexander again. But somehow she didn’t think fate was going to be that kind.
‘He’ll show up,’ she muttered.
Raymond shot her a sharp look. ‘You promised you wouldn’t make a scene.’
Judith sighed. ‘I won’t, Raymond. But I’m not going to pretend I’m thrilled about seeing him again.’
‘Just don’t do or say anything that might jeopardise my business dealings with him.’
Judith fell silent, hurt by Raymond’s total insensitivity towards her feelings on this matter. It showed her just where she rated with the man she’d agreed to marry. She would always play second fiddle to his business. She would never come first. Never.
Judith’s unhappy thoughts were scattered by the opening of the front door and the appearance of Margaret’s sleazily handsome husband. Admittedly, Mario did cut a fine figure of a man in the black silk-blend dinner suit he was wearing, but there was something infinitely repulsive about his oily, slicked-back hair and slightly feminine features, not to mention his overly effusive manner.
‘Ray! Judy! Marge will be so pleased you’re finally here.’ His Latin accent was attractive but his penchant for nicknames annoyed Judith to death. ‘It wouldn’t do for the guests of honour to be too late, would it?’
He babbled on as he ushered them both into the hallway. The central heating, rather stuffy after the crisp air outside, enveloped Judith, causing beads of perspiration to break out on her forehead. She drew a tissue from her purse, dabbing nervously at her face.
‘Here, Judy,’ he said, stepping round behind her. ‘Let me take your jacket. You look hot.’
With one swift movement, deft fingers removed the security of her jacket. Judith glanced apprehensively over her shoulder, only to see two lecherous dark eyes raking over her bosom. She flushed under Mario’s lustful stare and turned to Raymond for sanctuary. Swiftly linking her arm through his, she was about to bustle him into the large living room on their left when she was halted by the sight of Margaret floating down the stairs towards them in lavender chiffon.
Dear Lord, what an unattractive woman she was!
Her looks were similar to her brother’s, but where he could be described as tall and lean Margaret was skinny and shapeless. Raymond was able to carry off a long face and large nose with distinction. On his sister, they looked horsy. The down-turn of a sour mouth didn’t improve things, either.
‘How naughty of you to be late, Raymond, love,’ she said brushing her brother’s cheek with a kiss before flicking cold eyes over Judith. ‘My, that’s a daring little dress you’re wearing tonight, Judith.’
‘She has the figure to wear it,’ Raymond retorted, surprising Judith with his defence of her. In the past, Margaret’s snide remarks had seemed to go right over his head. She smiled her gratitude at him but he didn’t smile back, his eyebrows bunching together as he scowled down at her cleavage.
Judith’s heart leapt when the front doorbell rang behind her, but it wasn’t Alexander who was ushered in. It was a couple she didn’t recognise. Frankly, she didn’t recognise any of the people who arrived over the next hour, other than Raymond’s secretary, who came on her own. A widow in her early forties, Joyce was a pleasant but rather plain woman who had worked for Raymond for eons and was devoted to him.
Judith found herself introduced to distant relatives of Raymond’s she’d never met before, then half a dozen business associates and their wives, plus several sophisticated couples who were part of Margaret and Mario’s social set.
They all gave Judith a thorough once-over, and once again Judith got the impression she was found wanting as a bride-to-be. Too young for Raymond, their eyes seemed to say. And far too flashy.
But Judith was beyond caring what any of them thought. She stood by Raymond’s side near the marble fireplace, smiling plastic smiles and sipping champagne while her whole attention was riveted on the doorway which led back to the front hall. She was watching and waiting for Alexander to arrive, dreading it, yet desperate for it at the same time. There was nothing worse than waiting for something awful to happen. Far better to get it over and done with.
But Alexander didn’t arrive. Nine o’clock came and went. The introductions dried up and the party settled into full swing. More champagne flowed. Finger food was served from circling trays. The tone of the background music changed to a dancing beat.
The more sedate guests found chairs and sofas while the young at heart spilled from the main living room into the large family room beyond, where they could dance on the polished wooden floor. Raymond and Judith settled in a corner of the lounge room, along with Margaret and Joyce, while Mario was off dancing and flirting as usual.
Judith wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or not by Alexander’s non-appearance. There was a tight pain in her chest from holding herself in anticipation of seeing him again which was not at all relaxing. When the sound of the doorbell came again—at least fifteen minutes after the last arrival—she suddenly felt faint. This was him. She just knew it.
‘Perhaps that’s our errant Mr Fairchild,’ Raymond whispered in her ear as Margaret rose and went to answer the door. ‘I sincerely hope so.’
Judith felt Joyce’s eyes on her as she waited in stiff silence for Margaret’s return. Why was Raymond’s secretary staring at her like that? she wondered. Did she look as pale as she felt? And as petrified?
Please, God, don’t let me still feel what I once felt for him, she prayed as she waited. I couldn’t bear it.
She stared blankly down into her half-empty glass of champagne, flinching when Raymond abruptly got to his feet.
‘Alexander!’ he boomed in a hearty greeting. ‘You made it. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.’
‘I had a business dinner I couldn’t get out of,’ came the deeply timbred reply. ‘I came as soon as I could get away.’
A shudder ran through Judith at the sound of that voice. So utterly male. So impressively mature. It hadn’t changed one bit.
Her eyes slowly lifted, following the length of his tall frame, which was casually yet elegantly encased in a beige woollen suit and a black crew-necked sweater. Shock rippled through her when her gaze reached his face, for there he had changed.
