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With that calm declaration he turned on his heel, leaving her alone in the office trying to come to terms with her chaotic thoughts. The man was unbelievable—insane even! He was behaving as though he were a feudal baron with rights of droit du seigneur over her. She knew she had every right to feel furiously angry, but for some reason the confrontation with him seemed to have drained her of the energy to feel anything apart from a panicky fear that stuck in her throat, causing her heart to beat nervously as she contemplated the words he had thrown at her before leaving the room.
Her fingers trembled as she dialled the foyer number of the flats. George answered almost immediatedly, assuring her that he had changed her lock. It must be the relief that made her feel so close to tears, she decided when she hung up, because certainly it was not like her to be so emotional.
When Bob returned from lunch she asked him if he could spare the time to accompany her to her garage.
‘I’m terrified of driving the car for the first time,’ she admitted to him ruefully, ‘and I badly need some moral support.’
‘You should have asked our new boss,’ Jilly interrupted with a grin. ‘He’s really smitten, didn’t you think so, Bob?’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Jilly!’ Genista cut in before Bob could speak. ‘I’ve already told you, you’ve got romance on the brain!’
‘All right, tell me about your new car instead,’ Jilly temporised. ‘What make is it?’
‘A Mercedes,’ Genista told her, reluctant to sound as though she were bragging about her new possession. ‘It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time, and at last I’ve decided to take the plunge. It’s a convertible—a sort of sports model, and I want Bob to come with me to pick it up. I’m terrified of driving it for the first time.’
‘A Mercedes?’ Jilly squeaked, in obvious awe. ‘You lucky thing!’ She said it without any malice, adding with a grin, ‘A sports car too—what happens in the winter?’
Neither of them had seen Luke walk into the room, and feeling relieved that her friend had exhibited no envy, Genista replied with a touch of slightly dry humour,
‘Oh, I’ll use the Ferrari then, of course. What do you think, Bob? When we’ve collected the Mercedes, how about buying a Ferrari?’
They were all laughing when Genista turned round and caught sight of Luke’s openly contemptuous expression. Shock and guilt mingled on her own face, and it wasn’t until much later that she realised he must have read in her expression confirmation of his suspicions that Bob was buying the car for her.
Bob’s phone rang and Jilly drifted back to her desk, leaving Genista completely unprotected when Luke walked up and muttered in a voice which only carried as far as her,
‘Perhaps I ought to start checking the books. There’s no way Bob can afford the sort of luxuries that you demand, unless he’s got private means. You certainly believe in pricing yourself high, don’t you?’
‘Meaning you couldn’t afford me?’ Genista parried swiftly, not caring what conclusions he would draw from her words. He already suspected the very worst it was possible for a man to think of a woman about her; any further conclusions he might draw could only be an anti-climax.
‘On the contrary,’ he told her smoothly, with a speed which caught her off guard, ‘I could easily provide you with the Mercedes and the Ferrari. Think about it, Genista. I’m not averse to paying generously for my pleasures.’
‘How predictable you are!’ Genista hissed back angrily. ‘You want something and you immediately think all you have to do is buy it. Haven’t you learned yet that some things simply can’t be bought?’
Her heated speech made him raise an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming sardonically as he looked down at her, saying with slow deliberation, ‘But we already know that you’re not one of them, don’t we, Genista?’
CHAPTER THREE
BOB and Genista left the office early, heading for the garage. The car was all ready for her. Bob and the salesman enthused over it, while Genista eyed the gleaming metallic green paintwork, and wondered how she had ever imagined she was going to be able to drive this elegant monster.
‘It’s a doddle really,’ the salesman assured her. ‘Automatic transmission—a beautifully well-behaved car, perfect for a beautiful lady,’ he told her gallantly.
Bob was endlessly patient while Genista drove nervously towards her flat. He had an hour to spare, he told her, so if she liked they could drive about so that she could accustom herself to the feel of the vehicle.
By the time they returned to the apartment Genista was beginning to feel slightly more confident. The car, despite its weight and size, was easy to handle. The leather seats cushioned her comfortably, and there was plenty of space for her long legs.
‘Can I reward your patience and steady your nerves with a drink?’ she invited Bob when they stopped.
He glanced at his watch, the worry she had noticed earlier in the day in his eyes again.
‘I won’t, if you don’t mind, Gen,’ he apologised. ‘It’s Elaine. She’s in a bit of a state.’ He tugged uncomfortably at his tie, avoiding Genista’s eyes, and then said on a rush, ‘She’s got some bee in her bonnet about getting old, says she’s worried I might fall for some young dolly bird. I’ve told her it’s all nonsense.’ His voice had gone very gruff, and Genista’s heart went out to both him and Elaine. ‘Thing is, Gen, she’s discovered a lump in her…in her breast, and she’s working herself up into a rare old state about it. Our doctor’s told her the chances are it will be benign, but she’s convinced it will mean an operation…’
‘Oh, poor Elaine!’ Genista was genuinely sympathetic. How dreadful it must be for any woman to have to face that sort of operation, especially one as vulnerable as Elaine. No wonder she was worrying that Bob would find her less attractive! It was all nonsense, of course. Bob loved his wife, Genista knew that, but even so, she could quite see why he might not want Elaine to be unduly upset. Cold fingers of fear touched her spine. What if by accident Elaine should get to hear of Luke Ferguson’s suspicions? But of course that was impossible. How could she? And suspicions were all that they were. Everyone else in the office knew that there was nothing between Bob and herself, and if Luke Ferguson bothered to ask around, he could find that out for himself.
When Bob had gone Genista ate a solitary meal, occasionally walking to the large window of her elegant living room to stare out in mingled fear and delight at her new purchase. George had been up with her new keys. He had seen her arrive in the car, and had made extremely approving noises, offering to garage it for her if she liked.
When she had finished her meal and washed up, Genista turned on the television. The programme was a documentary about rural life in England, and to her amazement one of the villages featured was the one in which she had been brought up. As she listened to the presenter talking about the contrast between urban and rural life, her eye was caught by the man standing behind him in the small village square, and her heart started to pound heavily in recognition. It was Richard. An older Richard, of course, but still undeniably Richard with his handsome fair-haired good looks and well built masculine frame. Genista looked in vain for Elizabeth at his side, but then of course the daughter of the local landowner and M.P. was hardly likely to be seen frequenting a very ordinary village pub, which was what the television reporter had been doing before walking outside to talk about the experience, and Middle Hesford’s pub was a real village pub, as Genista remembered, with no pretensions to fash
ionability. The local farm workers gathered there. Genista had only been once—with Richard. Their first date. She could remember it as clearly as though it had been yesterday.
