Page 35 of A Wild Affair

Lilli laughed. 'I never did—Dad explained to me when I was about six and first noticed that one of the cats he had in the surgery was looking strangely fat.'

'Yes,' said Quincy, remembering, 'he put me in the picture at around that age, too.'

'He's cunning, our father,' Lilli said, and Quincy felt suddenly so homesick she wanted to burst into tears. She couldn't wait to get home and feel the warm, loving security closing around her again.

'I must have my bath,' Lilli said. 'I'm being picked up at eight-thirty, we're rehearsing all day again.'

'You work too hard,' Quincy told her.

'Don't I know it? This morning I feel as if I've been put through a mangle, every bone in my body is aching.'

'Do you still think your career is worth it?' Quincy asked her curiously—Lilli, like Joe, lived in the public eye and, like him, had to give all her time and energy to the pursuit of fame. Why did they do it?

'At the moment, no,' Lilli said frankly. 'Ask me after we've finally recorded the show and I'll probably say something quite different.'

Quincy was silent as her sister walked away, then called after her: 'Want some coffee?'

'Love some,' Lilli groaned. 'I need something to wake me up!'

Quincy made the coffee, listening to the radio, and, as she was getting herself a slice of toast to go with it, heard the telephone start to ring. She hesitated for a moment, half afraid it would be Joe, then when Lilli yelled from the bathroom: 'Get that, will you?' slowly went to answer it.

It wasn't Joe, it was Brendan, sounding tentative and uncertain. 'Quincy? Hallo, I wondered if you were going back today by train or…'

'Yes, I am,' she said.

'So am I—we could travel together.' He made the suggestion shyly.

'What train are you catching?'

'The one at eleven,' said Brendan, still clearly expecting a refusal, and Quincy said in a bright voice: 'Great, that suits me.'

'Oh,' he said, and there was a brief silence. 'Shall I pick you up in my taxi?'

'Thanks,' said Quincy, 'I'd love a lift,' and Brendan rang off, telling her he would be there at ten o'clock. As Quincy put down the phone and turned, she found Lilli behind her, a towel tucked around her and her shoulders gleaming wet.

'Who was that?'

'Brendan—we're going back home together on the train. He's calling for me at ten—I must get my case packed.'

'Nice guy, Brendan,' Lilli said enthusiastically, and Quincy gave her a wry look, understanding perfectly why her sister had assumed that lively tone. She might have denied to Lilli that she had got involved with Joe, but Lilli was too shrewd to believe her. Her warm support of Brendan came too partly to be real—Lilli was waving Brendan at her like some consolation prize, which wasn't very fair to him. Brendan was far too nice to be treated as a runner-up and Quincy had no intention of doing that, she did not want to hurt him any more than she wanted to get hurt herself.

Lilli left an hour later and, hugging her warmly, gave her a string of messages for their parents. 'Tell them I'll be in touch,' she said finally, as she left, making Quincy frown. What would Lilli tell them about this trip?

Her sister caught the apprehension in her gaze and grimaced at her. 'Oh, no need to look worried—I'll be discreet. They won't hear anything from me that they haven't heard from you.' She shrugged. 'Not that I know anything to tell, I'm in the dark as much as they'll be.'

'About what?' Quincy demanded, and got a sardonic smile.

'About whatever you're not telling!' Lilli retorted, and was gone before Quincy could burst into agitated denials.

Brendan arrived punctually at ten and carried her case out to the waiting taxi. Quincy climbed into it and Brendan told the driver which station they wanted— but, as they settled back in the car, another car shot round the corner, almost colliding with the taxi. Quincy gave the driver a cursory glance, recognised him and did an alarmed double-take that matched the one he was giving, his black head screwed to stare at her as he parked the long limousine on a double yellow line, indifferent to the beady eye of an offended traffic warden who came marching back towards them, pad in hand, the light of battle in her face.

'Do you want to talk to him?' Brendan asked her, staring at her hotly flushed face.

'No, I don't,' said Quincy, and he leaned forward to tell the taxi driver to drive on, just as Joe leapt out of his car and sprinted towards them. The taxi throbbed, drawing away, and Joe jumped on to the running board and glared at the driver.

'Hold on!' he shouted, and the man slammed on his brakes.

'What d'you think you're doing? You crazy?' he demanded as he turned towards Joe.

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