Part 17 (1/2)

Catherine stepped aside, shaking her head, and Tony, who had emerged from his office to see what was going on, exclaimed: 'Hardly famous, Laura, but it will be!' He grinned, propelling his chair forward. 'This is a pleasant surprise. I didn't know you were spending your honeymoon in London.'

Catherine closed the door, and leaned weakly back against it.

Trust Tony to come straight to the point, she thought bitterly.

But perhaps it was the best way. There was no point in trying to avoid the facts.

'I'm not.' Laura's reply was a shock. She extended her hand for them to see. 'I'm not even engaged, let alone married! The wedding's off, as they say.'

She spoke lightly, with only an underlying note of regret in her voice. Tony exchanged a glance with Catherine, saw how pale she had become, and indicated his office behind him.

'Come along in for a minute. We-Cat and I- we were just going out for supper, but we can talk more comfortably here.' He waited until both girls were seated, and then he added: 'So what are you doing in London?'

Laura shrugged. Then she looked at Catherine, and a faintly compa.s.sionate look crossed her face. 'I could say I came to find you,' she said, with a sigh. 'But that wouldn't be true.' She bit her lip. 'You haven't seen Jared, have you?'

'Seen Jared?' Catherine almost choked on the words. 'How-I mean-how could I have seen Jared?'

'Because he's here-in London,' replied Laura simply. 'He's been here about two months.'

'Two months?' Catherine realised she was repeating everything Laura said parrot-fas.h.i.+on, but she couldn't help herself.

Tony took over the questioning. 'Why would Jared come to London?' he exclaimed.

Laura hunched her shoulders, rubbing her bare finger almost unknowingly. 'Who knows? He says he wants to paint here. But as far as I can see, he's done nothing so far.'

'You've seen him?'

Catherine couldn't prevent the involuntary words, and Laura nodded. 'Today. This afternoon. That's really why I came to England. Elizabeth's been so worried about him. He hasn't written, he hasn't phoned. He hasn't contacted her at all. She only found his address because for some reason he had given it to his solicitors.'

'And-the engagement's off?' Tony prompted.

'Oh, yes. That was off a couple of weeks before he left Barbados.

Just after you left actually, Catherine. I'm sure you know why.'

Catherine couldn't take all this in. She felt sick with reaction, filled with an incredulous antic.i.p.ation that weakened her knees and turned her stomach into a churning cauldron.

'I-are you saying Jared broke his engagement to you because-because of me?' she whispered disbelievingly, and Laura sighed.

'Don't sound so surprised. Jared's engagement to me never meant a lot. I realise now he only did it to silence the gossips after his father died, and he and Elizabeth were alone at the house. After you arrived-well, you know what happened as well as I do.'

'But-but-' Catherine couldn't find words to say what she wanted to say. 'Wh-why didn't he tell me?'

'I thought he did. Laura frowned. 'I understand you turned him down.'

'I-turned--him-down?' Catherine's mouth was dry. 'But he never mentioned--marriage to me!'

'Well, what did you think he meant?' Laura sounded impatient now. 'Surely you know Jared well enough to know he would never countenance anything else? Good lord, surely you realise he only brought Tony out to Barbados to find out if you cared about him.'

'Cared about who? Jared? Or Tony?'

'Why, Tony, of course. I think he thought you and he had been having some big scene. He wanted to see for himself.'

'Oh, no!'

Catherine got up out of her chair to pace disbelievingly across the room. Of course, Laura didn't know about that business of the pregnancy! It was suddenly clear what Jared had wanted to do. He had thought she was expecting Tony's child. He had wanted to see for himself what kind of relations.h.i.+p they had.

Would he have married her in spite of the child if he had been satisfied they no longer cared for one another? Oh, G.o.d, it all made a crazy kind of sense. And she had turned him away because he had shown that she had hurt him. ..

She turned to Laura. 'Where is he?'

Laura's eyes widened. 'Jared?' She hesitated. 'I'm not sure I should tell you.'

'Why not?'

Laura shrugged 'I don't think you'd want to see him. He's changed. So coa.r.s.e and unkempt. If you could turn him down at Amaryllis, you will certainly turn him down now.'

'Where is he?' Catherine persisted, and Tony said quietly: 'You'd better tell her, Laura.'

Laura hesitated a moment longer, and then opening her handbag, she took out a slip of paper. 'This is his address. But I warn you, he may not want to see you. He wouldn't let me in, and I've flown more than three thousand miles!'

Catherine turned the paper over. 'Coniston Street?' she said blankly. 'Where's that?'

Tony was frowning, 'Isn't it in Chelsea?'

'I don't know.' Laura was indifferent. 'I just asked a cab driver, and he took me there. I think he mentioned-King's Road.'

'That's Chelsea,' said Tony definitely. 'I thought I knew it. It's not far from the football ground, Cat.'

'I'll find it.' Catherine was already pulling on the fringed cream suede jacket that matched the calf-length dress she was wearing.

She paused al the door. 'Oh-and thank you, Laura.'

Laura moved her shoulders dismissingly. 'Don't thank me yet.

You may find it's a wasted journey. . .'

But Catherine had gone, the door banging noisily behind her.

It wasn't easy finding an unknown destination by the light of street lamps. A policeman gave her directions, but even then she almost missed the turning, and heard someone blare their car horn noisily at her.

Coniston Street was a row of old Victorian houses which had seen better days, presently converted into flats and bed-sitters.

The number on the slip of paper Laura had given her was forty-seven, and it was about half way down the street on the left-hand side. Catherine managed to squeeze her Mini into the s.p.a.ce between an old Vauxhall and a transit wagon, impatience making the exercise twice as long as it should have taken.

She climbed the steps up to the door and saw the list of tenants with their individual bell pushes. Two names too complicated to p.r.o.nounce, a Philips, a Kenilworth, and a Brown. And that was all. She examined them again, a little desperately this time.

Ahmed Mahdu... She gave up the rest. That definitely wasn't Jared. Viktor Czyviarchos. She shook her head. M. Philips.

Maurice Kenilworth. J. Brown. She backtracked. J. Brown. She fumbled in her bag and brought out the slip of paper again. The number was definitely forty-seven. It had to be worth a try. If only Laura had explained! But who could blame her for being a little obstructive?