Part 18 (1/2)

Yet remembering the last time they had spoken together, she felt her spirits plummet. What was the point of contacting Jake?

He had made his feelings blatantly clear. All he had wanted from her was her body, an instrument on which to expunge all his pain and frustration. He didn't love her. She doubted he had ever loved anyone, other than his small daughter, and Elizabeth's defection had destroyed all human feeling inside him. He was not a man, he was a sh.e.l.l, a battle-scarred sh.e.l.l, without spirit or substance.

Nevertheless, argued her conscience, he deserved to be told where his daughter was. It was unfair and inhuman of her to keep such information from him, and no doubt he would arrange to take the child home with him. If he let Anya spend the night here, she could arrange with him to send the child over in a taxi in the morning, and she need not suffer the condemning censure of his impatience at the little girl's disobedience.

With this upholding thought in mind, she dialled the digits Marcia had given her and waited apprehensively for him to answer. The purring buzz went on for several minutes before she realised she was wasting her time, that he was out, and with a feeling of intense and unreasonable disappointment she put down the receiver.

His absence from the flat promoted the uneasy speculation as to where he might be. Had he managed to find another governess? Was he even at this moment entertaining some young woman to dinner, and a.s.sessing her ability at the same time? But no! Marcia had said he avoided hotels, and he was hardly likely to invite some strange woman, young or old, to eat dinner with him. Then where was he?

And why did she feel this ridiculous sense of betrayal, when she had no earthly reason to expect his fidelity?

When the doorbell rang about half an hour later, she was already sunk in gloom, and even the possibility that as she was expecting no visitors it could be an intruder aroused no sense of alarm inside her.

It was probably someone looking for one of the other flats, she thought wearily, dragging herself into the hall, and then sucked in her breath in astonishment and disbelief when she found Jake on the doorstep. He had filled her thoughts so completely a few minutes ago that she could not at first take in the realisation that he was actually here, and she gazed at him open- mouthed, clinging to the door like a raft for survival.

'I understand Anya's here,' he said, when she made no move to speak to him or invite him in, and she nodded almost blankly. 'I'd like to see her if I may. I'm sorry she's troubled you, and naturally I'll pay for any inconvenience she's caused. If-if you'll just show me where she is, I'll take her off your hands.'

'Oh, Jake!'

It was too much. After the emotional trauma she had been through, Joanna's composure just crumbled, and with a mute nod of her head she turned away and stumbled back into the living room.

She heard the outer door close and presently Jake's cus.h.i.+oned tread as he traversed the hall carpet and entered the living room behind her. She guessed he was looking about him, absorbing his surroundings, but she remained where she was, by the window, dislodging the curtain as if intent on some object outside the lamplit-room.

'Where is she?'

Jake's question was not unexpected, and stifling a sniff with the back of her hand, she answered him in a low husky voice.

'She- she's asleep,' she said, antic.i.p.ating his disapproval. 'She was exhausted. I-I fed her and put her to bed.'

'I see.'

There was silence, and realising she was obliged to be civil to him, she turned, schooling the muscles of her face not to reveal how much his presence disturbed her. It was only then that she noticed how haggard he looked, the dark planes of his face hollowed and weary. He did not look like a man who had just rid himself of a particularly annoying employee, and- she guessed Anya's running away had affected him more than he thought. He had evidently shaved in a hurry before coming here, and there were little b.l.o.o.d.y scars on his chin, but his linen was immaculate, and the dark lounge suit had obviously been made by a master hand. He looked the same, and yet different, more sophisticated, and yet more vulnerable, and in spite of her resentment of his heartless approach, her own emotions were less controllable.

'How-how are you?' she asked, clutching at the ba.n.a.l utterance, in an effort to normalise the situation, but he merely ran probing fingers round the inside of his collar and glanced about with evident impatience.

'I'm all right,' he said shortly, and gaining a little confidence from his unease, she gestured towards the tray of drinks her mother had left on a nearby cabinet.

'Can I offer you a drink, then? Scotch, gin-coffee?'

'I don't want anything.' He moved his shoulders irritably.

'Thank you.'

Joanna's tongue circled her lips. 'Are you sure?'

'Oh, G.o.d, Joanna! This isn't a social call! I came because Marcia rang and told me Anya was here. Now you tell me she's in bed- asleep!' His sigh was heavy. 'I suppose I'd better go and come back in the morning.'

Joanna's stomach tightened convulsively. 'I-er-don't you think we ought to talk?'

'Talk?' He was wary.

'Yes, talk.' Joanna moved to the couch and determinedly seated herself on its edge. 'Won't you sit down?'

Jake remained where he was, and wis.h.i.+ng she was wearing something a little more feminine than a denim s.h.i.+rt and matching jeans, Joanna endeavoured to hide her trepidation.

'Did you-that is-have you found another governess for Anya?'

He was silent for so long that her courage almost completely deserted her. Then, almost grudgingly, he said: 'No.' He paused.

'Why?'

Joanna took an uneven breath. 'But you-that is why you're in London, isn't it?'

'Who told you that?'

'Marcia-that is, your sister, told me you -'

'I thought you didn't know Marcia.'

'I didn't.' Joanna sighed. 'I met her the first night I got back. I had dinner with Aunt Lydia, and she was there.'

'And when did she tell you I was in London?' His eyes darkened.

'Was it your idea or hers that Anya should come here?'

Joanna gasped. 'It was no one's idea! And-and she didn't tell me you were in London. At least, not until I rang her this evening and explained what had happened.'

'Really?' He was sceptical.

'It's true.' Joanna got to her feet then, unable to sit beneath his contemptuous gaze. 'You don't imagine your sister and I have got to know one another that well in so short a s.p.a.ce of time?'

'How do I know how long you've known her?'

'Because I don't tell lies!' declared Joanna indignantly.

'So Anya suddenly took it into her head to come looking for you?'

'Yes.' Joanna clenched her fists. 'You don't suppose we contrived this? That Anya should make that dangerous journey alone! In G.o.d's name, what kind of a father are you?'

His face twisted. 'An indifferent one, obviously,' he muttered, long fingers ma.s.saging the nape of his neck. 'I didn't even know Anya knew where I had gone.'

'She didn't.' Joanna hesitated, and then went on half reluctantly: 'She came to ask me to go back with her. That's all.

She'll be as shocked as I was when she learns you're here.'

'Will she?'

'Of course.' Joanna glanced helplessly about her. 'Jake, why don't you sit down and let us discuss this like civilised people--'

'Because I don't feel very civilised,' he snapped, tawny eyes glittering in his ravaged features. 'Joanna, I'm grateful to you for what you've done for Anya, but there's no chance of my taking you back to Ravengarth, no chance at all!'