Infatuation Page 3

  She had enough problems already; in banking women sad built-in problems purely because of their sex. The men in banking had a whole string of prejudices against women being allowed to operate on their level; women didn't understand money, they didn't have the nerve to play the stock markets, they got married and left just when you had trained them, they didn't play golf. Often the reasons they gave for disliking to deal with women were very irrational, but those were often the deepest rooted; you could reason them out of their belief that women did not understand international finance, but you could not get at the deeply buried root of their prejudices, and that was where the crazy ideas were hidden.

  'I think you're amazing,' said Baba. 'I don't understand banking at all; if Luke talks about what he's doing I don't understand a word—but he doesn't seem to mind that, he says he doesn't want to talk to me about money.' She giggled, and Judith eyed her with a wry smile.

  'I'm sure he doesn't,' she said.

  'I tried to show an interest, I thought he'd like to talk about his job, most men do, although they usually think women are too silly to understand business. But Luke's different.'

  Judith smiled, thinking: oh, yes? That wasn't the impression she had got of him. Of course, she hadn't wanted to meet him anyway, but she was human; she resented the way he had run an eye over her, decided she didn't tempt him and then coolly proceeded to forget she existed. Not a typical male? Baba had to be fooling herself!

  'I know most men think women are stupid, but Luke's personal assistant is a woman and he says he relies on her, trusts her completely. I was worried about her at first.' Baba wasn't amused any more, her blue eyes were wide and almost cold. 'She's very attractive and I could see she didn't like me, she gave me some very icy looks. I really tried to make friends with her, but she wasn't having it.'

  'I shouldn't worry about her—he's marrying you. If he'd been at all interested in her he would have asked her, not you.' Judith tried to sound reassuring, but it sounded to her as though something had been going on between Luke Doulton and his assistant. It must have been a shock to all his lady friends when he asked Baba to marry him. He had been a bachelor for so long and then had got engaged to someone he had only just met. Judith couldn't help speculating about his emotional processes She was surprised to find he had any emotions, beyond a dislike of people who tried to prise one of his possessions away from him.

  'I suppose I'm worrying because it's the first time I've ever been in love,’ Baba explained. 'Have you ever been in love, Judith?’

  'Not that I've noticed', said Judith, watching her flushed face with sympathy. Damn Luke Doulton if he didn't make her happy. Life is rarely as kind to anyone as it had been to Baba—she wasn't prepared for pain or unkindness, how would she react if she met it now?

  CHAPTER TWO

  DURING the next few days Judith was very busy; she found a flat only a quarter of an hour away from her grandmother's house and she bought a second-hand car which, the salesman assured her, without too much conviction, had been owned by an old lady who had rarely taken it out of the garage but had had it regularly serviced so that it was in perfect running order and had a very low mileage on the clock. Judith disregarded most of his assurances, but the car seemed to her to be a good buy at the price. She had not found it necessary to own a car while she lived in Manhattan; she took taxis if she wanted to get anywhere quickly and otherwise used public transport. At night it was too nerve-racking to use the subways, you never knew what you might run into, but if she went out with someone he usually ran her home afterwards anyway. Now that she was back in London she felt she would need a car; there was no direct bus route from her new fiat to her grandmother's house.

  The flat was in a large modern block; it was rather small but quite big enough for her and, as it had a tiny sitting-room, she would be able to entertain occasionally. She signed the lease and began to decorate it during the day; she had no intention of paying someone else to do what she could do herself. Her few odd bits of furniture, her ornaments and pictures and books, were still on their way across the Atlantic and heaven alone knew when they would finally show up, so she couldn't move in yet, but she wanted to stay with her grandmother as long as possible to help her get over the first shock of losing Granddad. She felt it would make life much easier if Mrs Murry had someone else around; just talking about her husband was something her grandmother seemed to need to do, and Judith was gradually hearing all about their lives together, things she had never heard before and which she found touching and moving and tinged with both sadness and joy. Mrs Murry's moods changed all the time; one minute she was smiling and telling funny stories about the past, the next she would get up and leave the room and Judith would be left guessing that upstairs, in her bedroom, her grandmother was crying. Those moments she never witnessed; Mrs Murry would not let you see her grief, you could only guess at it obliquely.

  Judith persuaded her to come and choose wallpaper and paint; they discussed the colour scheme endlessly and Mrs Murry even came along to the flat once or twice and insisted on helping to scrape the old wallpaper off the walls. She did that with energy, perched on a chair; Judith watched her secretly to make sure she didn't tire herself out, but she knew better than to hint at such a thing. She got the feeling that her grandmother got a kick out of attacking the old wallpaper; Mrs Murry was releasing some of her rage against her husband's death, scowling as she scraped. Damn you, take that! her small face said as damp paper curled down and fell to the floor.

  One day Judith had an interview with the managing director of the London office of her bank. He was brusque and slightly offhand; she sensed that he thought she was in a take-it-or-leave-it situation and had nowhere else to go and was therefore not intending to show any eagerness to have her working there again. Her place there was certainly open, but he made it clear that she would not be offered a salary anywhere near the one she had received in New York.

  'American salaries are on a different scale,' he pointed out. 'I'm afraid we couldn't match what you've been getting.' He underlined how much he knew about her private position by asking: 'How is your grandmother? Beginning to get over her loss, I hope?' Although he smiled, Judith knew that he was pointing out that she needed a job if she was to stay in London to be near her grandmother, and she resented his attitude, without being surprised by it. She told him she would like a few days to consider the offer and left determined to see if she could get a job elsewhere. She was in an unusual position; she knew a great deal about the American stock market from having worked over there for several years, dealing with the New York end of it, and her expertise would give her an edge in London. She would have preferred to stay with the firm for which she had worked for so long, but not if it entailed taking a drop in salary and being treated the way she had been treated that morning. Judith was fascinated by the minutiae of banking and investments, she got a surge of adrenalin every time she took one of those calculated risks which are necessary if you are to make money, it was a form of gambling which could get into the blood if you weren't shrewd enough to add a cool-headed understanding of what you were doing to the flashes of guesswork which could make big money fast before the rest of the market has woken up to what is going on. It was only when you plunged heavily without having a background of solid information to back your hunch that you got into trouble. Judith was cool-headed, though; she studied world markets and world affairs all the time, she could look at a company balance sheet and see immediately whether they were under or over-valued and whether to buy or sell out.

  'I'm good at my job, damn him, I don't like being treated as if I was a schoolgirl asking to be given a typist's job,' she told her own reflection that afternoon. She had just hung a new purchase in the fiat. She had spotted it in a junk shop and bought it on impulse; an oval mirror framed in gilt acanthus leaves. It was early Victorian and solid, very heavy; she herself had carried & back to her flat and her arms had ached when she put a down, but she was delighted with it, partly be
cause it had been a bargain. The man in the junk shop had cheerfully admitted he didn't like it, had too many old mirrors, they were a drug on the market and he was glad to get rid of it. 'I'm practically giving it to you,' he had said as Judith left, hugging it to her chest.

  Tying her straight acorn brown hair back under a red cotton scarf, she made a face at herself in the mirror. 'I'll get a better job, don't worry,' she told her reflection, which didn't seem too convinced, her eyes distinctly looked worried.

  She went off to paint woodwork; neatly dressed in jeans and an old shirt, her sleeves rolled up. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that when the doorbell rang she jumped, her paintbrush spattering white paint on her face. Impatiently rubbing the back of her hand across her cheek, she went to see who was at the door, and was amazed to see Baba.

  'Oh, hallo! What are you doing here?' queried Judith before she realised that Baba had someone with her, a tall man at whom Judith glanced briefly before doing a double-take as she recognised him.

  Baba giggled, 'You've got paint on your nose!'

  Judith managed to smile, but it wasn't easy. Baba looked as ravishing and perfectly turned out as ever, she was wearing an immaculate white linen suit under which she wore nothing visible. The material lovingly hugged every curve of her body, and her thick blonde curls spilled down to her shoulders in a pretence of dishevelment which wouldn't fool anyone.

  'We rang you at your grandmother's and she said you were here and told us the address.' Baba was looking past her at the open door of the sitting-room. 'Are you really redecorating the flat yourself? Aren't you clever? I wouldn't know where to start.' She sauntered past and Judith fell back, her paintbrush held out of danger in case it touched Baba's beautiful clothes. Luke Doulton closed the door. As his narrowed grey eyes assessed Judith's smouldering expression he looked amused.

  The lazily mocking inspection put heated colour into her face. She marched after Baba, a sensation of instinctive fury filling her. This was turning out to be one of those days; what else could go wrong? At the back of her mind, she realised now, she had been debating whether or not to approach Luke Doulton's company for a job, but any idea of doing that had just been sunk without a trace. He would probably laugh like mad at the very idea, after seeing her looking such a sight.

  'I'd offer you some coffee, but . . .' she began, and Baba, who had been looking around the room, turned with a smile, shaking her head.

  'We can't stop, thanks, I just wanted to know whether you'd be at our party tonight or not. Your grandmother didn't seem to know, anything about it and I. . .'

  'Party? Tonight?' repeated Judith, and Baba stopped talking to stare at her.

  'You did get my invitation? I wrote the card myself and it was posted with the others.'

  'I didn't get an invitation,' Judith said flatly.

  'You didn't? Oh, but ... how irritating! It must have gone astray in the post, maybe I didn't have the right address. The party's tonight. Can you make it?' Baba looked at her pleadingly, biting her lower lip. 'Oh, do try to be there—most of the guests are Luke's friends and I want some of mine to come too. Ruth will be much happier if you're there, she's a bit nervous, she's never been to the Savoy before.'

  Aware of Luke Doulton prowling around the room behind her, staring at the wallpaper and the half completed paintwork, Judith couldn't think clearly. 'Well, I'd love to, of course . . .'

  Before she could add the 'but' which was hovering on her lips Baba burst in eagerly, 'Oh, that's terrific! It should be a great evening, shouldn't it, Luke?'

  'It certainly won't be dull,' he said in a deep voice. Judith heard the New England accent with something of a shock, which was absurd, because she knew very well that he was an American, but she had already got used to hearing English voices all around her again and to hear that familiar accent took her by surprise.

  As she looked round at him he moved into a patch of sunlight which showed her his thick hair, a rich dark brown with an almost reddish tinge and threads of silver which gleamed as the sunlight streamed through the windows behind him. Judith felt dwarfed, he lowered over her. He must be well over six foot tall, she thought, and every inch of him seemed to be bone and muscle. He was wearing a well-cut lounge suit, a dark grey with a hint of a paler stripe in it, but beneath the immaculate formality of the clothes his shoulders were wide and powerful, his body leanly fit. He was a very impressive male animal, Baba might almost have been designed to hang on his arm. She was nestling close to him at that second, her hand slipping up his sleeve in a confidently possessive gesture, very female beside that aggressive masculinity.

  'Judith has just got back from New York—I told you, didn't I, darling? She's in banking, she's terribly clever. She knows all about investments and that sort of thing.'

  Judith's teeth met, and she forced a polite smile as Luke Doulton stared at her, his brows lifting. 'I gather you were with Schewitz and Quayle?' She nodded. 'Handling clients?' Judith nodded again.

  'Are you transferring to their London office?' 'Possibly; I'm thinking about it.' She felt distinctly at a disadvantage in her paint-stained jeans, with a gaudy scarf tied round her head and white paint on her nose. Quite apart from the obvious fact that she was no beauty, her appearance would hardly inspire confidence in her ability. She looked a mess, and she felt so furious she could have broken things. Baba shouldn't have sprung Luke Doulton on her. If she had known she was going to run into him she would have spent hours getting ready; he wasn't going to get the chance to call her 'office furniture' again.

  'Feel like a change, do you?' he asked in a slow drawl, and she watched the way his mouth curled up at the sides. His cheekbones were hard, angular beneath his tanned skin; his firm, well-shaped mouth conveyed a cynical amusement. The last time she had seen him, at the 21 Club, he had radiated threat, those eyes dangerous as he talked to poor John. Now he was relaxed, exuding charm, but only a fool would forget that Luke Doulton could be dangerous and Judith hoped she was no fool.

  'Couldn't you find her a job, darling?' Baba coaxed, leaning against him like a small, confiding cat, and he looked down at her with aware, amused sensuality. Judith got the impression he enjoyed looking at Baba, but she still did not get the feeling he was as madly in love with her as his sudden proposal suggested.

  'I won't have any trouble finding a job,' Judith said tightly. 'Thanks all the same.' She moved towards the door pointedly. 'Thanks for the invitation—I'll see you in the party, Baba.'

  They followed her; the sound of their footsteps very loud in the flat, which echoed with every tiny noise in the way that rooms do when they hold no furniture. Luke's head only just cleared the sill of the door, Judith noted, and although he was still smiling she found it nerve-racking to have him around.

  He halted and looked down at her, one brow curving quizzically. 'Why don't we have lunch and talk about your career? I'm free this Friday. How about you?'

  Judith was taken aback, she hadn't expected him to take Baba's coaxing seriously, and she didn't know if she wanted to have lunch alone with him, anyway. He bothered her.

  'Thank you, but…'

  'Monday any better?' he broke in before she had finished the sentence, and Judith hesitated, meeting those cool grey eyes and realising suddenly that Baba hadn't pushed him into this. Luke Doulton wasn't the type of guy who could be pushed into anything, he was serious about interviewing her for his own reasons, which had nothing whatever to do with Baba.

  'Yes, that would be fine,' she said slowly, thinking hard. She wasn't sure she was going to be very happy about his motives for being interested in her, but at least it would not be humiliating to accept the lunch invitation now that she knew he was offering it for his own reasons and not because Baba was twisting his arm. It couldn't do any harm to find out what was behind his interest; having lunch didn't commit her to anything.

  'Eight o'clock tonight at the Savoy, remember.' said Baba, smiling delightedly. From her expression it was clear that she was under the i
llusion that she was totally responsible for the lunch invitation. Judith smiled back, allowing her to go on thinking so.

  'Thanks, Baba.' She might have been livid about Baba's blatant manoeuvring, but she knew Baba meant well; and anyway it was quite impossible to go on being angry with Baba about anything, especially when she glowed with such obvious delight in her own cleverness, 'I'll see you tonight,' said Baba as she and Luke walked away, but just as Judith was closing the front door she hurried back to whisper softly: 'Don't mention the film to Luke, promise?'

  Judith looked at her in surprise. She had forgotten all about the possibility that Baba would be making a film. 'Okay,' she said, wondering why Baba was keeping it a secret from her fiancé.

  'I forgot—you haven't seen the ring,' said Baba far more loudly and obviously intending Luke to hear that part of their conversation. 'What do you think?' She held out her hand and Judith gasped at the size and beauty of the emerald, a square-cut stone surrounded by small diamonds, in a delicate gold setting. 'Fantastic—it's beautiful!'

  Baba whispered: 'I'm keeping the film a secret until it's certain, you see.' She looked into Judith's eyes appealingly. 'Thank you,' she said in that louder voice, 'See you tonight, then!'

  Going back to her painting, Judith managed to stop herself from dwelling on Luke Doulton's invitation; she had the sort of mind which can keep a tight rein over its own activities, which possibly explained why she had been so successful in banking. Her only real drawbacks, as far as her career went, were her sense of humour and her independence, neither of which met with much appreciation from the men she worked with. Judith had learnt to hide her rebellious streak behind a bland exterior. Any mockery she felt was concealed in public; business men were often the very last people able to laugh at themselves and they hated to feel they were being laughed at, particularly by a woman.