Chapter 64

Paula had made coffee at once and the three of them had settled down for a chat, some subtle persuasion being used to get her back. It had failed, but her father, ever hopeful, had glanced at them keenly and gone off with unusual quiet, hoping for results.

The new man had taken an instant dislike to her and the feeling was mutual. She couldn't see him lasting long, which was a problem; already they were one member short. It gave her a pang of guilt but she knew it was now or never. If she went back, then she was never going to be able to strike out on her own, and it had become almost a matter of frantic importance.

Some days she managed to forget Kip for> all of an hour. The nights were the worst times. When evening fell she could see nothing but his face, hear nothing but the haunting melody of the bird at dawn.

One good thing had come from all this misery. Paula and Ray seemed to be keeping steady company, as Ray put it with a happy grin. Paula was back as she had been, a bubbly little thing who looked too fluffy-headed to produce any work at all. It was funny how good came out of everything—except for her.

The man who sat in his car and watched her narrowed his eyes at the picture she made. She was too slender, the wind almost blowing her along, catching her long black hair and sweeping it around her too pale face. It moulded her coat to her, outlining her fragility, and his lips tightened for a minute before he quietly opened the door and stepped out into the cool air.

She stopped so suddenly that she seemed to have been caught by the wind, ready to be swept away into another little whirlwind of colour. Her pallor increased and she caught at her flying, hair, holding it down against her shoulder.

'Why are you here?' Her voice was nothing more than a rush of trembling breath and he came to her quickly, fearing she would faint, his dark eyes intent on her face.

'To see you. Isn't that obvious?'

'Nothing is obvious.' Her green eyes flashed with some of the old spark and she swung away from him. 'You've seen me. Goodbye.'

Inside she was hurting so much that it was a major effort to keep her face still but she had learned a lot since she had first seen him and the one thing to know was when to get out.

'If you're going to make one of your little scenes we'll have it indoors, shall we?' He caught her arm, holding her more tightly when she tried to free herself.

'You're not coming in!' She wanted him to hold her close but she would never again allow herself that luxury.

'Give me your key.' When she refused to make a move he took her handbag without any hesitation, searching it impatiently.

'Somewhere among this hundredweight of equipment there's sure to be a key,' he murmured, finding it and inserting it into the lock with a certain amount of suppressed violence. 'Inside, Natalie, before you just blow away.'

Inside the flat he calmly locked the door and she glared at him angrily. Why did he have to come back now? One day she would be better. One day she would be able to see rain without thinking of the night in his arms. She tossed her coat on to a chair and walked away from him, trying to gain from distance what she could not achieve with her mind.

'My God! You're slim as a reed.'

'Don't you mean thin as a stick? I've had a virus.'

'I know.' He walked further into the room, looking round appreciatively. 'I've been to the studio. Ray pointed me in this direction. Paula gave me a coffee and a sackful of information. Your father greeted me with polite suspicion.'

'I was at the studio.' She had walked back through the park, hoping that the cold air would blow away her misery, but it hadn't helped at all and now he was here, looking at her with those dark, intense eyes.

'You'd just left. I missed you by seconds, but no matter. I've caught up with you now.'

'To no purpose. I can't think what you want.' She turned away, walking to the window and looking out at the fitful gusts of wind. 'No doubt you got all the information you needed from Paula.'

'Some of it. She told me about your illness, that you had left Westwind. She also told me that Bradshaw had left because of you.'

'I decline to take the blame,' Natalie said tightly, shaking with anguish at what Paula had rushed to tell him. '

'Who's blaming you? Your father thought you were pregnant.'

'I wish I had been!' The words just seemed to burst out by themselves, private dreams she had nursed before she had known it was a false hope.