Second Best Wife Read online

  'Pack and go,' she muttered to her reflection. 'Maybe if you don't see him, you'll forget him.'

  Yet even as she said it she knew how untrue it was. Living with Adam or not, he would always be entrenched in her heart. And since he was, she might as well remain here. At least she would have the satisfaction of seeing him every day.

  Soberly she undressed and climbed into bed, picturing Adam working at his desk. Poor Adam; too busy regretting his lost love to see the love so close to him. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she began to cry: for herself, for Adam, and for all the might-have-beens.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Two days later, Adam again had to go to Rome, but this time he stressed the fact that Erica would not be there. 'It doesn't matter to me if she is,' said Julia. 'You're very understanding,' he retorted. 'I'm sorry I can't return the compliment.' 'So you should be. After all, I haven't forbidden you to see your ex-fiancé.'

  'Not in so many words. But you showed your disapproval quite clearly when I invited him here.'

  Before Adam could reply, the chauffeur came into the hall to collect his case. Only then did Julia notice he seemed to be taking an unusually large one for such a short trip.

  'I may have to fly on to Johannesburg,' he said, seeing her eyes on his case. 'I'll let you know.'

  He went out to the car and Julia followed him, standing on the steps as he took the seat beside the chauffeur. It was all she could do to stop herself from running after him and begging him to take her along. But instead she remained where she was: coolly smiling, and giving no sign of the emotions raging inside her.

  'Take care of yourself while I'm away,' Adam called through the open window, and wished he dared tell her what an exquisite picture she made in her green dress, with her lustrous auburn hair cascading around her shoulders. How Titian would have loved to paint her!

  The car moved off and Julia waved her arm at him: the loving wife speeding her husband on his way. Well, that only went to show how easily pictures could lie. He settled back and forced himself to think of the hectic few days ahead of him. He hoped he wouldn't have to fly to South Africa. Each moment away from Julia was a moment lost; a moment that had to be made up again. How much longer could he go on hiding his love for her? He had hoped their physical closeness would help her to see him as a warm-blooded man and not simply a business machine, but it appeared to have done the reverse. She was colder than ever towards him, and he was beginning to realise that winning her affection might take him much longer than he had anticipated. The return of her ex-fiancé hadn't been a help either. Even if Julia had been getting over her love for Roy, having him re-enter her life was undoubtedly keeping her feelings for him alive.

  Adam bit back a sigh. What a mess things were! He hadn't been able to touch Julia for weeks. Not because he had ceased wanted her but because his need was so great he had been scared of losing control and forcing her into total submission; of making her respond to him, making her hold him intimately and kiss him with abandon. But even had he succeeded in breaking through her icy reserve, it would have achieved nothing except to increase her disgust with him. For this reason he had stayed away from her. But he knew he couldn't carry on like this. The situation had to be resolved one way or the other. As soon as he returned home he would tell Julia the truth; admit that his love for Erica was dead—that it had only been infatuation and that he was now capable of so much more. And all because of Julia herself, who had shown him that poverty was much more than a lack of money. It was also a lack of trust in another human being; a lack of confidence in oneself. This last had been the hardest lesson of all for him to learn. Never had he believed that he—so successful a lawyer that tycoons all over the world sought his advice—should still lack personal confidence in himself.

  But once he had started examining Julia's statement he had gradually come to acknowledge that she was right. It hadn't been easy, and for months he had denied it, but his growing love for her had done what a psychologist might have taken months to achieve, and as he gradually accepted the truth of what she said, everything else had fallen easily into place. He pulled a face. Never easily. Only if Julia loved him would life be easy; until she did, it was pure unadulterated hell.

  'We're nearly there, sir,' his chauffeur said. 'We made extra good time today.'

  'So I see.' With an effort Adam returned to the present, knowing he must marshall all his acumen for the hectic few days ahead of him.

  Julia waited on the steps until Adam's car disappeared round a bend in the road. Only then did she re-enter the house. How empty it was without him! Even though he had been immersed in work and she had hardly seen him in the past weeks, just knowing he was there had made her feel good. But now the rooms were desolate and silent, and the indifference which she had assumed for Adam's benefit gave way to depression. Disconsolately she wandered through the drawing room into the garden. Now would be as good a time as any to continue the search for a country house, she thought. Yet it seemed a wasted effort. She could not see a continuing future with Adam and had no inclination to find him a home which he would eventually share with another woman— probably Erica. Angrily she wondered why she was still waiting for him to end their marriage, when it was so easy for her to end it herself by packing up and walking out. The luxury of being his wife meant nothing to her, and though she had to admit she enjoyed having money to spend and servants to wait on her, she wouldn't find it a hardship to return to her old way of life. So what was stopping her? Masochism? No, it was more than that. It was the fact that she had made a promise to remain Adam's wife for as long as he needed her, and she could not lightly break her word.

  Sinking on to a garden seat, she lifted her face to the sun and tried to let its warmth relax her. Slowly the tension left her body and, as it did, she became aware that she was hungry. Jumping up, she walked round the house into the kitchen. The housekeeper was making aspic and had reached the laborious stage of beating the egg whites into the stock. Waving her to carry on, Julia helped herself to some home-made wholemeal bread, liberally buttering two slices and covering them thickly with strawberry jam—also home-made.

  'I wish you always eat like this,' Maria grunted. 'You and the signore have lost a lot of weight.'

  'It isn't because we don't like your cooking,' Julia assured her. 'On the contrary, we both love it. But we haven't done it justice lately because—because…'

  'Because love robs you of appetite,' Maria beamed. 'I understand all that. But you are still much too thin, signora.'

  'Well, I'm making up for it with the five hundred calories I've just had. If I go on like this, I'll soon put it all on again.'

  'Eat something more,' Maria pleaded. 'I make you an omelette, yes?'

  'No,' Julia smiled. 'I'm much too full.' Yet as she returned to the garden and sat down beneath the apple tree, she again felt an odd sinking in the pit of her stomach, as if she had not eaten for days. Maybe it was because she wasn't eating regularly. She had better make sure she did. The last thing she wanted was to be ill and become a burden on Adam.

  With few friends to whom, she could turn, Julia invited Susan to dinner and to stay the night. The girl had now started taking Julia's changed circumstances for granted, and no longer made envious comments about it, so that their relationship had, over the past months, become more natural.

  Susan was more than delighted to accept the invitation, and came direct to the house from the office, accepting Julia's offer of the loan of a nightdress.

  'I feel as though I'm coming to a five-star hotel,' she grinned, entering the beautifully furnished bedroom and dancing around the satin-covered bed. 'The only thing that'll spoil it is having to get up at seven-thirty to get ready for the rush hour.'

  'Then next time you'll have to come for the weekend,' Julia grinned. 'Providing you promise not to call my husband "Mr Lester".'

  Susan grinned back, though the humour left her face as she eyed Julia's slender body. 'You're getting terribly thin, you know. Are
you sure you aren't ill?'

  'Of course I'm sure. But I may be a bit anaemic, which is probably why I'm looking run-down. I'll pop in and see the doctor tomorrow.'

  'Why didn't you go away with Adam?'

  'He didn't ask me,' Julia said truthfully. 'He knew he'd be very tied up, and he didn't want any distractions.'

  'And you certainly would be,' Susan agreed. 'I've never seen you more beautiful. It suits you to be emaciated, old dear. It accentuates your cheekbones and gives you interesting hollows.'

  Julia studied her reflection intently that night, and though she knew Susan spoke the truth, she was far from pleased. Who wanted to look more beautiful simply because they felt ill? And she did feel ill: there was no longer any point denying it. Well, maybe 'ill' was too strong a word, but definitely off colour and lacking energy. Though her earlier promise to see a doctor had been made halfheartedly, she decided to do so first thing next day.

  The moment Susan left for the office Julia rang for an appointment with her doctor. He was Adam's medical adviser too, and she had started going to him prior to her wedding, when she had needed various shots before her trip to India.

  'You'd better have some preliminary tests before you come to see me,' he advised. 'Go to the Devonshire Clinic.

  I'll let them know what I want them to do.'

  'Can't I go to a hospital?' Julia asked, unwilling to run up a large bill at a private clinic.

  'No,' came the peremptory answer. 'Adam wouldn't like it. If you go to a hospital, you'll have to wait weeks for your results. You women astonish me. You think nothing of spending a hundred pounds on a dress, but you quibble at paying anything for your health.'

  Appreciating the comment, Julia agreed to do as Dr Forrester said, and spent almost the entire afternoon undergoing tests. Probably unnecessary, she thought, but better safe than sorry.

  That evening she decided to have an early night. She had television in her room and she lay back against the pillows and tried to interest herself in the goings on of a particularly stupid heroine. Her eyes were just beginning to close when the telephone rang. It was Adam calling from Rome.

  'I wasn't sure if I'd find you at home,' he said, his voice so clear on the line that he could have been in the room. 'Is anyone with you?'

  'Jeremy Breen,' she retorted, 'but unfortunately only his television image! I'm in bed—alone.'

  'You didn't need to add the last word.' Adam's voice was clipped. 'I've never doubted your virtue.' 'And what are you doing?' she asked. 'I'm not in bed, neither am I alone. In fact I'm in the middle of a meeting. And with the Italians, it's a bit like being in the monkey house!'

  Julia couldn't help laughing. 'I'm sure you'll be able to quieten them down. Tell me, are you going on to Johannesburg, as you thought you might?'

  'Luckily, no. I've been able to settle the matter from here. So I'll be back tomorrow in time for dinner—I hope. Julia…'

  She waited for him to finish the sentence. 'What is it?' she asked, as the silence continued.

  'I—I—Damn it, I can't discuss it now. I'll wait until I see you. I have something to say—to explain. Sleep well, Julia.'

  'You too.'

  Slowly she replaced the receiver, wondering what it was Adam wanted to say that he couldn't tell her over the telephone. Something intimate and serious, no doubt. And that meant it concerned Erica. The thought was enough to give her a restless night, and she awoke at dawn, and was dressed and breakfasted before eight. Adam's last words kept resounding in her head and she tried to remember his exact tone. There had been a faint tremor in his voice, as if he was unsure of himself, and she wondered if he had finally come to the realisation that they could not continue their life together in this way. But what route did he want to take? Julia determined not to hazard a guess, knowing this could lead to disappointment and heartbreak. She must wait to hear the truth from Adam himself.

  Promptly at eleven, she set off for her appointment with Dr Forester. His consulting rooms were in Mayfair, some twenty minutes' walk from the house, but the day was pleasant and made walking a pleasure—except for the traffic, which was more congested than ever, and sent fumes of oil and petrol into the air.

  Briskly she made her way through the park to Park Lane, and reached Upper Brook Street with a few minutes to spare. Slowing her pace, she strolled down the turning. A young man in jeans eyed her with interest and then gave her an appreciative grin, which suddenly made her feel angry with herself for being so despondent. Whether Adam wanted her or not, her life was by no means over. She was only twenty-four years old, good-looking and not unintelligent. The world could still be her oyster if she had the courage to face up to the challenge of starting afresh. Let Adam do what the hell he liked!

  Dr Forester's words—some few moments later—dramatically changed the pattern of Julia's thoughts, and when she eventually left his consulting room, she hardly dared believe what she had heard.

  She was expecting a baby. Adam's child. The nights she had lain dormant in his arms, determined to remain unresponsive to his caresses, had nonetheless resulted in an act of creation, the seed of which she bore within her. It was, at one and the same time, a wonderful yet terrifying thought. Wonderful because it was the child of Adam, the man she loved with all her heart, and terrifying because of the knowledge that he might, even at this very moment, be making plans to end their marriage.

  'Julia!' With a start, she turned and saw Erica in front of her, her blonde hair bright as a new penny in the sunlight.

  'Hello, Erica,' she said quietly, 'I didn't see you.'

  'Deliberately or unintentionally?'

  'Why should it be deliberate?'

  'Surely I don't need to answer that? You don't like me, and you make very little effort to hide it. Not that I blame you,' Erica added graciously. 'After all, you know you have the man I want, and that I intend getting him back.'

  'You mean I have the man you decided you didn't want,' Julia said evenly, and looked over Erica's shoulder, hoping to see a taxi—anything, as a means of escape.

  Erica gave a tight smile. 'I admit I behaved stupidly, and given another chance I wouldn't do it again. But unfortunately you stepped in before I realised my mistake, and—'

  'I didn't step in,' Julia interrupted, determined to put the matter straight. 'Adam asked me—begged me—to marry him.'

  'And you jumped at the opportunity,' Erica retorted, 'before he even had a chance to realise that my solution was the best.'

  'For you, maybe,' Julia replied, 'but not for Adam. He needs a home and a secure marriage.'

  'You talk as if he's helpless.' Erica's brown eyes were hard as pebbles. 'He's racketed around too much for me to believe he was hankering after hearth and home. His pride was hurt because I refused to take his name until it suited me. It was nothing more than that.'

  'Are you saying it suits you now?' Julia demanded.

  Erica's delicate features hardened, making her look much older. 'Why don't you ask Adam, or are you scared of bringing up my name?'

  'I believe in facing facts,' Julia replied, 'no matter how ugly.'

  An empty taxi cruised past and she ran towards it, hand upraised. Wrenching open the door, she climbed in and gave her address, staring fixedly ahead as they pulled away from the kerb. They were halfway home when the thought of returning to the empty house and spending the afternoon alone with her chaotic thoughts was more than she could bear; and she asked the driver to take her to Oxford Street. It would do her good to be among people; to see others going about their daily lives might help her to accept that her own was but a microcosm on this planet; her unhappiness of supreme unimportance in the general scheme of things. But how difficult it was when her heart was crying out in despair. Was there any truth in Erica's insinuations? But she already knew the answer—had known it even before seeing Erica today. She was only waiting for Adam to confirm it.

  'This part of Oxford Street okay?' the taxi driver asked, and Julia saw they had stopped outside Self
ridge's.

  She nodded and paid him off, then went into the store. It was crowded and hot, and she soon tired of being jostled and went into the street again. Slowly she ambled down South Molton Street, looking in the shop windows and trying to summon up an interest in the beautiful dresses, shoes and bags that were on display. But nothing tempted her. Soon she found herself in Grosvenor Square and saw the American Embassy with its golden eagle outlined against the sky. She had once toyed seriously with the idea of working in the States, and she wished with all her heart that she had done something about it. If she had, she wouldn't be in this present miserable predicament. She stopped walking. She was pregnant. She still couldn't accept the fact. And what on earth was she going to do with a baby?

  She reached a zebra crossing and was halfway over it when she again heard her name called. Reaching the island in the centre of the road, she stopped and turned round. Roy was waving to her from the opposite pavement and she went quickly towards him.

  'You're the second person I'm bumped into today,' she said.

  'Who was the first?'

  'Erica Dukes.'

  'Your husband's ex-lady-friend?' Roy looked amused. 'I bet her nose was put out of joint when he married you.'

  Julia nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and Roy seemed to think the subject was at an end.

  'How about having lunch with me?' he suggested.

  'Are you sure you have time?'

  He nodded. 'Just let me make a call and then I'll be free till early afternoon.'

  A quarter of an hour later they were seated at a table in the Connaught Grill, their order given, and Roy regarding her intently.

  'I was going to call you some time this week,' he said. 'I wanted to let you know I'm being sent to Paris for six months.'

  'Paris?' Julia was surprised. 'Are you pleased about it?'

  'From a career point of view, yes. It means another rung up the ladder.'