Shelley was at the house by nine o'clock the following morning, and intended to stay all day, so she took some sandwiches from the hotel, and a flask of tea, as there was no electricity switched on at the house because the whole of the wiring had to be renewed.
The girl, Delia, came sauntering up to her when she was in the garden, taking a short break in the sunshine. Nick followed after taking a briefcase from the car.
'Miss Scott-meet Miss Unwin-my fiancée,' he called.
'How do you do,' coolly from Shelley, aware that the girl was looking her over from head to foot in the manner of a mistress to a kitchen skivvy, and her blood boiled. No 'nice' girl, this, but a bitch if ever there was one. And Shelley was just wondering what her appeal for Nick was when the most dramatic transformation took place as Delia turned to see Nick at her side. The big green eyes widened and softened, the mouth curved into a delicious smile and the perfectly-manicured hand that came to rest on Nick's sleeve seemed to have a tender touch.
'Darling, it's in an awful mess, as I remarked when you first brought me to see it. Are you sure this person can put it right for us? I mean-I feel a man would be more capable-' She turned a dazzling smile to Shelley. 'No offence, Miss Scott, but I'm afraid I am one of those women who believe that men can do certain jobs much better than women. No believer in Women's Lib,' she added, 'as you have now guessed.' She lifted doe-like eyes to her fiancé. 'If you are satisfied that Miss Scott can do this work for us, darling, then you know I shan't argue with you, don't you?'
Shelley's blue eyes met those of her former husband and on her lips was a faintly sardonic smile. She knew from experience that even at twenty-four Nick had never brooked argument from anyone. A mask slid over his eyes for a brief space before he looked down at the lovely girl who was standing very close to him, that hand still resting possessively on his arm.
'Yes, Delia,' he murmured in a very soft voice, 'I do know you won't argue with me.' For some reason the moment became tense and Shelley heard herself say briskly, 'We'd better go inside and begin planning; we haven't a lot of daylight left.'
'No; time passes so quickly.' Delia linked her arm through Nick's and they preceded Shelley into the house. Then Delia went ahead, leading the way to the main bedroom.
'Oh, dear, Nick, darling,' she pouted after a swift glance around, 'it seems to me that nothing can be done to this place-just nothing at all. I'm wondering if we ought to change our minds and go in for something more modern?'
'You'll not recognise it when it's finished,' submitted Shelley before Nick could speak. 'And now, perhaps you can give me some idea of what you want in here?'
Delia gave a sigh and walked further into the room.
'It has a lovely view,' she observed on staring out of the window.
'It will be better still when we've deepened the window.' Nick's quiet voice… gently reminding his former wife of what they had planned together. She felt some of the colour leave her face and turned from his half-amused stare.
'I don't think the window needs deepening,' objected Delia. 'After all, we're not going to be admiring the view all the time, are we?'
Again Shelley and Nick exchanged glances, and she suddenly couldn't help saying, 'But wouldn't you like to be able to see some of the view from the bed?'
Nick's lips twitched and Shelley thought: what a strange situation this is!
'From the bed?' with an uncomprehending frown. 'We couldn't see it at night, and I myself am far too sleepy in the morning.' Delia looked up lovingly at her fiancé… as if to remind him that they would be far too occupied when in bed, and the view would be forgotten.
About an hour and a half later Shelley found herself alone with Nick, Delia's having gone off to wander around the grounds.
'What made you buy this house, Nick?' she wanted to know. They were in the drawing room where the three of them had been discussing the renovations needed there. Delia had suggested green as the basic colour but Nick had said they would have crimson. He was definite about not changing the wall covering.
'I expected that question before now,' he said.
'I wondered, of course. I suppose you've had it in your mind all these years and so when it came on the market you were delighted?'
He nodded.
'I was, especially as I was contemplating marriage.'
'You'll marry as soon as the house is ready?'
'Yes, of course. It's all we're waiting for.' He moved away, to the window, to look out on the same view as was to be seen from the main bedroom. 'Did we settle on the colour of the bathroom suites?' he asked, turning his head. 'I can't remember.'
'Miss Unwin has chosen blue for hers and oyster for yours.' They had not planned two bathrooms before, she recalled. Nick had said it wasn't necessary, as she could take her bath while he shaved.
'She has? Well, change both colours. Lilac for hers and avocado for mine-'
'But-' Shelley set her mouth, recalling that it was she herself who, so long ago, had chosen lilac for the bathroom. 'Miss Unwin-'
'Those are the colours I want,' broke in Nick firmly and in that old familiar tone which recommended that she did not argue. She said quietly,
'What shall I tell your-fiancée?'
'There's no need to tell her anything. Just do as I say.'
Shelley looked puzzled, as well she might, and without having time to stop herself she was saying, 'You don't sound wildly in love, Nick?' And then she blushed with embarrassment and wished with all her heart she could withdraw the words. He turned his head slowly, to stare down into her face.
'Of course I'm in love,' he assured her. 'But that doesn't say that my word isn't law. You heard Delia say that she doesn't believe in Women's Lib. She's adorably feminine-but you must have noticed?'
Adorably feminine…. Shelley eyed her ex-husband with a look of deep suspicion. Was he serious-or merely having fun at her expense? Undoubtedly his was not altogether the casual, 'don't-care-less' attitude one would expect of a former husband who had totally lost interest in his ex-wife. Or perhaps he was being spiteful in more ways than one-not only as regards the renovations but also he seemed to enjoy praising his fiancée-not that there was anything wrong in that… if he were in love. But was he in love with the girl? True, he had just declared he was, but it seemed to Shelley that it was in a rather halfhearted way.
Conscious of his sustained stare she made to turn away but he moved at the same time-unintentionally she felt sure-and they collided. His hands went out to steady her and she felt herself quivering at the contact, realised with a little shock of disbelief that the past seven years had dissolved into nothing and his hands were gentle and possessive… but only in her imagination. She and he stared into one another's eyes for a long, electric moment before, bending his dark head, he kissed her hard on the lips. She twisted away, colour flooding into her face, anger in her eyes.
'How could you!' she cried. 'You-engaged to be married-Supposing she had walked in?'
'She didn't,' smoothly and bringing out a handkerchief because he suspected he'd have lip-rouge on his mouth. He was smiling faintly as he used the handkerchief, and his eyes with their half-veiled expression of amusement never left her face. 'No,' he murmured almost to himself, 'you haven't changed much at all.'
***
'I think,' said Stephen on looking through Shelley's report, 'that this is going to cost a great deal more than the sum I at first suggested to Mr. Montpelier.'
'You gave him a figure?'
Stephen nodded, his eyes fixed on the papers lying on his desk. Shelley was sitting opposite to him, her shapely legs crossed, one slender hand resting on the tooled leather, fingers tapping almost nervously. She had tried, during the past twenty-four hours, to convince herself that she was not affected by Nick, that she had managed to get over him a long time ago. But had she? The question was superfluous for she had at last to own that the reappearance of her husband had awakened all that she had first experienced. She was still in love with him-or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say she had fallen in love with him all over again, and with the swiftness of that first time, when she was a mere seventeen years of age. She and he were older now and she did wonder if, were that incident to have occurred now, they would act in the same stubborn way. She knew for sure that she wouldn't; she'd have gone back-no, she'd never have run off at all, but stayed and explained, forcing her husband to listen to her.
But what of Nick? Would he be reasonable and appreciate that the fault in no way lay with her? He seemed so mature and she had no great difficulty in accepting that he, too, would have acted very differently.
And they would still have been together…. Living in that lovely old manor house, perhaps with children playing on the lawn. But instead they had parted, driven by pride and obduracy and influenced ultimately by their youth so that they had gone the whole way… divorce.
'I've been speaking to you, Shelley!' Her employer's voice cut sharply into her reverie and she gave a start.
'I'm sorry; I was miles away.'
'Obviously,' he almost snapped. 'This darned job seems to be affecting you in the oddest way. I've just told you that I gave Mr. Montpelier a rough estimate, and it looks by your report as if the final figure will be twice as much.' He paused a moment. 'Can't you cut the cost down in any way?'
'I suppose I could, but wouldn't it be best to consult our client first? I rather think he'll not count the cost as long as he gets what he wants.'
'It's rarely we have a renovation costing this much.'
'There's a great deal to be done to that house-' Shelley broke off, frowning. 'Get Miss Wandford to take over, if you're not satisfied-'
'For heaven's sake, Shelley, stop all this! You're the one engaged on the job and it stays that way.' Something in his tone made Shelley say, 'Mr. Montpelier's been talking to you again?'
'To insist that you remain on the job.' He looked hard at her. 'There's something I don't understand about the whole thing. You never wanted the job in the first place, and now you still don't want it, yet it's right up your street. And our client-I feel sure you've hinted that you'd like to be taken off the job?' A question which she chose not to answer and Stephen went on, 'Why should he phone in early this morning and make sure that you were to remain on the job?'
Perhaps, mused Shelley, because Nick feared, after that kiss, that she would definitely make a demand to be released from the job of doing up Allswick Manor.
She said at length, 'I've no idea why he should phone early this morning.'
Stephen frowned heavily but let the matter drop, referring again to the question of cost.
'I think I'll come along with you-' He stopped to ponder. 'I'm engaged with a new client until about noon tomorrow but after that I'm free. We'll go off to Allswick immediately after lunch-say one o'clock?'
'Yes, all right. You feel you can suggest ways of cutting the cost?' He had never done anything like this before but then as he said, they had never had a renovation costing so much before.
'I hope you're not offended?'
She shrugged.
'Not at all. However, don't reckon without our client. He's a strong-willed man and what he wants he'll have.'
Stephen's glance was swift yet probing.
'You almost could know the man, the way you talk.'
'I've had several meetings with him, and find him a very forceful person. I do think you ought to see first whether or not he objects to the cost.'
'I've not finalised it yet,' he said unnecessarily. 'But as I've hinted, it'll be enormous.'
'I still don't think he'll mind.'
'Nevertheless, I'll come and see for myself.' Stephen's voice was firm and Shelley made no further attempt to convince him that his client would not be troubled about the cost.
***
Stephen was a fast driver and they arrived at the manor at a quarter to four despite the traffic delays on the way. Nick's car was at the front and another, smaller one. Shelley heard voices and realised that Nick was talking to at least one other man, at the back of the house.
'I expect he's wanting an estimate for the outside repairs,' explained Shelley in response to the enquiring look Stephen gave her.
'He could have had the place pulled down and rebuilt for little more than it's going to cost him when everything's put in order. Just look at this garden! It wants clearing completely and landscaping from scratch.'
'No, it doesn't. It wants careful handling as there are some rare bushes and trees among all that undergrowth.'
Stephen turned his head swiftly. 'You seem to know. Have you been exploring the grounds, then?'
She merely nodded and said she had taken a few breaks, getting out of the mustiness of the house into the fresh air. What she did not tell him was that Mr. Hawks had enthused over the garden, though even in his day it was rather neglected. He told them of the rare plants, some having been brought from various parts of the world by a previous owner who was a garden addict.
'Well, let us go inside….' Stephen's voice trailed as Nick and two other men came round the corner to the front forecourt of the house. 'Oh, hello, Mr. Montpelier. I thought I had better come and take a look for myself.'
Nick's expression was unreadable as his eyes met Shelley's. He said slowly, 'Miss Scott has everything in hand, and I find all her suggestions to be satisfactory.'
'The cost is rather high and so I felt we might economise,' began Stephen in his customary businesslike way. 'You see-'
'I don't believe I've had your estimate?' Nick's voice was bland and his eyes interrogating. There was an air of superiority about him that Shelley found most disconcerting and she wondered if her employer was similarly affected. If so he didn't show it at this time.
'No, because it happens to be very high, Mr. Montpelier.'
'You assume it will be beyond my means?' Nick's voice was crisp now and edged with arrogance. Stephen did then begin to look uncomfortable.
'Not anything like that,' he was swift to deny. 'It's just that we seldom have a renovation costing this kind of money.'
'Until you submit your estimate I can't accept or reject it, can I?'
'Well-no-'
'In that case, I suggest you let me have it as soon as possible.' With that Nick turned to one of the men and suggested they go to the other side of the house where, he believed, the roof needed some repair.
'Stuck up so-and-so!' snapped Stephen when the three men were out of earshot. 'Is he always like that?'
'I warned you he had a forceful character.'
'Well, he'll get the estimate-and I hope he likes it!'
'You might as well take a look around now you're here,' suggested Shelley when it seemed he was ready to go again. 'I can explain just what will be happening to the place.'
Stephen was rather casual at first but became more and more interested as time went on and more rooms were entered and left. The galleried landing was beautiful but needed a great deal of money spending on it.
They were just coming downstairs when Nick entered the hall, having finished with the men outside.
He stood there, watching Shelley and her boss coming down, a strange expression on his dark countenance. How Greek he looked at this moment! thought Shelley, so forbidding with those strong classical lines, the outthrust jaw, the firm, determined mouth. His shoulders beneath a Saville Row jacket were broad and square; his long lean frame was reminiscent of an athlete at the very apex of his career. A sort of splendour in his movements as he stepped to one side as Shelley and Stephen neared the bottom of the stairs, and she caught her breath, vividly recalling how he had thrilled her in every way, so long ago.
And he thrilled her now….
Suddenly she felt tense, and from the chaos of her mind bred by the apparent hopeless of her situation, she was conscious of rebellion against fate! Why not fight to win him back? There was still time and it wasn't as if Delia was a nice girl. In any case, decided Shelley with the hint of hardness entering her eyes, all was fair in love and war.
'And I did have him first,' she reminded herself, flushing a little as she saw his expression of amused satire. He was plainly trying to guess at her thoughts.
She smiled at him, noting his tiny start of surprise at this unexpected hint of friendliness.
'We've been taking a look,' began Stephen. 'This place is certainly going to be something special once it's renovated.'
'Renovated to my satisfaction,' said Nick. 'I don't want any alterations to what Miss Scott and I have arranged.'
'No-well, there won't be,' agreed Stephen and then, glancing at his watch, 'Would you care to join us for a drink before we drive back to London?'
Shelley waited expectantly; Nick looked at her and she smiled again, encouragingly. He shook his head and declined Stephen's invitation.
'I'll be here again tomorrow,' he said to Shelley, 'with Miss Unwin. We have a firm of landscape gardeners coming in to do a survey.'
For some reason Stephen said, 'Are you having it all bulldozed, and then beginning again?'
'Certainly not. There are many valuable and rare specimens in this garden.' And with that he bade them good afternoon and strode majestically to his car.
'I told you,' began Shelley when he interrupted her.
'He practically repeated your words. Did you take your strolls around the grounds with him?'
She opened her mouth to say no, then preferred the truth, since after all, that first stroll so long ago was with Nick, when they were both accompanied by Mr. Hawks.
'Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I did.'
'He must have been in a far more mellow mood than he is now,' observed Stephen, eyes sliding to the big car now rolling along the drive-not very smoothly as it was almost impossible to avoid the potholes.
'At the time,' she recollected in a soft, nostalgic tone, 'he was in a mellow mood.'
'Then let us hope he's in a mellow mood when he reads his estimate!' was Stephen's fervent response to that.
***
Delia stood frowning darkly as Shelley showed her pattern books of wallpapers.
'I'm not really interested, at this moment, Miss Scott. What I am interested in is the other book-the one showing me the bathroom suites.' It was a week since that afternoon when Stephen had said he hoped Nick would be in a mellow mood when he received the estimate. He was, accepting it at once, and so Shelley had really begun to get things moving and already every room in the old manor house was looking even worse than before, as workmen were in-more than a dozen of them. 'I said quite definitely I wanted blue for mine.'
'Mr. Montpelier was firm about having lilac.'
Delia drew a breath and her mouth went tight.
'Order the blue one!' she snapped and Shelley thought how very different she was now from the Delia seen by her fiancé. 'Mr. Montpelier can have what he likes in his own bathroom, but I'm having blue, with the gold-plated fittings as we agreed.'
Shelley gave a small sigh but did not argue. She would see Nick tomorrow; he had phoned the office and told Stephen he wanted to see Shelley. She was at present staying each night at the hotel and she wondered if, by some miracle, Nick would also be staying overnight. She did not think so as there seemed to be no reason for his doing so. Delia, it seemed, had been staying with friends in Glouscester but she was returning to Cheshire later today, she had told Shelley.
'I think you ought to concentrate and choose the wallpaper,' advised Shelley with far more patience than she felt. 'If you're going back to Cheshire then you won't have another chance.'
'I can leave it to you. Besides, the room won't be ready for wallpaper for ages yet.'
'It will be ready in about a week.'
'Then I hope the work isn't going to be shabbily done! A week? It's not possible.'
'Anything's possible when you have enough men on the job.'
Shelley already had a firm of bathroom designers ready to move in; she also had the bedroom furniture and carpet ordered and these could not be brought in until the walls and woodwork were done. Already expert polishers were employed on the woodwork.
'Well….' Delia didn't seem too interested in the wallpaper and Shelley guessed it was because she hadn't been allowed to have the colour she wanted. Nick had seen to that. He had what he wanted.
At last Delia made her choice and Shelley instantly objected, saying it was unsuitable but Delia arrogantly insisted so Shelley wrote down the number.
She saw Delia off the premises and soon after she had driven away Nick's car came bowling along the drive, much to Shelley's surprise. The couple had only just missed one another, she thought, for Delia had been gone less than ten minutes. A very strange setup, she mused, and her doubts about Nick being in love with Delia were strengthened.
It was with a little thumping sensation in the region of her heart that Shelley stood on the steps waiting for Nick to alight from his car; this he did with all the smooth grace and litheness that she remembered.
'Your fiancée's just left-you've missed her,' Shelley told him, hoping her slight stammer had passed unnoticed. Nick seemed untroubled by her information-perhaps indifferent would be a better word with which to describe his manner.
'Have you been here all day?' Nick came up the steps to join her at the open front door. He was close… closer than was necessary.
'Yes; everything's in full swing now.'
'Let us take a look at the progress.' He flicked a lean brown hand for her to precede him into the hall. 'Ah, so they've managed to get all that varnish off the balustrades,' he noticed with satisfaction. 'This is going to look most attractive when it's polished.'
She just stood watching him as he examined some of the exposed oak and because she made no comment he turned to see if she was still there.
'About the bathroom,' she began. 'Miss Unwin wants blue for hers. I've already ordered lilac but can phone first thing in the morning to change it.'
Nick's eyes were glinting.
'There's no need to change it.'
'What will she say to me, though?'
'Nothing, as I shall already have told her it's to be lilac.'
'The way you and I once wanted it,' she murmured, just to see what effect that would have on him. He smiled sardonically and said, 'That's right; you've a good memory.'
Her blue eyes challenged as they stared directly into his.
'You mean me to have a good memory, don't you?'
'Now what am I to infer from that?' Nick wanted to know.
'Everything you are having done here is what you and I planned…. So you too have a good memory.'
He laughed without humour.
'The memory's fading,' he assured her casually. 'Especially now that I've decided to marry.'
'The memory of….' us?' Soft her tone and gentle. She wanted him so much and although there was time for her to win him back there certainly wasn't much time. As soon as this house was ready they were to be married. Shelley could delay, of course, but not for any appreciable length of time. In any case, it wouldn't be fair to Stephen, since lost time meant lost money; for she could be employed on another job. Besides, Stephen had given a completion date.
'What are you trying to tell me, Shelley?' In contrast to her voice his was hard.
'Nothing-' She shrugged her shoulders, wishing she had more experience, wishing she knew how to flirt with him. But she had no experience at all, for she had never bothered with men since her parting from Nick… and she now knew why. Knew also why, when she fell to thinking she had not yet met the right one, inevitably Nick's face would appear before her mental vision. 'It was just that things came to mind, which is natural, I suppose. It was a strange quirk of fate, us being thrown together like this, at this particular house.' She looked at him across the small distance and her eyes were wide, appealing. 'For you, Nick-don't things come to mind?'
'Such as?' His voice was still hard, and cold.
'Oh, er-things,' she answered lamely.
A faint smile touched the firm outline of his lips as he came towards her. She felt her heartbeats increase, and her nerves fluttered.
'You have regrets?' he asked and she saw that his eyes matched his tone in hardness.
'I suppose one always has certain regrets, Nick.' She was fighting and yet feeling defeated for after all another girl was wearing his ring.
'I agree with you, Shelley, but on the other hand, regrets don't get you anywhere, do they?'
'No, they don't.'
'Because what is done is done.'
Sometimes it could be undone, she thought, but this was kept to herself because this was not the right moment to voice a thing like that. She had no wish that Nick should be provided with the chance to humiliate her.
'Yes,' she replied flatly, 'what is done is done.'
'I guess you have enjoyed your freedom?'
She looked up swiftly. What was he trying to do to her?
'I've done well in my job, if that is what you mean, Nick,' she returned after a slight pause. He didn't say anything and she heard herself asking, 'What have you been doing with yourself all these years, Nick?'
'I've been in Greece for quite a lot of the time. My aunt died and I had the estate to see to.'
'You like it over there?'
'Very much. Delia and I shall spend part of the year there-probably the spring. Greece is very beautiful in the spring.'
'But spring will be lovely here, in this house. The garden will be full of interest and colour.' A picture of Christmas spread before her eyes… logs in the big grate and candles in their holders; a dazzling tree and tinselled decorations, fairy lights and gaily-wrapped parcels. And children laughing….
'Yes, I daresay it will.' Nick glanced around. 'This place certainly has atmosphere.'
'We knew that right away, remember?' Her voice was eager, willing him to soften.
'Did we?' Nick lifted a hand to smother a yawn. 'Does one appreciate atmospheres when one is so young?'
She smiled faintly.
'You were then as old as I am now,' she reminded him.
'So I was-but then a man is so very much younger at twenty-four than a woman is. I'm sure you agree?'
She looked away, feeling defeated again for she did not know how to soften him. He was within weeks of being married so how could she succeed in her efforts to win him back?
It was growing dark and she said flatly, 'I suppose I'd better lock up-' She listened intently. 'I think some of the men are still working upstairs. How can they see?'
'As soon as you get the wiring done we can have the lights on. Try to hurry that particular firm up, will you?'
'I'm doing my best. It's a big task to rewire a place like this.' She stopped as two men in overalls came down the stairs.
'Good night,' they said in unison as they passed her. 'Good night, sir.'
'Good afternoon,' corrected Nick easily. And, when they had gone, 'I think there is enough light for me to take a look around. Are you coming with me?'
She hesitated then said yes, she would come with him. He led the way and together they went from room to room. But the light was failing rapidly now and soon they were outside, and Shelley was locking the front door after having carefully checked all the windows and the other doors.
'Are you driving back to London?' enquired Nick as they walked down the steps to the forecourt.
'No, I'm staying at the Angel. Driving to London and back all the time is such a waste. I need to be here, making sure everything's done properly.'
'I'm staying at the Angel too,' said Nick without much expression, 'and so we shall dine together again.'
