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She wanted so much to see him, the next day seeming to drag, yet there was fear. He would undoubtedly look at her in the way he’d done yesterday. If their eyes met she was sure she would betray herself. If James didn’t know now what was going on, he soon would if this continued.

The best solution would be to cry off going there tomorrow altogether but the thought of not seeing him so tore at her that she found herself counting the hours, willing them to pass, at the same time dreading their passing until she wasn’t sure what she wanted, her mind in turmoil.

Being driven through the Sunday streets, the November afternoon dull and overcast with daylight seeming already to be fading to an early evening and everywhere strangely deserted after the jubilations on Friday, she remained quiet, hoping James wouldn’t notice the turmoil inside her which she was sure must be showing on her face.

It had been suggested they come to dinner but James having a need to work that evening in readiness for Monday morning, it had been arranged they come to Sunday lunch instead. The nearer they got to Mabel’s home the more Madeleine’s agitation increased, her mind repeatedly asking what if hers and Anthony’s glances met the way they had on Friday? Yet to avoid his gaze altogether, would it not leave him wondering what he’d done to upset her? Over and over she wished with all her heart that she’d concocted an excuse not to go – a headache, over-tiredness, feign the onset of a cold perhaps? Yet she knew she couldn’t have kept away.

But it wasn’t as she’d expected. He hardly looked at her, his greeting when they arrived almost offhanded, avoiding her eyes as they sat across the table from each other. He hardly spoke the whole time, his mother doing all the talking, a totally different woman to the desperate one of six months back. And as they retired to the sitting room to relax after the meal, he seemed preoccupied, hardly joining in the general conversation and to Madeleine’s mind, totally ignoring her.

‘James,’ Mabel said suddenly, breaking through the conversation the two of them were enjoying while Madeleine also sat quiet and withdrawn, ‘before it gets totally dark, there’s something I’d like to show you in the garden that my gardener pointed out. I’d like your opinion. It won’t take long. I didn’t tell you, Anthony dear, but you and Madeleine might like to see it. It’s quite unusual and very pretty.’

He hardly glanced up, his reply curt. ‘No thanks. I need to take it easy, too much on my feet this morning.’

‘Yes of course, dear, as you wish,’ his mother said easily, glancing questioningly towards her young sister-in-law.

Madeleine knew she ought to go with them, but heard herself saying, ‘I think I’d rather stay here in the warm.’

‘Yes, it’s a little cold, dear. Stay and keep Anthony company.’ The door closed behind the two older people, with Madeleine already at a loss what to talk to him about, as he was behaving so morosely. He rose from his armchair – someone a moment ago too weary to move – and came towards her.

Hardly knowing why, she also got up, something inside her sensing that she needed to. Next moment she was in his arms, his lips pressing almost savagely on hers. Desperately she returned the kiss, her hand reaching up behind his head the better to keep his lips pressed on hers. His hand was on her breast, she felt its warmth through her blouse and silk jumper, even through the thin material of her fashionably loose bodice. Her head reeling, her insides churning, all she wanted was for him not to stop, to go further, go further.

Suddenly he released her, stepping back although his hand had now taken hold of hers in a tight grip. She half expected him to say sorry. Instead he whispered huskily, ‘They’ll be back any minute. But I will sort something out, darling.’

Fifteen

They were back in their seats, Madeleine desperately striving to compose herself, when Mabel entered the room, chattering away, closely followed by James. He glanced at Madeleine.

‘Just as well you remained here in the warm, my dear. It’s very cold out there which is why we came back quicker than expected.’ Again a veiled remark or so it seemed. Her guilt screamed at her.

She forced a smile, turning her attention to Mabel. ‘What was it you had to show James?’

‘A most oddly shaped branch now that most of the leaves have fallen. I never noticed it until it was pointed out to me. Seen from a certain angle, it appears exactly like an owl is staring down at one. It could be quite eerie if one were alone out there in the half light. The sky has cleared and what with the twilight glow, it is quite noticeable. But I have to agree with James, it is so very cold out there. We shall no doubt have a frost by morning.’

While she was chatting away, James nodding in agreement to her words, Madeleine stole a furtive glance at Anthony who returned it with a warning one of his own and a hardly perceptible shake of his head. She looked away just as James turned to her.

‘I expect you two have been keeping each other company. Not bored?’

There it was again, an oblique hint letting it be known that he knew more that he was saying.

‘You weren’t gone long enough for us to get bored,’ she managed to reply, wishing her heart would stop its rapid thumping, sure that he could hear it.

Life had become bliss, dangerous but bliss. Two weeks before Christmas, Anthony, or Tony as she now called him when they were alone, had indeed found them somewhere to meet – an inauspicious little hotel a relatively safe distance from his home and a short walk from the small private bank his father had owned, where he’d

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