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her bedroom, closing the door behind her, she didn’t hear him leave; he must have let himself out so quietly with no maid to open the door for him. She had no staff, just a woman who came in daily to cook and generally clean and tidy the apartment before going home. For parties she hired temporary staff.

Why was she thinking this when the more important concern was that he would never set foot here again? Not after the way she’d run from the room, crying like someone who’d been raped, making him wonder what on earth had upset her.

How could she have been so damned foolish, allowing a mere twenty-one-year-old to make love to her and her almost eight years older? Yet it had been so wonderful for those brief moments, so overwhelming, making her forget all about Anthony for a short while, and she had been so starved of love all these months.

Questions had begun to plague her: how could she have treated the poor devil like that? He must have been so embarrassed, bewildered, feeling so awful. She’d have to phone him tomorrow morning, apologize. But it may be better if she didn’t – let sleeping dogs lie. Yes, that was best.

Thinking all these things, she ran herself a bath and lay there soaking in the hot water, trying to push away the voices in her brain: Ronald; Anthony – poor Anthony, leaving him like you did, you needed him. But Ronald…

He’d made her feel wonderful, for a moment or two she had forgotten the pain of no longer having Anthony to hold her. How could she have treated him like that? Yes, she would phone him tomorrow. She had his telephone number. She would say how sorry she was to do what she did. It would make him feel better. He would understand, might even want to see her again. There came a tinkling excitement in her stomach as that thought touched her.

She went to bed, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep, next morning waking to her new resolution. But instead of her telephoning him it was he who telephoned her.

Why she had expected to hear Anthony’s voice as she unhooked the receiver and put it to her ear, she wasn’t sure, but she felt that tingle in her stomach again as the voice, young and light, said: ‘I’m really sorry I offended you last night, Madeleine. I honestly didn’t mean to. It just happened. I hope you’ve forgiven me.’

‘You didn’t do anything for me to forgive,’ she burst out hurriedly. ‘It was me. I should be the one to apologize. I don’t know what came over me. I still don’t.’ She was gabbling. ‘I’ve been so worried that you’d taken offence. You left before I could say sorry for running off like that.’

‘Fine, fine!’ he interrupted. ‘So I’m not in the dog kennel then?’

‘Not at all. I was my—’

‘Then can I see you again? Perhaps this afternoon?’

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice level. ‘I’d like that.’

‘Then we can both apologize face to face,’ he said brightly, sounding so young, so vital.

‘Yes,’ she breathed, not quite knowing how else to answer.

‘Then shall I see you around five o’clock? I have to be somewhere during most of the day. Maybe we could have dinner out together somewhere?’

‘That would be lovely!’ she exclaimed, feeling suddenly like some young girl herself.

‘The only trouble is, at the moment I haven’t got the wherewithal,’ he was saying. ‘My parents provide me with a monthly allowance but it hasn’t arrived yet.’

‘No bother,’ she cried eagerly. ‘I’ll stand us dinner somewhere really special.’

‘Thanks so much, Madeleine,’ came his voice, a little subdued as if he felt a weight of guilt. ‘I’ll repay you the moment my allowance arrives. See you around five o’clock then.’

The phone clicked off, leaving her gazing at it before putting it back on its hook. Five o’clock was far too early to go out to dinner. What would they do in the meantime? But she already knew. They’d sit together and talk as they had done last night, and then… This time she wouldn’t suffer the qualms she’d had last night. She recalled now how expert he’d been for one his age. This time she would forget Anthony. Her being in this situation was his fault.

From now on she would lead her own life. From now on she meant to enjoy it to the full. Sod Anthony!

Twenty-Seven

‘I can’t go in this thing!’ Ronald was saying in a peeved tone.

Standing at the door to her bedroom, he was holding out the evening jacket for her to scrutinize. Since last year’s Christmas party, he’d worn it several times to different evening events. Now she looked over to him as he hovered, his handsome young face flushed from his hot bath – loving the water to be as near to scalding as skin could bear – but looking ever so slightly peeved, and a pang of love swept over her as Madeleine threw him a smile.

‘Why ever not, darling? What’s wrong with the jacket?’

‘Well… look at it!’

Only half dressed herself, still in her slip, she had no qualms about him seeing her like this, not after his living with her these past three years. Tomorrow night was New Year’s Eve. They’d be off to a huge party to dance away the hours through to 1929, returning home to make love and sleep in each other’s arms until mid-morning. Nineteen twenty-nine in two days’ time!

Where had those last three years gone, such fabulous years, she and Ronald now an item. It didn’t matter he was almost eight years younger than she. Everyone accepted it or maybe they kept their views to themselves but he had made her feel twenty-one again; not as she’d felt when she’d been twenty-one and married to staid old James, nearly three times her age, feeling guilty every time she threw a party, and his reminding her that England was at war, men dying,

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