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and you're a masochist.'
' I know, but . . .'
' I know, I know. You don't need to tell me. You
love him that's the beginning and the end. Poor
Claire! Maybe it you could prove to Peter that
Deirdre is only after his money . . .'
' It isn't only that. The other day I was in town
and I saw Deirdre. She wasn't alone. She was with
that neighbour I told you about Tim. I'll never
forget that look of triumph in his eyes when we fetched
Deirdre.'
' You think it's a plot to get money out of Peter?'
' Yes, I do. Deirdre was always rude about Simon
until Peter told her Simon's father was a millionaire.
The other night Simon took us out, he brought along
a friend. Quite nice, but. . . well . . .'
' Not as nice as Simon?'
' No. Simon is so easy to talk to. I always feel
relaxed with him. Anyhow, Deirdre just went all out
for Simon. He looked quite scared and really sur-
prised, because never before had she shown the slightest
interest in him.'
Molly laughed. ' What a girl 1 Maybe she'll chase
Simon now and leave Peter alone.'
' I don't want Peter hurt,' sighed Claire.
' Oh, Claire darling!' Molly came closer and put
her arm round Claire, kissing her lightly. ' You have
got it badly. I don't see how you can win. You'll
109
always be on Peter's side instead of on your own.' ." ;1|
" I know I'm mad,' Claire smiled. ' Thanks for let-1|
ting me weep on your shoulder. I'd better get going; ||
Mrs Keater wants to go off early, so I'm cooking the H
dinner tonight.' |
' What about a little arsenic?' Molly joked. |
Claire looked round. ' Sometimes I feel like that.' |
She turned as they reached the front door and put |
on her red mackintosh and tied the waterproof green I
scarf round her head. ' You know, Molly, sometimes I I
feel guilty about it all. Deirdre is only seventeen, she's |
had a tough life and some people are born money- '
mad. Maybe she does love Peter, maybe it isn't just |
money she's after; maybe Peter really loves her, because
as I keep saying, she's really strikingly beautiful. May- i
be I am being ultra-sensitive Simon says so. He tells
me I shouldn't mind being called a Pommie and :
teased because I can't swim well, or sail or do any
of the things Deirdre does so well. He says I'm much
more beautiful than Deirdre, that a man can talk in-
telligently to me but that Deirdre keep saying:
' Really?" " Is that so?" " Yes " and "No". He
says trying to talk to her is deadly, most exhausting.'
'Is Simon in love with you?'
Claire looked startled. ' I don't think so. I hope
he isn't. He's much too nice to be hurt.'
Molly smiled. ' I think the same about you. I
believe I heard Wendy cry. Give me a ring, Claire.'
' Yes. Oh, look 1' Claire had the front door open
and they saw the rain rushing down the street as it fell
from the clouds. ' Peter says I can arrange with
Patrick, the chauffeur, any time you'd like me to come
and babysit and he'll fetch me.'
' That's nice of Peter.'
Claire laughed. ' I thought you said you hated him?
He's very nice, Molly, very, very nice indeed.'
no
Molly stood back, waving and watching Claire, her
shoulders hunched as the rain came beating down
mercilessly, as she ran across to the parking place she
had been fortunate enough to find. Claire turned and
waved as she reached the car, then Wendy cried loudly,
so Molly went inside, closing the door.
Claire started the car. She felt much better some-
how. It made things easier when you talked to some-
one. But she had not expected Molly to be so sympa-
thetic. Why had their parents been against Molly
marrying Reg? Claire wondered, as she drove carefully
down the road, the rain pounding against the wind-
screen. Then she remembered her father had not
approved of any of her friends either. No one, to
him, was good enough for his daughters! But Peter
was, she was sure of that. If only . . .
CHAPTER VII
A new way of life was started by Claire and Deirdre,
though it was sought without discussion. Peter was
away far longer than Claire had expected and as neither
she nor Deirdre wished to be together, a convenient
routine was begun. Deirdre was out a lot, but some-
times she announced that she would be in for lunch,
so on that day Claire would go into town, either to
shop or perhaps go to the office and solve some postal
or telephone problems with Peter's official secretary.
v The same thing happened if Deirdre said she would be
in to dinner: Claire would either dine early and go
to bed to read, or drive over to see her sister. Some-
times wondered if she was being wise and if Deirdre
would complain to Peter. But then, as Molly had said,
Claire knew she couldn't win whatever happened.
It was only when the monthly accounts arrived that
Claire felt something must be done, that she could no
longer ignore Deirdre. These were Peter's personal
accounts and he had arranged tor Claire to sign the
cheques in payment. Always she studied the accounts
carefully, checking to be sure Peter was not being
cheated. This time, however, she had a real shock,
for in all the nine months she had been working for
Peter, never once had his accounts been so high.
Puzzled, she read them through, then phoned the differ-
ent shops to see if some mistake had been made.
' No, Miss Bailey,' she was always reassured. ' A
Miss Deirdre Ellis purchased the garments.'
Claire frowned as she read the different items. Peter
had been extremely generous those first weeks, but it
didn't mean Deirdre could go on buying new dothes
all the time.
lias
jj| Claire's first impulse was to go and tell Deirdre so.
gPeter might be rich, but that didn't give Deirdre the
jlpght to sponge like this. Then Claire thought again 1
jlShe could imagine how Deirdre would complain to
||Peter, tell him of Claire's selfishness ... So maybe it
gvould be better to leave the accounts for Peter to see.
once she would not sign the cheques but leave
l|them, and she could ask him casually if it was all right
|to pay them. Of course they'd have to be paid, but
pile would not bother to look through the accounts
femiless she drew his attention to them.
Then suddenly she saw something that made her
jump to her feet, so angry that all common sense
vanished and only fury remained as she went to find
Deirdre. The girl happened to be in the hall, about
to go out. When she saw Claire coming down towards
her, a pile of papers in her hand, Deirdre quickly
opened the door.
' I want to speak to you I' Claire called, her voice
stiff with anger. She saw the surprise on Deirdre's
face and the way she stepped back almost as if afraid
she was going to be hit.
' Now what's wrong?' Deirdre asked sullenly, her
eyes wary.
'These accounts.' Claire waved them. 'They're
shockingly high this month. I see you've been buying
clothes . . .'
' Peter told me I could buy what I liked,' Deirdre
interrupted her.
' Yes,' Claire said, ' I know. But he did say clothes
for yourself and not for your boy-friend.'
Deirdre's face went red. ' He's not my boy-friend!'
She hesitated. ' Those clothes were for Peter,' she said,
and paused as if realising she had contradicted herself.
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