TWO days later Susan Rogers arrived at the villa and Rose was struck anew at the girl's freshness and vitality. In next to no time she had settled down with them as if she were a member of the family and seeing the ease between her and Lance, Rose recollected that they had spent their childhood years together.
There was no denying the bond this could be and she wondered whether Susan had ever been in love with Lance. She found herself watching them more
closely than she had done in London and saw not only familiarity between them but also the evident pleasure they drew from each other's company.
The morning, after Susan's arrival she had been awakened by the sharp crack of a ball coming from the tennis court below and she had looked from her
bedroom window and seen Susan and Lance playing together. By the time she went downstairs they had finished their game and were sipping coffee in the dining room.
"I hope we didn't wake you," Lance said anxiously. "I'd forgotten until we started to play that your bedroom overlooks the court."
"I was awake ages before," Rose said swiftly. "And anyway, it's a lovely sound."
From then on she was awakened by the same sound every day and would lie in bed listening not only to the crack of the ball but the laughter and badinage that floated up on the still air.
The weather could not have been lovelier for this time of the year. The skies were blue and the sun warmed the air sufficiently for them to sit on the lawns from mid- morning until early afternoon. In the evenings when the air grew chill, the fire was lit in the drawing room and they would sit grouped around it and play records or talk.
At the end of the week Alan arrived, his brief case bulging with papers, and from then on Rose and Susan were thrown into one another's company. There was no doubt that Susan was excellent company for she bubbled over with joie de vivre and was completely unconscious of her attraction. Rose learned a lot about Lance from her during this time and listened to long stories of his
escapades at school and university, escapades from which Helen Rogers had always managed to extricate him.
"She looked on Lance as a son," Susan said one evening as they were sitting alone together. "I suppose it's because she's never had any children of her own."
"She was lucky to have you."
"A woman prefers a son," Susan said, nodding her head wisely. "And she doted on Lance — just like other women did. Or perhaps I should say do!"
Rose smiled. "I'd have thought you and Lance would have — would have—"
"Fallen in love?" Susan finished for her. "I was crazy about him when I was
sixteen, but he never had eyes for me and I grew out of it."
"Can you grow out of love?" Rose asked. "I wish I believed that!"
Susan looked at her intensely but she did not press for an explanation and seemed content to let the conversation end. She put on the radiogram and when Lance and Alan came into the room she was dancing round the floor, the short skirts of her white chiffon dress floating around her. She made a
beautiful picture, her short blonde hair flying, her expression dreamy as she danced with an imaginary partner. As she swung past Lance he pulled her close and without losing step they began to waltz around the room.
Alan watched them for a moment and then sat next to Rose. The glow of the firelight tinged his face with color, but it was a false color, she knew, for he had gone pale and a muscle twitched at the side of his eye.
The music continued and so did the dancing couple, switching from waltz to tango and from tango to cha cha. More than ever Rose was aware of her
disability and of all that Lance had lost by marrying her. Abruptly she stood up, knocking over the ashtray on the arm of the settee. It clattered to the floor and Lance and Susan stopped dancing.
"Don't mind me," Rose said in a high voice. "I — I'm feeling tired. I'll go to bed."
"It's pretty late," Lance said. "We'll all go to bed."
"No, don't. I'll feel guilty if I break up the party."
She left the room and crossed to the stairs. Behind her she heard steps and without turning knew it was Alan.
Together they went up to the first floor and he stopped outside the door of her bedroom. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but though he stared at her he did not speak and she was too full of her own sadness to encourage him.
"Goodnight," she said swiftly and closed the door on him, wishing she could as easily close the door on her emotions.
The days passed and Lance made no mention of returning to London. He flew back with Alan for a conference but returned after two days, giving the
impression that as far as he was concerned he could now stay at the villa
indefinitely. The days settled down into a routine pattern. In the morning Lance and Susan would play tennis and in the afternoon they would swim in the small indoor pool or go for a long walk. Whenever they did this they always asked Rose to accompany them, but she refused, protesting that she preferred to read and relax in the sunshine. Twice a week Lance and Susan would disappear for the day to the golf course and Rose and Alan were left to their own devices.
It was on these days that Alan started to take her exploring and they would motor up to the mountains where the air was crisper and colder and lunch at a small hotel in Vence or one of the other picturesque Provencal villages.
It was on the occasion of their fourth outing that Alan told her he was considering leaving Lance's employment.
"I want to go back into business proper," he said by way of explanation. "And if I'm with Lance I'd always have to dance attendance on him."
"Have you told him?"
"Not yet. But I know he'll understand."
"I'm sure he will. Will you go into the Hammond business? That's what you wanted to do."
"I know, but I'm not sure it's the best thing. It might be wiser to cut the Hammonds out of my life completely."
Even though he did not mention Susan's name, Rose sensed the inference and the food she was eating tasted like ashes in hex mouth. Could Alan's decision to leave Lance mean that he sensed that some time in the future Lance and Susan would marry? She longed to ask him, but pride forbade her and she deliberately changed the subject.
When they returned to the villa Lance and Susan were already there sipping a drink and arguing vehemently about their game of golf.
"Had a good day?" Lance asked as Rose came in.
"Lovely," she lied. "We drove to a particularly pretty village in the mountains."
She launched into a vivid description of what she and Alan had done, the effort of pretence giving her an unusual animation. Alan too, now that he had put into words his resolve to leave Lance, seemed to have lost his diffidence, and
Lance and Susan, watching them both felt that something had happened between them.
Rose picked up her handbag and the scarf which she had dropped on to the settee.
"I feel so grimy I must go up and have a bath before dinner. Have you any plans for this evening Lance?"
"I thought maybe we'd go to the Casino."
She nodded and went out and Lance saw she had dropped her scarf. He picked it up and followed her, leaving Susan and Alan together. Alan silently took a cigarette out of a china box and lit it.
"Can I have one?" Susan said behind him, her voice curiously breathless.
Still in silence he passed her one.
"Can I have a light too?" she said. "I'm sorry to bother you."
"It's no bother." He flicked his lighter and she bent her head to the flame, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air before she drew back.
"I don't like seeing you smoke," he said abruptly.
"I'm not a child. I can do what I like."
"I didn't mean it from that point of view. It's just that you're young enough not to get into bad habits."
"I'm over twenty-one," she retorted. "Old enough to be married and have children."
The cigarette jerked in Alan's hand, sending ash on to the floor.
"Don't sound so belligerent, old girl. It doesn't suit you."
"And it doesn't suit you to keep talking to me as if I were a child."
"I don't think of you as a child. You're a lovely young woman and you'll make
someone a wonderful wife."
"Oh?" Her pale grey eyes looked at him instantly. "You wouldn't have anyone in mind, would you?"
"You don't need me to choose your suitors. Just watch out for the fortune hunters, that's all."
'I'm very well able to do that," she said brightly. "I just automatically scrub out any man whose income's below a certain level."
The smile on Alan's face grew fixed.
"That's a good way of doing it." he said expressionlessly. "I couldn't have thought of a better way myself."
"After all," Susan prattled on, "a girl likes to know that the man she marries would love her whether she had money or not."
"It's no different for a man. You just have to look at Lance to see that."
Susan tossed back her hair. "He nearly fell in the soup with Enid didn't he?"
she said crudely. "But he was lucky to meet a girl like Rose. I mean, she couldn't have given him more proof that she loved him, could she? Following him when he went out in the speedboat and getting injured and all that."
"There's no need to be sarcastic. Rose happens to be a wonderful person."
"I wasn't being sarcastic. I happen to like Rose very much indeed. I was just talking for talking's sake."
"Well, don't," he said cruelly. "It's inclined to make you stupid."
Tears sprang into her eyes and she turned her head away quickly to hide them.
"What about you?" she said with her back still towards him. "Are you going to be a bachelor gay for ever?"
"I'm not cut out for marriage."
"Don't tell me you've never been in love."
She half turned back to him and the jewelled cross at her throat sparkled in the reflection of the lamp behind her. It was a jewel she always wore, left to her by her father and given to her by her aunt on her eighteenth birthday.
Each stone was blue-white and although the cross was not more than an inch in diameter its value was in excess of what Alan could earn in five years.
Seeing it hardened any weakness of resolve he had felt in Susan's proximity, and when he spoke his voice was colder than it had ever been.
"The woman I happen to love is out of my reach and I'm not prepared to take second best."
"Second best can sometimes be better than nothing."
"I don't agree with you." He stubbed out his cigarette. "If you don't mind I've got some work to do."
"Must you go? I mean can't you stay and talk to me?"
"No."
He smiled politely and walked out and the moment she was alone Susan flung herself on the settee.
"Hey, what's the matter?"
She looked up, her face tear-stained, to see Lance staring at her in concern.
"I'm sorry," she gulped. "I'm just in a paddy."
"I can see that. Had a row with Alan?"
"It's impossible to row with that stuffed shirt! Honestly, he makes me sick.
Wasting his life loving someone he can never have…"
Lance's expression tightened. "I wonder whom he meant."
"Rose, I should think," Susan replied artlessly. "He's a fool if he can't see he's wasting his time."
"Well, thanks," Lance said dryly, "considering she's my wife…"
Susan grimaced. "What a tactless idiot I am. Still, I'm sure you knew."
"I knew he was in love with someone, but I didn't know it was Rose." He
walked moodily up and down the carpet. "He and Rose were friends long before I came on the scene. He had his chance then if she'd wanted him.".
"Obviously she didn't." Susan sat up and smoothed her hair. "That's why I can't understand him not trying to make something of his life instead of saying he'll never get married. Honestly, I could kick him."
Although her tone was vehement, she looked so woebegone that Lance came over and ruffled her hair.
"Why should you take it so much to heart? Alan's quite old enough to manage his own affairs."
She was so motionless that he bent to look at her, and as he did so his expression became one of comical surprise.
"Good lord! You don't mean you're in love with him?"
"Yes. Ridiculous, isn't it? Here am I, rich enough and pretty enough — I'm not conceited but I know I'm pretty — to have almost any man I want and yet the one I do want can't see me from a hole in the wall!"
"That isn't true, Sue. Alan's very fond of you."
"The way a man is about his dog." She swung her feet impatiently. "He just sees me as a child. I told him I was old enough to be married and have children, and you should have seen the way he looked at me."
Lance rubbed the side of his jaw reflectively. "Seems to me it's up to you to make him see you're not a child."
"What do you suggest I do — a strip tease?"
"Nothing as obvious as that! Perhaps if he saw you in a passionate clinch with another man… Yes, that might do the trick."
"It's a wonderful solution," she said dryly. "Now tell me who I'm supposed to have the passionate clinches with."
"Me."
"You! You can't be serious. What would Rose think?"
"She wouldn't mind," he replied, and sitting down, caught Susan's hands. "Our marriage isn't a marriage in the proper sense. I asked Rose to be my wife for a variety of reasons, but love didn't happen to be one of them. Call it rebound from Enid if you like. Call it guilt over Rose's accident. But anyway, I asked her to marry me."
Susan looked puzzled. "I can understand your motives, but I'm blowed if I can understand Rose's. Why should she agree to marry you if she didn't love you?
She wasn't after your money — that I'm sure of."
"Loneliness, maybe," Lance replied. "I caught her at a time when she was feeling pretty despondent."
"What's going to happen to you both? You can't go on like this, can you?"
"No. At least, I don't know about Rose, but I can't. I want—" He stopped. "But here am I telling you what I want when I'm supposed to be helping you get what you want. What do you say to my suggestion? You've nothing to lose and a lot to gain."
She hesitated and grinned. "You really are a most handsome creature, Lance. I can't think why my heart doesn't go bangety-bang when I'm with you."
"Thank heavens it doesn't." He pulled her to her feet and hugged her. "From now on I'm going to follow you around with eyes of love, so don't be surprised if I suddenly clutch you in my arms."
"I won't," she said. "But make sure Alan's around to see it."
"Naturally, sweet Sue. That's the whole reason for the exercise!"
But unfortunately it was not Alan who saw Lance kiss Susan for the first time, but Rose, and it happened a few days after Susan had agreed to his
suggestion. Rose and Alan had driven down to the village leaving the other two playing a game of table-tennis in the recreation room, on the north side of the villa. Although Susan and Lance had no view of the front of the house and the driveway, they were able to hear the sound of any car, and it was when they
heard one approaching that Lance threw down his bat and grabbed Susan in his arms.
"Now's our chance, old girl. Alan's car has just got back and they're bound to come round here to see if we're still playing. We'll give them sixty seconds to walk the distance after we hear the car doors slam and then we'll go into a clinch."
Amused by Lance's cloak and dagger attitude. Susan's eyes sparkled and she lost any sense of embarrassment she might otherwise have felt. Lance looked at his watch, murmured "Time's up" and pulled her close as the door opened.
Rose stood on the threshold and stared at them.
After driving to the village Alan had decided to go for a walk and Rose had bought some postcards and then driven the car back herself. Parking it in the drive she had strolled through the house in search of Lance and Susan, never envisaging for one moment that she would find them in such a compromising attitude. She was not aware of having made a sound, but she must have uttered some exclamation for Susan pulled free of Lance's embrace and turned, color flooding her face as she saw who was watching her.
"I — I thought you'd gone down to the village," she stammered.
Rose tried to speak, but no words came and it was left to Lance who, Rose thought numbly, must have had experience in dealing with similar situations to bridge the awkward moment.
He stepped forward and took the package she was clutching.
"I see you've bought a collection of cards," he said lightly, "I never knew you had so many friends to write to."
"I — I thought I might as well get a selection and keep them here."
She was determined to control her emotions and once she started to talk,
words flowed, although afterwards she could not remember what she had said.
All she could remember was the sight of Lance holding Susan in his arms. How stupid she had been not to see the inevitability of this. What was more natural than that, thrown together the way they were, he should suddenly realize all she had to offer him: not only similarity of background and shared memories, but also health and vitality.