Loren's Baby

Caryn drew in a long breath and expelled it unsteadily. ‘So you deny that the child is yours?’

There was silence for a moment and then he turned and rested back against the side of his desk, one hand on either side of him supporting his body. ‘Tell me about the child,’ he said. ‘Tell me how she died.’

Caryn sought for words. ‘I—she—when you fired her—’ She waited for him to deny this, but when he didn’t, she went on: ‘When you fired her, she came back to London. To—to the flat.’

‘Your parents’ flat?’ he inquired.

‘No. Mine.’ Caryn hesitated, then she went on: ‘Our parents are dead. We were brought up in Maidstone by an elderly aunt, but when I was old enough, I left there to take a commercial course in London. Then when Loren was older, she did the same.’

‘And you shared the flat?’

‘Well, it was my flat really. Loren wasn’t there all the time. She had … friends …’

‘Friends?’

‘Yes, friends.’ Caryn saw no point in revealing that Loren had always preferred the company of men to women. ‘Anyway, later on she got this job, down here—living in. I—I advised her not to take it.’

‘Why not?’ He was curious.

‘Because of you. Because of your reputation,’ declared Caryn firmly.

‘What reputation?’ he pursued tautly.

Caryn was discomfited. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes, I think it does.’

She sighed. ‘You know what I mean as well as I do.’

‘You shouldn’t believe all you read in the papers, Miss Stevens,’ he retorted.

‘Obviously not,’ she flared. ‘They omitted to mention that you were married.’

‘My wife died when Angela was three. Does that absolve me from that particular crime?’

Caryn flushed. ‘It’s nothing to do with me.’

‘Is any of this?’

‘Yes. I—I was with Loren when she died.’

He hunched his shoulders. ‘Go on. When did she tell you she was pregnant?’

Caryn hesitated. ‘Not for some time. She—she was so thin, you see. It—hardly showed.’

He frowned. ‘Did she get another job?’

‘No.’ Caryn was reluctant to tell everything that happened those last few months, but perhaps she owed him that, at least. ‘She—as you know, there are not that many jobs around. And—and she was—listless, without enthusiasm. She said she had written to you and asked you to take her back again.’

‘She knew I was going to East Africa.’

‘Yes. She collected all the cuttings.’

‘My God!’ He sounded disgusted.

‘But she wrote to you after you got back. As I said before, you never replied.’

‘I told Mrs Forrest to ignore those letters. I knew what Loren was like. I knew she wouldn’t give up that easily.’

‘She depended on you …’

‘She was a leech!’

‘She was so happy here to begin with. She used to write such excited letters, telling me how you used to take her with you on certain assignments—’

‘I took her once,’ he declared heavily.

‘Nevertheless, you took advantage of her.’

‘I did what?’

‘She told me how—how you used to—to pester her—’

‘What?’ He stared at her incredulously.

‘—coming home drunk after parties. Forcing your attentions upon her—’

‘Is that what she told you?’

‘Of course.’

‘And you believed it?’

‘Why not? Loren didn’t lie about things like that.’

‘Didn’t she?’

‘I suppose you used to get her drunk, too,’ Caryn accused him. ‘Was that how you got into her bed?’

‘Oh, my God!’ His face twisted. ‘Do you think I’d have to do that to sleep with her?’ He shook his head.

‘I don’t believe you.’

He shrugged. ‘Unlike your sister, I cannot arouse your sympathy or your trust.’ He gave a bitter smile. ‘But we’re straying from the point, aren’t we? You still haven’t told me why you’re here.’

‘I should have thought that was obvious.’

‘Well, I’m sorry. It’s not.’