A Passionate Affair

She made a face at Chris’s disbelievingly raised eyebrows, and listened with assumed concentration to what the accountant had to say. Obviously, the fact that his father and Mike’s had been friends gave a certain partiality to his tone, and in spite of her misgivings, he seemed to think she could well afford professional advice.

‘I’d like to call and look over your books,’ he ventured at last. ‘When would that be convenient? I don’t want to interfere with your working schedules.’

‘Oh—–’ Cassandra shrugged her shoulders, and put her hand over the mouthpiece so that she could speak privately to Chris. ‘He wants to come and look at the books,’ she said, looking anxious. ‘Do you really think it’s a good idea?’

‘Sure,’ Chris nodded. ‘Tell him to come tomorrow, while you’re down at Windsor. I guess I could manage to show him round.’

Cassandra nodded. ‘Oh, good.’ She removed her hand, and spoke to Paul Ludlum again. ‘Would tomorrow morning be all right?’

‘Tomorrow morning? Yes, I think I could manage that. Around eleven?’

‘Around eleven,’ Cassandra repeated in agreement, then rang off before she could change her mind.

‘What’s your problem?’ Chris demanded, as she chewed unhappily on the end of her pencil. ‘We’re going to need an accountant, Cass. You can’t keep on burning the candle at both ends.’

‘Hardly that,’ she grimaced.

‘No. But you do work in the evenings, when you should be out enjoying yourself.’

‘Oh, yes?’ Cassandra was sardonic. ‘Chris, I don’t honestly think I was cut out for enjoying myself.’

‘What rubbish!’ Chris was impatient. ‘Look, just because Mike made your life a misery—–’

‘Let’s not talk about that, Chris.’

Cassandra interrupted him, but Chris was determined to be heard. ‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘I know he’s dead, and you don’t want to say bad things about him, but let’s face it—he wasn’t the man to make you happy.’

Cassandra went to plug in the kettle. ‘Maybe it was my fault,’ she mumbled, her back to him, smarting from the remembrance of her lunch with Jay Ravek. ‘Maybe I don’t—well—–’

‘Well—what?’

‘I don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe I attract the wrong kind of men.’

‘What—–’ muttered Chris, swearing under his breath, but Cassandra heard him and shook her head.

‘I mean it. Perhaps the kind of man I really need isn’t attracted to me.’

‘Oh, Cass—–’

‘Well, why not?’ She grimaced. ‘I guess I give the wrong impression. Mike used to say that.’

Chris raised his eyes heavenward. ‘Cass, you’re a sexy lady—–’

‘I may look that way, but I’m not,’ declared Cassandra firmly, her lips twitching a little at the incongruity of this conversation. ‘Honestly, Chris, I don’t think I’m cut out for—well, for that kind of a relationship. I thought I was—but I was wrong.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_34f347a5-f6bb-5e55-9845-c82dfcb4bfbe)

TWO days later the weather changed. It had been cold and damp, but not frosty, however, when Cassandra awakened on Friday morning, it was to find the roofs of the flats opposite were white with snow. It was very picturesque, if less so in the street below. The movement of cars and milk-floats, and the constant tramp of feet, had left a slushy mess that was anything but attractive, and she turned away from the window, wishing it was Saturday.

It had seemed an unusually long week, and she could only put it down to the poor nights she was having. Since Wednesday, and her abortive outing with Jay Ravek, she had been unable to relax, and she had been looking forward to the weekend and the chance to get out of London.

She was hoping to go up to Derbyshire, to stay with some friends of Mike’s, but the forecast was not encouraging. There had been heavy falls of snow outside the London area and Derbyshire had been mentioned, so she prepared her breakfast resignedly, realising her trip might well have to be cancelled.

Her doorbell rang as she was eating a slice of toast, and going to answer it she found Mike’s mother on the threshold. An attractive woman in her late forties, Thea Roland kissed her daughter-in-law warmly, and at her invitation entered the flat, accepting the offer of a cup of coffee.

‘I came to see whether you’re still planning to drive up to Matlock, darling,’ she said, draping herself elegantly over the arm of the sofa. ‘Have you heard the weather forecast? It’s not good.’

‘I know.’ Cassandra poured her mother-in-law’s coffee. ‘I was just wondering what I should do.’

‘Don’t go,’ declared Mrs Roland at once, accepting the cup Cassandra proffered. ‘Darling, it would be madness to drive all that way! Besides, with the roads so bad, it wouldn’t be worth it. You’d hardly get there before you had to come home.’

‘Yes.’ Cassandra bit her lip indecisively. ‘And I was so hoping to get away.’

‘Were you?’ Mrs Roland regarded her speculatively for a moment. ‘I thought you were looking a little tense last evening. Is anything wrong? Paul didn’t turn his thumbs down or anything, did he?’

‘Paul? Oh, you mean the accountant.’ Cassandra shook her head. ‘No. No, actually, he was rather optimistic.’

‘I told you so!’ Mrs Roland looked delighted. ‘What did you think of him? I meant to ask you.’

‘Well, I didn’t meet him, as it happens,’ Cassandra sighed. ‘I had to go to Windsor. Chris handled it.’

‘Did he? What a shame!’ Mrs Roland’s eyes twinkled. ‘I rather hoped you’d approve of that young man.’

Cassandra gave a rueful smile. ‘Oh, Thea! Not matchmaking again!’

‘Why not?’ Thea Roland was unabashed. ‘Darling, you’re so young. You mustn’t let Mike’s death influence you. You have plenty of time to marry again, and give me some grandchildren. Oh, yes,’ this as Cassandra would have interrupted her, ‘I shall consider your children my grandchildren. Just as I consider you the daughter I never had.’

Cassandra bent to hug the older woman. ‘Thea, that’s very sweet of you, but—–’

‘I know. You don’t want to get married again.’

‘Right.’

‘You will.’ Thea sounded confident. ‘Oh, and by the way, did you ever get in touch with that man who rang on Tuesday evening? You remember—Jay Ravek?’

Cassandra took a deep breath. ‘He—as a matter of fact he came to the studio on Wednesday.’

‘Did he?’ Thea looked intrigued.

‘Yes.’ Cassandra spoke offhandedly. ‘Unfortunately I—we were unable to help him.’

‘What a pity!’ Thea was irrepressible. ‘He sounded nice. Even if he does have quite a reputation.’

Cassandra turned away to clear the table of her dirty cup and plate. ‘Well, I don’t want to rush you, Thea, but—–’

‘I know—you have to go.’ Thea got up obediently, and carried her cup through to the tiny kitchen. ‘But you will reconsider going to Derbyshire, won’t you, Cass? I shall worry terribly if you insist on taking the car.’

Cassandra hugged her again. ‘I promise I’ll give the matter careful consideration,’ she said. ‘I suppose I could always use the train.’