Voice of the Heart

‘Tell me, Kim, how was old Charlie managing to entertain you?’

Kim chuckled. ‘He was regaling me with marvellous stories about the “stage-door Johnnies” he has known in his time. He was frightfully funny, and even a bit risqué.’

‘Oh, and does he think you’re one?’ Katharine asked. ‘Are you his idea of a modern “stage-door Johnny”?’

‘Most probably!’ He glanced down at her. ‘I must say, old Charlie is very devoted to you, Katharine.’ He hesitated before adding. ‘And so is Terrence Ogden. He stopped to exchange a few words with me when he was leaving, and he positively raved about you. He also seemed a bit curious about this evening and our plans. He said he had wanted us to join him at the Buxton, that he had invited us.’

Katharine experienced a small jab of astonishment, and thought: invited us indeed. She said slowly, ‘Yes, he’s having a few chums to supper.’

‘Well, you do agree, don’t you?’

‘Agree about what, Kim?’

‘That Terry is devoted to you.’ Kim coughed behind his hand, and his voice was gruff as he ventured, ‘Actually, I think he has a crush on you.’

Laughter bubbled up in Katharine at the absurdity of this idea, and she was unable to suppress it. She looked up at Kim, her eyes crinkling with merriment. In the faint light from the street lamp she noticed the look of gloomy consternation on his face, and knew she must reassure him instantly.

‘Of course he doesn’t! He was only raving about me tonight because I helped him out in the second act. He almost blew his lines. And as for the invitation, well, he was just trying to be sociable, that’s all.’ Katharine was not sure she believed her own words. Perhaps Kim was correct in his assumption. If so it would explain Terry’s churlish attitude after she had refused the invitation, and his comment about Victor also. But she had no intention of confirming Kim’s suspicions. Rather, she had to allay them, and immediately. ‘Anyway, Terry is in love with Alexa Garrett. They are having a wild and highly-publicized romance, don’t you know?’

‘I see,’ Kim said, sounding less than convinced, even though he knew she was being truthful. He had seen items about Terry and Alexa in the newspapers. On the other hand, Terry had spoken very possessively about Katharine, and in a manner which disturbed Kim. ‘Why does he always call you Puss?’ Kim asked, striving for an off-handed tone without much success. ‘It seems awfully familiar to me.’

This comment momentarily floored Katharine, and she was about to point out that the theatre, by its very nature, bred familiarity, but changed her mind. She was aware of Kim’s tenseness, and sensing the question sprang from a spark of jealousy rather than any oblique criticism of her, she explained, ‘Because when I was a student at RADA, Terry saw me play Cleopatra in Caesar and Cleopatra. He thought I was decidedly feline, and has called me Puss ever since.’

‘Oh,’ Kim murmured, at a loss for words. He looked at her through the corner of his eye and said, ‘I didn’t know you had been friends with Terry for that long. I thought you met him for the first time when you went into the play.’

‘I’m not sure what you mean by that long, Kim. I’ve only been out of the Royal Academy a couple of years. Anybody would think I’m a decrepit old woman, the way you talk,’ she laughed.

They had arrived at the car. Kim released her arm and went to unlock it. He returned and helped her in, then slid into his seat, and he was oddly silent as he drove up the Haymarket and into Piccadilly, heading in the direction of Mayfair. After a while Katharine touched his arm lightly and there was a soft expression on her face. ‘Terry’s not interested in me, at least not romantically, Kim. Honestly.’

‘If you say so,’ Kim replied grudgingly. It was not Katharine’s fault that Ogden had behaved like an ass earlier, and here he was being surly with her.

The last thing Katharine wanted was for Kim to be in a jealous frame of mind this evening because of its extreme importance to her. She needed his goodwill; furthermore she did not want him to be prickly or difficult with Victor present. She said carefully, ‘Even if he were attracted to me in that way, it wouldn’t matter to me. For the simple reason that I’m not interested in Terrence Ogden. Not the least little bit.’ She laughed disdainfully. ‘I know too much about actors and their monumental egos to get entangled with them, my love. Besides, you know I’m not fickle. How could I possibly care for Terry when I’m so involved with you.’

Kim visibly relaxed, and his wide smile virtually illuminated the little car. ‘I’m glad to hear that, Katharine darling,’ was about all he could manage at this moment. Kim knew that he had been leading Katharine along until she made some sort of verbal commitment to him. This was the strongest statement he had heard in the few months he had known her, but for the time being it sufficed. Within seconds his warm, easygoing manner was completely restored, and he eventually launched into a long story about the planting of new trees at Langley. Katharine settled back to listen, although this was only with half an ear.

She was engrossed in her own thoughts. Victor Mason was most prominent in them. She wondered if he had been to the play tonight, but more importantly, whether he had kept his promise to her. Quite unexpectedly, Katharine’s heart missed a beat and she caught her breath. For the first time she was struck by the precarious nature of her immediate plans. They hinged on one man – Victor Mason. If Victor let her down then she had wasted weeks of precious time, and everything would have been in vain. My God, if she had misjudged him the setback would be enormous. She clasped her handbag more tightly, and admitted, with a sinking feeling, that despite her meticulous planning, she had not allowed for one vital contingency: the possibility that Victor Mason might change his mind.

Katharine was a peculiar amalgam of naïveté and sophistication. Whilst she was inexperienced in some aspects of life, she nonetheless had an innate shrewdness and was perceptive about people, often displaying amazing insight. Her understanding of human nature was astonishing in one so young, and she rarely made mistakes in her judgment. She took solace in this now, deciding she had no alternative but to trust her instincts. They confirmed her original assessment of Victor as being wholly correct. She relaxed her grip on the handbag, absolutely convinced he had kept the promise he had made to her several weeks ago. Perhaps not out of friendship, or generosity of spirit towards her, but for one other very simple reason, and it was the most compelling reason of all. Self-interest. Victor Mason needed her, and she had astutely recognized this the first time she had met him.

Cynical as this thought was, it did happen to be the truth, and recalling that Katharine cheered up. Also, to her relief, she discovered she was feeling much better physically. The exhaustion which had been so debilitating at the end of the evening performance had miraculously disappeared. The quick walk from the theatre to the car had been invigorating, and the fresh air, damp though it was, had filled her lungs with oxygen.

‘Anyway, those trees do make all the difference at the far end of the Long Pasture, and Father is really pleased I thought of starting the small copse. It’s going to be invaluable in years to come,’ Kim was saying.

‘That’s wonderful. I’m glad it worked out so well,’ Katharine answered automatically. Kim was given to waxing eloquent about the land, and even though she had heard it all before, more or less, she always endeavoured to show real interest. She had come to understand, very early in their relationship, that Kim’s love of the land reached deep into his soul. He was a dedicated farmer, and would be for the rest of his life. Langley, and all it encompassed, was his life.

‘Well, here we are,’ Kim announced briskly, bringing the car to a standstill in Chesterfield Street.

Katharine said, ‘You know, you haven’t told me much about your sister, except that she’s pretty, Kim. Don’t you think- ‘

‘And I haven’t told her much about you either,’ Kim interrupted laughingly. ‘It’s better that way. Neither of you has any preconceived ideas about the other.’

‘But she must know I’m an actress.’

‘She does.’

‘Does she work? Does she do anything special?’ Although Katharine was neither nervous nor apprehensive about meeting Kim’s sister, she did harbour a few reservations, even doubts, about the chances of their becoming close friends. Lady Francesca Cunningham, titled in her own right as the daughter of an earl, might easily be one of those cold, snobbish debutantes so typical of the British aristocracy. The fact that Kim was the exception to the rule in this class-conscious society did not guarantee that his sister was cut from the same cloth. And if this was the case they would have little in common, and there would be no real basis upon which to build a friendship. Of course it wasn’t absolutely necessary for them to become bosom chums, Katharine acknowledged. As long as there was a cordiality between them everything would work out, and certainly it would make the situation much easier to control.

‘From your silence, I gather she’s a lady of leisure,’ Katharine went on lightly. Her fingers curled around the door handle and she made to alight.

Kim reached out and restrained her gently. ‘She doesn’t go to work but she does work hard,’ he explained. ‘She’s a writer. At the moment she’s doing research for an historical biography. She’s always poking around in history books and she’s practically moved into the British Museum. Anyway, she’s kind of artistic, so I know you’ll have lots in common. Don’t worry.’

‘Oh, I’m not in the least bit worried,’ Katharine assured him with a bright self-confident smile, and she meant every word, for few things ever fazed her.

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_2de64e37-79ba-57ad-9d9d-e555003db014)

The moment Katharine Tempest entered the drawing room Francesca’s eyes were riveted on her. She found herself staring in astonishment and she thought: This girl is too improbable to be real. Everything about her is improbable. Only Francesca’s good manners prevented her from displaying her startled reaction as she rose from the chair near the fireplace to welcome her guest.

The girl who walked with an easy swinging grace across the floor was obviously in her early twenties, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two. She wore an extremely sophisticated dress, and in consequence, to Francesca, she looked like a little girl dressed up in mother’s clothes. Made of fine black wool crepe, the dress was of mid-calf length, with a draped neckline, a straight skirt and dolman sleeves, and it was unrelieved by any touches of accent colour or jewellery. It struck Francesca that it was the perfect foil for the girl’s looks, and she decided it was exactly right on her after all.

Kim followed closely on Katharine’s heels, smiling broadly, and when they neared the fireplace he stepped forward to introduce the two girls to each other.

As Francesca stretched out her hand she found herself looking into the most extraordinary face she had ever seen. Katharine Tempest was lovely, and breathtakingly so. Her eyes, not blue, not green, but a unique turquoise, made the initial impact, and they were startling in their vividness of colour. They were large and set wide apart, fringed with silky black lashes, and they appeared to swamp her face with radiance.

Francesca thought the girl’s features could not have been more exquisite if they had been chiselled by a sculptor. They were harmoniously distributed in an oval face that was perfectly balanced: a smooth brow, a small straight nose, high cheekbones above hollow cheeks, and a rounded chin. The symmetrical brows matched the rich dark-chestnut hair. This was parted in the centre and cascaded in glossy waves to her shoulders. Her white skin, which was exceptionally fine, was totally devoid of colour, which was why her full mouth, painted with the brightest of red lipstick, seemed all the more striking. Yet it was a child-like mouth, and now, as she smiled, it turned up at the corners to give her a look of innocence. There was also an unusual sweetness in her face that was both poignant and touching. In those first few moments, Francesca could only stand and stare speechlessly at this slender young woman who was accompanying her brother.

It was Katharine who broke the silence.

‘Thank you for inviting me.’ She spoke softly and her gaze was open and friendly as she regarded Francesca with not inconsiderable interest. Aware though she was of her own startling beauty and the impact it made, vanity was not one of Katharine’s chief characteristics. In some ways she was even self-effacing at times, and she strove always to find something special in others, especially those she wanted to like. She said to herself: Kim didn’t do his sister justice. She’s really lovely. The perfect English rose.

‘And I’m so glad you could come,’ Francesca said, returning the smile. ‘Please make yourself comfortable, Katharine. And Kim, why don’t you open the champagne. It’s over there on the chest.’

‘Splendid idea,’ Kim said. He beamed at them both and hurried across the room, rattling the bottle in the silver bucket as he attacked the cork. ‘I think I need a cloth to grip this better,’ he said and went out to the kitchen.

Apart from her physical beauty and unquestionable talent, Katharine possessed that most essential and desirable of all human ingredients, the quality of natural charm, and it was a charm so powerful it was at once dangerous and devastating in its potency. Seating herself on the sofa, Katharine looked across at Francesca and the full force of that charm was now levelled with great concentration in her direction. Katharine smiled. It was her most dazzling smile, guaranteed to disarm, ensnare and enchant.

She said: ‘It’s very nice of you to make supper for us, especially at this late hour. That’s the only problem with being an actress, my world is topsy turvy, and my social life begins when everyone is going to bed.’ She laughed her spiralling laugh. ‘It’s a terrible imposition on my non-theatrical friends, I’m afraid, having to entertain me in the wee small hours. If they want to see me, that is. Sometimes they don’t, and I can’t say I blame them. Not everyone wants to be carousing at midnight, sometimes even later than that!’

‘Oh, I don’t mind, really I don’t,’ Francesca was quick to say. ‘And at least it’s Sunday tomorrow. We can all sleep late.’

Katharine turned and glanced around the room. She was conscious of the beauty of the setting, with its gleaming antiques, the objects of art and the fine paintings. The coral walls gave it a roseate cast, this ambience further enhanced by the lamplight and the fire glowing in the grate. Katharine thought of her little birdcage of a flat, in comparison so sparse and utilitarian. But there was not a shred of envy in her. She was reminded instead of another room, from the happy time of her childhood, before her mother had fallen ill, when her life had been joyous, filled with love and tenderness. It was so very long ago now it might have been a lovely dream, yet Katharine knew otherwise. And it seemed to her that this elegant drawing room in London was just as safe as that other room had been, for it gave her a similar sense of permanence and security. She felt protected from the harsh world that existed beyond these walls. Unexpectedly, she experienced a feeling of longing she did not fully comprehend.

‘How beautiful this room is, Francesca. It’s so gracious, and I love a fire on a nasty wintry night.’ A wistful expression flickered briefly on her face, and there was a small silence before she added quietly, ‘It’s so friendly and inviting.’

‘And comforting too,’ Francesca suggested in a tone that was full of understanding.

Their eyes met and inwardly they assessed each other. Neither Katharine nor Francesca knew it but something very special was beginning between them. A bond was being forged, and it would prove to be a bond so strong and enduring it would resist all outside forces and influences for well over a decade. And when it was finally broken, both of them would be devastated.

But now, this night, they simply knew they liked each other, although they did not, as yet, reveal this. The prolonged silence continued to drift between them, but there were no feelings of awkwardness and they went on appraising each other quite overtly.