Breaking the Rules

‘What’s that?’ he asked, cutting in.

‘Luck. You’ve got to have Lady Luck on your side.’

He grimaced. ‘So far she hasn’t been anywhere in sight.’

‘Listen, go to Hollywood, Dax! Do it! Don’t listen to me and other nay-sayers. Take a chance, go out there and make it. I’m certainly behind you. Forget what I said about it being crowded with good-looking young talent … go and compete, and I wish you lots of luck!’ She laughed. ‘Just don’t forget me, will you? You’re the only friend I have in the whole of America.’

‘How could I ever forget you? You’re an original, M.’

THREE (#ulink_52a35864-2f05-50e2-a90e-8c8e9addd9a2)

M was dozing, almost asleep, when she heard the noise. It brought her up with a start, and she tensed, straining to hear. There it was again … fainter now, but nevertheless quite a distinct sound, like metal falling on a hard surface.

There was somebody in the house. Alarmed, she remained very still, her mind racing. It couldn’t be Geo. She was in New Jersey, and Annette Lazenby, who rented the small attic apartment above her, was in Afghanistan on one of her journalistic assignments.

But there was somebody down there in the entrance hall, somebody who had obviously broken into the brownstone; how they had done this she wasn’t sure. M knew she had locked the door of the studio, which led to the garden, and later, when Dax had gone home, she had definitely double-locked the front door. But the alarm system was on the blink again, and she hadn’t been able to turn it on.

Was there a window open somewhere?

She swallowed, sudden fear rushing through her, and for a split second she was totally paralysed, unable to move, wondering what to do. Then, taking a deep breath, endeavouring to steady herself, M threw back the bedclothes and slid out of bed. Quickly taking off her nightgown, she dressed in the clothes she had shed a short while before, suddenly noticing that her hands shook as she zipped up her cotton trousers.

After stepping into her loafers, she found her old Louis Vuitton shoulder bag in the cupboard, took it out, dropped in her mobile phone, wallet and door key, then slung it over her head with the strap across her chest. That was always the safest way to wear it, and especially right now. She might well get into a tussle with whomever it was downstairs.

Moving closer to the bedroom door, she stood listening for a split second; the silence was deafening. Her umbrella was hanging on the hook behind the door, and she decided to take it with her. It was the only weapon available.

Trying to be scrupulously quiet, she opened the door an inch or two and peered out. Everything was in darkness and very still; nothing moved. Summoning all of her courage, she went out into the corridor, and crept the few short steps to the head of the staircase; slowly, carefully, she began to walk down the stairs, holding on to the banister.

M was almost at the bottom of the stairs when a strong hand grabbed hold of her arm, pulled her forward. Startled and frightened, she opened her mouth and began to scream, struggling to free herself. At the same time she lifted the umbrella and began hitting the intruder over and over again.

‘Stop it! Stop it!’ Geo shouted, instantly letting go of her. ‘It’s me. Geo! Stop hitting me, M.’ As she spoke, she ran across the hall and switched on the light.

Still trembling and visibly upset, M sat down heavily on one of the stairs, gaping at the other woman. ‘My God, what on earth were you thinking about, Geo? Creeping into your own home in the dead of night, frightening me to death. I thought you were an intruder.’

‘I felt a bit distraught … I rushed back home in quite an emotional state.’ A deep sigh escaped her, and she shook her head.

M was baffled. ‘Distraught and emotional? Why? Is something wrong?’

‘I don’t know. You tell me.’

M’s dark brows drew together in a frown. ‘I don’t understand …’ Her voice trailed off and she gave Geo a curious look, genuinely puzzled.

Without saying another word, Geo stepped around M sitting on one of the stairs and flew up to the first floor, rushed into M’s bedroom, glanced around and then came back downstairs, moving more slowly.

Perceptive and bright, M knew at once what this was all about, and she said softly, ‘You thought Dax was here, didn’t you? With me. That’s what this is all about.’

Geo nodded, suddenly looking sheepish. ‘My next-door neighbour, Alice Foley, called me in New Jersey … she’s kept an eye on the house for me for years and often calls me at my sister’s. She saw Dax huddled on the steps earlier this afternoon, and then later noticed the two of you in the garden. He had his arm around you, she said, and was kissing you. I thought you were the other person he was seeing. Because he is involved with someone else. That I know.’

M was silent; she just sat staring at Geo, who was standing in the middle of the hall again. After a moment, M said, ‘He’s certainly not involved with me, and I don’t know whether he’s seeing anyone or not. All I know is that he and I are simply friends – pals. When I got home this afternoon he was on the steps, soaked to the skin and looking really ill. I brought him in, and told him to dry himself off. I did the same, and then I made us hot tea.’

‘But she saw the two of you making out in my garden,’ Geo protested.

‘No, she did not!’ M shot back swiftly, glaring at Geo, suddenly angry. ‘What your neighbour saw was Dax giving me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. There is nothing between us except friendship and, frankly, I rather resent you suggesting otherwise. Anyway, what kind of woman do you think I am? The kind that goes sneaking around, stealing other women’s boyfriends? That’s not my style. I think you should apologize.’

Geo wore a shamefaced expression, and she slowly walked across the hall, pushing back her long blonde hair, shaking her head regretfully. ‘I’m sorry, M, really sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you, shouldn’t have paid attention to Alice. She is a bit of an old busybody, I suppose. But I’ve been perturbed about Dax and our relationship. I think he’s lost interest in me, and I really do care about him.’

‘Apology accepted, Geo. Are you in love with him? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘Yes, I am. And I thought he felt the same. Now I’m not so sure. Has he said anything to you? About me, or us?’

M shook her head, and quickly changing the subject she asked, ‘Did you knock something over when you came into the house? I heard a crash, like metal hitting a hard surface.’

Geo nodded and gestured towards the wrought-iron coat stand. ‘I walked slap-bang into that, and I reckon it woke you up, right?’

‘Yes, it did, and then I heard a fainter sound of something metallic hitting the floor. What was that?’

‘My flashlight.’ Geo began to laugh unexpectedly. ‘I’m an idiot, creeping into my own house like this, walking into the hat stand, dropping a flashlight, and wondering, somewhat worriedly I might add, if I was going to catch you and Dax in a hot clinch in your bed. And wondering how I would handle that.’

M joined in her laughter, and stood up. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’d like a cup of tea, or hot milk, or something like that. What do you fancy?’

‘To be honest, a vodka. How about you?’

‘That sounds great … it’ll help to calm me down.’

Geo glanced at her swiftly, frowning. ‘I really frightened you, didn’t I?’

‘Yes. Absolutely. I knew someone was here in the hall. I was prepared to knock him down and get out into the street.’ She patted the old Louis Vuitton shoulder bag. ‘I stuffed this with a few essentials, like my phone and wallet, as well as the door key, just in case I had to run.’

‘That was smart of you.’ Turning, Geo walked towards the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, ‘Come on, M, let’s have that drink. I think you might need it more than me. You’re as white as a sheet.’

Geo moved around the kitchen swiftly, taking a bottle of vodka out of the freezer, then filling a glass bowl with ice. As she arranged these items on a tray and went back to get a lime out of the refrigerator, her thoughts settled on M for a few moments. She liked her tenant, or ‘paying guest’ as M preferred to call herself, and she was filled with chagrin for having even considered the idea that M might be having a relationship with Dax.

How truly stupid she had been to think such a thing; even more stupid to have crept into her own house at such a late hour, expecting to find them together. She must use much better judgement in the future; certainly she must question Alice Foley more carefully whenever she called her in New Jersey. Her next-door neighbour meant well, but she had jumped to silly conclusions earlier this evening.

Taking two glasses out of the glass-fronted cabinet, Geo stole a surreptitious look at M, who was sitting at the kitchen table, lost in her own meandering thoughts and looking forlorn.

There was no question in Geo’s mind that M had been frightened to death when she had crept downstairs clutching the umbrella. The girl’s face still remained pale – was almost translucent – and apprehension lingered in those dark eyes. Poor kid, Geo thought, she has enough problems without me adding to them, scaring her when she was asleep.

Geo was a smart and intelligent young woman, and at twenty-eight she had lived life to the hilt; she’d seen enough to have certain insights into people. And she had recognized right from the start that M, full name Marie Marsden, had class, came from a good family, and had obviously had a superior upbringing. She had impeccable manners, a cultured, rather beautiful speaking voice, and refinement. Even though her few possessions were well worn, they were of the best quality. On several occasions Geo had seen her carrying different-coloured antique Kelly bags, and the old Louis Vuitton she was using tonight. They were more than likely hand-me-downs from her mother or her older sister, whom she had referred to once. Otherwise Geo knew very little about this reserved, polite young Englishwoman who had breeding and self-confidence – oodles of the latter, in fact. Not to mention looks to die for.

Georgiana Carlson, artist by profession, landlady by necessity, had never met anyone quite like her. There was something mysterious about M and Geo couldn’t help wondering, yet again, what the real story was.

Turning around, picking up the tray, Geo announced, ‘Let’s have our nightcap in the den. It’s much cosier than sitting at the kitchen table, isn’t it?’

M nodded and jumped up. ‘I’ll go ahead and put on the lights.’ Hurrying across the hall and into the den, she switched on the desk lamp, and made space on the coffee table for the tray, then dropped her shoulder bag on a chair.

The two young women sat down opposite each other; lifting the vodka bottle, Geo filled two glasses, put in ice, and added a chunk of lime to the glasses.

‘Thanks,’ M said, and gave her a faint smile as she took the drink from Geo.