CHAPTER SEVEN
LISSA!'
The shrill voice of her niece dragged Lissa from sleep. She opened her eyes tiredly to find Louise and Emma both next to her on the bed, still in their dressing gowns. Thin February sunlight streamed in through the windows, Joel's side of the bed empty. Her heart thudded in a mingling fear and delight. She shivered slightly wondering if last night had actually happened or if it had all been a dream, and then she glanced at her watch, stunned to discover that it was gone ten. Why hadn't Joel woken her? Her skin grew warm as she pictured him waking up and watching her sleeping … while she was so vulnerable. It was just as well it was Saturday and that Joel did not have to go over to the factory.
Uncle Joel is making breakfast,' Louise told her importantly. He said we were to let you sleep.'
Yes, I did, didn't I?' Joel agreed wryly, walking in carrying a tray and putting it down on her bedside table. The rich aroma of the freshly made coffee was mouthwatering. He had also made some toast and the tray was set with a crisp white cloth and a small vase with some snowdrops. Lissa touched their pale fragile petals gently with the tip of her finger, tears stinging her eyes as she did so. She bent her head so that Joel wouldn't see them, but he lifted her chin with warm fingers and their eyes met. The warmth and tenderness in his held her. For a moment the earth seemed to tilt on its axis, her heart lurching, knocking against her ribs, and then he bent his head and kissed her lingeringly. A tremendous surge of joy welled up inside her, a happiness so intense that she shook with it. Louise clamoured for attention, Joel released her and the moment of intimacy between them was gone, but Lissa thought she would never forget that even though he might not love her he had cared enough to make that special gesture … to let her know in the cold light of morning that he still remembered the night and that he wanted her to remember it too.
Her mood of light-heartedness lasted all through the day. In the afternoon they took the girls shopping. Louise needed new shoes and of course Emma had to have some too. Once on she refused to be parted from them, and they left the shop amidst smiles from the assistants.
Because Joel had missed so many bedtimes during the week, Lissa organised a family tea, allowing the girls to stay up beyond their normal bedtime. While they were eating Joel talked about his plans to improve the bloodstock carried on one of the estate farms. His suave air of sophistication could be misleading, Lissa reflected, remembering how awe-inspiring she had once found it. At heart he was very much a man who felt passionately about the land and everything connected with it. He was also extremely well read and interested in various aspects of the arts, especially music. All in all a complex, intelligent man with a hidden streak of sensitivity that would always endear him to the female sex. Fear brushed her heart leaving it thumping. Joel would always be attractive to other women. Had he loved her she had little doubt that he would remain faithful, but he didn't. What would happen if he ever met a woman that he did? How he would resent then his commitment to her … She couldn't bear it if that should happen. Stop it … stop it, she warned herself. She was crossing bridges she hadn't yet come to, dealing with problems before they arose.
They bathed the girls together, Louise clinging wetly to Lissa while she dried her, snuggling up to her and whispering, I love you, Lissa, do you love me … ?'
Hugging her back, Lissa reassured her, suddenly aware that Joel was watching her.
What is it?' she asked him, conscious of some slight withdrawal within him, some coolness that threatened her.
Nothing.' He got up, picking Emma up. I'll put this one to bed, shall I?'
What had she done to make him withdraw from her like that? Lissa wondered. Had he perhaps thought looking at her of another woman … one whom he might love as he did not love her?
As they prepared for bed Joel said casually, You know we're going to have to start doing some socialising shortly. People have left us alone knowing about John and Amanda's deaths, but I've had a couple of invitations recently to dinner, drinks, that sort of thing.'
He didn't say any more, but nor did he make any attempt to touch her once they were in bed, and although Lissa tried to reassure herself that there could be any number of reasons for the coolness she sensed within him she was filled with fear, experiencing for the first time in her life the full vulnerability that comes with love.
On Monday morning Mrs Fuller arrived, and it was soon quite obvious that the girls were going to take to her. Lissa was in Joel's study going through the post for him when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver automatically, not recognising the cool feminine voice on the other end of the line, explaining that Joel was out.
Oh, I see. You must be John's sister-in-law then, Lisa … '
Lissa,' Lissa corrected, feeling an inexplicable tug of antagonism towards the unknown caller. And actually I'm now Joel's wife.'
Oh yes, of course, I'd forgotten he'd got married.' The excuse was smoothly bland, but Lissa was not deceived. Her caller had known all right and apprehension started to trickle down her spine. Joel is an old friend of my husband's,' the other woman continued. I was ringing to invite him round for dinner, but of course both of you must come. We normally get together once a month or so, but obviously because of the tragedy … '
They eventually fixed a date, Lissa's caller introducing herself as Marisa Andrews before she rang off.
Lissa knew little of Joel's friends apart from odd remarks he had made, and although common sense told her it was ridiculous to feel that the other woman had deliberately set out to unnerve her, she still retained a distinct feeling that she had.
When Joel returned she told him about the phone call. He turned to look at the post, his back to her as he said, Marisa and Peter are old friends of mine. Peter and I were at university together. I was actually dating Marisa at the time and I introduced her to Peter.'
He didn't say anything else, but Lissa was conscious of an icy ache of depression that stayed with her all evening. When they eventually went to bed she deliberately turned her back to Joel, keeping well to her own side of the mattress. She thought she felt him touch her hair but she refused to turn round, and eventually the mattress shift as he turned out his lamp. It was hours before she managed to fall asleep her mind churning sickly. Perhaps she was making a mountain out of a molehill … after all just because Joel had once dated this Marisa, it didn't mean she was the love of his life. Try to keep a sense of proportion, she told herself, but the fear would not go away and neither would the feeling that Joel had cooled towards her. He was still pleasant, but there was no warmth, no hint of teasing intimacy in the occasional duty kisses he gave her when he went out, and by Friday, Lissa was dreading the coming ordeal of Saturday's dinner party.
On impulse on Friday afternoon she asked Mrs Fuller if she would keep an eye on the girls, explaining that she wanted to buy a new dress. The housekeeper had already promised to look after them on the Saturday evening and Lissa had no qualms about leaving her with them. They enjoyed her company as much as she enjoyed theirs.
She had already been through her wardrobe and had found nothing there that would give her the confidence she felt she so badly needed, and so she decided she would go up to London. She arrived just after two and headed straight for Knightsbridge, determined to find herself a dress that would show the as yet unknown Marisa Andrews that she was no insignificant dreary little mouse. Joel had left the house that morning after breakfast saying that he had some business to conduct and not to expect him back until early evening. He hadn't said exactly where he was going and Lissa had found his unusual reticence chilling.
Trying to concentrate on the task in hand she hurried into Harvey Nicholls. Two hours later she emerged feeling light-headed with success and slightly guilty over the amount of money she had spent.
Her dress was very plain, long sleeved and high necked in fine wool crepe, fitting snugly over her waist and hips and then flaring out into a slightly bias cut skirt, but the simplicity of the design was more than compensated for in the rich dense blue colour of the fabric. It was a dress cut by a master hand for a woman who enjoyed being a woman and in it Lissa felt confidently sure of her femininity and appeal.
She had been lucky enough to get shoes to go with it, black suede with blue heels and satin ribbons, a touch of frivolity to offset the plainness of the dress.
She had just emerged into the street when she felt someone touch her shoulder. Swinging round, she saw Simon Greaves.
Good heavens … what a coincidence!'