The Sex War

CHAPTER ONE

Lindsay was in the shower when the phone rang, and she was half inclined to ignore the ringing, but it might be Aston to say he couldn't make their date, so with a sigh she stepped out of the shower cubicle, pulled on her short white towelling robe and ran down the corridor to the sitting-room, leaving wet footprints on the carpet everywhere she trod. Snatching up the phone, she said breathlessly: 'Hallo?'

'Lindsay, it's Alice.'

'Oh, hallo,' said Lindsay, feeling water trickling down her spine from the wet tail of red hair clinging to her nape. 'I was in the shower and I'm very wet, Alice, is it urgent?' 'I'm sorry, I didn't… I just wanted…' Her sister-in-law sounded incoherent, which was unusual for Alice; a placid, quiet girl whose only interests seemed to be her home and family. Alice's brown eyes and hair both had a red-russet tinge which, coupled with her demure manner, always reminded Lindsay of a squirrel watching everything from a safe distance but with bright-eyed interest.

'Is anything wrong?' Lindsay asked, clutching the lapels of her robe.

Alice seemed to hesitate, then she asked unsteadily: 'Is… is Stephen with you?'

'Stephen? No, he isn't here. Is he coming to see me?' Lindsay turned her head to look at the clock on the mantelpiece. Aston would be here in half an hour. They were going to the theatre and she didn't want to be held up.

Without answering her question, Alice asked another of her own, her voice even more shaky. 'Have you seen him since yesterday?'

'No.' Frowning, Lindsay wondered what this was all about, but before she could ask Alice audibly sighed.

'He hasn't rung you, you haven't heard from him?'

'No, I haven't.' The urgent note in Alice's voice seemed very disturbing, Lindsay gripped the phone tighter. 'Is something wrong, Alice?'

'If he's talked to you, tell me, Lindsay, don't lie to me, please!'

'Why on earth should I lie to you? I haven't heard from Stephen for a week or so, he rang me in the middle of last week and asked when I was coming over. I said I'd try to come and see you all soon.' Lindsay had never interfered in her brother's life, nor would she have allowed him to interfere in her own, but she was very fond of Stephen and something in Alice's voice worried her. 'Have you and Stephen had a row?' she ended uncertainly.

'He's disappeared,' said Alice on what sounded like a sob.

'Disappeared?' Lindsay felt a dart of shock. 'What do you mean, he's disappeared? Since when?'

'He didn't come home from work last night, and he hasn't been at the, factory at all today, nobody seems to know where he is.' Alice stopped, swallowing audibly. 'Lindsay, I'm so worried, I don't know what to do, I'm going out of my mind!'

Lindsay stared absently at the wallpaper a few feet away from her, her eye following the curve of a green branch from which tiny pale pink rosebuds broke. She didn't quite know what to ask, how to respond. Alice's news had come as too much of a shock. Stephen had seemed quite normal when he talked to her last week. He hadn't said anything which might alert her to any change in his usual behaviour. Stephen was the last person she would have expected to disappear without warning; he was an even-tempered, cheerful man whose life seemed very much under control.

'Have you rung the police?' she asked at last, falling back on the purely practical.

'No, not yet. I wasn't sure if… should I? He's only been gone for twenty-four hours, there could be a perfectly rational explanation, he might have left a message that didn't get passed on. If he turns up he'll be so embarrassed, he'll be furious with me for getting into such a state, and I'll feel a fool if I've made a fuss over nothing.'

'Is he in his car?'

'Well, yes, he went off in it yesterday morning, anyway.' Alice drew a sharp breath. 'Do you think he might have had an accident?'

'Could be,' said Lindsay. Failing any other explanation that would have been the first thing that Came into her head. 'Did he have anything on him to identify him? If he did have an accident, that is…'

'I don't know, I suppose so, he usually has his credit cards and driver's licence in his wallet.' Alice sounded as though she just wasn't thinking clearly, which was hardly surprising in the circumstances. 'And it's hours now since he left the factory yesterday. It isn't like Stephen, he always comes straight home.'

'He could have gone off on urgent business and forgotten to let you know,' Lindsay pointed out gently.

'It isn't like him.' Alice sounded as though she was on the point of tears and Lindsay had a strong suspicion that there was a great deal which her sister-in-law wasn't saying, but as she couldn't see her face she could only guess at that.

'I was in the shower, it will take me ten minutes to get dressed,' she said firmly. 'I'll be with you inside an hour, then we'll decide what to do.'

'Oh, thank you, Lindsay.' Alice's voice trembled, was husky. Lindsay had said the right thing, Alice's call had not been so much a check on whether Stephen had been in touch with her as a wordless ay for help. Alice couldn't cope with whatever was wrong between her and Stephen, and that didn't surprise Lindsay. She' had always guessed that all the strength in that marriage came from Stephen, her brother had always been someone you could rely on, and Alice had leaned heavily on him from the start. Whenever you saw them together, Alice kept close to him, listened while he talked, had very little to say for herself, left all the decisions to hi

m. If Alice was a secretive little squirrel, Stephen was a broad oak in which she sheltered.

Lindsay rang off and went back into the bathroom. She dried her hair roughly, got dressed in a formal white silk blouse and tight-waisted, pleated black skirt, then blow-dried her hair into the style she liked best, the red-gold strands gleaming loosely around her face, in a casual light wave. She had just finished doing her make-up when the door bell rang. She knew it was Aston, he always gave three short rings. He was early, which was just as well, she wouldn't have to leave a note pinned to the front door for him.

'Hallo, gorgeous,' he said as she opened the door, and held out an enormous bunch of flowers; roses, carnations, freesias, their scent masked by the polythene envelope holding them.

'They're beautiful—thank you,' said Lindsay, smiling, as she accepted the flowers. 'Come in, I'll put them in water before they wither.' She walked back into the kitchen and Aston followed her, closing the front door behind him. Her flat was on the second floor of a large block of service flats in central London. The rooms were tiny, just big enough to swing a cat, but they were modern and comfortable and she was within easy walking distance of the West End.

She filled a large, green-glazed pottery jar with water and unwrapped the flowers, while Aston leaned against the wall watching her. Over her shoulder, Lindsay said apologetically: 'I'm sorry, Aston, I'm going to have to break Our date tonight. Something's come up—family troubles.

'I've got to go over to see my sister-in-law, she just rang me and asked me to come at once. I'd have tried to get in touch with you, but…'

'What's wrong?' Aston asked, frowning. He wasn't exactly a good-looking man; but his rugged face had strength and humour and a very distinct personality. His hair was a goldy brown, the colour of a new penny, coppery bronze, and his eyes were hazel and smiled a great deal. For a very big man, over six foot and built on muscular lines, he walked lightly and moved with grace, but there had been nothing subtle about his interest in her. He had begun to pursue her from the minute they met, bombarding her with phone calls and dropping in at her flat without warning all the time. Lindsay had begun by giving him the cold shoulder; she had been in no mood to encourage any man when she met Aston and when her icily polite refusals did not have any effect she had been forced to tell him bluntly that she wasn't interested, so goodbye. It hadn't made any difference that she had noticed. Aston had kept on turning up, amusement in his face, as though Lindsay's snappy rejections merely made him laugh. His water-dropping-on-a-stone technique was irresistible. Lindsay started to laugh, too, in the end, and found herself saying: yes, instead of: no way!