The Sex War

'Don't do anything in a hurry,' she said to his back. 'Wait for a few days…'

'Don't tell me something may turn up,' Stephen muttered. 'I can do without the bromides.' He opened the front door. From the kitchen they heard Alice talking to the children in a brisk, no-nonsense voice. Stephen sighed again. 'She's furious with me, and I can't blame her. I should have told her, but I just couldn't face it. I didn't have the guts.'

'She'll forgive you,' Lindsay assured him, hoping she was right.

'We'll have to leave this house, it will have to go,' he said. 'Alice will hate that, she loves this place.'

The kitchen door opened and he stopped talking. Alice ignored him, looking at Lindsay. 'Are you staying for supper?' It was very far from being an invitation and Lindsay hurriedly pretended to smile.

'I'd have loved to,' she lied. 'But I've got a date, I just called in to see how Stephen was.' Alice's face was stony; that remark didn't go down at all well. 'I must rush,' Lindsay added quickly, gave her brother a quick kiss on the cheek and fled. She felt resentful as she made her way back to her own flat. Alice was being very unsympathetic, why was she punishing Stephan when it must be so obvious that he was miserable? Lindsay had been angry with her brother herself, while he was missing, she' had understood then why Alice was so angry, but face to face with Stephen's helpless defeat, how could Alice go on being unkind to him?

When she got home, she stripped and had a cool shower, washing away the city dust and stale perspiration of the day, her thirsty skin drinking in the water through every pore. She towelled her hair lightly, slipped into a short white towelling robe and padded into the kitchen. It was far too hot to eat, she decided, looking into the fridge. She got herself a long, cool drink and went into the sitting-room, flinging herself down on the couch with a sigh.

What was she going to do? If she had ever had any hope that Daniel was lying it had evaporated in the face of Stephen's despair. She couldn't let her brother's firm and home be taken away from him if she could stop it, she owed Stephen too much; he had carried the burden of managing their home for years, he hadn't married until Lindsay herself had married, all his life he had been strong, responsible, hard-working. Now he needed her help—how could she refuse it?

As she sipped her drink the phone rang and she started nervously, almost swallowing a piece of ice. Putting down the glass, she went over to pick up the phone.

'Hallo?' Her voice sounded low and wary, she was afraid it would be Daniel, and she was only too right.

'Thought about it yet?'

A flare of rage went through her. 'I thought you gave me until Thursday to make up my mind?' '

'Just making sure you don't forget about it,' he said mockingly.

'As if I was likely to!'

'You have a genius for forgetting things,' he said, and the words carried a heavy load of sarcasm. There was a pause, then he asked drily: 'No date tonight? Or is Hill there?'

'No, he isn't,' Lindsay snapped, then wished she had lied—Aston made a good cover, but she hated herself for using him as one. Quickly she said: 'But he may come round later.' It was true enough, Aston had said he might call in at the flat some time that evening. He was having dinner with one of his suppliers, if the evening ended early Aston would try to get to see her, but if the other man felt like talking for hours over drinks, Aston wouldn't make it.

'You looked very pretty last night,' Daniel said softly, and she felt a shudder run down her spine. 'That dress suits you, green is your colour, it makes your eyes look brighter.' His voice seemed to stroke her skin, she despised herself for trembling.

'I'm surprised you noticed—you seemed too busy looking into your girl-friend's eyes. How did you pick her up? Don't tell me you've started manufacturing soap?'

'Miaow,' he mocked, laughing, and she was furious with herself for coming on like a jealous woman.

'I met her to talk business,' Daniel said, and Lindsay laughed angrily.

'You don't expect me to believe that? Nobody talks business with a blonde sex kitten over a lengthy dinner.'

'Carolyn used to model for us before she went into acting,' he told her. 'We're trying to persuade her to do some more work.'

'What sort?' Lindsay asked sarcastically. 'And where? The bedroom, by any chance? Auditioning her last night, were you?'

'Careful,' he drawled. 'Your claws are showing, pussycat.'

Lindsay flung the phone down and walked away. The angry exchange had been bitterly familiar, how many times had she heard herself sniping at him like that over some other girl? She had never seemed able to stop herself, the jealousy had sprung up inside her and she had been shaking with it, she had wanted to scream, hit him, slap the other girl. When they were alone the black emotion had come pouring out of her, and only afterwards when she had calmed down had she been able to think clearly. Then she had felt sick, ashamed, shabby, and she had hated herself.

She wrapped her arms around her body, bent over, fighting the stabbing knives of misery that were tearing at her. Her jealousy had ruined her marriage, she had been so uncertain of herself, of Daniel, she hadn't been able to believe he could really love her and she had despised herself. The intensity of her feelings for him left her scared, she was terrified that someone else would take him away from her. She was so ordinary, so young and unsophisticated, how could she hope to hold a man like him? Every time he looked at anyone else, every time another woman looked at him, fear had tormented her. She had told herself that Daniel had only married her because she wouldn't sleep with him, and she had waited for him to wander away to fresh woods and pastures new. She knew the sort of life he had led before they married, he was far too attractive to be content with one woman, she knew he must be bored with her.

It had been so easy to convince herself, their marriage hadn't a hope of success from the start. When she left him, she hated him for the pain she had suffered for months, the pain which refused to die down even after their divorce, but over the past year she had managed to evict him from her mind. It hadn't been easy, some nights she had wallowed in grief only to get up next day and despise herself for giving way to an outworn emotion. Aston had helped, dating him had given her other things to think about. Why had fate brought Daniel Randall back into her life?

She finished her drink and watched a programme on TV to take her mind off Daniel. Aston didn't show up, presumably his supplier had had other plans. At ten o'clock, Lindsay went to bed and lay in the darkness giving herself a stern lecture. She was not going to get involved with Daniel Randall again. He was bad for her, it made her ill to feel jealous, and if she let herself think about him she would st

art being jealous of every girl he saw. She couldn't reach the source of her jealousy with her reason, it didn't respond to logic; it was bitter, obsessive, destructive, and she refused to let it take her over again.

Chris didn't arrive at the office next morning until after eleven. He wandered in, sleek and lithe in his usual jeans and shirt, moving at his normal pace and Lindsay glanced up from a desk covered with, paper. 'Good heavens, don't say you've decided to do some work?'