Infatuation

'Thank you, but…'

'Monday any better?' he broke in before she had finished the sentence, and Judith hesitated, meeting those cool grey eyes and realising suddenly that Baba hadn't pushed him into this. Luke Doulton wasn't the type of guy who could be pushed into anything, he was serious about interviewing her for his own reasons, which had nothing whatever to do with Baba.

'Yes, that would be fine,' she said slowly, thinking hard. She wasn't sure she was going to be very happy about his motives for being interested in her, but at least it would not be humiliating to accept the lunch invitation now that she knew he was offering it for his own reasons and not because Baba was twisting his arm. It couldn't do any harm to find out what was behind his interest; having lunch didn't commit her to anything.

'Eight o'clock tonight at the Savoy, remember.' said Baba, smiling delightedly. From her expression it was clear that she was under the i

llusion that she was totally responsible for the lunch invitation. Judith smiled back, allowing her to go on thinking so.

'Thanks, Baba.' She might have been livid about Baba's blatant manoeuvring, but she knew Baba meant well; and anyway it was quite impossible to go on being angry with Baba about anything, especially when she glowed with such obvious delight in her own cleverness, 'I'll see you tonight,' said Baba as she and Luke walked away, but just as Judith was closing the front door she hurried back to whisper softly: 'Don't mention the film to Luke, promise?'

Judith looked at her in surprise. She had forgotten all about the possibility that Baba would be making a film. 'Okay,' she said, wondering why Baba was keeping it a secret from her fiancé.

'I forgot—you haven't seen the ring,' said Baba far more loudly and obviously intending Luke to hear that part of their conversation. 'What do you think?' She held out her hand and Judith gasped at the size and beauty of the emerald, a square-cut stone surrounded by small diamonds, in a delicate gold setting. 'Fantastic—it's beautiful!'

Baba whispered: 'I'm keeping the film a secret until it's certain, you see.' She looked into Judith's eyes appealingly. 'Thank you,' she said in that louder voice, 'See you tonight, then!'

Going back to her painting, Judith managed to stop herself from dwelling on Luke Doulton's invitation; she had the sort of mind which can keep a tight rein over its own activities, which possibly explained why she had been so successful in banking. Her only real drawbacks, as far as her career went, were her sense of humour and her independence, neither of which met with much appreciation from the men she worked with. Judith had learnt to hide her rebellious streak behind a bland exterior. Any mockery she felt was concealed in public; business men were often the very last people able to laugh at themselves and they hated to feel they were being laughed at, particularly by a woman.

That evening she flicked wryly through her wardrobe, looking for something suitable to wear at the party. She chose a dark red dress with a Victorian, demurely romantic style; full sleeves ending in a layered frill at the wrist and a low neckline partly filled with foamy white lace, the skirts full and flounced. It was a dress she had bought in New York at a small boutique on Fifth Avenue; the next time she went back there the shop had vanished and there was a druggist there—but that was New York for you, she hadn't been surprised.

She had a leisurely bath and was getting dressed when the phone went. 'It's Ruth,' Mrs Murry called up the stairs a few moments later. 'She says do you want a lift?'

'I'd love one,' said Judith. 'Then I can get drunk if I like…'

'I hope you're joking,' Mrs Murry said with disapproval before vanishing to relay her reply to Ruth.

Judith spent some time doing her face and hair; no amount of effort was going to make her look like Baba, but she wasn't displeased with the end result in the mirror. Her hair fell, sleek and smooth, to her shoulders, curling inwards slightly against her cheek. Her dark eyes had more lustre than usual with a warm brown shadow on the lids, and she had carefully given her face more colour, blusher on her cheekbones and a glossy red brushed on to her lips.

She was relieved to be going with Ruth and David; it would have been ghastly going in to the party on her own. As she heard the doorbell downstairs she gave herself another last long stare, then moved to leave the room, her skirts rustling. Ruth was talking to Mrs Murry in the hall, and they both turned to look up at Judith as she joined them.

'You look wonderful,' Ruth said quickly; too quickly, Judith thought, as she returned the smile. Ruth was very kind, but Judith's more realistic appraisal of herself was not altered by the compliment. When she was in her teens she had often looked into mirrors with despair, wishing there was some magic which would change her from a gangling, skinny adolescent into a beautiful woman. She had grown up knowing she would never be beautiful; with time and effort she could look interesting, even quite attractive, and that was all. Whenever someone paid her a compliment she put it under the microscope of her own intelligence and then dismissed it; she might never be beautiful, but she did not intend to be stupid, or to let anyone make a fool of her.

'Lucky for Baba that you're safely married, or Luke Doulton might fall for you,' she told Ruth teasingly, and Ruth laughed, looking down at her pretty yellow dress with open satisfaction. She still had that cuddly, warmhearted appeal which had made boys flock around her before she married; the yellow dress suited her perfectly.

When they got into the car David turned in the driving seat and grinned at Judith. 'Will you look at me? You've made me dress up as a penguin, why is it that women can't enjoy themselves unless they've made men thoroughly uncomfortable?' 'You look very handsome,' Judith assured him. 'May God forgive you!'

'You do! All the girls are going to fall in love with you on first sight.'

'Watch your tongue,' Ruth told her, and David laughed, switching on the engine.

'Now she's worried. I may have a fantastic evening, if I can compete with the wonderful Luke Doulton, that is—some chance! I don't happen to have a billion pounds in my bank balance. Isn't it amazing what an aphrodisiac money is?'

'Don't be so cynical. He's a very good-looking guy too,' Ruth said.

David made a noise and Ruth poked him, leaning forward. 'He is, you can't deny it—isn't he, Judith?'

'He's not bad,' Judith admitted reluctantly, and got a very reproachful look from Ruth.

'How can you be so half-hearted? Baba said all the other models are jealous of her, and not because of his money. They fancy him, she said.'

'Come on, darling, if he was four foot three and as bald as an egg he would still have women chasing him for his money. I'll admit he's a pleasant enough man, he was very friendly when he came to see us. I've got nothing personal against him, but don't expect me to rave about him, because I refuse.' David sounded irritable, and Judith wondered if he was sick of having his wife talk about Luke. No doubt little else had engaged her attention since Baba told her she was engaged to him. David had always been a quiet, faintly wry man who tended to watch what went on rather than join in; he was rather attractive himself, so he had no real reason for being jealous of Luke Doulton. In his evening suit he was very distinguished; he had a slim, lithe figure.

'I hate big parties,' he said defensively as his car headed for the Strand. It was thick with traffic at this hour of the evening; many people were still making their way to theatres. Judith looked down the wide road and saw the neon flash of theatre signs and fast food take-aways, the nose-to-tail cars slowly inching their way towards Aldwych. 'I'll try and park down on the Embankment,' David thought aloud. 'Shall I drop you two at the Savoy and then go off and find a parking space? I can join you later.'

'That would be best; I wouldn't be able to walk far in these shoes,' Ruth admitted. She was wearing delicate silver sandals with perilously high heels.

David turned into the Savoy forecourt; above them Judith saw the elegant silver facade of the hotel, like a giant Rolls-Royce. The commissionaire opened the door and she and Ruth slid out, a slight wind catching Judith's dress and ruffling it.