Infatuation

She had waited years to fall in love and then done so with the wrong man. It seemed so unfair.

She was up very early next day to drive to Lambourne. On a fine Sunday morning in early summer the Kent countryside had a clarity and tenderness which made driving through it a permanent delight. Judith had trouble concentrating on the road ahead, she kept looking sideways at the landscape, her eyes dreamy. Love was undermining her, she thought impatiently; she felt her foundations crumbling. Six months ago she would have looked at the scenery, thought 'Hmm, pretty', then turned her attention back to what really mattered, whether the old blue van in front of her was really intending to move to the right at any second or whether the driver had forgotten to switch off his right side light which had been blinking for several miles now. You merely ran into trouble if, instead of giving your attention to the road ahead, you kept gazing romantically at the alluring prospects on either side, and that applied to life as well as to driving a car.

When she finally turned into the long drive and parked outside the house she found another car parked there. She walked to the front door, wondering if there were to be other guests for lunch. Mrs Doulton hadn't told her she was inviting anyone else, and Judith couldn't help feeling rather disappointed. She had been looking forward to talking about Luke to his mother, there were a thousand questions she wanted to ask about him, but she would have to be subtle about it, she couldn't just at down like a reporter and fire off personal questions. His mother would wonder what on earth was going on! Judith had meant to angle their conversation with the hope of eliciting the answers she wanted without Mrs Doulton realising that she was being interrogated.

The front door opened abruptly, but it wasn't Fanny facing her, it was a small girl in a red swimsuit. Judith stared down at the round, clear-skinned face and long straight brown hair, and the child's hazel eyes stared back at her.

'Hallo,' Judith said uncertainly. 'I'm Judith.'

'Hallo, I know who you are. You're to go up to Grandma's bedroom, they left me here to wait for you 'cos Fanny's in the garden picking mint, but she'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail' The little girl used the phrase unconsciously, but Judith could hear Fanny's grumpy voice behind it. 'We're swimming, they said I could come when you got here.' She grinned suddenly, showing small, irregular teeth. 'I can dive, can you dive? It's easy.' There was a light scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her grin was mischievous. 'I'm going to creep up behind Daddy and push him in; that's what the boys do at school.'

'Make sure he's wearing his swimsuit first,' Judith told her, and the child laughed. She must be one of Angela's children; Pauline had said she only had one son, so the little girl could not belong to her. Judith liked Angela, she would enjoy meeting her again, but Pauline was far too sharp and critical; she had a censorious eye.

'See you,' the little girl said, disappearing at a run. Judith went into the house, her fingers crossed behind her back as she went up the stairs. Please, don't let Pauline be here, she pleaded with fate; that would ruin the day.

She tapped on Mrs Doulton's door and heard her call: 'Come in!'

'Hallo,' said Judith, smiling across the room, and Mrs Doulton held out a hand. Judith went over to the bed and sat down.

'It's nice of you to give up one of your precious days off to me,' Mrs Doulton said, smiling at her.

'It's such a lovely day, I can't think of a nicer way of spending it,' Judith told her, and Mrs Doulton patted her hand.

'You're looking tired, have you been working too hard?'

'I've got a lot to learn in a very short time—this job is a million light years from the work I've been doing, there's so much more to it.'

'All the same, you mustn't push yourself too hard, it doesn't pay in the long run. My husband always said that if you work so hard that you're too tired to unwind after leaving the office you're heading for trouble.' Mrs Doulton leaned back, her eyes serious. 'I hope Luke isn't difficult to work for.'

'He's impossible to work for,' Judith said lightly, laughing, then shook her head. 'No, I think I already see the light at the end of the road, and Luke isn't a hard boss, he takes a lot of trouble to explain things clearly. I'm fascinated by the job.' She tried to keep her tone light, she hoped her smile looked natural—she remembered all too vividly that Mrs Doulton was not easily taken in by forced smiles. She had immediately seen through Caroline Rendell's smiles; Judith hoped her own eyes were not as betraying as Caroline's had been.

Hurriedly Judith changed the subject. 'Who was the little girl who opened the door?'

'Stephanie, my daughter Angela's eldest—she's been keeping me company.'

'She's about six, is she?'

Mrs Doulton nodded. 'Angela has a three-year-old, too: Benny. They're all down at the pool, I should have told you to bring a swimsuit. I'm sorry, I forgot; I think Angela has a spare if you'd like to…'

'Oh, no, it doesn't matter, I'd rather sit and talk to you. I wanted to ask you how Doulton-Klein International came into being—that was your husband's doing, I suppose? He set it up, didn't he?'

'In 1946,' Mrs Doulton said, her eyes moving to the window. The blue sky had that impossible radiance that an English summer has for far too brief a time; Mrs Doulton seemed to be watching the far distance, her eyes wide and nostalgic. She was looking back into the past. She talked about her husband, about the early days of their marriage, and Judith listened intently, realising that Mrs Doulton had almost forgotten she was there, she had no need to say anything beca

use the older woman was half talking to herself, remembering aloud what she no doubt often remembered in silence.

Judith couldn't hear enough about Luke's background, hearing about his father and the rise of the organisation helped her to understand him better. Nobody springs from a void; everyone comes from somewhere and their past, their childhood and family, can explain their present, if you have the right clues. Judith felt a hungry curiosity about Luke, no detail was too small for her, she was busily filing it all away while she listened.

'He never told me how ill he was,' Mrs Doulton said some time later. 'When he died so suddenly the shock almost killed me. Luke was still so young, he had been working his way through the firm, learning all he could, but some of the board thought he wasn't ready to take over his father's position. There was a lot of backstairs intrigue and in-fighting; it was all very nasty, and I think it toughened Luke to have to face that out of the blue. Once I was sure he was past the worst, that he was safely in control, I bought this house and came over to England. I thought it would be best; I was part of the past, Luke had to forge his own weapons. Of course he asked my advice and I was always ready to discuss the firm and advise him if I could, but he had to do it on his own in the last resort. It seemed best for him to start off the way he would have to go on…' She looked at Judith wryly. 'It wasn't easy to step out of the picture. I'd spent most of my married life talking the business over with his father. I enjoyed being part of it all. But you have to know when to let go, and Luke had to be free.' 'He still values your advice, he told me so,' Judith told her gently.

Mrs Doulton laughed. 'I hope he goes, but I'm still very careful to wait to be asked for it. There's nothing worse than a mother who won't let go of her children; it must make it very hard for them to grow up.'

Fanny came into the room with some coffee and Judith solemnly said: 'Good morning, Fanny.'

'Morning,' said Fanny, handing her a cup of coffee. She looked at Mrs Doulton measuringly. 'You look tired, you should have a nap before lunch.' Her grim eyes went back to Judith. 'She has to rest for at least an hour morning and afternoon, you'd better take a walk in the garden when you've finished your coffee.'

When she had gone Mrs Doulton said ruefully: 'She's worked for me since I first got married, she's eight years older than I am and she never forgets it, I don't honestly know what I'd do if I lost Fanny, she's as much part of my life as Luke.' She smiled at Judith. 'Don't let her manner offend you; she doesn't mean to be rude.’

'I can see she's very fond of you, she's only trying to protect you.’ Judith reassured her. 'She doesn't offend me.