Escape from Desire

‘Something wrong?’

She tore her eyes away from the sensuously full curve of his lower lip, her heart racing like a trip hammer.

‘N-nothing.’

‘Good. Now, watch this.’ He gave her a brief demonstration of how to work the processor. ‘It’s very similar to a normal electric keyboard really, but this way we save time in the long run, because the processor can store everything you type and then when we want to alter something we can call it back and simply change whatever is necessary.’

‘And then the machine produces a perfectly typed altered copy,’ Tamara concluded.

‘You have had some experience of them, then?’

‘Yes, we have one at the office.’

‘Good,’ Zach said crisply. ‘That means we won’t have to waste time on you getting used to it. What I propose is that I dictate to you in the morning, and then leave you free to type in the afternoons. I’ll then check what you’ve done and if any alterations are necessary we’ll do them that evening. When is Mellors due back from New York?’ he added abruptly.

Tamara hadn’t the faintest idea, and lied vaguely, ‘I’m really not sure. It all depends on how fast he can complete his business.’

‘Does he know about your condition yet?’

Tamara lifted her chin.

‘Don’t you think that’s our business?’ she asked sweetly. ‘I’m here to work for you—that doesn’t entitle you to ask questions about my personal life.’

‘It does entitle me to ensure that I get value for money,’ Zach countered cruelly. ‘I don’t want you mooning all over the place because you’re missing your lover. It’s counter-productive.’

‘So what are you suggesting?’ Tamara stormed back, completely forgetting the danger. ‘That you take his place? You couldn’t.’

‘You’re right,’ Zach agreed curtly. ‘I wouldn’t have the stomach for it.’

It was only the shrill ring of the telephone that prevented Tamara from announcing there and then that she was leaving.

Zach picked up the receiver, his hard face relaxing into an amused smile as he listened.

‘I’ve missed you too, Julie,’ Tamara heard him say. She made to leave, but he waved her into a chair, his eyes on her face, his smile deepening as he listened intently to whoever was on the other end of the line.

‘No, I’m sorry, I can’t possibly come up to London at the moment. Look, why don’t you come down here?’

Tamara heard him laugh, and then he turned away from her and out of politeness she stared stolidly through the window, deliberately blotting out the sound of his voice, all the time wondering who this Julie was who could make him smile so easily.

‘Sorry about that,’ he apologised insincerely, when he had replaced the receiver. ‘An old friend. She’s coming down to spend a few days with me. Now where was I? Ah, yes, the word processor … Well, if you think you feel confident about using it I suggest you go and rest before dinner.’ A sneer curled his mouth. ‘In your condition you can’t afford to overdo things, can you?’

In the end Tamara pleaded tiredness and sent a message with Johnson excusing herself from dinner. To her surprise Mrs Wilkes arrived with a tempting tray half an hour later, her forehead creased with concern.

‘The Colonel says you’re not feeling too well. All that driving from London, I expect, takes it out of you. I’ve brought you a nice omelette and a pot of tea.’

Tamara thanked her, her guilt increasing when she thought of the extra work her cowardice had caused. It was true that the drive down had been tiring. It was a long time since she had driven so far and her small Mini was not built for long journeys. She would have to change it once the baby arrived. She fell into a daydream about the baby, her omelette growing cold on the plate.

* * *

Zach had not specified what time he wanted her to start work in the morning, but Tamara was down-stairs at eight, estimating that this would give her time to have her breakfast and present herself in the library for nine.

Mrs Wilkes looked shocked when she insisted that all she wanted was toast and coffee.

‘Bad as the Colonel,’ she grumbled. ‘Although at least he had some scrambled eggs.’

‘The Colonel’s had his breakfast, then, has he?’ Tamara questioned, feeling both relief and dismay. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot on her first day. Despite her personal feelings towards Zach, she was determined to remain as professional towards him as she could, and she prided herself on her efficiency as a secretary.

‘Oh yes,’ Mrs Wilkes confirmed. ‘Always has his breakfast at six-thirty, does the Colonel. Habit he got into in the Army, apparently. Johnson makes it for him. By the way,’ she added, ‘he asked me to tell you to go along to the library when you’re ready. Always goes for a walk about breakfast, he does, rain or shine, but he’ll be back by now.’