Crescendo

'I'm going to bed,' she said coldly, and stood up.

'Goodnight,' Gideon returned with a taunting little smile.

She eyed him with a deep desire to hit him, her hands taut at her

sides. He grinned as he took in the expression on her face and the long body uncoiled. He stood up and she almost ran to the door, hearing him laughing behind her as she banged out of the room.

She bolted her bedroom door, but there was no need; Gideon did not follow her. Undressing again, she slipped into the bed. The dolls sat in their ac­customed places and she stared at them, and now they were just dolls. She had been a late developer; a child when she met Gideon, a child when he seduced her, a child when she carried his child in­side her body.

No wonder she had fled back to her safe, halcyon existence when the problems of adulthood grew too great. She had been too young both in age and in attitude to cope with Gideon. He must have known that.

Grandie had kept her in this house like a doll in a glass case—like Snow White in her perfect sleep, cherished and petted and eternally a child. Grandie had loved her, but he had been forcing her to accept the role he planned for her, forcing his own ambi­tions on her from her earliest years, shaping her, forming her in his own image. Although she loved music and was happy to work hard at it, she had al­ways lacked Grandie's drive to the peak of achieve­ment. She had accepted the role forced on her at such an early age, but she had never really desired it. She had loved her quiet backwater at Basslea. She had loved her music. But the world into which Grandie had planned to force her had never been the world she wanted.

It was something she had slowly come to recog­nise at college. She had ability—she did not doubt that. She could work and learn. But she did not have the real drive which carried men like Gideon up­ward. She was not in his class.

He had said that to her and she had blithely taken it to mean that she was his superior, but all the time Gideon had meant the opposite.

Now she faced that and knew Gideon was right. For all the hard gloss he had once used to cover his lack of inner feeling, Gideon was still one of the most brilliant pianists of his age, and since he had gained a new ability to interpret the music with passion and understanding, no doubt he would climb even higher. She had seen the beginning of that climb during their marriage.

Slowly she fell asleep, and in the morning she picked up Meg and Emma and smiled at them be­fore she put them away on the top shelf of her ward­robe. One day some other little girl would play with them. It would not be her. They had been her com- panions in a lonely world which she no longer in­habited.

Dressed in blue jeans and a brief blue T-shirt, she went down and found Gideon cooking tomatoes and bacon. He glanced sideways at her and she met his eyes with a cool and level stare.

'Why haven't you gone?' she demanded.

'Breakfast is ready,' he said as if she hadn't spoken. Marina saw that that was how he meant to play it, ignoring her requests for him to go, imper­vious to her hostility and anger.

'I meant what I said. Our marriage is over.'

'It hasn't even started. Pour the coffee.'

'Where's Grandie now?' Although she asked the' question irritably she was pouring coffee and sitting down. Sunshine streamed into the room and Ruffy sniffed hungrily, his tail wagging as he contemplated the prospect of delicious bacon rinds in a minute.

'You wait for it,' Gideon told him, placing the plate in front of her. Seating himself opposite, he eyed his own breakfast hungrily. 'I'm ravenous—I don't know about you.' He glanced up. 'Grandie has walked down to the village.'

Marina looked back at him in surprise. 'Gone to the village?'

'Why shouldn't he?' Gideon bent over his plate and ate with obvious enjoyment. His shirt lay open at the collar, revealing the strong line of his brown throat and the first scattering of dark hairs on the deep chest. A wave of black hair fell along his cheek and she had to fight down an impulse to push it back into place. She dared not touch him.

Grandie went to the village every day, of course, to shop and chat to people, but it surprised her that he should go out this morning, leaving her alone with Gideon again. Grandie admired success. Gideon had been one of his most successful pupils and he had been proud of him.

Looking up, Gideon caught her eye and said mockingly, 'Close your mouth. Are you catching flies? Eat your breakfast—it's delicious. I'm becom­ing a very good cook.' He knew very well why she was looking so taken aback and it amused him. The gleam in the black eyes made her so angry she stiff­ened and snapped forcefully:

'Why don't you go where you're wanted? I don't want you here.'

'Too bad,' he shrugged, and bent over his meal again.

After a furious pause Marina ate her own break­fast and found that this morning the smell of food did not make her nauseated. She was hungry and she finished the meal without another word. Gideon cut up the bacon rinds and fed them to Ruffy, who wagged his tail as he watched. Gideon scratched his head and Marina watched the long fingers moving seductively on the dog's white coat with a dryness in her throat.

Gideon looked up and she felt her face burn. Hur­riedly she turned away and began to clear the table.

If she stayed here with him always around she was going to be fighting a losing battle—she faced that angrily. Gideon moved beside her, out of the line of her vision, and her blood responded to every beat of his heart, every breath he took.

She made herself continue doing the washing up although she was aware of everything he did, every move he made. When she had finally finished she turned to walk to the door and Gideon stepped in front of her; not touching her, just hairing her way, smiling down at her with those straight black brows lifting in mocking amusement.

'Get out of my way,' she said hoarsely.

'Make me.' He said that with enjoyment, his eyes alight.