Betrayed. Part 5

'Find anything interesting?'

The deep, attractive voice was unmistakable, and Olivia's head flew round to complete the identification. Matthew had apparently been waiting outside the shop all the time, and his un.o.btrusive enquiry was delivered in a low, unaggressive tone.

Olivia sighed. 'No,' she said, having no choice but to allow him to fall into step beside her. 'They didn't have another exit.'

Matthew absorbed this silently for a few minutes, and then, when they paused at the intersection with Cannon Street, he said, 'OK. You've made your point. You didn't really want to come with me, and you're not interested in my invitation to lunch.

So"what do you want to do? Go off on your own?'

Olivia pressed her lips together. Matthew was looking tired now, and once again sympathy for him almost overwhelmed her.

She badly wanted to tell him that she'd like nothing better than to have lunch with him, but common sense prevailed, and she forced herself to nod.

'That"sounds good to me,' she said, glancing up at him and away. 'We"er"we could meet back at the car park, at say"half-past twelve. What do you think? Will that give you plenty of time to do what you have to do?'

'Ample,' he conceded flatly, and then another voice spoke his name.

'Matt! Matthew,' exclaimed a young attractive brunette, with a pushchair in tow, stopping right in front of them, I thought it was you. It's been ages since we've seen you. Where have you been hiding yourself? Why don't you ever accept my invitations?'

'Oh"h.e.l.lo, Julie.' Olivia thought Matthew was less than enthusiastic about the unexpected intervention. 'How are you?

How's David?'

'We're fine.' Julie gave him a warm smile, and then turned to give Olivia a speculative look. 'I know you, don't I? You're one of the Stoner girls, aren't you?' she added, rather patronisingly. I a.s.sume you must be the one who didn't go to America.'

'No, I----'

'Olivia is home from the States for her grandmother's funeral,'

broke in Matthew, running his hand through the thick dark hair at his nape. 'Liv,' his eyes were wary, 'you remember Julie Redding, don't you? She used to come to Rycroft to play tennis.

Her mother and mine went to school together.'

It's Julie Moreton now,' the brunette declared, regarding Olivia with undisguised curiosity. Her eyes flickered from her to Matthew, and back again, before she continued, 'Oh, yes. You two used to know each other"quite well, didn't you. Before Matthew married Helen, of course.'

Her implication was plain, and, in spite of all the reasons why she shouldn't care, Olivia found she did. The implication was that Matthew had only been marking time with her until he and Helen could tie the knot. Any serious relations.h.i.+p between them had never been on the cards.

'Matt and I are"old friends,' Olivia declared now, and the way she said it left Julie in no doubt as to the veracity of that statement. She gave the woman a determinedly pleasant smile.

'Unfortunately, I had to go away to work, but I'm hoping to renew our acquaintance.'

She ignored Matthew's shocked reaction, ignored the fact that she was treading into water far deeper than any she had plumbed this far. The desire to wipe the smug smile from Julie Moreton's face had taken precedence, and judging by the other woman's expression she was succeeding.

'Well,' said Julie tightly, 'how interesting. Funerals do bring together the most unlikely people.'

'Don't they?'

How Olivia stopped herself from saying something completely outrageous, she never knew, but Julie evidently saw the danger, and drew back. 'So, Matt,' she said, addressing herself to him exclusively, 'it's been lovely to see you again. I'll be sure and tell David all about it. It's just a pity you're not alone.

We could have shared a sandwich together, and talked about old times.' She looked down at the baby, napping in his pushchair.

'Petey doesn't need feeding again for hours, and----'

'Well----' began Matthew, but this time Olivia had to speak.

'It is a pity,' she said, sliding her arm around Matthew's and holding on. The muscle in his arm stiffened beneath her fingers, but she ignored it, looking up at him deliberately and producing a disarming smile. 'But we're going to the Crown, aren't we, Matt?

For old times' sake, hmm? And it's not really the sort of place to take"Petey, was it?'

She said the name disparagingly, even though she had no quarrel with the baby, sleeping in his pushchair. It wasn't his fault that his mother chose to call him by such an absurd diminutive.

But she was so angry that she could have screamed, and she would have said anything to end this encounter.

However, it wasn't until Julie had said her goodbyes and walked away that the enormity of what she had done really struck her. She had embarra.s.sed Matthew in front of a friend of his wife's, and implied a relations.h.i.+p between them that she was trying to forget.

'Are you crazy?'

It was Matthew who took the offensive now, and Olivia let go of his arm to sweep the weight of her hair back from her face.

'I"didn't realise your invitation to lunch had to be kept a secret,'

she exclaimed, but the indignation in her voice was hardly convincing.

'It didn't,' he retorted, and, realising they were blocking the footpath, Matthew gripped her upper arm and urged her across the street. 'But, in case you've forgotten, you turned me down.'

His lips twisted. 'And, before Julie came on the scene, I got the distinct impression you were trying to avoid me!'

'Matt----'

'No, you listen to me. I don't know what sort of game you're playing, but, I'm warning you, don't play with fire! If you'd wanted me, you'd never have left the village, and I won't have you implying anything else, just because it suits you!'

'You don't know what I wanted,' declared Olivia rashly, wrenching her arm away from his biting grasp. 'Oh"I'll see you later,' she added, ma.s.saging the red marks he had left on her flesh. 'Let's make it a quarter to one, shall we? To allow for the time we've wasted---'

'Let's not,' countered Matthew, once again blocking her escape. 'As you've told Julie we're having lunch at the Crown, let's do that, shall we? Or would you rather compound the fiction by chickening out?'

Olivia avoided his eyes. 'She won't know----'

'Julie knows a lot of people here. She might.'

'But----' Olivia felt trapped '"after what you said just now, I'd have thought you wouldn't want us to be seen together.'

'Don't talk rubbis.h.!.+ I brought you into town, didn't I? The least controversial thing we can do is have lunch at the Crown. If we were having an affair, I'd hardly take you there.'

Olivia expelled her breath a little unevenly. An affair! Her palms felt damp. 'But"you wanted to go to the bank.'

'I'll go afterwards,' replied Matthew levelly. 'After so much"hot air"what I need right now is a drink.'

The Crown Hotel stood at the end of Broad Street. It had been there for as long as Olivia could remember, and she and Matthew had often sat in its comfortable saloon bar in the old days. There had been wooden booths then, with round tables surrounded on three sides by a cus.h.i.+oned seat, which had been ideal for young couples wanting privacy. They had met there on winter evenings, when it had been too cold to sit in Matthew's car. Until she had decided to take the train up to London, and Matthew had introduced her to the delights of sharing his bed...

But she mustn't think of that now, Olivia told herself anxiously, as they entered the imposing entrance hall of the hotel.

She had made enough mistakes for one morning, and telling Julie they were lunching here had not been the least of them. This place was too familiar. It held too many memories. And if Matthew sat beside her, in the intimacy of a booth, would she be able to remember that their intimacy was now forbidden?

However, her fears on that score were soon dispelled. Like the rest of Abbot's Norton, the Crown had had a facelift, and the dark little booths had been removed. In their place were wrought-iron tables and plush armchairs, presently filled with the lunchtime crowd, enjoying pies and sandwiches with their beer.

Her relief must have shown in her face, because Matthew's eyes narrowed sardonically. 'What's the matter?' he enquired.

'Were you afraid I might be tempted to make a pa.s.s at you under the table?'

Olivia coloured. She couldn't help it. But, 'No,' she said, as she followed him to the bar, and requested a gla.s.s of white wine.

'I wouldn't expect you to be so cra.s.s. We're not teenagers now, you know.'

'I know.' Matthew's voice was terse, as he ordered her white wine, and half a pint of lager for himself. 'I think I had more sense then,' he added, carrying their drinks across to an empty table. 'It was only when you went away that I lost it.'

There was no answer Olivia could make to that, and instead she picked up her drink and tasted it. The wine was cool and clear, and marvellously refres.h.i.+ng, and she put out her tongue to clear her lips of every drop. It was only when she caught Matthew watching her that she realised how provocative her action had been, and in future she made sure she didn't repeat it.

'So,' he said, after she had laboriously inspected every other occupant of the bar besides himself, 'you're not returning to the States after the funeral.' 'What?' Olivia pretended to have been diverted, and patiently he repeated his statement. 'Oh"no. Well, not immediately, anyway,' she amended cautiously. 'My mother wants me to stay on for a little while.'

'And do you?'

'Well, of course.' Olivia lifted her shoulders in a careless gesture. 'It's lovely to see all the family again.'

Matthew's dark brows arched. 'Is it? So why didn't you make the effort to come and see them before this? Why did there have to be a funeral before you came back? Have you been so busy making money?'

Olivia caught her breath. 'You have no right to say that to me!' she protested, and after a moment he nodded.

'No,' he conceded heavily. 'No, I don't. I'm sorry. I'm trying to keep this impersonal, but it isn't easy.'

Olivia pressed her lips together. 'You shouldn't always jump to conclusions,' she mumbled, unable to prevent the mild defence. 'Things"things aren't always what they seem.'

'Aren't they?' Matthew was regarding her intently now, and Olivia realised that once again she had spoken rashly. 'Are you saying there were other reasons than the obvious one for why you left home?'

'No!' Olivia had to divert those suspicions at all costs, and, shaking her head, she added, 'I meant"I had my reasons for not coming back.'

'Me?'

'You?' Olivia hid her reaction. 'Urn"no. No. Not you. I"I thought my father hadn't forgiven me. And"and I was right.'

'Why? Has he been giving you a hard time?'

Olivia bent her head. 'Not exactly.' She shrugged. 'I'd rather not talk about it.'

'OK. And that was the only reason you didn't come home?'

Olivia nodded. 'Yes.' That, and a grandmother who had warned her it would be wiser to stay away, she appended silently.

For a while after that, Matthew said nothing, and Olivia was relieved. It was easier for her to just sit and drink her wine, and watch other people enjoying themselves. Safer, too, she thought wryly. Whenever she spoke, she created problems for herself.

Eventually, Matthew suggested they move into the restaurant for lunch, but Olivia held back. 'Couldn't we just have a sandwich in here?' she asked, not attracted by a long-drawn-out meal, over which she was sure to say the wrong thing. 'I'm"er"I'm not very hungry, I'm afraid.'

'Are you ever?' remarked Matthew sardonically. 'All right. If that's what you want. They even do a fairly pa.s.sable lasagne, if that appeals to you.'

'Urn"no. A ham sandwich would be fine,' she a.s.sured him firmly. 'And some coffee, if they have it.'

'Oh, I'm sure they have it, but whether you'll like it is another matter,' commented Matthew drily, getting up from his chair.

'OK. I won't be a minute.'

When he came back, he was carrying an oval plate containing an a.s.sortment of sandwiches. There was ham, and cheese, and egg mayonnaise, and Olivia regarded them with real enthusiasm.

They had obviously been freshly made, and the smell of new bread was irresistible.

'She'l bring the coffee in a few minutes,' remarked Matthew, seating himself again. 'Help yourself.'

And Olivia did so, biting into a crisp roll with more enjoyment than she had shown for any food in years. She was sure it was b.u.t.ter on the bread, and Perry, who was a fanatic about saturated fats, would probably have a fit if he knew what she was doing. But he didn't. Only Matthew was a witness to her transgression, and he was just as bad, munching a cheese and tomato sandwich with an obvious lack of concern.

'Good, hmm?' he said, unaware of her ambivalence, and Olivia cast caution to the wind.

'Very good,' she agreed, helping herself to another roll. 'I'd forgotten what real bread tastes like. Perry----'

She broke off abruptly, annoyed with herself for bringing Perry's name into it, but Matthew's eyes barely flickered before he asked, 'Perry? Is that the man you live with?'

'I don't live with him!' Olivia found herself correcting his a.s.sumption, even though it would probably have been better if he had thought she did. 'We"I"have my own apartment. But he is a close friend, yes.'

Matthew studied her. 'I understand he set you up in business,'

he said quietly. 'Did he really do that for nothing?'

'He didn't"set me up in business,' replied Olivia steadily, ' I got the idea for starting the agency for British nannies in New York. Perry"helped me to get finance, that's all.' She sniffed.

'Anyway, I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's nothing to do with you.'

'No.' Matthew conceded the point. But after a moment, he asked, 'Where did you meet him, then? He doesn't sound the type to mix with the Stephen Kramers of this world.'

'What would you know about it?' exclaimed Olivia, stung in spite of herself. 'But, if you must know, we met while I was looking after the children of a South American diplomat.

Surprisingly enough, I'm good with children"other people's children,' she amended quickly. 'When"when the Kramers came back to England, I went to work for the Martinezes. End of story.'

'End of story, beginning of"what?' enquired Matthew sardonically, but Olivia turned her head away, and the conversation lapsed.

But eventually Matthew spoke again, and when he did so, Olivia endeavoured to equal his objectivity.

'Tell me,' he said, 'what does Perry do to make a living?' And when her eyes sparkled dangerously, he added, 'Really. I'm interested. As"a friend if you like. Someone who"cares about you.'

Olivia stiffened. 'Matt----'

'What?'