The Diary Of Pamela D. Read online

  In an ominous, menacing tone, Theo said quietly, ‘Chief Inspector, it’s getting late. If I am forced to deal with Albert Askrigg myself, I will. And if I do, what’s left will be fit only for-’

  Her heart pounding uncontrollably, Pamela hurried away from the door, not wishing to hear any more. When was this nightmare going to end? This business with Albert Askrigg had begun like a blight and had gradually spread to the point where every aspect of her home life had become tainted. She couldn’t even sleep without her thoughts turning to the lurking, menacing danger that waited for her like the eyes of some unknown night animal in the wood.

  It was time for Theo to take her upstairs and she waited with dread, wondering whether this one comfortable and comforting routine would be stolen from her as well.

  He acknowledged her tacitly with his eyes as he stopped by the kitchen door and she hurried upstairs after him, but some inner impulse caused her to change into her bedclothes before joining him in the upstairs sitting room, and she clung to him as she had never done before.

  There was an unaccustomed tension in his frame that sent needles of panic throughout her being. At last he flicked the stub of his cheroot into the fire and drained the last of his sherry. But when he led her to her room she balked, began pleading with him.

  ‘Don’t leave me alone. Please! I can’t sleep. I’m afraid of waking up and finding him in my room.’

  ‘We can’t stay up all night,’ he said reasonably. ‘You’ll have to go to sleep sometime.’

  ‘No!’ she pleaded, wincing at her own tone, which to her ears sounded like a petulant little girl. ‘I don’t want to be alone.’

  Looking indecisive, he said, ‘Well, why don’t you go and crawl in beside my mother? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘But I want to be with you-’ she put her hands over her mouth. The words were out before she’d had a chance to think about what she said.

  ‘You must realise,’ he said carefully, ‘that we can’t . . . do anything.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ she blurted. ‘I mean, I do care. I mean, I don’t want to do anything. I just want-’ something inside her, though awakened, vigilant and expectant, had gone very still. ‘I just want to be with you.’

  He took a deep breath, studied her face carefully.

  ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘Give me a few minutes to get changed and into bed.’

  As he left her and went into his room her heart began hammering uncontrollably, and she began to wonder what a discreet amount of time was. After what seemed like several minutes she went to his door and listened intently. Was that the sound of sheets being disturbed as he got into bed or was he dressing or undressing? Would his bed creak as he got into it, or would it make any sound at all? Would-

  ‘When you’re done waiting, you may come in.’

  She had never really seen the inside of his room before; only occasional chance glances. It was in near darkness as she opened the door, moved inside, and closed it silently behind her. He was laying on his bed, propped up against several pillows, watching her. Like the rest of the house it was done in rich wooden panelling, which in the dark appeared somehow sinister. His furniture was very masculine; he had a bureau made from reddish, dark wood, with matching dresser and night-stands at both sides of the bedstead. The bed itself was canopied, the cover supported by four thick wooden posts. Timidly, she crossed the floor until she was standing beside his bed. He was wearing a comfortable-looking pair of pajamas which in the dim light appeared a pale wine-colour.

  ‘Well, you’re here now. Are you getting in so I can turn off the light, or am I going to have to turn over and try to sleep all night with the light on?’

  She drew back the covers, which felt very heavy, and crawled in beside him. Without thinking, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, she went straight to him, put her head on his shoulder, draped an arm and leg across his body.

  ‘I want you to know that this is entirely against my better judgement,’ he said, but in such a way as contradicted his own words.

  She worried that he might change his mind and ask her to leave. But he put his arm comfortably around her and left it there, his hand resting on the round of her hip as though it were meant to be there. Her heart settled down altogether when his breathing assumed the deep rhythm of sleep, and she felt herself becoming deliciously drowsy, in a way that she had never experienced before. That calm, bifurcated state of mind that stole upon her when they sat together in the upstairs sitting room came upon her now, only more deeply, with much more vivid, poignant and real imaginings. She snuggled closer, and felt a warm sort of glow begin inside her, spreading until it reached the tips of her toes. She loved him. And she was with him. That was all that mattered. This business with Albert Askrigg would all be over one day, and she would be able to visit her friend Tessa whenever she pleased.

  And yet . . . and yet . . .

  What did Theo feel towards her? If only he would just tell her. He felt something, that much was obvious. But what? If he loved her then it was a type of love she didn’t understand. True, he had initiated their comfortable routine, nights, in the upstairs sitting room. And, true, he had allowed her into his bed, a place where only married people were supposed to sleep together. But certain things didn’t add up. Why had he kissed her, only to leave her wondering why he had done so? It was obvious, even to her, that he could have her whenever he wanted. But he neither led her on nor used her. Nor had he proposed or given any indication that he ever would. Yet he had made it obvious that he wouldn’t have sex with her because they weren’t married. Which raised the obvious question: What did it mean that he was allowing a young girl to sleep in his bed, when in the morning the entire staff, his mother and everyone else, would know?

  At last an answer occurred to her but it was not one that made her happy or feel good about herself or give her any hope of having some sort of life with him. He was allowing her to sleep with him because he thought of her as a child. Why else? That meant that everyone else thought of her as a child as well, so that it was safe for her to sleep with him.

  At once she felt a deep sense of disappointment and a slight urge to get up and go to her own room. But she was very tired, the bed was warm, his body was warm and comforting against the soft, yielding length of her own. What would it feel like, she wondered, if this hard, uncompromising man beside her were to be kindled into passion, if he were to decide to make her his own for life, if he was to put his child into her?

  The thought sent a delightful thrill through her, making her loins tingle with an anticipation of shared pleasure. It was both an exhilarating and frightening thought, wondering what it would be like to be his, and at the same time what it would mean to be taken by him.

  Sighing, tumbling downwards towards slumber, she reasoned that if he had let her get this far into his life, there was always the hope, always the possibility that he would let her the rest of the way in. Clinging to that hope as though it were all that was making life bearable, she released her hold on wakefulness and clung to his side as though he were the only solid object in the sweeping tide of her life, aware all the while that somewhere, out in the wood and the night, Albert Askrigg too, watched and waited.

  -7-

  When Pamela awoke, Theo was already up and dressed, sitting on a chair by the window, elbow on the wide sill, chin on his fist, ostensibly staring outside. It was apparent from the disfocus of his gaze, however, that his attention was turned wholly inwards. But when Pamela stirred he turned to her abruptly.

  ‘Come, get dressed. We’re going out for a bit. There are some matters I feel we should discuss.’

  She bit her lip apprehensively, wondering at the resolve in his demeanor. What could it mean? That last night had been a serious mistake? That he was going to fire her? Sealing herself off from such thoughts for the present she quickly left his room, went into her own and dressed herself to match him as closely as possible. He was wearing the cableknit swe
ater she so liked on him, and she had purchased one as similar as possible, acting on an unconscious desire to somehow make herself belong to him.

  They received several speculative glances as they made their way through the house to the front door. Instead of going to where the vehicles were parked in the drive, Theo led her to a garage to the right of the house that until now Pamela had never seen opened. When he unlocked the door closest to the house, grasped the handle and heaved, the counterbalanced door groaned on its hinges as though it hadn’t been opened in years, and she followed him inside. Once her eyes adjusted to the comparative darkness she gasped in surprise. There were two cars, an MG convertible and a beautifully restored Morgan. Besides these were a number of motorbikes, most of them in various stages of restoration. To her relief he bypassed the motorbikes and made his way straight to the MG. Putting down the top, noting her hesitation, he jerked his head towards the passenger seat.

  ‘Come.’

  The car started with a little difficulty, as though it had been sitting for some time. But once started it seemed to settle in, and he eased the clutch out gently, allowing the car to roll forward, gingerly letting it get used to being run once more. Once on the open road he accelerated slowly, then drove at a comfortable speed, not too fast for comfort but quick enough to demonstrate his easy mastery of the vehicle and the road.

  ‘I’m not going to say that last night was a complete mistake,’ he said without preamble, causing a worm of anxiety to bore into her heart. ‘But sleeping with a woman I’m not married to, in my mother’s home, is simply not in the book. Therefore, to keep things on the up-and-up, I’m going to ask that you marry me. We’re going right now to Bradford to buy you a wedding and engagement band, if that’s all right with you. So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’

  She should have been elated, but the distant manner in which he imparted this information, making questions sound more like statements in the bargain, made her feel keenly let down. Surely it wasn’t supposed to be like this? She ventured a surreptitious look at him but he seemed a million miles away, as though a reply from her was of little or no consequence.

  When she didn’t answer, he frowned. ‘You must realize that we cannot continue simply sleeping together. I need an answer.’

  She felt as though she were foundering as a voice that seemed as though it belonged to someone else said hesitantly, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, as though satisfied. ‘That’s settled then.’

  Upon reaching Bradford they stopped at a restaurant for breakfast. After placing their order Theo stared out the window in silence for some time. Belatedly noticing her mood, he muttered, ‘Sorry, I’m not being very good company, am I? Is something wrong?’

  There was, of course, but she was afraid to say anything that might jeopardize their being together. As she was wont to do, she said words that were out of her mouth before she even knew what she was saying.

  ‘What were they like?’

  ‘Mm?’

  ‘My parents. You told me you met them.’

  He took a deep breath, his expression belying mistaken comprehension of her mood.

  ‘I told you I spoke with them.’ Watching her carefully, he said, ‘Are you sure you want to hear this? I’m afraid that what I learned is far from pleasant.’

  Though a foreboding feeling touched her heart, a feeling that promised to leave her feeling riven and desolate, she nodded.

  ‘Very well. But I warn you, it might be better for you not to know.’

  ‘I have to know,’ she said very quietly.

  He paused, reluctant to speak, and was then spared for the moment where their food arrived. It was apparent to Pamela that he used this time to organize his thoughts, to carefully consider and weigh what he was about to tell her. When he began speaking, however, she felt as though she had been physically struck. His tone of voice, too, was brutal, and the words he spoke left her feeling as bleak and empty as a wilderland.

  ‘To begin with, to give you some idea of what kind of people your parents are, you are not your father’s daughter. The two of them told me that your mother deliberately got herself pregnant with you by a man she used to meet in a bar, just to get back at your father because he was sleeping around. Neither of them wanted you. From the start your mother thought of you as an interloper and a burden, and your father hated you because you weren’t his . . . ’

  Only half listening, Pamela felt as though her life was cursed, that her soul was turning to cold ashes. Some perverse inner voice told her that the moment Theo was done, he would get up and walk out of her life forever, abandoning her to her fate. When he finished, however, he said very quietly, ‘You shouldn’t have asked me . . . What am I saying? I shouldn’t have told you. Come, finish your tea. We have better things to do than dwell upon what can’t be changed.’

  She responded to the unmistakable note of kindness in his voice, however small, and let him take her to a jeweller where he bought her a wedding and engagement set, and a plain, white gold band for himself. She chose a set that was relatively inexpensive, but told him that she had chosen it because the diamonds were small and deeply recessed into white gold bands that seemed a close match to his own. She told him that the other women were forever having to remove their rings and put them in a glass over the sinks when doing housework, largely because the stones were sharp, stuck out, and caught and snagged on everything. With a shrug he accepted this as being practical, but added, ‘Once we’re married, don’t expect to be wearing a maid’s uniform.’

  This had the unintended effect of making her feel both guilty and useless: guilty because it would very probably affect her relationship with the staff she thought of as her own family, and useless because she would no longer be earning her keep.

  As they left the jeweller, he removed the engagement ring from its box, took her hand, and placed it on her finger. ‘There,’ he said, ‘doesn’t that strike you as being a trifle more respectable? We are now engaged. But not officially. I’ll make the announcement when we return.’

  As they walked back to the car, Pamela wondered at her own thoughts. ‘This doesn’t feel like being engaged. It doesn’t feel like anything.’ To her surprise, however, before she could get in the car, he seemed to make a point of opening the door for her. She wondered what this signified as they got underway and began the journey home.

  They no sooner entered the house when Theo called everyone together and made the announcement. Pamela found herself not wanting the attention, wishing she was away from Dewhurst Manor long enough to collect her wits. Because Theo had made no promise of love to her, because it had seemed more like a business transaction than a proposal, she felt false, that she was misrepresenting herself as the people she now thought of as her family wished her well, congratulated the pair, and expressed their hope for the couple’s future happiness. Mrs. Dewhurst wasn’t as blind to Pamela’s apprehension, however, and soon found an excuse to draw the girl aside for some “motherly advice.”

  ‘My dear, what is the matter? You look as though you’d been caught committing an indecent act. Has Theo . . . was he . . . ? Oh, my, this is so hard a thing to ask about my own son! Was he gentle with you? Did he force you in any way?’

  ‘What? No!’ Pamela blurted as Mrs. Dewhurst’s meaning became clear to her. ‘He hasn’t touched me.’

  Mrs. Dewhurst frowned. ‘You did sleep together, did you not?’

  ‘We did, but we didn’t do anything,’ Pamela said, defensively.

  Mrs. Dewhurst gave Pamela what she thought at first was a sceptical look, until the woman said, ‘Pamela Dee! Between the two of you . . . ’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what to think! Considering how Theo used to be, he’s become a veritable . . . vestal virgin.’ Taking Pamela by the arm and leading her towards the kitchen, she said in a confiding whisper, ‘He’s changed so much since he stopped going around with that little tramp- Tracy or whatever her name was.’ She shuddered. ‘Tha
t girl was a mother’s worst nightmare! At least this time I can look forward to having the sort of daughter-in-law I can feel good about. I always wanted a little girl, you know,’ she said, giving Pamela a little squeeze, making the girl smile with embarrassed affection, ‘to offset the very naughty little boy Theo’s father and I brought into the world.’ As she filled the kettle and placed it on the stove, Pamela ventured a question.

  ‘What sort of little boy was Theo. I mean . . . I saw all his stuff out in the garage earlier this morning.’

  ‘Yes, I noticed he took you for a little spin in the MG. I don’t mind telling you, I was fully expecting to hear the squeal of tyres the moment I heard its engine start up. I used to get calls all the time about his driving, usually in the wee hours when my husband and I were trying to sleep-’ Looking genuinely worried, she queried, ‘I do hope he didn’t drive like that with you in the car. If he did, just tell me and I’ll have a word with him.’

  For the first time, Pamela detected a chink in Theo’s relationship with his mother. Mrs. Dewhurst’s reference to his driving, especially where Pamela was concerned, carried an unspoken but implicit threat. But Pamela replied, ‘He was perfect. I mean, he did exactly the speed-limit whenever it was posted. He didn’t even get angry when we got cut off a couple of times when we were in Bradford.’

  Mrs. Dewhurst quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure how to take that. At one time, if you were to look up the definition of “road-rage” in the encyclopædia you’d be sure to find Theo’s picture underneath. Come, let me show you something.’ Leading Pamela to the library, she went to a locked bookcase that was filled with pictures and old family albums. After producing a key she opened it, rummaged through, selected one, handed it to Pamela and waited for the girl’s reaction.