beautiful this room is, Francesca. It’s so gracious, and I love a fire on a nasty wintry night.’ A wistful expression flickered briefly on her face, and there was a small silence before she added quietly, ‘It’s so friendly and inviting.’
‘And comforting too,’ Francesca suggested in a tone that was full of understanding.
Their eyes met and inwardly they assessed each other. Neither Katharine nor Francesca knew it but something very special was beginning between them. A bond was being forged, and it would prove to be a bond so strong and enduring it would resist all outside forces and influences for well over a decade. And when it was finally broken, both of them would be devastated.
But now, this night, they simply knew they liked each other, although they did not, as yet, reveal this. The prolonged silence continued to drift between them, but there were no feelings of awkwardness and they went on appraising each other quite overtly.
Finally a sweet smile floated on to Katharine’s face. ‘And do you know something, Francesca? I even like a fire in summer,’ she began. ‘It’s – ‘
‘Absolutely necessary in this bloody awful climate,’ cried Kim, as he strode into the room. ‘And especially at Langley. No wonder the ancestors trudged around in that ghastly armour. It was undoubtedly the only way they could keep warm.’
The mood of quiet introspection was broken, and Francesca and Katharine glanced at each other in amusement. Then Katharine said, ‘By the way, it’s very good of you to include Victor Mason, Francesca. I’m sure you’ll like him. He’s not a bit like one would expect. He’s … he’s … ‘ She stopped, sought the appropriate word and finished, ‘Well, he’s certainly very different.’
‘I’ve never met a film star before, so I don’t know what to expect,’ Francesca admitted with a shy smile. ‘To tell you the truth, I haven’t seen many of his films. Maybe two or three at the most, and certainly nothing lately. How terrible. I do feel at such a disadvantage.’
‘Oh, heavens, you don’t have to worry about that!’ Katharine exclaimed. ‘I think Victor is relieved when he doesn’t have to discuss his movies or his career. And he’s one of the few actors I know who doesn’t want to talk about himself endlessly. Thank goodness he’s not having a love affair with himself, like some performers I know. We can be a pretty boring narcissistic breed at times.’ She twisted the gold signet ring on her little finger absently, wondering what had happened to Victor. He should have been here by now.
‘Have you known him long?’ Francesca asked.
Katharine crossed her legs and smoothed her dress. ‘No, only a few months. Sometimes I think he’s rather a lonely man.’ Her face became still and contemplative and she stared into the blazing fire, lost for a moment in her wandering thoughts.
Francesca could not help noticing this change and it disturbed her. At some time in her life she has been touched by a terrible sadness, she thought. It runs deep in her. This notion at once seemed so ridiculous, so farfetched, Francesca immediately pushed it away. But she did consider Katharine’s remark about Victor Mason rather odd, in view of his fame. She was wondering how best to respond to it, when Kim saved her the trouble.
‘Champagne!’ he proclaimed, handing them each a crystal flute. He retrieved his own glass from the chest, proposed a toast and hovered over Katharine. His eyes hardly left her face, and Francesca well knew the reason why. She was finding it difficult to tear her own gaze away, was in danger of staring as rudely as she had done initially. Suddenly more than conscious of this, she focused her attention on Kim, who was now standing behind the sofa, intent on Katharine.
Meeting his sister’s direct look, he said, ‘I’ve decided to stay in town next week. I can drive back to Langley with the old man at the weekend. I’ll leave you the Mini, old thing.’
‘Is Father coming up to London? He didn’t mention it to me, when we spoke yesterday. How odd,’ Francesca said.
Kim chorded. ‘You know how vague he is. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s forgotten about it himself. But he has to come up to see Marcus, something about the trust, I believe. Anyway, he’s supposed to arrive late tomorrow evening.’
‘In that case you’d better ring him up first thing in the morning and remind him,’ Francesca instructed. ‘And thanks for offering the Mini. I can use it.’ She shook her head in mock bewilderment, and looked at Katharine. ‘Kim saying Daddy is vague is like the pot calling the kettle black. He’s equally bad at times. He’s been here since Thursday and he didn’t even bother to tell me of Daddy’s plans. Men are so thoughtless.’
‘It’s congenital,’ Katharine declared. She had been listening carefully and, never one to miss an opportunity which would work to her advantage, she seized the one which had just presented itself. She leaned forward eagerly, her face lighting up, her wistfulness completely dispelled. ‘I would love you to come to the play with your father, while he’s in town, Francesca. In fact, I’d like you all to be my guests.’ She glanced over her shoulder at Kim. ‘I’ll get house seats for you. Oh, do come! Please! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Kim told me you’re interested in history.’
‘Why, yes, I am. And how very generous of you to invite us,’ said Francesca, touched by Katharine’s thoughtfulness. ‘I would adore to see it.’ Her eyes shone with warmth, but a note of caution crept into her voice as she added, ‘I’m sure Daddy would too. I’ll certainly ask him.’ She halted, contemplating her father’s reaction to Katharine. He could not fail to like her. She had a natural sweetness and lovely manners, and was so obviously a properly brought up young woman, as well as being such a beauty. But liking her did not necessarily guarantee his full approbation, or his acceptance of her as a wife for Kim. Daddy is out of date, Francesca thought with a spurt of exasperation. Katharine might very well be perfect for Kim, just what he needs. She became aware of Katharine’s eyes focused on her, and she remarked quickly, ‘I’ve always found Greek mythology fascinating. The play’s about Helen and Paris and the Trojan War, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right.’ Katharine’s face filled with animation, and she explained, with a kind of shining earnestness, ‘It’s very dramatic and moving, really wonderful entertainment. We’re playing to a packed house every night, standing room only. And we’re sold out for weeks in advance. Naturally we’re all happy about that. Knowing we’re going to be working for some time is very reassuring, apart from the stunning reception the play is getting.’
Kim interjected, ‘The critics raved about Katharine. Actually, they were ecstatic. As well they should be. She gives a super performance, and steals everybody’s thunder.’
‘How thrilling for you to have such a big hit!’ Francesca exclaimed. As she spoke she decided Katharine made the perfect Helen of Troy. The face that launched a thousand ships. How very apt. ‘You must be a very talented actress to have this kind of success in your first West End play. Gosh, to have become a star overnight is simply marvellous. What an extraordinary achievement at your age.’
Had this breathless exultation of her success been uttered by anyone else, it might have sounded gushing, even meretricious to Katharine. But she knew Francesca meant every word. Not unnaturally, Katharine was filled with delight at the obviously genuine accolades. ‘Yes, it is exciting. And thank you, Francesca,’ she said. ‘Having a smash hit is gratifying to all of the cast. We worked hard in rehearsals and wanted the play to succeed.’ A smile played around her mouth. ‘But obviously that doesn’t ensure anything. There are a lot of other elements involved, so many other considerations, and there’s always a kind of nervous uncertainty until we’re actually playing to the public. We need the feedback,
