ready,’ he affirmed, allowing the fur to fall from his hands. ‘Latimer is just getting the car. Do you need a drink first?'
Helen flicked a glance in his direction. ‘Do you?'
‘I already have.’ A faintly ironic gleam appeared in Jake's eyes. ‘Your service, I believe.'
Helen did not allow him to see how his mocking sarcasm could annoy her. Instead, she walked towards the door and he had perforce to follow her.
Downstairs Latimer waited patiently in the well of the hall. He bade his mistress good evening and held open the door for both her and Jake as they left the house. Latimer was driving this evening. It was more convenient for Jake at affairs like these where there was always an abundance of food and alcohol.
The Embassy stood in a square off Bond Street and by the time they arrived there was already a steady stream of people climbing the shallow steps to the front doors. There was no room to park in front of the building, so Latimer was to take the car home and return for them later.
Jake helped Helen out of the car and said a few words to Latimer before turning and cupping her elbow as they mounted the steps together. They entered a wide marble hall where uniformed personnel were employed to direct guests to the cloakroom and Helen left Jake for a while to check in her stole and assure herself that her make-up was still as faultless as when they left home. The cloakroom was filled to capacity with women of all colours and nationalities, in all types of national dress; from the sleek sophistication of the cheongsam to the undoubted elegance of the sari, and Helen had only a hasty glimpse of her reflection before turning and emerging again into the entrance hall.
Jake was waiting for her, but he was not alone. A middle-aged man with a bristling moustache was talking animatedly to him while Giles St John and his wife Jennifer were standing close by listening. Jennifer waved energetically when she saw Helen and Helen walked towards them with enthusiasm.
‘Helen, darling!’ Jennifer kissed her cheek warmly. ‘It's simply ages since we've seen you. What have you been doing with yourself?'
Jake's eyes strayed to his wife's slightly flushed face and Helen was intensely conscious of that look. She knew Jake was perfectly capable of appearing to give all his attention to one matter while he was actually listening to something entirely different, and she sensed his interest in her reply. Perhaps he expected her to tell Jennifer about seeing Keith Mannering.
So she smiled in her usual self-possessed manner, and said: ‘I expect you've been busy. I know I have. And with Jake just getting back from the States…’ She allowed the sentence to tail away in a smiling, deprecatory gesture and Giles took her attention.
‘You're looking particularly extravagant this evening, my love,’ he remarked teasingly, holding on to her hand rather longer than was necessary. ‘Where did you get this particular bauble?’ He touched the necklace at her throat with a light hand. ‘I guarantee that wasn't bought at Woolworths!'
Jake had finished talking to the middle-aged politician by this time and he turned to listen to what was being said with smiling amusement.
‘You think not?’ he queried, in reply to Giles’ comment, his eyes holding Jennifer's for a deliberately long moment, arousing a fluttering awareness inside her which Helen was instantly conscious of. Then he looked at his wife and his eyes narrowed perceptibly. ‘One tries to improve upon perfection,’ he observed dryly, and Helen felt the colour in her cheeks deepen annoyingly.
‘I think this conversation is rather ridiculous, don't you?’ she asked of Jennifer quickly. ‘Oh, Giles, did you find anything out about that vinaigrette?’ As well as being on the board of several companies Giles was an amateur enthusiast of the world of antiques and Helen had given him a small silver container which Jake had given her for her birthday which was reputed to have belonged to Lady Hamilton herself.
Giles went on to explain that he was still in the process of investigating it, and by mutual consent they moved towards the stairs, Helen walking with Giles ahead of the others. She could vaguely hear Jake relating some outrageously funny anecdote of his trip to the States to Jennifer and she was laughing excitedly. Helen's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. On the rare occasions when she had been depressed enough to complain about her husband to her friend, Jennifer had always sided with her in agreeing that Jake treated her abominably and that she personally found him despicable. And yet whenever they were all together Jennifer behaved as though she found Jake immensely attractive, and for the first time tonight it irritated Helen. She glanced round at them impatiently, a little of her annoyance showing in her face. Jake caught the look, however, and held her gaze for a long disturbing moment. Then Jennifer stumbled, whether by accident or design Helen could not be certain, and caught his arm, and his attention was distracted.
Helen continued up the stairs, but there was an awful shaken feeling gripping her stomach. Jake had not discussed his American trip with her, indeed they had spoken little since his return, and it was infuriating that this knowledge upset her so. When Giles tugged a strand of her hair to attract her attention she turned to him with more enthusiasm than was usual, dazzling him with the brilliance of her smile. She was allowing the whole affair more importance than it demanded and she closed her ears to Jennifer's whispered confidences. Giles didn't appear to notice, so why did she?
The reception lounges at the top of the stairs were filled with people, all talking and laughing and helping themselves to the liberal supply of alcohol, and a major-domo in formal dress announced their names as they entered. One of the Ambassador's aides greeted them politely and introduced them to several other officials, and then someone else was arriving and they were left to mingle.
Helen saw Jake looking about him with interest over the rim of his whisky glass and she sipped her champagne cocktail a little resignedly. She knew that look. It was the predatory look of the tiger when it is getting ready to pounce, and she knew that for the moment Jake's mind was occupied with business. As though to illustrate this point, Jake excused himself from them at that moment on the pretext of speaking to some politician he knew and he disappeared among the crowd almost before anyone had time to voice an objection. Jennifer looked almost pityingly at her friend, and said wryly:
‘I suppose that's the last we can expect to see of your husband for an hour or two. Really, he is the absolute limit, don't you think?'
Helen bent her head, stroking the rim of her glass with an absent finger. ‘I suppose so,’ she conceded quietly.
Giles tucked an arm through each of theirs. ‘I should care,’ he remarked smilingly. ‘At least he's left me with the two most attractive women in the room!'
Helen smiled, and Jennifer gave him a bored wrinkle of her nose. ‘But what are we expected to do, darling? I mean—don't you know anyone of interest?'
Giles frowned and looked about him with concentrated attention. ‘Well, I know President Lbari, over there with his wife. He was at Cambridge with me. His wife's a sweet girl. Used to be a nurse, I believe.'
Jennifer looked bored. ‘Who is that man who is staring at us? That middle-aged man, over there. Do you know him?'
Giles flicked his gaze round. ‘Oh, you mean Bertie Mallard. Yes,’ he nodded his head in acknowledgement of the other man's raised hand. ‘He's Lord Mallard, actually. You've heard me mention him, I'm sure, Jennifer. He's quite an expert on old furniture.'
Jennifer raised her eyes skyward. ‘Heavens!’ she remarked dryly. ‘The excitement of that statement! Don't any interesting people come to these receptions, any young people?'
‘Of
