is dead—–’
‘That is my mother. And how did you know her name?’ Her voice was sharp with suspicion. ‘I didn’t tell you.’
‘I already knew it. I also know your father’s name is Malcolm, that you were born on April the fourteenth twenty years ago, that you had a boy-friend called David—–’
‘How do you know all that?’ she gasped, her glass landing heavily on the table, unconcerned with the curious glances now coming their way. ‘Why did you need to know that? You had no right going into my background!’
‘I had every right,’ he told her abruptly. ‘You see, I’m your stepbrother. Your mother is married to my father.’
Merry paled. ‘My mother is dead,’ she said weakly. ‘I just told you that.’
He gave her an impatient look. ‘I meant your real mother—–’
‘Real mother?’ she echoed shrilly, her eyes huge in her pale face. ‘I don’t know what you mean!’
‘Perhaps we should get out of here and go somewhere where we can talk more privately?’ he suggested abruptly, signalling the waiter for their bill.
Merry’s movements were jerky as she picked up her handbag. ‘We have nothing more to say to each other.’
‘Meredith—–’
‘Take your hands off me!’ She wrenched away from him. ‘You got me here under the pretence of offering me a part in your film—–’
‘I didn’t,’ he sighed. ‘You surmised that all on your own.’
‘What else was I supposed to think?’ Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I had no idea you had some sort of dossier on me!’
‘Meredith, you have to listen,’ his expression was intent, the jaw rigid. ‘Anthea wants to see you.’
‘Who is Anthea?’ she cried her bewilderment, wondering if this man were deranged.
‘Your mother.’
‘My mother’s name was Sarah—Sarah Charles!’ she told him heatedly.
He gave an angry sigh. ‘You aren’t helping matters by this ridiculous refusal to admit the truth. You may have thought of Sarah Charles as your mother, and I’m sure she was a very good one, but that doesn’t change the fact that Anthea, my stepmother, is really your mother, that the Charleses adopted you when you were only a few months old. I realise it must have been painful for you to accept when you were a child, but surely by this time you’re used to it?’
Merry shook her head dazedly, unable to hide her distress. ‘You were wrong about me, Mr Steele. I’m not the girl you were looking for after all. My name is Meredith Charles, yes, and my parents’ names are Sarah and Malcolm, but I—I wasn’t adopted.’ Her voice shook.
‘Meredith—–’
She stood up. ‘You have the wrong girl, Mr Steele,’ she told him hardly. ‘The wrong girl!’ She turned away, walking straight into the waiter bringing their bill, pushing past him with a muttered apology, almost running out of the restaurant, knowing that Gideon Steele couldn’t follow her when he had to pay the bill.
But why should he want to follow her? He had the wrong Meredith Charles, the wrong person completely. He had to have! She couldn’t possibly be the daughter of some woman called Anthea. Her mother was Sarah Charles. She was!
‘HEY, how did—Merry?’ Vanda frowned as Merry rushed straight past her into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. ‘Merry?’ Vanda knocked on the door anxiously. ‘What happened? Was it just an approach after all?’ Anger entered her voice.
Merry sat numbly on the bedroom chair, her thoughts racing—and all of them telling her it had all been a terrible mistake, that what Gideon Steele had told her couldn’t possibly be true of her!
‘Merry, can I come in?’ Vanda requested gently, softly opening the door as she received no answer. ‘Oh, love!’ she groaned as she saw Merry’s pale face, coming down on her knees in front of the chair. ‘What did he do to you?’
‘Do?’ Merry repeated dazedly. ‘Nothing. He didn’t do anything to me.’
‘Then why—Damn!’ Vanda swore as the doorbell rang, standing up to go and answer it.
Merry looked panic-stricken. ‘I don’t want to see him. I won’t see him!’
‘All right, love,’ the other girl soothed. ‘I’ll tell him you haven’t got back yet. I’m not an actress for nothing!’ She closed the bedroom door firmly behind her, a determined glint in her eyes.
Merry heard the flat door being opened, the murmur of voices, and then silence. She would never be able to thank Vanda enough for getting rid of Gideon Steele. She needed time to think right now, to get her thoughts together—to forget what he had told her.
She looked down at the carpet as the bedroom door opened once more. ‘Thanks, Vanda,’ she murmured, ‘I didn’t want to talk to him again. You see, he has some wild story—–’
‘It isn’t wild, Meredith,’ his husky voice interrupted her.
‘You!’ she gasped, looking up at Gideon Steele with wide green eyes, her hands clutching convulsively at the arms of the chair. Vanda hadn’t managed to put him off after all!
‘Yes,’ he sighed wearily, slightly pale beneath his tan. ‘Can I talk to you?’
She doubted this man requested very often, he was the type who did things without asking anyone’s permission. But she didn’t feel in the least warmed by the fact that he was asking her now. What he had done to her had been cruel and thoughtless. He should have made sure of his facts before confronting her with such a ridiculous story. As it was, she was in no mood to listen to anything further he might have to say.
Some of what she was thinking must have shown in her face. ‘I think we have to, Meredith,’ he encouraged softly, closing the door behind him.
Her head went back, her eyes defiant. ‘If you want to apologise—–’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t apologise for telling the truth. I can apologise for the way I told you. I had no idea you didn’t know about your adoption.’
She stood up, moving about the room with agitated movements. ‘I wish you’d stop saying that,’ she snapped. ‘You can’t know how wrong you are,’ she gave a scornful laugh. ‘I’m so like my father that what you’re telling me is ridiculous. Ever since I can remember people have remarked on the similarity.’
His hands were thrust into his trousers pockets, his height dwarfing the tiny bedroom. ‘Maybe they were just being kind—or maybe you do have the same colouring.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve heard that adoption societies try to do that, match the child up with at least one of the parents. Any facial similarity would
