Watching Malory covertly, Amanda decided that the violence of the New York drugs scene must be as far removed from his environment as it was possible to get.
‘He’s got a bijou residence where he’s waited on hand and foot by devoted retainers,’ Nigel had told her once, derisively. ‘And when he’s not at the labs trying to produce a wonder-drug that will cure every known disease, he’s in his box at the opera. Coming into contact with the real world must be a hell of a shock to his system. Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to do it very often.’
But today’s events had been the real world with a vengeance, Amanda thought with a little sigh, which she hastily converted into a yawn as he looked at her.
‘You’re tired?’
‘I think I must be.’ It wasn’t strictly the truth, but she was eager to go upstairs and shut her door. The evening had turned into a rather unnerving experience, and it wasn’t altogether due to the crank calls. Sharing this kind of intimacy with Malory was—strange, and she would be glad when it was over.
She had tried phoning her mother earlier, but there was no reply, and she guessed that she and Elaine had gone to the theatre. I’ll have to get through to her in the morning, she thought.
And then, slowly and painfully, she would try to get her life back on to an even keel again—learning to live without Nigel.
She yawned ostentatiously, and got to her feet. ‘Well—goodnight. I hope you have everything you need.’ She tried a smile. ‘I’m sorry I can’t provide pyjamas.’
‘That’s no sacrifice. I never wear them.’ He had risen, too, and was walking over to her. Amanda had kicked off her shoes as she often did, and she felt oddly dwarfed suddenly.
He said quietly, ‘Goodnight, Amanda, sleep well.’ And for one brief, troubled moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, and her whole body went into shock at the idea.
She found she was backing away, babbling something incoherent about the spark-guard for the fire, and fled.
She was still awake an hour later when he came upstairs to bed, but he passed her door without hesitating, and she lay in the darkness, castigating herself for having behaved like an idiot in front of him, yet again.
She was just asking herself for the umpteenth time where the harm would have been in a brief, farewell peck on the cheek, and still receiving no satisfactory answer, when she fell asleep.
The crash seemed to shatter the room. For one terrified, screaming moment, Amanda thought the cottage had been bombed, then she made herself reach for the switch of the bedside lamp, realising as she did so that a strong current of cold air was reaching her from somewhere.
As the lamp came on, she cried out. There was a gaping hole in the middle of her window-pane, and a half-brick lay on the carpet, surrounded by shards of broken glass. There were even some splinters on her duvet, she realised, shuddering.
Her door opened, and Malory put his head, and one bare, surprisingly muscular, shoulder into the room.
‘What the hell was that?’ he demanded, then stopped. ‘Christ!’
‘Don’t come in.’ Amanda’s voice shook. ‘There’s glass everywhere.’
‘I’ve no intention of coming in until I’ve put something on,’ he said curtly. ‘In the meantime, stay exactly where you are.’
He was back, it seemed, within seconds, still fastening his zip as he came into the room.
Amanda said with a little sob, ‘It must be vandals.’
‘Of course.’ His voice was heavily ironic. ‘There are always hordes of them at this time of year.’ He looked around him. ‘Where are your slippers?’
‘With your pyjamas.’
His mouth tightened. ‘Then it seems I’ll have to provide transport.’ As he approached the bed, Amanda could hear glass scrunching under his feet. He leaned down and pulled back the duvet. ‘Put your arms round my neck, and I’ll carry you,’ he directed.
‘Carry me where?’ Amanda made an unavailing snatch at the duvet, thankful that her nightgown had been bought for cosiness rather than glamour.
‘To the room I’m using,’ he said, rather too patiently.
She swallowed. ‘But where will you go?’
‘I’ll clear up the glass and fasten something over that window, then spend what remains of the night in here.’ He paused. ‘Or have you some objection?’
She said, ‘Aren’t you going to see if you can find—whoever did this?’
His mouth twisted. “‘Whoever” is probably in a car, and well away by this time. I’m not embarking on any wild-goose chase at this hour of the morning. Now, shall we make a start?’ He bent towards her and, reluctantly, Amanda allowed herself to be lifted out of bed and into his arms.
He wasn’t anywhere near as effete as she’d thought, she discovered with amazement. He’d picked her up without the slightest effort, and she could feel the play of his muscles under her hand as she steadied herself.
On the landing, she said, ‘There isn’t any glass here, so you can put me down,’ and he obeyed so promptly it was almost an insult.
He said prosaically, ‘Where will I find a dustpan and brush?’
‘In the kitchen cupboard, next to the back door.’ She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘And there are some cardboard boxes, too, that you might be able to use to cover the window.’ She put a hand to her head. ‘Oh, this is all crazy! None of it can be happening.’
‘Of course it isn’t.’ Malory gave her a gentle push in the direction of the spare room. ‘Now, go and get some rest and tell yourself in the morning that it’s all been a bad dream.’
But she couldn’t relax. Lying in the warm hollow his body had created, Amanda listened tensely to the sounds of movement along the passage. When they eventually ceased, she called to him.
‘What’s the matter?’ He came to stand in the doorway.
‘I’m frightened.’ Her teeth were chattering, but not because she was cold. ‘Do you think he—they will come back?’
If he’d noticed that revealing self-correction, he made no comment. ‘I don’t think so. I imagine the purpose of the exercise—to give you a good fright—has been achieved.’
She stared at him. ‘You really do think it’s Nigel, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ His voice was matter of fact.
‘It can’t be!’ she denied vehemently. ‘No grown man could be so—childish.’
He smiled. ‘I don’t think you can have known a great many grown men,’ he said with a touch of cynicism. ‘But perhaps we could continue this debate in the morning. I’d like to get some sleep.’
A voice she hardly recognised as hers said, ‘I don’t want
