Ricky with the cheap chain-store clothes she had bought locally in Dorchester. She hadn’t known then that he was accustomed to far more attractively and sophisticatedly dressed women than she could ever hope to be. Her frown deepened as she touched a dress as yet never worn. It had arrived the Christmas before last, a large brown parcel with American stamps, a Christmas present from her mother. The first one she could ever remember receiving since her parents’ divorce, she thought wryly now, fingering the rich deep pink silk fabric. Why her mother had sent her such an obviously expensive and unsuitable gift was a complete mystery to her, and after one look at it she had consigned it to the back of her wardrobe, knowing she would never have either the self-confidence or the occasion to wear such an outfit. But now things had changed, she thought, fingering the fabric absently. If the secondhand Vogues Sue passed on to her were anything to go by, even the most simple dinner party now demanded sophisticated dressing, and the prospect of her new career had given her a self-confidence she had never expected to have.
Impatiently she tugged the dress off its hanger and held it in front of her. She had never even tried it on, but one glance at the label had made her decide that her mother had indulged herself in malicious amusement in sending her a size ten dress when, on the last occasion they had met, Kate would have had difficulty in getting into a size twelve.
Now, however, things were different, and the draped, wrapover style of the dress meant that the bodice would easily accommodate what she personally considered to be her rather over-full breasts.
Against the rich intensity of the silk her skin took on a matt creamy tone that emphasised the sultry darkness of her hair; the image she could see in the mahogany pier-glass at once familiar and yet unfamiliar, tantalisingly hinting at another Kate, and one moreover who looked as though she could be as turbulent and passionate as Shakespeare’s vividly drawn Shrew. Impatiently she dismissed her thoughts as ridiculous. Cool control, that was what she aimed to portray, it was safer … made her less vulnerable. Annoyed with herself, she threw the dress down on to the bed. She would have to wear it, she had nothing else suitable, and after all, who was going to notice her? Certainly not whatever poor male Sue had picked out for her, for despite her friend’s promise, Kate knew enough about her to suspect that Sue had picked someone out.
Fifteen miles away in the comfortable Edwardian house that had once been a vicarage Sue was frowningly concentrating on what her husband was saying. John Edwards was a large, placid man who was a good doctor and a compassionate one. He could tell by his wife’s face that she didn’t like what he was saying, but he still continued mildly, ‘It isn’t on, Sue, and Kate will be furious … you know that.’
‘But it isn’t my fault, it was the Bensons who asked if they could bring him. He’s a close friend of theirs, apparently, more or less completely on his own in London … what could I say?’
‘Mmm … well, Kate won’t see it that way. It would have been much better if you’d explained the situation to her. She’ll take one look at him and immediately she’s going to think the obvious—that he’s someone you’ve invited specifically to partner her, and you know how sensitive she is about that sort of thing.’
‘Mmm. Honestly, John, it almost breaks my heart. It’s such a waste … She’s so beautiful, but she behaves as though she’s the original Ugly Sister.’
‘I know. Ricky Hammond has one hell of a lot to answer for.’ John got up and put an arm round his wife’s shoulders. ‘I know you only want to help her, Sue, but you can’t. God alone knows what kind of psychological damage Hammond and her mother between them did to her, but it certainly can’t be put right by arranging dinner party partners for her.’
‘Then what will put it right?’
‘I don’t really know. It sounds trite, but all I can think of is good old-fashioned love, and Kate’s so withdrawn I doubt she could ever allow herself to believe any man could love her.’
‘How could he do that to her, John?’ Sue asked her husband miserably. ‘How could Ricky marry her and then treat her like that?’
‘Men like Hammond who are driven by an obsession, whether it’s drink, drugs or gambling, don’t function in the same way as the rest of us.’
‘Mmm … If I ring Kate now and tell her that the Bensons are bringing a spare man, ten to one she’ll refuse to come.’
‘Okay, but be prepared for fireworks,’ her husband warned her with a grin. ‘Kate won’t like it. Who is this man anyway?’
‘I don’t know his name. Vera Benson simply rang up last night and asked if they could bring him along. Apparently he’s in the same line of business as her husband—merchant banking, although at the moment he’s based in New York. Vera said he was thinking of transferring his main business to London, something about world time differences working more efficiently for him in London than they do in New York.’
‘Mmm … a lot of the big money men are transferring their business to London. Because of the new sophisticated communications systems it means that they can take advantage of the fact that, during the British working day, they can get in touch with both New York and Hong Kong during their working days, which gives them an immediate advantage.’
John grinned at his wife’s astounded expression and admitted wryly, ‘I read it in the Sunday Times magazine. If the Bensons’ friend is one of these money men, chances are he’ll be a real high-flier. Most of them are burned-out by the time they’re thirty.’
‘Oh, yeah? Did you read that in the Sunday Times as well?’
‘Yep.’ His smile was unrepentant, as he added comfortingly, ‘It sounds as though he isn’t going to be Kate’s type at all. If I know anything about these big business men he’ll spend most of the evening talking with Benson, so with any luck Kate won’t realise you’re trying to palm him off on her.’ He broke off as he saw the frown pleating his wife’s forehead and enquired, ‘Now what’s the matter?’
‘What? Oh … if he’s as important as all that, he’s not going to think much of the simple meal I was planning to serve. I wonder if it’s too late to …’
‘Yes,’ John told her firmly. ‘Whatever it is you’re planning to change, don’t. He’ll probably appreciate simple fare for a change. For goodness’ sake, Sue, stop worrying. It’s giving you grey hairs,’ he teased, watching as his wife abandoned her concern over the menu to rush over to the mirror to stare at her still-bright blonde hair.
Half-past eight was the time Sue had specified for her arrival, and knowing that she needed to allow a good three-quarters of an hour to drive to Sue’s home, at half-past six Kate abandoned the work she was doing and went upstairs to run a bath.
At half-past seven she was ready to slip into her dress. She paused to check her make-up first, wondering if the deep pink glossy lipstick was too much. She had a natural eye for colour, and although she didn’t wear make-up very often, tonight she had found it surprisingly easy to apply. Just a touch of dark blue eyeshadow brought out the intense depth of her eyes, blusher highlighting the cheekbones which gave her face its distinctive definition. The fullness of her mouth beneath its careful coating of lipstick was almost gypsyish, as was the untamed thickness of her hair worn long now as opposed to the short, almost boyish cut her mother had chosen for her just before her marriage.
She picked up the dress and put it on, securing the two buttons that fastened it at the waist. It fitted her surprisingly well, the wide stiffened belt that went with it emphasising the smallness of her waist, the silk hissing softly as she walked across the room to put on her shoes—a rather
