have come to the funeral,’ he said shortly. ‘But I was out of the country when your cable arrived. And naturally the burial took place so much more quickly than it would have done here.’
‘Yes.’ Julie finished her drink and moved away from the window. Away from him. ‘Is that all?’
Robert swung round, his expression hardening at the resignation in her voice. ‘Are you so indifferent?’ he muttered.
‘Indifferent!’ Julie put a hand to her throat defensively. ‘My God! You think I’m indifferent?’
‘Well, aren’t you? I can’t see any tears in those limpid green eyes!’
Julie found it difficult to breathe suddenly. ‘That’s a foul thing to say!’
‘Why? Am I mistaken? Are you really the bereft widow?’
Julie stared at him for a long moment, anger strengthening her weakening resolve. ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ she demanded fiercely. ‘I didn’t ask to come here! I didn’t ask to be patronized by the powerful Pemberton family! I want nothing from any of you – you, least of all!’
Robert’s face paled slightly under his tan and she realized that for once she had succeeded in really getting under his skin. ‘That’s right, Julie,’ he snarled. ‘Show your true colours! Show what a selfish coarse little bitch you really are!’
Julie took a step forward. She wanted to slap that sneering violence from his face once and for all. But even as she moved the door opened to admit Lucy Pemberton.
Lucy was wearing a long black gown of heavy silk, several strings of pearls about her still youthful throat. For all she was almost sixty, life had aged her little, and looking at her now Julie found it hard to believe that she had not been well enough to come to the airport to meet them.
But it was no use harbouring grudges. In a few days, a week at the most, she would find somewhere for herself and Emma to live, and then she would be free of the Pemberton family for good.
‘Hello,’ said Lucy, when she saw them both. ‘You’re still here, Robert?’ Was that a note of reproof in her voice? ‘I thought your appointment was for seven-thirty. It’s gone that already, you know.’
Robert stubbed out the cigar he had been smoking and dropped it carelessly into the ashtray. ‘There’s no hurry, Mother,’ he remarked, in complete control of himself again.
‘I’m not sure Pamela would agree with you, darling.’ There was definitely a note of reproof now, and a brief dismissing glance in Julie’s direction. ‘You must meet Pamela, Julie. Pamela Hillingdon. You may have heard of the family. She and Robert are getting married in the spring.’
Julie managed to appear unmoved by this news. ‘Really,’ she said evenly. ‘But I doubt whether I’ll ever have that opportunity. She and I no doubt move in different circles.’
Robert had been reaching for the handle of the door, but at her words he turned abruptly to face her, his eyes narrowing. ‘I don’t understand what you mean, Julie,’ he stated flatly, and his mother drew her brows together in delicate bewilderment.
‘You’re not going to be difficult, Julie, I hope,’ she exclaimed, and received a quelling glance from her son which Julie found hard to comprehend.
‘Well?’ Robert demanded. ‘Exactly what are you saying, Julie?’
Julie felt her cheeks colouring in spite of her determination to stay cool. ‘Surely it’s obvious,’ she stated steadily. ‘I – well – Emma and I can’t live here. Within the next few days, I intend to look around for a job and somewhere for Emma and myself to live—’
‘What?’ Lucy put a trembling hand to her temples and sank down weakly into the nearest chair. ‘Oh, Julie, you can’t be serious!’
‘It doesn’t matter whether she is or otherwise,’ snapped Robert obliquely. ‘She hasn’t yet been informed of the facts of the case.’
‘What facts?’ Julie pressed her palms together apprehensively.
Lucy looked up at her son. ‘You didn’t tell her?’
‘I didn’t get the chance.’ Robert raked a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. When he was disturbed as he was now it was painfully easy to remember the last confrontation she had had with him, and Julie bent her head to avoid the cold brilliance of those grey eyes.
‘Will you please tell me what I’m supposed to be told?’ Julie wondered how long her legs would continue to support her. ‘Is there some reason why I should not be permitted to do as I like?’ She looked up suddenly, her eyes guarded. ‘Because if there is, I shall fight it.’
‘Oh, Julie, please.’ Lucy fanned herself with one hand. ‘Don’t be difficult! We only want to do what’s best for – for you, and for Emma.’
Robert flicked back his cuff and glanced at the broad gold watch on his wrist and Julie stiffened. ‘Don’t let me keep you from your appointment,’ she exclaimed. ‘Just say what you have to say and go!’
Robert’s eyes glittered. She knew that had they been alone there would have been things said which they might both have regretted later, although she doubted that Robert ever did anything he might regret.
‘Michael left a will,’ he said at last.
‘I know that. He left his shares in the company to the family. So what? I don’t need anything—’
‘Don’t talk rubbish!’ Robert lost control for a moment and turning away he poured himself another drink, swallowing half of it while his mother clicked her tongue irritably.
‘Can’t we all keep our tempers?’ she asked, through tight lips.
Robert turned back, the glass in his hand. ‘Very well, I’ll try and be brief. Michael left his shares in the company to the family to be kept in trust for Emma until she’s twenty-one. Until then, she is left in my guardianship.’
‘No!’ The word was torn incredulously from Julie’s lips.
‘Yes,’ said Robert inflexibly. ‘And I shouldn’t advise you to fight that!’
Julie out put a hand, catching the back of a chair to support herself. She couldn’t believe her ears. Michael couldn’t have made such a will. Not knowing … not knowing …
She closed her eyes. She thought she was going to faint and she heard Lucy say: ‘Good heavens, Robert, she’s going to pass out!’ before strong hands she hadn’t the will to shake off were lowering her firmly into a chair. Resting her head against the soft upholstery the feeling of faintness receded, and she opened her eyes again to find Robert about to put a glass of some amber liquid into her hand.
‘Drink this,’ he advised. ‘It will make you feel better.’
Julie’s breathing was short and constricted. ‘Nothing will make me feel better,’ she retorted childishly. ‘Take it away!’
Robert ignored her, pressing the glass into her hand so that she was forced to take it or spill it over her
