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‘At least promise me you’ll think about it. I know I’ve sprung it on you rather suddenly.’ One arm still lay across her shoulders and he pulled her to him, kissing her soundly before allowing her to answer. ‘Perhaps that will help you make up your mind ?’

Laura smiled thinly. Her mind was already made up. But to please him she nodded. ‘All right—but don’t raise your hopes too much.’

For the rest of the evening and during the days that followed Philip went out of his way to win Laura’s love. Flowers and chocolates frequently arrived at the flat. Almost always he appeared outside the clinic to take her home or out for a meal. He made no further reference to his proposal, but Laura knew he was impatient for her decision.

The day of reckoning came when he was waiting outside the flat as she left for the clinic one morning.

‘Hop in,' he said, laughing at her astonished face.

‘But I’m going to see Helen.’

‘I know. I’m coming with you. And afterwards we’re going to your favourite restaurant and you’re going to give me your answer. I’ve waited long enough
.'

Obediently Laura slid in beside him. ‘I don’t seem to have any choice. You have it all worked out
.'

‘True,' he replied. 'If I wait for you I’ll get nowhere.’

Laura smiled wryly. ‘You’ve been very patient, Philip.’ Indeed he was what had once been her conception of the ideal man—tolerant, kind, thoughtful. She had already decided to tell him that her answer was no, but suddenly she found herself wondering whether to change her mind. After all, if she had never met Brad there would be no hesitation. She sighed deeply, aware that Philip gave her a curious look. It was a difficult decision, one she wished she did not have to make.

And then, five minutes later, as she introduced Helen to Philip, her mind was unexpectedly made up for her. She only had to see the way he looked at Helen—his eyes never leaving her face—and Helen hanging on to his every word, to realise that here was a mutual attraction. They were drawn together as if by a magnet and Laura knew that for most of the morning her presence was forgotten. Occasionally they would remember and bring her into the conversation but they soon became wrapped up in a world of their own again.

Laura felt happy for Philip. He deserved a greater love than she could ever offer and Helen would be so right. It made her wonder why she had never thought of bringing them together before. Philip with his flamboyant personality and Helen with her love for a gay social life. They should go well together.

At one o’clock as they prepared to leave, Helen invited Philip to come again, then turned to Laura, her face glowing. ‘He’s all you said he was, and more. I wish you’d brought him before.'

‘I didn’t arrange it today,’ smiled Laura. ‘He invited himself. But I’m glad he did—for your sake.' She was glad too that she had never told Helen that Philip had asked her to marry him. Now Helen need have no qualms about developing a friendship with Philip.

Outside in the car Philip tried to look as though nothing had happened, starting the engine and heading out towards the suburbs.

‘Philip!’ said Laura hesitantly, after they had travelled a few miles in silence. ‘There’s no need to wait. I can give you your answer now and I think you know what it will be.’

‘I'm not a mind-reader,’ he laughed, but she noticed the way his fingers tightened their grip on the steering wheel as he waited for her to continue.

‘Then you should be. I told you once my answer was no, and it’s still the same. I haven’t changed my mind.’ She heard his breath whistle softly through his teeth, his fingers relaxed their hold. Philip did not realise that she had observed his reaction, but it gave her the proof she needed.

‘You’re not saying that because of—Helen? I know how it must have seemed to you, but it makes no difference. I’ve asked you to marry me and—’

‘No, Philip, I couldn’t marry you. Not loving Brad. It wouldn’t be fair.’

‘If you’re sure that’s your only reason? I must admit I find Helen very attractive, but I’m a man of honour. You should know that.’

‘I appreciate your kindness, Philip.' Laura laid a hand on his arm. It would never do for him to know how near she had come to saying yes. ‘And I hope you’ll find true happiness with Helen.’

He gently squeezed her hand. ‘Thank you. You’re quite a girl. Brad doesn’t know what he’s missing.’

Over their meal he confided how much this meeting with Helen had affected him. ‘I’ve never felt like this over anyone before,’ he admitted. ‘I thought I loved you —indeed I still do—but this is different.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Laura sympathised. ‘It’s happened to me, don’t forget. We don’t ask to fall in love. One moment there’s nothing and the next, wham, you’re in love up to your neck.’

‘I only wish you had as much chance with Brad as I appear to have with Helen,’ he said ruefully. ‘I feel guilty at being so happy.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Laura, absently stirring her coffee. ‘Snatch your happiness while you can. I’ll be all right. I shall probably look for another job when Helen leaves the clinic. If she remains in London I don’t fancy being alone with Brad in that great house.’ Not if he continues to be unfriendly, she added to herself. A few kind words are all I ask. It would be sufficient to keep me there—fool that I am to even think of it.

After Philip had taken her home Laura found difficulty in settling to any work. Their conversation had crumbled her carefully built defences. For the first time in ten days she was tormented by thoughts of Brad.

Listening to his voice on one of the tapes she burst into uncontrollable tears.

‘Why do I have to love you?’ she whispered aloud.

Without warning she felt the earphones being lifted from her head and a large soft handkerchief thrust into her hand. A chill ran down her spine. There was only one other person who had a key to the flat. Had he heard her involuntary words?

SLOWLY Laura lifted her head and through her tears saw a misty outline of Brad, tall and forbidding. Her first impulse was to fling herself into his arms, confess that it was he she loved. But then the memory of their last meeting returned. Humiliation that he had caught her in this moment of kindness took its place and in her discomfiture she took refuge in anger.

‘How dare you enter without knocking? Surely I’m entitled to a little privacy?’ She rose and faced him, dabbing angrily at the tears which still fell.

In the face of this onslaught his thick brows drew together,, his jaw tightened. ‘I did ring, but as I got no answer I assumed you were out.’ He paused, his voice changing subtly. ‘I’m sorry if I interrupted something. Would you like a shoulder to cry on? I told you no man’s worth breaking your heart over.’

Without stopping to think that he really might be feeling sorry for her, Laura read only derision in his words. Completely oblivious to the fact that he was her employer, or what the consequences of her rash action might be, she lifted her hand towards his face. Instantly her arm was caught in a vice-like grip.

‘Let me go.’ She tried to twist free but to no avail. The more she pulled the tighter his grip became and now he was actually laughing.

‘You’re quite a little firecracker, you know that? What’s the matter? Don’t you like me finding out your secret?’ His face loomed ominously close, dark eyes alight with mockery.

Completely incensed, Laura sank her teeth into his hand. ‘Why, you little—' he gasped, but she was free and far too indignant to realise what she had done.

‘If it will make you feel any happier,' she blazed, ‘Philip has asked me to marry him—so please don't waste your sympathy.'

His eyes narrowed. ‘You don't exactly give the impression of a happy bride to be.'

‘Oh, go to hell and take your damned job with you.’ The words were out before she could stop them. He looked at her in stunned silence, then swiftly turned on his heel. The next moment she was alone.

Her legs trembled so violently she could hardly stand. Crossing to the drinks cabinet Laura poured herself a brandy, then limply subsided on to the nearest chair.

Do you know what you've done? she rebuked herself. You've just talked yourself out of a job and a home. The best job you're ever likely to get. Now what are you going to do?

The effects of the brandy steadied her thoughts and the dreadful consequence of her heated action hit Laura with full force. She could apologise, she supposed, beg his forgiveness. But no, her chin came up determinedly, she couldn't ask any favours. She realised that she had been extremely rude, but a stubborn pride held her back. She may as well go now—make a clean break of it. To stay would only end up in more heartache.

Tomorrow she would look for rooms and then ask Mrs. Jennings to send the rest of her clothes on. Fortunately she had not touched last month's pay cheque, so she would have sufficient money to see her through until she found another job.

Unable to face the thought of food Laura retired early to bed. Staring at the ceiling, her hands folded behind her head, she wondered what had prompted her to tell Brad about Philip’s proposal. As before she had deliberately led him to believe that there was something between them. Why, she could not imagine, except for a crazy impulse to hit back when he needled her. He would never know how much she wanted to feel his arms about her, to enjoy the ecstasy of his kisses and hear his whispered words of love. It was a dream that would never come true. She was best away from him.

She had at one time thought it would be sufficient to be near him, content in the knowledge of her love, but now she knew that this could never be so. Her love had made her more vulnerable and his harsh words hurt her deeply. Although Brad was not aware of this fact, her true feedings carefully hidden beneath a facade of indignation, she knew she would be unable to keep up this hostility—sooner or later her true feelings would show through. She shuddered at the thought of his amusement, his patronising manner when he discovered she had followed in the same footsteps as her predecessors. It wouldn’t be long after that before he would ask her to leave. She could see it all too clearly. Mrs. Jennings’ words, that they either left of their own accord or were sacked, returned vividly to her mind. It was far better that she left now, like this, than have to suffer the ignominy of being fired.

She slept fitfully, waking in the early hours with a throbbing headache. Recalling that she had seen a bottle of aspirin in the bathroom medicine cabinet, Laura padded through and swallowed two tablets down with a glass of water.

The lounge clock said six-thirty. She deliberated whether to go back to bed or take a shower and begin sorting out her things. There was Brad’s work also to be put in order, and a half-finished tape to be typed. No matter how she felt, her conscience forbade her to leave without completing the work he had given her.

She had bathed and dressed, eaten a light breakfast of toast and tea and was nearing the end of her typing when the doorbell rang, loud and insistent. Whoever it was he sounded impatient. Probably Philip, she thought, wanting to make sure I’m up. He must be eager to see Helen again.

She withdrew the bolts and opened the door, her mouth falling open and colour staining her cheeks when she saw Brad. Why had he come? To tell her that she was to leave today? What other reason could there be for such an early visit? It was just after eight.

Unsmiling and tight-lipped he faced her.

‘C—come in,’ she said at last when it became clear that he was waiting for her to speak. 'I—I’m just finishing off your work.’

'I don’t think that will be necessary,’ he said, following her into the lounge.

She looked round quickly. His eyes were hard like chips of granite. Laura’s heart sank. So he wanted her to go immediately. He must hate her very much. Yet his voice had been kind. There was no hint of aggression in the way he spoke.

Their eyes met for a second before she wavered and looked away, but not before his discerning gaze noticed her wan face and shadowed eyes.

‘You slept badly.’ It was a statement, not a question.

Laura shook her head briefly. 'I have a headache, that’s all.’

He looked across at the half-finished page in the typewriter. The completed work neatly piled to one side, then back to Laura who waited, wondering what to expect.

‘Sit down,' he said shortly. Laura obeyed automatically, as though she were a puppet and he held the strings.

‘I realise that you may have acted hastily last night,' he said, pacing up and down in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back, ‘and in a way it was my fault for walking in on you as I did.'

What was he getting at? thought Laura curiously, wishing he would come to the point.

‘But you do realise that you’re still under contract to me? I’m sure you’re not a woman to go back on her word.' He looked at his hand. She could see the marks where her teeth had drawn blood. ‘So I’m prepared to forget what happened. You will carry on until the end of your three months. After that you may leave or stay as you wish.

Laura looked at him, amazed. To be honest with herself she hadn’t given her contract a second thought, but the condescending way Brad now spoke made her blood boil. If he thought he was doing her a favour by agreeing to forget her behaviour, he could think again. She would stay, of course, until her contract expired, but not a moment longer.

‘Very well, Mr. Stuart,' she said woodenly. 'I'll stay until the end of December, but after that you’ll have to find yourself another secretary—and—’ she twisted her fingers together nervously, I’m sorry for being so rude.' She did not feel like apologising after the way he had spoken, but as he himself had attempted to make amends she felt it was the least she could do.

He appeared to be surprisingly pleased by her words, though she was not sure whether it was the fact that she was staying, or leaving at the end of the year, that pleased him.

‘Good, that’s settled. Now, do you think you could make me a cup of coffee? Then we’ll be on our way.’

'I'll make you a drink,’ she said, ‘but I’m sorry, Philip has arranged to pick me up at nine.’ She was glad of the excuse. The close intimacy of a car journey, no matter how short, was one thing she wanted to avoid at this moment. Although he had agreed to forget her rudeness there would inevitably be a strained atmosphere, so the less they were thrown together the better as far as she was concerned.