Dangerous Enchantment

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DANGEROUS ENCHANTMENT Anne Mather

Why do some women always manage to fall for a man who they know from the start can never be any good to them? Julie Kennedy, like most girls, had hero-worshipped the famous television singer Manuel Cortez from afar, but it had never entered her head that she might meet him, let alone that he would show an interest in her. But it all happened, and before she knew where she was Julie had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Hopelessly -because, as she well knew, to Manuel she was just another in a long line of adoring women, never to be taken seriously, never to last long. Her head told her she must break away from him or regret it bitterly -but her head had no control over her heart . . .

CHAPTER ONE JULIE studied her reflection critically in the mirror of her dressing table and gave a half-rueful smile. She was ready, and she hoped she would not let Paul down. Tonight was important to him, and she wanted to please him. Her dress, white lace over pink taffeta, Complemented her creamy complexion, and was short, revealing a slender length of shapely leg. Her eyes, brown with tiny green lights in them, sparkled at the prospect of the evening ahead of her, and she cupped her chin cm one hand as she wondered why tonight seemed so full of promise. Her bedroom door opened after a light tap, and her mother came into the room. She smiled, appreciatively, and said: 'Are you nearly ready? Paul is waiting downstairs impatiently.' Julie rose to her feet and turned round. 'How do I look?' Her mother studied her for a moment. 'Very nice. But don't you think you ought to have had an evening dress? Paul is wearing a dinner jacket, you know.' Julie shrugged her slim shoulders, and the swathe of straight light chestnut hair swung softly against her flushed cheeks. 'I'm sure this will be all right,' she said, shaking her head. 'In any case, Mum, I haven't an evening dress.' 'I know, darling, but maybe we ought to have tried to get you one.' Her mother looked anxious. 'Don't be silly,' Julie smiled warmly at her mother. 'Darling, it is only a staff dance, and nowadays nobody wears formal clothes.'

Her mother sighed, sure that Julie was only saying that to spare her feelings. 'Very well,' she said, sighing. 'But I'm sure a long dress would be more suitable.' She sighed. 'One thing is certain, though. Paul would think you looked nice in anything.' Julie laughed, and hugged her mother, and then picked up the red velvet evening coat which was lying on the bed and preceded her mother down the stairs. Paul Bannister was standing in the lounge, drinking a glass of sherry which Julie's father had provided him with. In an evening suit he looked handsome, his fair good looks and tall slender build accentuated by the darkness of his clothes. Dr. Kennedy, Julie's father, was sitting relaxed and comfortable in a deep armchair, smoking a cigar and discussing a recent case with Paul. Dr. Kennedy was a doctor with a general practice here in Kensington. Paul was attempting to look interested, but his eyes lit up as Julie entered the room, her coat about her shoulders. Dr. Kennedy smiled, and rose to his feet. 'Well, Julie,' he said warmly, 'you're a sight for sore eyes and no mistake. What do you think, Paul?' Paul shook his head. 'I think she looks marvellous,' he said, with all the fervency of youth, and Julie's parents exchanged a knowing glance. Julie, sensing the parental interest, seized Paul's arm determinedly. 'Come on,' she said, 'let's go.' Paul drove a small Austin and he helped Julie inside before walking round the bonnet and sliding in beside her. Giving her a swift kiss, he said: 'I know I'm going to be the most envied man there tonight.' Julie chuckled. 'Really! That's not very modest.'

Paul stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then sighed. 'Oh, you're mocking me again. You know what I mean!' She laughed. 'Oh, Paul, I must stop teasing you.' She lay back in her seat as Paul threaded his way through the London traffic towards Earl's Court. It was a little after seven-thirty and the roads teemed with cars. But Julie felt singularly content, and very lucky. Here she was, twenty-one years of age, and on her way to spend the evening with a handsome young man who was obviously in love with her. She had a secure and happy background, and what more could any girl ask for? If her own feelings for Paul were a little bit nebulous at the moment, they would change, and she had no doubts that in the fullness of time she and Paul would marry and get a house in one of the new developments in the suburbs, and eventually raise a family of their own. Paul's job was exciting, too. He worked for an independent television company, and although at the moment his work seemed to encompass a variety of duties, as he grew older and more experienced, he would very likely be able to gain a more palpable position. He was clever, if a little studious sometimes, and she had no doubt that his efforts would not go unrewarded. But money, to Julie, was unimportant compared to happiness. Her parents had never been well off, but she had never lacked for love and companionship, and these were the important things! Paul's obsession with gaining a better job with more money was no doubt due to his desire to marry and settle down, and be able to provide a good home for his family, but Julie hoped that was all it was. She had attended a boarding school, despite the monetary difficulties, and had witnessed plenty of heartbreak amongst girls with far more money than herself. Their parents, for example, had never attended open days, and when holidays came around they were sent off on cruises with only nannies to keep them

company. Julie had appreciated the welcome she received from her parents, and their obvious delight in having her home again. When she left school, she had decided to work in a large store in Oxford Street. She liked meeting people, and it was through her work she had met Samantha Edwards. Samantha was now her closest friend. She had come into the Cosmetics Department where Julie worked for make-up and perfume, and then discovered that she and Julie had attended the same school, although Samantha was a couple of years older, and the daughter of a merchant banker. Her parents were divorced, and Samantha herself was now married to an artist called Benedict Barlow. Thinking about artists brought Julie back to tonight's festivities. It was the annual staff dance at Phoenix Television, and naturally Paul had wanted to go. Julie was looking forward to it. As it was being held at the studios she was curious; she had never been inside a television studio before. Phoenix Television stood in its own court off Warwick Road, and it did not take Paul long to drive there. Within the area gates was a huge car-park and it was here, among an assortment of cars large and small, that Paul left the Austin. It was a cold October evening, and Julie hugged Paul's arm as they crossed to the welcoming lights of the huge building with Phoenix Television neon-lighted somewhere near the top. Inside a doorman admitted them, checked their invitations, and then directed them to a lift which whisked them up to the twelfth floor. 'A whole floor has been given over to our largest studio,' said Paul, in explanation, 'and it's there they're holding the dance. Plenty of room.' Julie nodded. They were the only people in the lift, and she hoped they would not be the first to arrive. The invitation had said

seven-thirty, but as the food was to be provided by a buffet, there was no deadline. She was just about to ask Paul whether it would perhaps be better if they delayed their arrival when the lift stopped with a jerk. They had reached the twelfth floor. Music was the first thing Julie noticed. The band sounded wonderful and she shed her doubts about their early arrival and followed Paul along a corridor which was thronged with people. At the far end a huge hall awaited them, and despite Julie's fears it was obviously well on the way to being crowded. Everyone was drinking and laughing and talking, and there was a welcoming air of camaraderie. A friendly attendant showed Julie the way to the ladies' powder room, where she could leave her coat and attend to her make-up. It, too, was crowded with women, all expensively garbed and jewelled. Diamonds flashed on ears and throats and fingers, and Julie fingered her silver bracelet, which was her only adornment, tentatively. She owned very little jewellery, and had not thought to ask her mother to lend her a necklace. Shrugging her slim shoulders, she made her way to the door again. It was no use worrying now; she must just hope she looked all right as she was. Back along the corridor Paul was waiting for her impatiently, but he was not alone. With him were another young couple whom he introduced as Larry and Jane Chandler. 'Larry works here, too,' he explained to Julie. 'He and Jane have only been married three weeks.' 'Have you? How marvellous!' exclaimed Julie enthusiastically. Jane smiled. She was a pretty redhead, with an engagingly piquant face. 'Yes, Julie. And now we're going round all our friends recommending it.' She glanced archly at Paul. 'Haven't you thought of taking the plunge yet, Paul?'

Paul smiled. 'Several times.' He looked at Julie. 'Especially during the last few months.' Julie flushed and changed the subject. For all her gentle imaginings earlier in the evening, she was not quite ready yet to forsake her freedom and settle down to married life with Paul. Always, when it came down to it she felt a strange cautioning feeling deep inside her, as though she were not quite sure yet of her feelings for him. Maybe she was expecting too much, she thought. After all, she was very fond of Paul, and knew he would make a marvellous husband. He was considerate and kind, and liked children. But somehow she was afraid. At the far end of the hall, spread out on several long tables which seemed to be groaning under the weight, was the buffet. There was every kind of food imaginable, from lobster pates and caviare to meat balls in savoury mushroom gravy, served in deep little bowls with wooden spoons. There was plenty to drink, too, and as it was provided free by the company, there was no shortage of takers. Staying with the Chandlers, Julie and Paul found a vacant table near the dance floor, and ordered Martinis from a white-clad attendant. The band was accommodated on a dais at the opposite end of the hall from the buffet, and tables had been set all along the side of the floor. Adjoining this hall, was a smaller area, screened off and available for anyone who wished for a little more privacy. Discreet lighting made the cavernous studio into an Aladdin's cave, and the brightly coloured dresses and sparkling jewels added an air of festivity. Paul smiled round. 'We've made quite a good turnout, haven't we?' he said, and Larry grinned, as though amused by Paul's identification of himself with the company.

The girls talked about clothes, and the latest James Bond film, and later Paul took Julie to meet a couple of producers and their wives with whom he had worked, and Julie felt a little disturbed by Paul's obvious pride in herself. They returned to Larry and Jane, and as quite a lot of people were dancing now, Larry asked Julie whether she would dance with him. Julie agreed, and Paul followed suit and asked Jane. Afterwards they exchanged partners regularly, and made the evening more enjoyable. Larry and Paul were both good dancers, and between dances the girls talked together and listened to the boys talking shop. Jane grimaced, and said: 'Have you noticed how people in television think there's no other kind of existence?' she laughed. 'Be warned, Julie. If you marry Paul, you'll have to suffer this kind of thing every time you meet a colleague. Can you stand it?' Julie flushed. 'I don't know. Is it to be recommended?' 'Well, that depends on the man.' Jane frowned, and leaned towards her. 'I think Paul is an awfully nice boy.' 'Yes, so do I,' murmured Julie slowly, wishing she felt more certain of herself, and her feelings. Once while she was dancing with Larry, he said: 'Old Paul certainly knows how to pick them. When are you going to get hitched?' Julie had to smile. 'It's not definite yet,' she prevaricated. 'Tell me, what do you do here? Are you on the production or presentation side?' 'I'm assistant to the producer's right-hand man,' he replied, chuckling. 'Sort of dogsbody's dogsbody.'

Julie laughed, too. 'Still, I suppose you meet all sorts of exciting people, don't you? There are always heaps of stars appearing.' 'I meet some of them,' admitted Larry, nodding. 'But my work doesn't encompass all the studios, and naturally there are people coming and going who I never get to see.' The evening wore on. They had supper together, and several other couples stopped to chat for a while and then drifted on. It was a friendly affair, and there was no consciousness of boss and employee. Jane and Larry left them for a while as Larry wanted to introduce his wife to his immediate superior, and Paul got himself and Julie another drink. 'Enjoying yourself?' he asked, offering her a cigarette. Taking it, she nodded. 'Very much. Are you?' 'Yes, I am rather. Larry and Jane are a nice couple. I'm glad we palled up with them.' Julie smiled. 'Where is your boss, anyway, Paul? You know, Mr. Parrish, the qne you're always quoting to me.' Paul smiled now. 'Don't be facetious. Actually, he never comes to these affairs. Someone has to keep things ticking over while this jamboree is going on, and Mr. Parrish does just that thing. You realize there are programmes being transmitted this evening, don't you?' 'Of course. I never thought of it.' Julie drew on her cigarette thoughtfully. 'It always seems so exciting, television. I mean, there's never a dull moment. At any time you might meet your favourite film star, or some comedian or singer you admire. I think I should like to work in television myself.'

Paul grinned. 'Apply for a position. They can only refuse you.' Julie shook her head. 'No, I'm not all that keen, I don't think. And anyway, I like my work at the store. If I changed at all, it would be to something entirely different; like nursing, or looking after children, or something like that. Sometimes I wish I'd become a nanny. I should like to take care of some of these children whose parents don't give a damn about them except to see that they're fed and watered, and dressed in pretty clothes.' 'Marry me, and we can raise a family of our own.' Paul's face was earnest, and Julie was sorry she had invited this. 'Give me time, Paul,' she pleaded. 'Look, who's that who has just come in? It looks like ... it is! Manuel Cortez. Oh, Paul, I love his music. You didn't tell me he was doing a programme for Phoenix!' Paul had risen to his feet, his face flushed. 'That's Mr. Parrish with him,' he said, in a voice that sounded slightly awed. 'Good heavens! I never thought to see him come here.' Julie rose also, glancing strangely at Paul. 'Why do you suppose he has come?' 'To show our distinguished visitor around, I suppose. How the staff of Phoenix Television take their leisure.' His voice sounded normal again. 'I forgot about Manuel Cortez' programme, though. I know you're a fan of his. Attractive man, isn't he?' Julie nodded. 'Very. He probably knows it, too. A man in his position couldn't fail to be aware of his assets.' Paul shrugged. 'Come on, let's get a drink. Mr. Parrish won't have any time for me tonight.'

But in this he was wrong. As they passed the arched entrance on their way to the buffet, Neil Parrish hailed his young assistant jovially, as though he too had been imbibing rather freely. 'Well, Paul, enjoying yourself?' Paul's expression became annoyingly subservient, and he smiled ingratiatingly. 'Very much, thank you, Mr. Parrish. Are you joining us?' 'Afraid not.' Neil Parrish glanced at his companion. 'You know Senor Cortez, don't you, Paul?' 'Yes. Good evening, senor. Have you finished the show now?' Manuel Cortez nodded, his eyes on Julie, and Julie, conscious of his scrutiny, returned his gaze coolly. She was used to the bold glances men cast in her direction. But Manuel Cortez was not quite like them, she had to concede. To begin with he was a very attractive man, tall and lean, his dark face dominated by tawny tiger's eyes which were enigmatic in his appraisal. His dark hair curled down to his collar and side-burns, which Julie had personally always abhorred, darkened his already swarthy complexion. He was dressed in a dark lounge suit and when he moved he had a sinuous feline grace which was purely sensual in its appeal. His mouth, too, was rather sensual, and Julie felt a kind of breathless suffocated sensation, as his eyes met hers, causing her to drop her lids defensively. Linking her fingers tightly together, she became aware that Paul was still talking to Neil Parrish about something, and a moment later she was drawn forward and introduced first to Parrish himself, an elderly man with greying hair, and then to Manuel Cortez.

When Manuel Cortez spoke, his voice with its American accent tinged with Spanish was soft and husky, and Julie's stomach was now behaving very peculiarly. 'How do you do, Miss Kennedy,' he said lazily, and she felt his cool hard fingers curve for a moment about hers. 'Tell me,' said Julie, casting about in her mind for something to say, 'I've always been curious, are you Mexican or Cuban?' Paul looked at her aghast, but Manuel Cortez did not seem to mind. 'Mexican,' he replied smoothly. 'But my home is in California.' 'I see.' Julie nodded, and felt rather stupid. After all, what was it to her where he lived? But she had always admired him, and his records were very popular over here as well as in the States. He could play practically any instrument, and often sang with a guitar, the kind of sad, Indian-type songs that went down so well. Julie knew little about him except these facts and the obvious one of his being rather too expensive to appear on British television very often. She had seen him as a guest on various American shows which were shown in this country, and she had bought some of his records because they were good to listen and dance to. She imagined he must be about thirtyfive, though there were lines on his face she could see now which did not appear on the television screen. But they did not detract from his attraction but rather added to it. Paul asked Neil Parrish whether he would stay and have a drink, but Parrish shook his head, and then they were joined by some of the bigger fry of Phoenix Television, who had just noticed that Parrish was there, and who was with him. Parrish protested volubly that he had not time to stay and that Manuel Cortez was just leaving, but in the general chatter it was difficult for them to leave. Paul and Julie,

who now seemed superfluous, drew back to the buffet tables and Paul said, 'Isn't it sickening? One can't have a private conversation without being invaded by the mob!' Julie smiled, but she glanced back a little regretfully to the group. For some reason she felt rather depressed suddenly. It had been an exciting interlude talking to Neil Parrish, and Manuel Cortez was such a personality. She sighed. 'I suppose everyone wants to meet Manuel Cortez,' she said reflectively. 'After all, it's not every day he's around.' She smiled up at Paul. 'Darling, don't be. such a misery! You said we weren't very important^ remember?' 'I never said that.' 'Oh, no,' she laughed, 'it was Larry. He said he was a dogsbody's dogsbody.' 'Did he?' Paul was aloof. 'Well, I'm afraid I take my work a little more seriously than that, Julie.' 'Paul, don't be silly,' Julie shrugged her slim shoulders. 'Shall we dance?' 'I'm hungry,' said Paul bluntly. 'I don't want to dance just now.' Julie gave a helpless movement of her shoulders. In this mood Paul was impossible. Somehow she had aroused his indignation; she wondered why he was so touchy about his work. Maybe he tried too hard.

She forced herself to eat a few canapes, but the music was infectious and as the younger members of the guests had monopolized the floor now with their weird dances the music grew more and more exciting. Sipping a glass of champagne a few minutes later, they were joined by of all people Neil Parrish. Paul brightened immediately, but Parrish did not seem to be in the best of tempers. 'Bannister! Can you go down to the reception and ask Mr. Cortez' chauffeur to wait in the downstairs lounge? It seems that Mr. Cortez will not be joining him as soon as we expected.' Julie wondered why Parrish didn't just use the telephone himself, but Paul did not seem to see anything unusual in the request. 'Of course, Mr. Parrish,' he said. 'Excuse me, Julie. I won't be long.' 'All right,' said Julie, and when Paul had gone she glanced at Neil Parrish. 'You look disturbed, Mr. Parrish. Is anything wrong?' 'Not wrong exactly, but I'm afraid Mr. Cortez has been prevailed upon by certain of my staff who have had, I might say, rather too many champagne cocktails to stay and join the party, and he, being the charming man he is, has agreed to do so.' Julie smiled to herself. Mr. Parrish did not sound at all happy about his increased responsibility. 'Will you have another drink?' said Neil Parrish now, deciding to shelve his responsibilities for the moment, and smiling at Julie. 'After all, I might as well make the best of it.' Julie nodded. 'Please. Shall we have another champagne cocktail?' In truth Julie was beginning to feel rather light- headed. She had had her two earlier gin Martinis and now she had had a further two

champagne cocktails, and all these On a comparatively empty stomach. But she helped herself to a couple of salmon sandwiches and began to feel a little better. Unable to resist glancing around, she saw that Manuel Cortez was drinking also, and was explaining to his companions some aspect of his work. As though aware of her gaze he looked across at her suddenly, and Julie felt a sense of shock at the almost physical recognition she saw in his eyes. She looked away, but her nerves were jumping. It was apparent that Manuel Cortez found her attractive, and the thought sent her senses spinning. It seemed ages before Paul returned, and Julie was beginning to wonder what was going on. Surely it did not take so long to pacify a chauffeur, even if he needed pacifying in the first place, which seemed unlikely. Neil Parrish danced with her and she supposed she ought to feel honoured, judging by the envious stares she was receiving from the wives of others of the young executives. At least Paul would be pleased, she thought dryly. When they returned to the group near the buffet, she saw that Paul had returned but was being held in conversation by another burly man whom she recognized as one of the producers she had met earlier. Then she became aware that Manuel Cortez was beside her, his lazy tawny eyes rather amused. 'Hello again,' he said softly. 'Will you dance?' 'A ... are you asking me?' Julie was taken aback. It could not be happening! Not to her! 'No one else,' he mocked her.

'All right.' Julie glanced across at Paul, whose eyes had been drawn to her when Manuel Cortez spoke to her. Shrugging, she allowed Manuel's hard fingers to encircle her wrist and draw her out on to the dance floor. The music was the deep rhythmic beat of a Top Twenty favourite, but although most of the younger set were dancing individually, Manuel drew Julie close against him, his hand in the small of her back, white his other hand linked with hers at their side. Julie was quite a tall girl, but he was still almost a head taller than herself, and they moved slowly, seemingly unaware of the rest of the dancers. It was the kind of sinuously sedating music that affected the senses almost unconsciously, and Julie had to force herself to remember where she was and who was watching them. But she had never danced with anybody like Manuel before, nor had she met anyone quite like him. There was something wholly magnetic about him, primitive and animal, that made her whole body alive to his touch. She tried to mentally shake herself. This was Manuel Cortez, a Latin-American, who had not reached his present age without finding out how easy it was to attract the opposite sex. To him she was just another attractive female; nothing special. 'What was your name?' he asked, his mouth near her ear. 'Julie? Is that right?' 'Yes.' Julie's tone was unresponsive. 'And what do you do, Julie? Do you work for Phoenix?' 'No. I work in a store in Oxford Street,' she replied stiffly. 'Hey,' he drew back and looked down at her. 'What's wrong?' he frowned. 'Didn't you want to dance with me?'

Julie bit her Hp, and then smiled suddenly. 'Of course I did. But it's difficult to relax when you know the whole community is watching you, speculatively.' 'Is that so?' Manuel glanced around. 'So what? Let them stare. I'm used to it.' 'Yes, but I'm not.' Julie missed a step and stumbled ignominiously. 'You see!' she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. Manuel smiled down at her. 'Come on, then. I'll get you a drink instead.' Julie looked at him. 'You don't have to.' Manuel's face was a little grim suddenly. 'No, I know. I don't do anything I don't want to do.' Julie shrugged, and walked with him across the floor to the bar. He ordered champagne for her and whisky for himself, then offered her a cigarette. After they had both lit cigarettes, he said: 'I guess that guy you came with will be blowing his top just now.' Julie started. For a moment she had forgotten Paul. 'Oh, yes,' she said contritely. 'Perhaps I ought to--' 'Forget it.' Manuel looked bored. 'Stop worrying over other people. Enjoy yourself.' Julie shrugged. 'I happen to care what Paul thinks,' she replied coolly. 'Do you? Are you engaged or something?' 'No, not exactly. But it's understood.'

'I see.' Manuel swallowed his drink decisively. 'Do you like this kind of affair?' 'Why?' 'Well, it kills me. You get guys like Parrish trying to associate with guys like this Paul, and you know damn nicely that come Monday morning it'll be back to status symbols again.' Julie gave him a quick glance. 'That's very cynical, Mr. Cortez.' 'I guess I am,' he said, shrugging. 'Anyway, let's chuck this subject. Do you want another drink?' Julie shook her head, and he ordered another whisky for himself. Swallowing half of it, he continued: 'And don't you get the yen to enter the world of the cornflake commercials?' 'What? Oh, you mean television,' Julie smiled. 'Not really. Besides, what could I do? I don't sing or dance, and I'm not much good on a typewriter.' Manuel smiled, and leaned back against the bar, elbows resting on the counter. 'There are ways and means,' he said. 'A beautiful girl like you shouldn't find it too difficult…' 'If you mean what I think you do, you can forget it,' exclaimed Julie hotly. 'I wouldn't sell myself for television stardom.' 'Women sell themselves for a lot less than that,' remarked Manuel Cortez shrewdly. Julie moved restlessly. 'I think I ought to go.' 'Why? Have I shocked you? Surely not. You must know what goes on.'

Julie refused to answer him. Stubbing out her cigarette, she looked up at him with raised eyebrows, but her haughty expression cut no ice with Manuel Cortez. 'Excuse me,' she said abruptly, and leaving him, she walked swiftly away across the floor. It did not occur to her until she reached Paul and saw his shocked face that she had done anything out of the ordinary. 'Julie!' he exclaimed, in a horrified voice. 'Do you realize what you've done?' Julie flushed. 'Yes. I've just walked away from a man who treated me as though I were little better than a ... a....' She sought about in her mind for a word to use. 'Well, he was most objectionable.' Paul frowned. 'In what way?' 'His conversation. Oh,' Julie sighed irritatedly, 'not only that. His attitude as well. I can't explain exactly.' What she couldn't explain to Paul was that despite his manner she still found him attractive, and that was annoying her more than anything else. 'Could we go?' Paul was looking nervously across at Neil Parrish who had walked across to join Manuel Cortez. He seemed distraught. 'What? Go? Oh, yes, if you want to. In fact I think it might be best.' He pushed her unceremoniously out of the door. 'Goodness knows what Mr. Parrish will have to say on Monday morning.' Julie was reminded of Manuel's remarks as Paul spoke. He had been right, of course, and probably about other things as well.

'Well, why were you so long anyway?' she asked. 'I was waiting ages. I thought you'd got lost.' 'I'll explain when we get to the car. Go get your coat, Julie.' The little Austin was cold and a trifle damp inside, but the heater soon warmed them up. Paul drove slowly now. It was still quite early and Julie's parents didn't expect them home for a couple of hours yet. 'Now, tell me about the chauffeur,' said Julie. Paul grimaced. 'Well, actually, it wasn't just the chauffeur who was waiting. There was this female, you see.' 'A woman? Did you know her?' 'Actually yes. It was Dolores Arriviera, the dancer. You may have heard of her.' 'Oh, yes. Hasn't she been appearing at the Talk of the Town?' 'That's right. Well, she was waiting for Cortez and when I tried to explain what had delayed him she threw the most ghastly tantrum and demanded to be taken up to him at once.' Paul gave a heavy sigh. 'Gosh, I was flummoxed. I didn't know what to do. But Neil Parrish had made it plain that he didn't want her to come up, so there I was. It took me ages to calm her down, and even then she was seething like a wild cat. Lord, she's really something when she's roused!' 'Is she beautiful?' 'Lord, yes! She has very bright hair, almost red but not quite, and she wears it parted Madonna style and caught in a chignon on her neck. Her eyes are like Cortez' himself, Spanish eyes, I suppose you might call them, and she was wearing the most gorgeous mink coat.'

Julie laughed. 'You were certainly impressed! I bet you couldn't tell me in such detail what Jane was wearing this evening.' 'I guess I couldn't at that,' he said, and relaxed a little. 'But honestly, Julie, imagine leaving a creature like that to wait while you attended some dreary dinner dance... or should I say buffet dance!' 'Well, it wasn't exactly dreary.' 'No, but you know what I mean. The comparison, and so on. Still, I guess he knows she's mad about him, and he lets her wait to bring her passion to the boil.' Julie felt a strange trembling feeling in her stomach, and pressed a hand to it suddenly. It must be the amount of alcohol she had consumed, she thought uncomfortably. Although she knew Paul had only been joking, the idea of Manuel Cortez making love to Dolores Arriviera was not a pleasant one, and this she knew deep inside her was the root of her confusion.

CHAPTER TWO ON Monday morning it was back to work as usual for Julie. Not that she minded really. She liked her work as assistant on the cosmetics counter of Fordhams, and the girls she worked with were a friendly crowd. They all wanted to hear about the Saturday dance at Phoenix Television, and during their coffee break they chattered excitedly. When Julie told them that Manuel Cortez had been there for a short while they were amazed. 'Really?' exclaimed Donna, a luscious blonde. Did you get an intro?' 'Darling, I danced with him,' said Julie, allowing all troubled thoughts of Manuel Cortez to leave her mind. 'He's very nice.' 'Danced with him!' said Marilyn Peters. 'Good heavens, Julie, how did you do that?' Julie giggled, beginning to enjoy her notoriety. 'Well, he knows Mr. Parrish, Paul's boss, of course, and he introduced us. Then he asked me to dance. It was quite exciting.' 'And what did you talk about?' 'Did he make a pass at you?' Julie laughed, 'Heavens, no! He had Dolores Arriviera waiting for him downstairs!' They emerged from the cloakroom as Miss Father- stone the supervisor came stamping into the room to see what was going on, and Julie was still talking.

'Paul had to go down to try and pacify her because he stayed on at the dance,' she was saying, as they walked slowly back to their respective counters. 'Paul said she was good and mad, and positively spitting with anger. Paul thought that perhaps he was letting her get so excited that she was doubly passionate when he got to her. Some men like that sort of thing, don't they? Primitive stuff!' Julie, Donna and Marilyn were so engrossed in their conversation that they all but walked into a man who was standing in the centre of the cosmetic department floor which was surrounded on three sides by the three counters of which Marilyn, Donna and Julie were in charge. He was a tall, lean, attractive man, dressed in a dark lounge suit and a thick camelhair overcoat, which accentuated the darkness of his skin. Julie, who was walking between the other two, looked up at him in astonishment, and her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. 'Mr. Cortez!' she all but gasped, and Donna and Marilyn gave a startled exclamation and went swiftly across to their individual counters, from where they watched with painful intensity. Manuel Cortez' eyes were hard as granite as he looked down at her, and she felt her legs turn to jelly. 'Wh... why are you here?' He shrugged. 'That is my affair. But I should be obliged if you would refrain from discussing my private affairs with your ... er ... friends!' His voice was icy and Julie froze. He had heard them as they had been chattering across the floor. But how much had he heard, for goodness' sake? And why was he here anyway? 'Come,' he said. 'We are causing your friends much speculation. I wish to purchase some perfume. Perhaps you can advise me.'

"Of course.' Automatically Julie shifted behind the counter, and said: 'What sort of perfume are you looking for? Something light and fresh for the daytime, or perhaps some musky incense for the night?' Her tone was forcedly impersonal, while she inwardly quaked. 'I want some Parisian perfume,' he said coolly. 'Something essentially feminine; but sufficiently ... how shall I put it? ... aromatic, perhaps!' Julie knew her job and in no time at all she had presented him with a choice of several perfumes, all of which fitted his description. That he was an expert on women's perfumes she was left in no doubt and she wondered how many women he had bought perfume for. He finally selected a huge bottle of 'La Vie Desirable' and asked Julie if she would gift-wrap it for him. As the perfume had cost twenty guineas, Julie was only too happy to do so. As she was wrapping the parcel, Manuel studied her downbent head thoughtfully. Today she was wearing an emerald green overall over her pale blue shift and looked very lovely. Tell me,' he said, attracting her attention so that she looked up at him with her clear blue eyes, 'will you spend this evening with me? Have dinner with me?' Julie was flabbergasted. She stared at him for a moment, and then returned her attention to the parcel. 'And the Senorita Arriviera?' she said quietly. "That, I think, is my concern,' his voice was harsh. 'Well? What is your answer?' Julie passed the parcel across the counter and accepted his cheque with jerky movements.

'I don't think you can be serious, Mr. Cortez,' she said politely. 'And besides, I have a date for this evening.' 'Break it!' Julie's eyes widened and she looked at him again. 'I am not in the habit of breaking dates with Paul,' she said clearly. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Cortez, but I must refuse.' 'Oh, no,' he said, his voice low and angry, 'I do not accept that.' 'Why? Is it so unusual? Do all your women fall over themselves to accept you?' 'Something like that,' he agreed, his voice revealing the temper lying just below the surface. Julie saw with relief that Miss Fatherstone was approaching across the expanse of grey carpet. Their prolonged conversation had convinced her that this was some boy-friend of Julie's come for a chat. 'Well, Miss Kennedy,' she said smoothly, 'have you served this gentleman?' 'Yes, Miss Fatherstone,' said Julie primly. Manuel Cortez turned to the intruder with an angry expression, but Miss Fatherstone, recognizing him, gasped in amazement. 'Why, it's Mr. Cortez, is it not?' she exclaimed. 'Oh, Mr. Cortez, what a pleasure to meet you!' Manuel moved awkwardly. He was used to being recognized, but just now he felt a frustrated kind of fury at the interruption. Nodding briefly, he wished them both goodbye and strode away swiftly towards the lift.

Miss Fatherstone turned to Julie. 'Do you know that gentleman?' she asked, her voice tart again now. 'Yes, Miss Fatherstone. I met him on Saturday night at the Phoenix Television company dance. He had been making a recording for Phoenix and came in to the dance with Mr. Parrish, Paul's boss.' 'I see.' Miss Fatherstone looked at her a little thoughtfully, then shrugging, she walked away, and Julie heaved a sigh of relief. But at lunchtime, in the canteen, with Donna and Marilyn extolling the virtues of Manuel Cortez, she wondered whether she had been foolish in not following her instincts and agreeing to go out with him. 'He was a dish,' said Donna, sighing. 'If he'd asked me, I'd have gone like a shot! Fancy standing him up for Paul. You must be batty!' Marilyn agreed. 'Paul's okay, Julie, but he's not exactly sexy, is he?' 'I don't think I should want him to be,' retorted Julie defensively. 'Oh, I don't know,' said Marilyn. 'Remember, when you marry someone it's for life, and men like Paul don't change. He's rather staid. I like him, but if you marry him I think you'll be making a mistake.' Julie sighed. Although she knew Marilyn was being rather personal, she said nothing. The girls had always been very frank with one another, and were used to discussing personal matters together. It was not true to say that Paul was staid, though, thought Julie, and said so. Donna sighed reflectively. 'Manuel Cortez is hardly likely to be seriously interested, of course,' she remarked. 'And I mean, Julie isn't the kind of girl to agree to an affair.' 'I should think not,' exclaimed Julie indignantly, and that ended the conversation.

That afternoon Julie half expected Manuel to appear again. She had not thought he would be put off so easily, unless his had only been a passing interest. She had been honest when she said she had a date that evening. Paul had invited her to attend a twenty-first birthday party with him, but somehow the idea had lost its appeal. She left the building when the store closed at five- thirty with the rest of the staff. The staff exit was on to a side street, and she left Donna and Marilyn who were hurrying ahead because they wanted to catch the first house at a nearby cinema. In her thoughtful state, she did not notice the low-slung sports saloon parked near the kerb, and was startled when a voice behind her said: 'I'll drive you home.' Julie swung round. It was Manuel Cortez. If she had been surprised earlier in the day to see him she was even more surprised now. She did not realize just how her astonishment widened her blue eyes with their dark lashes, or how appealing she looked in the red leather coat she was wearing. 'That won't be necessary,' she murmured. 'I usually take a bus.' 'And I don't usually do this kind of thing,' he muttered, swinging open the door of the car. 'Get in, or people will think I'm molesting you.' Still startled, Julie complied, sinking down into the luxuriously upholstered seat of the dark green Ferrari. Manuel slid in beside her, a cigarette between his lips and with a swift movement he set the car in motion. Oxford Street was terribly busy at this hour of the day, and for a while concentration on his driving prevented him from speaking. It gave Julie a chance to get her breath back, and she looked at him with curious eyes. She saw the same man as she had seen the previous

evening, and earlier in the day, except that he seemed even more of a stranger now that he had her at his mercy so to speak. She wondered whatever had possessed her to get into the car, despite his commands. After all, she was usually capable of dealing with any emergency, and Manuel Cortez was just a man, for all his popularity and fame. It was not until a few minutes later that she said: 'I don't know whether you know it, but I live in Kensington. This is the Edgware Road; it doesn't lead to Kensington.' 'I know.' He was relaxed now, and she looked angrily at him. 'What do you mean "you know!" You said you would take me home; I believed you.' 'So I will, so I will. But later, I think.' Julie sighed, and then lay back in her seat. After all, what could happen to her? And she had to admit it intrigued her, but her parents were expecting her home soon and they might be worried. 'My parents are expecting me to go straight home,' she said, her voice a tiny bit nervous. Manuel Cortez looked at her. Then he pulled the car in to the side of the road. 'Very well, Miss Kennedy, you go home.' He lifted his shoulders negligently. Julie stared at him in exasperation. 'I don't understand you …' 'I agree with that,' he interrupted coolly. '... and I have no intention of getting a bus home now. You can turn this monster round and take me.' Manuel smiled. 'You are as I remembered you to be,' he said, his accent suddenly pronounced in the huskiness of his voice. 'But

seriously, will you not reconsider your decision to spend the evening with me? It would give me great pleasure to take you to dine at a little roadhouse I have found here, where the food is excellent and the wine quite remarkable for this country of yours.' 'But why me?' exclaimed Julie, shaking her head. Manuel's eyes narrowed. 'You are beautiful, and I like beautiful women,' he said lazily. 'Does that satisfy your ego?' Julie shrugged her slim shoulders. 'It's not my ego that's troubling me.' She compressed her lips for a moment. Whenever would she get a chance like this again? How many girls could count Manuel Cortez as one of their escorts? She would be foolish to turn him down now. 'All right, Mr. Cortez. I'll have dinner with you, but I must telephone my parents first.' 'Very well. You can ring from the roadhouse.' Manuel started the engine again, and Julie shivered involuntarily. Now that the decision was taken she felt nervous again. The White Dragon was quite a new roadhouse, and when the Ferrari turned between its wrought iron gates Julie breathed a sigh of relief. They had not spoken much on the journey, and in the darkness she had felt terrified in case he was merely abducting her for some nefarious reasons of his own. It was ridiculous really, but as yet she did not know him well enough to be sure. The Ferrari dominated the ranks of cars already in the car-park, and Julie slid out, wrapping her coat tighter about her against the onslaught of wind and a fine drizzle which had begun misting the windscreen as they neared the roadhouse. Manuel locked the car, and walking round to her side, slid his arm through has, gripping her wrist. Tonight he was wearing a dark, fur-lined overcoat over his dark suit, and Julie found herself wondering why dark men were infinitely

more physical than fair ones. She glanced up at him, and surprised a smile on his face, and said: 'You think you're very clever, don't you?' His anile widened, revealing the ivory whiteness of his strong teeth. 'Now why should you think that, I wonder?' 'Because it's true. You were determined to date me tonight-why?' 'I was at a loose end,' he said disconcertingly. Then his grip tightened momentarily. 'No woman wafts out on Manuel Cortez!' Julie frowned. 'You mean ... Saturday night? I didn't walk out on you. I just didn't consider your conversation good taste.' 'A lot of the things I do are not "good taste",' he remarked dryly. 'Does that put me down in your book?' 'As I'm quite sure that you don't care one way or the other what I think, I won't answer that,' she replied, and released herself from his hold as they entered the foyer. They left their coats and then the head waiter advised than that a table had been arranged for six-thirty if they would care to have a drink beforehand. A delightful olde-worlde bar opened from the hall, the bar strung with coloured lights, while a roaring log fire burned in the grate, illuminating the wooden seats and carved wooden tables. Without asking what Julie would like Manuel ordered the drinks, while Julie took one of the wooden seats in one corner and warmed her hands in front of the fire. She was not unaware of the limitations of the blue shift dress and said, when Manuel joined her: 'I really ought; to have changed, you know. These are my working clothes.'

Manuel smiled. 'You look all right to me. Did you telephone your mother?' 'Yes. In the cloakroom. I told her I'd run into an old school friend whom I hadn't seen for years. I've asked her to explain to Paul too.' She sighed. 'I don't like lying to people.' 'Then why didn't you tell your parents the truth? Or am I too disreputable to be seen about with?' Julie chuckled. 'Of course not! Actually Dad adores your music. Particularly when you play the guitar. He has a lot of your records.' 'Is that so?' Manuel looked a little bored now, and Julie fell silent. How on earth would she keep him amused? she thought a little wildly. And why had he asked her out? After all, it was quite a price to pay, having to take her out for the whole evening just to satisfy his ridiculous boast! She couldn't believe there was any other reason. The room was deserted apart from a couple of men playing darts at the far end of the bar. It was too early for the bar trade; the cars in the car-park must belong to the diners, she thought idly. Manuel, who had been seated opposite her, rose to his feet and came to sit on the low seat beside her. 'Now,' he said, 'what's wrong? Why so thoughtful? Are you bored?' His nearness disconcerted her. 'Of... of course not,' she denied stammeringly. 'I'm a little bemused, that's all, with the firelight.' His eyes mocked her. 'And you're a little afraid, aren't you?' he murmured. 'Why?' Julie shrugged. 'Why should I be afraid?' she countered bravely.

Manuel raised his dark eyebrows. She noticed his lashes were much longer than her own and thickly luxuriant. Well, I guess because you think I'm going to make love to you,' he replied softly. 'Don't worry, I won't.' Julie, who had felt herself melting at the drawling sound of his voice, stiffened now, and straightened her back and took a swift drink of the liquid in the glass. Then she put the glass down on the table hard and gasped: 'Lord, what was that?' 'A cocktail. My own special recipe. Don't you like it?' 'It's like fire-water!' she cried indignantly. His eyes darkened. 'Very appropriate ... for a man who is partially Indian,' he muttered, his voice cold suddenly. 'Excuse me. I will see if our table is ready.' Julie stared after him. What had she said? She had not known of his ancestry, and besides, what did it matter? She shrugged. Well, at least she knew how to cool him off, she thought, feeling ridiculously like crying. When he returned, however, he was his old urbane self, and she half-wondered if she had imagined the anger in his voice earlier. The dinner was, as he had predicted, delicious, and Julie, who appreciated good food and who suddenly felt starvingly aware of the emptiness of her stomach, ate well. There was a different wine for every course, and a warmed brandy glass with a little of that fiery liquid to complete the meal with their coffee. The restaurant had filled up considerably since their arrival and Julie noticed how Manuel

avoided direct contact with people who would be bound to recognize him. When the meal was over, and they were smoking cigarettes with their coffee, she said: 'Thank you, anyway. I enjoyed it.' 'Good. So did I, surprisingly.' 'Why surprisingly?' 'Wei, I half expected you to be one of those creatures who pick and choose everything that is put before them, and continually watch their figure. Isn't that the usual thing?' Julie smiled. 'Well, as yet I'm lucky. I can eat what I like. Does Miss Arriviera pick and choose?' His expression darkened for a moment, and then he shrugged his broad shoulders. 'Dolores has to watch her weight for obvious reasons; dancers must be very careful.' Julie nodded, and he said: 'Why were you discussing me ... or rather Dolores with your colleagues at work? Are you the kind of girl who tells her friends everything that you do? Will you regale them with stories of tonight, exaggerated, of course, to heighten the illusion?' Julie flushed. 'I don't suppose I shall mention this at all.' She felt very small suddenly, and wished she could explain her reasons for acting as she had; for talking about him as she had done to rid herself of the aching feeling she had felt at the knowledge of his association with Dolores Arriviera. He studied her appraisingly, and then said: 'I believe you won't. Julie Kennedy, you intrigue me.'

'Do I? Why?' Julie's stomach turned over. 'I'm not sure. But you have a very devious mind; perhaps that's it. I don't know. Come, have you finished? We should be leaving.' 'But ... but it's early!' Julie glanced at her watch. It was barely eight o'clock. 'I know, but you forget I have a living to earn. I am appearing in the ten-thirty cabaret at Guardinos.' Julie's heart dropped several inches. She had not imagined what he suggested she should have dinner with him that there was any question of them not spending the whole evening together. She had accepted that it would be an early meal, but even then she had not imagined he would leave her so early. Why, Paul was not calling for her until seven-thirty, and the party at his friend Patrick's would not begin much before nine. She felt an angry resentment at Manuel's highhanded treatment of her, and she rose abruptly to her feet and went to collect her coat from the cloakroom with ill grace. Manuel was standing in the foyer talking to the commissionaire when she emerged, and in spite of her anger she could not quite squash the thrill of pleasure it gave her to know he was waiting for her. The Ferrari was warm and untouched by the elements outside its cosy interior, and Manuel did not immediately start the engine, but looked at Julie instead. 'You are angry,' he said. 'Why?' Julie hunched her shoulders. 'I didn't expect to get bundled home at hall past eight as though I were some kid out late as a special treat!'

Manuel grinned. He had switched on the interior light, and his nearness disturbed her terribly. She had never known a man who by his mere presence created such a furore inside her. She badly wanted to touch him, and have him touch her, and these thoughts made her hot all over with embarrassment and shame. She had never thought herself wanton in any way, but with Manuel Cortez she wanted to be. She wished she were some gorgeous femme fatale, able to get away with that kind of thing successfully, quite unaware that her youth and beauty were far more potent stimulants. 'Do you think I want to take you home?' he asked, softly now. 'Believe me, Julie, I would rather spend the rest of the evening with you, but my agent would have a seizure.' He sighed. 'And tomorrow I have to fly to Paris in the morning, tape a recording for French television in the afternoon, and fly back tomorrow night for Guardinos. You see, I have quite a busy life.' 'I know, I know. And today you were at a loose end.' Her voice was bitter. 'No. Tonight I was to have dinner with Bernard Hoffman,' he said, calmly, announcing the name of a famous impresario. 'But I wanted to have dinner with you. Does that please you?' Julie looked at him sideways, and managed a smile. 'Yes.' 'Good.' Manuel's eyes narrowed and she thought for a moment he was going to touch her, then he switched out the light and turned on the car's powerful engine. The journey back to town was as silent as the journey out, and taking his directions from Julie Manuel dropped her at the end of Faulkner Road. As she was getting out, he caught her hand, and said huskily:

'Will you have dinner with me on Wednesday?' Julie swallowed hard. 'If that's what you want.' 'It's what I want,' he said lazily. 'I'll pick you up from work, okay?' 'Okay. Goodnight.' She watched the tail lights disappear, and then turned and walked slowly down the road to number forty-seven. The houses in the road were a selection of semis and detached villas, and the Kennedy house was detached with the left wing given over to her father's consulting rooms and surgeries. She entered with her own key and went into the lounge where her parents were usually sitting watching television. To her astonishment, Paul was sitting with them, gloomily staring at the screen, and she said: 'Paul! What are you doing here? What about the party?' Paul brightened considerably at her entrance. 'Oh, you know, Julie. I didn't want to go alone, so I rang Pat and told him not to expect us.' He took her coat and hung it in the hall with the familiarity of frequent use and continued: 'Who have you had dinner with? Your mother said some school friend. Do I know her?' Julie, unused to telling even white lies, felt awful. Her parents had always brought her up to be truthful no matter what, and it was difficult to deceive them. But she knew if she told the truth tonight there would be an uproar, and she did not feel she could face it just now. 'Celine Chalmers,' she said firmly, sitting down. 'No, Paul, you don't know her.' 'Oh. And did you enjoy it?'

'Yes, I did, actually,' Julie sighed. 'Is there any coffee going, Mum? I feel a bit lightheaded; we had wine with the meal and I'm not used to it.' 'Oh, yes, and who paid for that?' asked her father, smiling. Julie blushed anew. 'Celine,' she faltered awkwardly. 'I'll go and see about that coffee. Does anyone else want some?' Paul followed her out to the kitchen. 'Julie, is anything wrong? You look strange, somehow.' Julie shook her head. 'What could be wrong?' 'Well, do you mind my being here, waiting for you?' 'Of course not,' Julie was contrite. 'I'm sorry, Paul. I guess I'm just a bit tired, that's all. It's been a long day.' 'Of course.' Paul dropped a light kiss on her forehead, and Julie had to force herself not to flinch away. She groaned inwardly. Oh, lord, she thought achingly, why do I feel like this with Paul, when with Manuel Cortez I longed for him to touch me?

CHAPTER THREE ON Tuesday it was difficult for Julie to pretend she had not seen Manuel again, when Donna and Marilyn began discussing him. it was a nine days' wonder so far as they were concerned, and Julie had to go along with their teasing in good part. But her inner emotions were very different, and she was debating within herself whether or not she ought to be frank with her parents in the matter. The relationship she had with her mother and father was such that she felt very guilty about lying to them, but she was aware how much they Eked Paul, and how they expected Julie to marry him one day. They would not like the idea of her going out with a man like Cortez who was, after all, only amusing himself with her, and was definitely not to be taken seriously. But they had not experienced the sense of excitement and vitality he generated, and which enveloped everyone who came into contact with him. She sighed heavily. If she wanted to go on seeing Manuel, she ought not to make a secret of it. On Tuesday evening she went to a cinema with Paul. He met her from work and they ate at a Lyons' Corner House before making their way to the cinema. Paul, who had not said much to her the previous evening, now told her that Neil Parrish had not berated him for Julie's attitude towards the Mexican singer. 'Actually, he's never even mentioned the incident,' he said, with a certain amount of surprise. 'And that's not like Parrish at all. Usually he delights in having a reason to put you on the spot. I like him, and he's a brilliant man at his job, but sometimes he goes a bit too far.' 'Well, you should stand up to him,' exclaimed Julie. 'He's only a man, after all. Perhaps he might like that; for someone to be honest with him.' Paul grimaced. 'In actual fact, sometimes he scares the pants off me,' he said, and Julie had to smile. It was so near the truth.

When she was getting ready for bed that night her mother came into the room, closing the door, and said quietly: 'Julie darling, what's wrong?' Julie rose abruptly from the stool in front of the dressing table where she had been combing her hair. She was dressed in only a nylon shortie nightie and looked about sixteen. Her mother clasped her hands together as though she felt awkward, and Julie frowned. 'Wrong?' she said, feigning surprise. 'There's nothing wrong.' 'Yes, there is. At least, you've got something on your mind. You've been like this since you came home last night. What did this Celine person say to you?' 'Celine?' Julie shrugged helplessly. 'Well, we talked over old times, naturally.' Her mother looked at her shrewdly. 'Julie! Tell me honestly, was it Celine ... or indeed a woman you went to dinner with last evening?' Julie compressed her lips. She would not tell a direct lie. 'No, Mother. You're right, it was a man.' She looked down at the mother-of-pearl handled brush she held in her hands. She looked up again. 'I'm sorry, Mum. But I knew if I told you you wouldn't understand. You know how you expect me to ... well... me and Paul ...' Her voice trailed away. Mrs. Kennedy sighed. 'Oh, Julie! Surely you know that all we want is your happiness. Good heavens, yes, we like Paul, but that doesn't mean you have to marry him to please us! Heavens above, the way you talk frightens me at times. We want you to many the man you love.'

'Marry, yes.' Julie moved restlessly. 'But what if I told you the man I went out with had no pretensions towards marriage whatsoever?' Her mother looked disturbed now. 'Why? Is he married already?' 'No, that is ---- ' Julie ran the brush lightly over her hair. 'I don't honestly know.' Her mother shook her head. 'Julie!' she said reproachfully. 'Who is it? Do we know him?' 'Not exactly. You know of him.' Julie turned back to her dressing table. 'Don't ask me, Mum, please. If ... if anything comes of it, I'll tell you then.' Mrs. Kennedy was really disturbed now. Julie had never lied to her before, nor had any secrets from her. It was difficult to accept this, and the fact that Julie no longer required her confidence. It made her seem so much-more adult, somehow. She had still seemed their little girl, but now she had a life of her own, a life moreover which she did not want to share with them. Julie, too, felt terrible. Particularly as she had the conviction that what she was doing was dangerous. Manuel Cortez was not a man to be trifled with, and although Julie had had plenty of boy-friends she had never associated with a man as experienced as Cortez. Her mother wished her goodnight and Julie climbed into bed. She heard the telephone ring as she was drowsing off to sleep, signalling a night call for her father, and then she knew no more. The resilience of youth overcame all her problems and she slept soundly.

When she told her mother on Wednesday morning that she would not be home for dinner that evening, her mother gave her a strange glance but did not comment, and as her father was at the breakfast table also Julie was glad. She knew she could trust her mother not to say anything to her father unless she wished itShe had dressed with care in a new Crimplene two- piece of a delicious shade of salmon pink. The skirt was short and straight while the short jacket was double-breasted and scalloped on the neckline. With it she wore her double string of pearls and a beige llama coat, and black accessories completed the ensemble. Her father ran her to work in his car and complimented her upon her appearance. 'Is this for Paul's benefit, lucky chap?' he asked, grinning. Julie shook her head. 'No. I'm going out with friends. Paul is working this evening.' 'I see.' Her father did not see anything unusual in this. Julie wag a popular girl and often went out with other girls. Besides, on Wednesday evenings she usually wont to see Samantha . Donna and Marilyn noticed the clothes, too, and Julie felt convinced they did not believe her when she said she was going to Samantha's for the evening. But it was a Busy day for once in their department of the store, and with Miss Fatherstone on the warpath they'd not have a tot of time for chatter. At last it was five-thirty, and mentally stiffening her shoulders, Julie went down to meet Manuel Cortez. But when she reached the street there was no sign of either Manuel or the dashing Ferrari. What an anticlimax! Julie felt her stomach churn horribly. Had he only been joking with her when he asked for another date? Was this his way of paying her back for her outspokenness?

Donna and Marilyn walked past her calling goodnight, and looking back curiously at her, obviously speculating on her appearance. Julie moved about restlessly. She hated waiting about like this, and she hated the provocative looks she was getting from men who passed by. She waited until a quarter to six and then decided angrily that he was not going to turn up. She felt suspiciously like crying, and chided herself for her stupidity. She ought to have realized he had no intention of seeing her again. She turned decisively and walked swiftly towards the junction with Oxford Street. She would pick up a bus and go to Samantha's after all. She knew she was always welcome there. The Barlows lived in Poplar Square off the King's Road, and had quite a modern fiat which Benedict had leased when his first exhibition paid dividends. Anything would be better than going home, she thought unhappily, aware that in truth all she wanted to do was be alone. Oxford Street was thronged with people. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she thrust her hands into her pockets and was moving into the crowd when she heard her name being called: 'Julie! Julie, wait!' Her heart thumping, she swung round and saw Manuel thrusting his way through the crowds to her side. His hair was ruffled, and the expensive mohair coat he was wearing was flying open, but he was just as attractive as ever, and Julie wanted to fling herself into his arms, so relieved was she. 'Hi,' he said belatedly. 'You're mad, I know, and I'm sorry, but this crazy London traffic; God, it kills me! I've had to park the car somewhere out in the provinces!' Julie laughed. 'Was that all?' 'Sure. Did you think I intended standing you up?'

'Yes.' Julie was too relieved to prevaricate. 'Well, I'm here now. Shall we go? I thought we'd have dinner at my apartment, if that's okay with you.' Julie's hands grew clammy. 'I ... I don't know,' she began. But he was not taking any notice of her. He had grasped her arm and was forging his way through the, crowds of people, taking her with him. Julie saw several looks of startled recognition cast in his direction, but Manuel ignored them all. He had no vanity so far as his work was concerned, she thought inconsequently. The car was parked somewhere near Charing Cross and Julie's legs were aching by the time she had kept up with Manuel's pace for this distance. She was glad to relax- in the luxury of the car, and allow him to take over completely. Manuel handed her a cigarette, lit one for himself as well, and then started the car. 'Crazy place,' he said again. 'How I hate crowds of people!' He glanced at her. 'How about you?' Julie shook her head. 'Well, I love London, but I know its limitations, and I agree it is very busy at this hour of an evening.' 'Busy!' Manuel grunted, and swung the car into the stream of traffic heading for St. John's Wood. 'My apartment is in Lebanon Court,' he said, as they crawled along. 'Do you know it?' His words brought Julie back to the problem of dinner at his apartment. She couldn't very well refuse, not now, and truthfully, she did not want to, but she knew how reckless she was being.

'I don't exactly know it,' she said now, 'but if it's one of those new apartment buildings from where yew can see Regent's Park, then I think I know where you mean.' Manuel nodded, satisfied. 'Yes. I can see the Park from my windows, but then I can see most of London as well.' Lebanon Court was one of those new luxury apartment buildings that stood in its own square of gardens and fountains and statuary, with an entrance as imposing as any luxury hotel. A uniformed commissionaire prevented any undesirable element from entering the building and only people known to him or who could prove their identity were admitted. 'Quite feudal,' said Julie, as the elevator zoomed soundlessly up to the top floor where Manuel's penthouse was situated. 'How nice to be affluent!' Manuel smiled at her, knowing she was mocking him, but Julie could not disguise her gasp of pure delight when she entered the double doors of the apartment and caught her first glimpse of the panoramic view from his windows. It was twilight, and the lights of London were beginning to gleam and glisten all over the town, and from this height it was like looking down on fairyland. There was no noise, no throb of the city as could be felt on the ground below, but simply a majestic peace enhanced by the view. Manuel switched on the lights, dispelling the sense of unreality and revealing this large lounge in all its simple elegance. From the entrance, two wide steps led down into the main body of the room, the floor of which was covered with a dark amber-coloured carpet. Low settees and armchairs, upholstered in dark green leather and leopard skin, punctuated the area before a glowing electric fireplace, while an enormous television-cum-stereogram stood dominating one corner. A bookshelf at the other side of the fireplace was partially

filled with a mixture of music books and paperback novels, and a cocktail cabinet revealed the varied selection of its contents. Julie swung round, taking it all in, and said: 'It's beautiful, but I suppose you know that, don't you?' Manuel lifted her coat from her shoulders, and slung it over a chair by the door. Then he removed his own coat and did likewise, and said: 'I'm glad you like it. I keep an apartment in London because I abhor hotels where waiters are continually trying to do too much for you just because you are famous.' This was said without conceit, and Julie realized he was quite serious when he said he did not like crowds of people. Her father had always maintained that a man who enjoyed his own company could not have much on his conscience. Or have no conscience at all, amended Julie silently, wondering whether Manuel Cortez had brought many women here. Dolores Arriviera, certainly, but who else? The thought sobered her. She had got to keep a clear head about this. Manuel Cortez was a man of the world, not a boy like Paul. A manservant dressed in black appeared from a door which apparently led to the kitchen quarters, and said: 'Good evening, senor. I have prepared everything as you suggested. When you are ready I will serve the meal.' 'Give us a couple of minutes to have a drink and we'll be with you,' said Manuel, nodding, and the man smiled and withdrew. 'Jose,' said Manuel after he had gone. 'He has been with me for more years than I care to remember.' Julie smiled, and sank down on to a low armchair at his suggestion.

'What will you drink?' he asked, going to the cabinet. 'Sherry? A Martini? Something stronger?' 'Sherry would be fine,' said Julie, linking her fingers together meekly in her lap. Manuel handed her her drink, and stood himself, drinking whisky. Then he seated himself opposite her, legs apart, arms resting on his knees. 'You look very attractive tonight,' he said, his eyes lazy. 'That colour suits you.' Thank you.' Julie felt nervous. 'Did you go to Paris yesterday?' 'Yes.' He lay back in his seat. 'Have you been to Paris?' •No, I'm afraid not.' 'Don't you like to travel?' 'OS course. It's not always possible, though. My father is only a doctor. We're not terribly affluent, you know.' 'In my country, to be a doctor is to be very important.' He snapped his fingers. 'What is little to you would be much to my people.' 'Your family ...' Julie flushed. 'Do they live in Mexico?' 'Of course. I have seven brothers and four sisters.' His eyes were intent, and Julie's colour deepened. Does that shock you?' He shook his head. 'It must take very little to shock you, Julie Kennedy. What a narrow little life you must have led!'

Julie bent her head. 'You didn't shock me,' she replied. 'Poverty, as such, is distressing, not shocking. But your family... they are not poor?' 'Not now, no. But they were. In Mexico everyone has a large family. These poor devils know no better, as your people would say. They know nothing of birth control; they take whatever God sends them and are thankful. As it happens, my family have been lucky.. They have me to provide for them, for their children, and their children's children.' He sat up again, as though compelled to startle her. 'I could not read until I was ten years old. There was no one to teach me in our village, so when I was old enough I taught myself. Then I read and read, until my eyes were sore, and I had to go to bed with pains in my head. I taught myself the guitar also, and now, you see, I am rich and affluent, reasonably well educated ... but I do not forget.' Julie sipped her sherry, and accepted the cigarette he offered her. He was very bitter, but that was part of his attrition. She wanted to tell him she didn't care about his background, or his education, it was the man himself who attracted her. Dinner was served in a tiny dining room which opened off the lounge. There was a circular rosewood table and chairs, and place mats of Venetian lace which looked wonderful against the polished wood. Candelabra supplied extra lighting, and Julie wondered how it would look to dine by candlelight alone. King fish salad mayonnaise was followed by a saute of beef Stroganoff, and fresh raspberries and whipped cream completed the meal. Julie sat back, replete, after it was over and sighed half-regretfully. 'That was marvellous! Does Jose do the cooking, too?' 'Yes. I shall give him your compliments.'

Julie smiled. 'He must be an absolute gem.' Manuel's eyes twinkled. 'Shall I tell him that also?' Julie blushed, and looked away. As always he disconcerted her. Coffee and liqueurs were served in the lounge on a low coffee table and Julie took charge of the wafer- thin china coffee pot automatically. Manuel refused coffee, but drank a liqueur before sitting down. The coffee table was placed beside a leopard-skin-covered couch and Julie had had perforce to sit there. She had deliberately avoided the double seating earlier;, but now he seated himself beside her, his collar loosened, the knot of his tie drawn down a little. He lay back, closed his eyes as though he was tired, and Julie drank her coffee nervously, surveying the room again and the blue velvet of the night sky outside the wide windows. His brilliant eyes closed, he looked younger, more vulnerable, and Julie felt her heart thumping a little. She replaced her cup on its saucer, and lit a cigarette from the box which Jose had thoughtfully placed beside her. It was very quiet and peaceful, and after that wonderful meal Julie felt relaxed. Then she became aware that his eyes had opened and he was looking at her out of the corners of than. Immediately she felt nervous, and he said: 'Do relax. Do you like it here? Isn't it more comfortable than some hotel lounge?' 'Yes,' Julie nodded. 'It's lovely. Are you tired?' 'A little, perhaps.'

'Maybe you work too hard.' 'I think I do. But I like my work.' Julie wondered how much time he spent with Dolores Arriviera. She wondered whether the fiery Dolores knew of his other activities; herself, for example. 'What are you thinking about?' His voice startled her. 'Nothing in particular,' she replied, and he shrugged and glanced at the gold watch which encircled his wrist. 'It's seven-forty-five already,' he remarked. 'Time is fleeting.' 'Are you working again this evening?' 'But of course.' He stretched and sat up. Julie tried not to watch him. She had no desire to appear so interested in him, but he aroused her curiosity, and his attraction was not marred by closer observation. There was something untamed about him, his darkness, his foreignness; a kind of primitive beauty. He lay back again, and continued his appraisal of herself. She moved restlessly, unable to stand such mockingly persistent staring. He smiled suddenly. 'You're very beautiful, Julie,' he murmured. 'Did I tell you that?' Julie stubbed out her cigarette without replying, but she did not look at him. 'I like your hair,' he said softly, 'and your skin. It's very fair, and soft and creamy. Julie!'

Julie pretended not to have heard him. Paul never paid her compliments like this. A bashful 'you look smashing' was the nearest he ever got to complimenting her on anything. Manuel rose suddenly to his feet, and Julie almost jumped out of her skin, but Manuel simply walked over to a standard lamp near the television and switched it on, and then walked to the door and switched off the main light which sparkled from a crystal chandelier. The room was infinitely more seductive now, and Manuel was infinitely more dangerous. Julie shivered. He sat down beside her again, closer this time, and pushed the coffee table to one side with his foot. Then he took hold of a handful of Julie's hair, and forcibly turned her face to him. 'Stop feeling so scared,' he commanded her, half angrily. 'You know damn well you want me to touch you, and goddammit, I want to touch you.' Julie felt a pain in the pit of her stomach. Her breath felt as though it was being stifled in her throat, and she felt hot all over. She could smell the scent of his tobacco, and shaving cream, and the clean male smell about him, and she felt as though her whole body had turned to water. Her lips parted involuntarily and then she felt his mouth against hers, hard and firm and passionately demanding. Her back arched as she pressed herself against him, wholly unable to deny the surge of passion which rose inside her to meet his own. She had never been kissed in such a way, long stirring kisses that left her limp and clinging to him, her mouth turning against his neck as his mouth sought her ears and eyes, and the nape of her neck where her hair grew silkily.

She barely realized her whereabouts in those first few exciting moments when nothing seemed to matter except that he should not stop. She was as one drowning in emotion, and it was not until warning bells of a violent kind began ringing in her head that she became conscious of the pressure of his body on hers and of the fact that this was no inexperienced boy she was dealing with. This man had no respect for her sex and no qualms about demanding his will. She struggled up out of a world of soft oblivion into harsh reality, releasing herself purposefully, her breath coming swiftly, her hair tangled and wild about a face completely devoid of make-up. She straightened her suit and smoothed her hair, while Manuel lay where she had left him on the couch, watching her. She knew that had he wanted to he could have forced her to remain where she was, but when she had struggled he had immediately released her. Julie didn't know what to do or say. She was aware that even now she longed for the warmth and protection of his arms, but her brain was functioning again, and it warned her in no uncertain terms of the dangers she was fac- ing and the inevitable outcome should she continue with this alliance. Manuel did not speak, but his eyes were dark and expressionless. Julie glanced at her watch. It was only about eight-fifteen. It seemed hours since they had finished dinner. Manuel shrugged and swung his feet to the ground and stood up. He fastened his shirt, straightened his tie. 'I'll take you home,' he said calmly, and walking across to where he had left their coats, he helped her into hers and then pulled on his own. Julie felt awful. She knew she ought to be feeling relieved that he had made no scene with her, but instead she was the one who felt guilty, and it was not a condition she enjoyed.

They were silent as they went down in the lift, and silent in the car on the journey to Faulkner Road. When the car halted, Manuel turned to her, his arm along the back of her seat. 'Go back and play with the little boys,' he said coolly and simply. 'You're still in the junior league!' Julie compressed her lips to stop them trembling. She felt incredibly young and incredibly stupid. 'I think you're hateful,' she choked. 'Do you imagine every girl you date can't wait for you to make love to them?' Manuel half-smiled, sardonically. 'Darling Julie, don't be so transparent! Do you think I can't read what goes on inside that pretty head of yours? You're just too ... how shall I put it? ... old-fashioned.' His eyes narrowed. 'And besides, I don't like teasing women.' 'I wasn't teasing you,' protested Julie, in horror. 'Weren't you?' He shrugged. 'Okay, leave it there. Just put it down to experience.' Julie put her hand on the door handle and as though relenting, he said: 'If I invited you out again, would you come?' Julie felt mortified. 'I ... I ... I don't know. Are you asking me?' Manuel shrugged. 'Maybe. I won't have time this week, but maybe next. A kind of farewell dinner, you might say. I go back to the States at the end of next week.' 'Do you?' Julie's expression was hidden from him. In truth his words terrified her. She did not know what was the matter with her, but she felt desperately certain that when this man left, she would be more than just depressed.

'Hmm.' He thought for a moment. 'How about next Tuesday? I could pick you up, like tonight, and we could go to the White Dragon again. Right?' 'All right,' Julie nodded, and slid out. Despite this date she was beginning to feel terrible now. The aftermath of the affair in the flat, she supposed, but she felt sick and unhappy, and very near to tears. The car roared away, and Julie walked slowly home. Her mother let her in because after five minutes of searching she couldn't find her key. There was no sign of her father. 'Mrs. Collins is in labour,' explained her mother, ushering her into the lounge. 'Julie, whatever is wrong? Your face is as white as a sheet. Are you ill? Has anything happened?' 'Nothing's happened, but yes, I do feel ill,' said Julie, pressing a hand to her stomach. 'Oh, Mum, I think I'm going to be sick!' And sick she was, violently. Leaning wearily over the basin in the bathroom, Julie wondered whatever had happened to the carefree girl she had been only a few days ago. She felt wretched, and all she wanted to do was to go to bed and lose her anxieties in sleep. Her mother bathed her hot, tired face, put on her nightdress and helped her into the warmed and scented bed, then she turned down the light and left her. Julie lay in the darkness, staring into space. Sleep eluded her, and anyway her mind was too active to allow unconsciousness to overtake her. It was not until the faint light of dawn was touching the sky at about five o'clock that she finally dozed off.

CHAPTER FOUR SHE awoke to the dampness of a wet morning. It was pouring with rain and when her mother came in with an early morning cup of tea at seven-thirty, she said: 'Do you feel well enough to go to work, darling, or would you like to take the day off? I could ring Miss Fatherstone and explain that you were ill last night.' Julie felt like allowing her mother to do exactly that, but she was no coward, and she knew that apart from a faintly queasy feeling in the region of her middle she felt perfectly well enough for work, and staying at home would only be giving in to her emotions. Shaking her head, she drank her tea and said she would be down directly. She was glad she had gone to work when she got. there, for Donna was absent with a severe cold and had she not arrived Marilyn would have had to cope with the work of three. The day passed slowly, and she was inordinately relieved when five-thirty came and they could go home. Paul was coming round that evening. He came round every Thursday and providing Dr. Kennedy was at home they played bridge. Julie had always enjoyed these, evenings, for bridge was a fascinating game and she was becoming quite skilled at it. On Friday evening she washed her hair, while Dr. and Mrs. Kennedy went out to dinner with some friends, and then it was Saturday again, and she went out with Paul. This time they went to a party at Samantha's. The Barlows' friends were, in the main, arty types, either painters or sculptors or theatre

people, and it was always exciting going to their flat as one never knew who one might meet. Samantha Barlow was a tall, slim girl, with long fair hair, which she wore straight like Julie, and blue eyes usually concealed behind horn-rimmed spectacles. She favoured slacks and shirt blouses, and as, at the moment, she was almost six months pregnant, she was wearing maternity slacks and a smock with sleeves in some gaudy purple and red and green design. When Paul and Julie arrived, the place was already quite crowded, but Samantha welcomed Julie like a long-lost relative, and said: 'Darling, where have you been all week? I expected you on Wednesday as usual and you didn't come, and then I thought perhaps you might phone, but nothing!' Paul, who had been borne off by Benedict to meet some budding singer he had just found, was engrossed in other things, so Julie said: 'Sam darling, could we talk, do you suppose? I need to talk to somebody or I'll go mad!' Samantha looked at her friend anxiously. 'But of course, darling. Ben! Ben, look after the rabble. I'm going into the bedroom for a natter to Julie.' Ben, big and broad and sporting a Van Dyck moustache and beard, nodded and shouted: 'Okay, love,' and the two girls went into the bedroom, which in itself was a revelation with its striped purple and white wallpaper and stark black carpet set with a round bed. It was on this that the girls seated themselves, and Samantha said warmly: 'Come on,. ducky. Tell Mama!'

Julie sighed, and with as little prevarication as possible she told Samantha exactly what had happened since their last meeting. Samantha listened, at first surprised, and then incredulous. 'But, darling, Manuel Cortes! It's fantastic!' Samantha stared at her. 'You are very attractive, though, darling, and I hear Manuel is very partial to beautiful women.' 'I know.' Julie's voice was bitter. 'Well, that's that! I had to tell somebody, it's been driving me round the bend these last couple of days.' 'And you're seeing him on Tuesday?' 'I suppose so. If he turns up. If he doesn't, I guess I won't wait as I did on Wednesday. I'm not at all sure I'm doing the right thing by going in the first place.' 'Oh, darling, I don't know what to say,' said Samantha, sighing. 'He is a dish, but a pretty hot one, I would say!' She shrugged. 'At any rate, as you say, he has little respect for our sex - and why should he have, when practically every female in every city in the civilized world goes crazy over him?' She reached into her smock pocket and drew out some cigarettes and offered one to Julie. 'And of course, his marriage was a complete fiasco!' 'Marriage?' interjected Julie, paler suddenly. 'Yes, marriage, Julie. I read his life story somewhere once. Life magazine, I think. He was married when he was about sixteen to some Mexican girl. She had a baby, a girl, I forget what they called her now. But shortly after that he left her and went to San Francisco, and when he became famous he divorced her. At least, it might have been the other way about, I'm not sure.'

'And the baby?' said Julie, in a tight little voice. 'I believe he got the kid. With his money he could afford it. She must be about sixteen now. Cortez is about thirty-three or four, I think.' She shrugged. 'I guess it was one of these forced marriages, you know, pregnant and so on. They never work out ... or at least, only rarely.' 'Yes.' Julie swallowed hard. 'I never knew he'd been married. Or that he had a daughter, of course.' 'Few people do. He keeps his personal affairs reasonably private. He doesn't go out of his way to invite publicity like some stars do.' 'I know,' said Julie, recalling their visit to the White Dragon. 'He doesn't like crowds at all. He has a marvellous apartment... a penthouse that has a magnificent view of London.' Samantha patted her shoulder kindly. 'Oh, Julie, I think if I were you I'd try and forget all about Manuel Cortez. He's not for you. His life, his whole environment, has beat so different from yours, whatever else you might think. And you know perfectly well from the way he has treated you this far that he has no actually serious intentions towards you. A man doesn't try to seduce the girl he's seriously in love with. He respects her.' Julie sighed. 'I know all that is true, Samantha, but somehow I can't get him out of my mind. His life seems to have been terribly hard until he made a success, and I can't help but think that this might be why he has so little respect for our sex. Then this marriage ..She shook her head. 'Who knows what the truth about that might be? It's strange, Samantha, but for all his wealth and fame, I sense he's a lonely man.'

'Oh, come off it, darling,' exclaimed Samantha, in astonishment. 'Manuel Cortez may be many things, but he's certainly not to be pitied.' Julie rose to her feet and walked over to the window, looking out unseeingly. Experienced Samantha might be, but she didn't know Manuel, hadn't glimpsed the man behind the social mask. 'Well?' said Samantha, raising her eyebrows. 'It's up to you, Julie. ButT can't help thinking I know a little more about men than you do.' Julie smiled. 'All right, Sam. I believe you. But I wish I had a blueprint of what to do now.' In this Samantha was unable to help her. She had given her opinion, that Manuel Cortez was not her type, that he was without morals, and more, that he had been married and divorced and had a teenage daughter not much younger than Julie herself, but it did not help. He was just as attractive, and just as dangerous to her peace of mind. In consequence Paul irritated her. His neat, well- brought-up ways began to jar on her. She hated the way he drove with such careful stability; the way he smoked, always holding the cigarette between the tips of his fingers; the way he never drank anything stronger than beer or shandy with an occasional cocktail! It was terrible. She felt torn to pieces by her emotions. Paul's soft hands were so different from Manuel's hard fingers, his tall but well-fed body compared to the lean strength she had felt when Manuel had held her in his arms repelled her now, and his soft mouth aroused nothing but revulsion inside her. On Sunday when she was due to go to lunch at the Banisters' she made the excuse that she felt ill again, and spent die whole day at home. She was bored and unhappy, but she couldn't have borne the

polite chatter she would have had to have entered into at the home of A Paul's parents. Her own parents went out again in the evening, and , she read a book and watched some television to fill in the time. Her whole life seemed to be steering toward Tuesday, and beyond it she refused to think. But when Tuesday came she found she was as nervous as a kitten, and unable to eat or think of anything except Manuel. She knew she was drifting dangerously near a state of mind where nothing mattered but the present, and that she should take what was offered and grasp it with both hands before it slipped forever beyond her reach. She had dressed in a slim-fitting shift of dark blue Courtelle, and was wearing her red leather coat again. She looked young and defenceless, and utterly unaware of her own beauty. But again she was doomed to disappointment. There was no sign of Manuel Cortez, or his car, when she reached the street. It was a cold night. November had crept in gradually, and a slight fog shaded everything to grey. She knew she had sworn not to wait, but she hung about helplessly, praying for deliverance. It came in the shape of a small man in a grey overcoat, a grey bowler. Jose. 'Miss Kennedy,' he said, his eyes smiling. 'I have found you. So sorry to keep you waiting, but the senor, he is ill. He is unable to come this evening. He ask me to explain.' His English was not so good as Manuel's, but Julie did not give it a thought. Her whole being was absorbed by what he was saying. 'He is ill?' she said, frowning. 'How ill? Have you called a doctor?'

Jose shook his head. 'There is no need for the doctor, Miss Kennedy. The senor, he has had the fever before. It ... how you say ... recurs now and again. Jose, he know how to deal with it.' Julie stared at him. 'But I mean ... don't you think…' She halted. 'Can I come back with you, then?' Jose shrugged his shoulders and spread wide his hands. 'I do not think the senor would like that.' 'Never mind what the senor would like,' she exclaimed, making a decision. 'I'm coming. Have you got the car?' 'No, Miss Kennedy. I take the Underground.' 'Very well, then. Let's go.' Jose shrugged again, obviously not too happy with her decision, but unable to prevent her from accompanying him. They walked from the station to Lebanon Court, and Jose had to vouch for Julie's integrity before the commissionaire would allow her to go inside. Now that they were here, Julie's decision was beginning to waver a little. After all, what would she do if it was revealed that Jose's excuses had merely been sent so that Manuel himself need not see her again? This thought had not occurred to her before, and she looked at Jose nervously as they went up in the lift, but he seemed lost in thought. Everything was just as she remembered, and she shed her coat briskly before she could lose her nerve, and said: 'Where is he? Which is his room?'

Jose made a slight sound of protest, and then, as though admitting defeat, he walked across and opened a door, and said softly: 'The senor's room. But I. .. But Julie walked past him and into the room, hearing him close the door silently behind her. She glanced round and saw that he had followed her in and she wondered whether he thought she meant Manuel any harm. The room was furnished in dark woods and dark colours apart from the vivid tangerine of the carpet, and was just pleasantly warm from the central heating system, but die man in the huge six-foot bed tossed restlessly, covered only partially by silk sheets and a couple of blankets, the sweat visible on his brow, and on his bare brown chest. Jose hurried forward and drew the covers over him again, whispering in some foreign tongue to himself, and Julie moved forward slowly to the other side of the, bed. Manuel had obviously not been shaved for a couple of days, for he had a slight growth of beard, and his face was grey beneath the tan. 'Jose,' she whispered, 'are you sure you know what you're doing?' Jose's eyes flashed. 'I love the senor, Miss Kennedy. I would not be here otherwise. I have given him the draught. He will improve. It takes time.' 'How much time? Surely antibiotics would be more suitable.' She sighed as Jose assumed a haughty expression. 'Have you bathed the sweat from his body? Have you changed the sheets?' 'Of course, Miss Kennedy. I changed the sheets this morning.'

'Well, I think they should be changed again,' said Julie, feeling the sheet tentatively. It was a little damp, and as he was so hot, it would be safer to change them. 'Very well, I will see to it.' 'I'll help you....' 'Jose!' Manuel's voice groaned suddenly. 'Did you go to Fordhams? Did you see Julie?' 'Yes, senor. I gave her your message.' 'Good.' Manuel's eyes flickered open momentarily, and then closed again. Julie looked at Jose, who shrugged. 'Occasionally he has moments of lucidity. In the main, he is unconscious until the fever breaks.' Julie shook her head in a dissatisfied way, and turned and marched through a door which she hoped led to the bathroom. Finding this was so she collected a sponge, squeezed it out under the cold tap, and brought it back and laid it on Manuel's forehead. It was icy, and Manuel moved again. Jose compressed his lips. 'You should not interfere, Miss Kennedy. If you will leave us, I will change the bed.' 'I'll help you.' 'No.' 'But why?' Julie stared at him in surprise. 'Surely I can help you?' 'No. The senor would not like it.'

'Oh, very well, then.' Julie turned and marched back into the lounge, closing the door. A few minutes later Jose came out too. 'It is done,' he said. 'The senor is sleeping. He will sleep for some time, and who knows, when he wakes the fever may be gone.' Julie frowned. 'I suppose you think I should go now.' Jose straightened his shoulders. 'That is for you to decide, Miss Kennedy. It is doubtful that the senor will recognize you tonight.' Julie shrugged. 'If I stay, could you provide me with a sandwich? I haven't eaten since lunch time.' 'Very well.' Jose shrugged in apparent disdain and walked away into the kitchen. Julie crept back into the bedroom. As Jose had said, Manuel was asleep now, looking very much younger and vulnerable. She seated herself in a low armchair beside the bed and watched him. It was like a kind of sweet pain, seeing him there, so close and yet so far away. He looked cooler now, and Jose had taken the sponge away and replaced it with an ice bag which he must have had somewhere about and she had not' noticed it. Poor Jose, she thought. She had certainly upset his schedule. When Jose returned, he had brought her a tray and he gestured that she should come into the lounge to eat. Sighing, Julie rose from her seat and did as she was bid. On the tray was half a chicken and some salad, cold vegetables and chipped potatoes, and a fresh fruit trifle with ice cream.

'Oh, Jose,' she exclaimed in amazement, 'I didn't expect all this. I feel awful now. You shouldn't have bothered.' Jose managed the ghost of a smile. 'Nonsense. Enjoy your meal. Just give a call when you are ready for coffee.' He switched on the television as he left, and Julie watched it absently, unable to drum up any interest in a boring quiz programme and a second-rate Western. She drank several cups of coffee Jose provided, refused any liqueurs and thanked him anew. He came back after he had done the washing up and said: 'I wonder. Miss Kennedy, if I might ask a favour of you.' 'Of course, Jose, what is it?' 'Well, I had promised to meet a friend myself tonight, for a drink, you understand, a man friend, and now I will be unable to go. Could you possibly take him a message for me? It is not far from here where we were to meet, but I do not like to keep him waiting.' He smiled. 'It is my cousin, actually.' Julie frowned. 'But, Jose, why don't you go? You could quite easily. I'll stay here for an hour or so, and you can keep your appointment. After all, there's nothing you can do for Mr. Cortez. As you say, he'll probably sleep for quite some time.' Jose was taken aback. He had obviously not thought of this. Perhaps he had seen his message as an excuse to get Julie out of the apartment once and for all. 'I do not know....' He halted. 'The senor may need me.' 'Rubbish,' said Julie firmly. 'I'm a doctor's daughter. I know a little bit about first aid. I'm sure there's nothing I can't handle.'

Jose shrugged. 'Very well, Miss Kennedy, I will go. But only to tell my friend that I am not staying. I should be back in half an hour.' 'Please yourself,' said Julie, half smiling. 'I'm not going to run off with the silver, you know.' Jose smiled. 'Did I sound as though you might? I'm sorry. But I have been very concerned about the senor, you understand?' 'Of course. But stay and have a: drink, Jose. I don't mind, honestly.' 'I will see,' said Jose slowly. 'I will get my coat.' After he had gone, Julie relaxed completely. It was nice to feel mistress, for a while at least, of this gorgeous apartment. She stretched on the couch, lifted a copy of Live and Let Die by Ian Fleming off the shelves, and settled herself for a read. She was warm and drowsy, and somehow content, here, knowing that Manuel was nearby. She must have fallen asleep, for she was awakened by the loud ringing of the doorbell, and someone banging on the door. Hastily sliding off the couch, not waiting to put on her shoes, die hurried to the door, expecting to find Jose on the doorstep, but she could not have been more surprised. A woman stood there, a small, delicately made creature with a glory of red- gold hair and flashing dark eyes. Spanish eyes! Julie remembered Paul's words. This must be Dolores Arriviera! If she was surprised by Dolores Arriviera's arrival, Dolores Arriviera was even more astonished to see her. She stared at her insolently, her eyes sweeping Julie's dishevelled appearance, and then brushed past her into the apartment. 'Manuel!' She swung round. 'Where is Manuel?'

Julie linked her fingers awkwardly. 'He's in bed. He's been ill.' 'Ill? Manuel?' Dolores Arriviera swept her coat around her and walked unerringly straight towards Manuel's bedroom door. As there were several doors to choose from Julie thought, with a sinking of her heart, that Dolores was quite well aware of Manuel's bedroom. 'Please!' Julie put out a hand. 'He's asleep. Don't wake him! I... I was on the couch. I must have dozed off too.' Dolores halted, her hand on the handle of the door. 'Who are you?' she almost spat the words out. 'Julie Kennedy. I suppose you are Miss Arriviera.' - 'Manuel told you about me, did he?' 'No, I... knew!' Dolores smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. 'And why are you here?' Her voice was shrill. She left the bedroom door and -walked a little of the way towards Julie. 'Are you his nurse?' Julie flushed. 'No. Jose wanted to go out, so I said I would stay.' 'Indeed? You are perhaps a friend of Jose's, yes?' Julie twisted her fingers. Dolores Arriviera was looking very fierce, and she had no wish to become embroiled in a row with her. 'You might say that,' she admitted nervously. 'If you wish to see Mr. Cortez, I would suggest you came back tomorrow.' 'Really?' Dolores came a bit closer, and Julie could smell the potent perfume the woman was wearing. Nothing so sweet or' delicious as 'La Vie

Desirable' but instead a primitive perfume to drug the senses. She really was exquisite, though, thought Julie achingly. Tiny hands, tiny feet; slender and as light as thistledown; yet as violent and passionate as the gypsy blood which flowed in her veins. Suddenly the door to Manuel's bedroom opened, and Manuel himself stood there wrapped in a dark blue dressing gown made of silk. He swayed weakly in the doorway, and said: 'God, what a noise you make, Dolores! Julie! What are you doing here?' Dolores ran to him, putting her arms around him, murmuring protectively: 'Querido, querido, you have been ill! Why did you not call me? I should have come with all haste to care for you.' Manuel's eyes met Julie's over Dolores' head, and although his were a little glazed from the fever, Julie could have sworn he was glad to see her. 'Dolores, please!' He pushed her weakly away. 'Where's Jose?' 'He went to meet a friend,' replied Julie. 'I said I would stay until he returned.' Dolores turned on her. 'Well, as you can see that is not necessary now. I am here, I will take care of my poor Manuel!' Manuel shook his head. 'No, Dolores, you go. Why are you here, anyway? You know it's all over between us.' Julie shivered. If Manuel ever spoke to her like that she felt she would curl up and die. But Dolores was obviously used to it, for she did not turn a hair. Instead, she shrugged and said: 'So! You are still angry with me. Ay, ay, ay! You will get over it.' She laughed a little, but at his cold glance walked slowly towards the

door, looking back at him mockingly. 'So, I go. But I will be back, yes?' Manuel looked away, and Dolores flounced through the door a little angrily, and slammed it behind her. Manuel visibly leaned more weakly on the doorpost, and without thinking Julie went over to him, and putting an arm about him for him to lean on, said: 'You ought to be in bed. You ought never to have got up in the first place.' 'I'm not so ill,' remarked Manuel dryly, but he leaned heavily on her as she led him back to the bed with its tumbled sheets. She helped him into the armchair beside the bed, and said: 'I'll just straighten this for you. It will be more comfortable.' Manuel shrugged, but made no objections, and then she helped him up and said: 'Take off your dressing gown.' Manuel looked half amused. 'I don't somehow think I'd better,' he drawled, and Julie's cheeks flushed scarlet. 'You mean ... you ... oh!' That explained why Jose had not wanted her assistance changing the bed. 'Get in, anyway.' Manuel slid between the sheets obediently, and Julie said: 'Jose shouldn't be long. Is there anything else you want?' 'You,' he murmured softly, and pulled her down to him. His lips were warm and sleepy, and Julie felt her earlier feelings crystallize into longing again. This was Manuel: these hard, demanding lips were Manuel's lips; and no one but Manuel had ever kissed her in quite this way. She struggled away from him half-heartedly at last, and said:

'You ought to be resting. This is madness!' 'I am resting, and you are wrong, Julie, it's not madness.' Julie pressed the palms of her hands to her cheeks. 'I really ought to be going,' she whimpered, conscious of the fact that they were atone in the apartment, and she was at his mercy. Who could tell whether his emotions would permit her to leave freely as she had done the previous week? She had been a fool to come, she supposed, but he drew her like the moth is drawn to the flame, and she could not resist. He was drawing her back to him now, and she murmured, half protesting, but suddenly the door opened and Jose stood there, his face scarlet. 'Senor!' he gasped, his hand to his mouth. 'I beg your pardon. I thought Miss Kennedy must have gone!' Manuel rolled over and for the second time Julie rose swiftly to her feet, smoothing down her dress and smoothing her hair. She was conscious of Jose's eyes upon her, and she felt guiltily aware of her own shortcomings. What was there about Manuel Cortez that dispelled all her natural inhibitions and caused her to act in such a wanton fashion? She had known more strictly handsome men, but never one who possessed such personal magnetism. Manuel rose too, wrapping the silk dressing gown about him. 'It's all right, Jose,' he muttered, albeit a little derisively. 'You've probably prevented me from doing something both of us would regret.' He looked at Julie momentarily, and then sighed, 'It's time you were going home, Julie. It's getting late.' He looked back at Jose. 'Get the car out and take her!' 'Yes, senor.'

'That won't be necessary,' said Julie, shaking her head. 'I'd rather go by bus. I can get some air.' She walked quickly out of the bedroom and swiftly put on her coat. She did not wait to hear any more, but merely shouted: 'Good-bye!' and fled out of the apartment. She ran all the way to the bus stop, caught the first bus that came without questioning its destination and when she was sufficiently recovered to take note of her whereabouts found herself in Farringdon Street, and miles from home.

CHAPTER FIVE ON Wednesday after a sleepless night, Julie felt like death warmed up. The girls at the shop noticed her pallor and nervous tension displayed in her restless movements, but did not comment, and Julie was grateful. She knew they were curious, but attributed her depression to the fact that Donna had learned through a friend of a friend that Julie had refused two dates with Paul and they thought she had had a row with him and it had upset her. In truth they expected a reconciliation any day and possibly even an engagement ring. Nothing could have been further from the truth. On Wednesday evening Julie decided to go straight to Samantha's from work, as she had often done in the past, and rang her parents to tell them so. It would be a relief to be with someone who knew of her entanglement with Manuel without having to evade questions and awkward silences. After a meal, Benedict, Samantha and Julie took their coffee into the lounge and seated themselves in low comfortable armchairs beside the pseudo-log fire. The room was strewn with half-finished paintings, and die paraphernalia appropriate to their composition, but it was warm and homely, and Julie relaxed. Ben was studying her thoughtfully, and then he said: 'Sam tells me you know Manuel Cortez.' Julie sighed. 'That's right. Do you?' 'Good lord, no! But I was curious how you found him.' He shrugged. 'Julie love, I see everything through the eyes of my paintbrush, and it occurs to me that Manuel Cortez has the kind of face I would like to paint. There's something in his face ... I can't describe it exactly, but I can picture him as a conquistador ... a bullfighter perhaps! Who

knows? But surely you must have noticed his magnetism, or is it merely assumed for his stage performance?' 'Ben!' Samantha said now. 'Must we discuss this particular subject? I told you...' 'It's all right, Samantha,' said Julie, smiling. 'I'm not going to break down, or anything.' In truth it was quite a relief talking about Manuel. It helped to ease the pain she had endured all day. Earlier on in the day she had cherished some vain hopes that he might conceivably try to get in touch with her. After all, he knew where she worked, and he knew her home address. And if he could not contact her himself there was always Jose. But now it was obvious that he had no such intentions. 'Actually,' she went on to Benedict, 'I have seen what you mean. I've known several handsome men, but Manuel has something more than mere good looks, and I think you're right. It's a kind of dominance.' She frowned. 'He hasn't found life easy, yet he has won. Maybe now he can't lose.' Samantha grimaced. 'He doesn't strike me that way. I've always thought of him as being rather too self- confident.' 'Well, he is,' said Benedict seriously. 'But then it can't have been easy for someone from his environment to become so famous so young.' 'Well, you're beginning to bore me,' remarked Samantha indifferently. 'And you haven't any need for a model for the kind of painting you're talking about. There are plenty of strong-featured arrogant Spaniards painted already.' Benedict shook his head good-humouredly. 'Darling, don't be dense. Every painting I do is mine; it bears my signature, and reveals my

own character to a certain extent. I paint what I see, and I would like to paint Cortez.' 'Well, you're going to be unlucky,' said Samantha smugly. 'He leaves for the States tomorrow. I read it in this evening's Standard, so you've had it!' The blood drained out of Julie's face. She felt the cold painful claw clutch at her stomach. Samantha's lightly shed words almost paralysed her with misery. It couldn't be true! It couldn't be happening to her\ He just couldn't leave her like that, without another word, could he? In the diffused lighting, Samantha and Benedict did not notice her withdrawal, and Julie was grateful. She could not have borne their sympathy. No more than she could bear the thought of returning home this evening and carrying on with her life as before. 'More coffee?' asked Samantha now, and Julie nodded. Coffee and a cigarette might just give her the strength to leave the flat without bursting into tears. Was it possible that just a fortnight ago she had imagined herself free, lucky and contented? Her future secure and serene? How foolish she had been, tempting fate like that!

On the television newsreel on Thursday evening, Julie saw Manuel's departure from London Airport. The commentator said that Senor Cortez had had to cancel his latter engagements this week owing to an unexpected attack of a virus but that he hoped to return later in the year to fulfil his contract. It was agony to see him, slim and dark, in a light- coloured overcoat, mounting the steps of the Boeing and turning to wave at the crowds; fans who had come to see him off. It was incredible and fantastic to

imagine herself held in his arms, to remember the warmth of his body and the demanding pressure of his mouth. It was useless to tell herself that he had had no honourable intentions - such old-fashioned words towards her. It had been an episode in her life that would quickly assume unreality, and the sooner she accepted the fact, the better it would be. Paul Bannister, who had been completely unaware of her relationship with Manuel Cortez, came back quickly into her life, and her mother, who had been so understanding from the beginning, did not ask unnecessary questions, when it became apparent that Julie was no longer seeing any other man. Samantha was the only person who was wholly aware of the situation, and even she avoided the subject like the plague. In three weeks, Julie found that her life had resumed its earlier normality. Paul, now she was away from Manuel's disturbing presence, became once again a very pleasant young man, and she found that if she tried very hard she could practically dispel all thoughts of Manuel from her mind when she was with Paul. After all, she was young, and with the resilience of youth she fought off the depressive influences that might have ruined her life and her looks. Christmas was drawing near and the store was busy decking itself out in its Christmas frivolities. Paul and Julie attended dances and parties, and arrangements were made for Christmas Day itself. Julie and Paul were going to spend the day with Samantha and Benedict, while their respective parents celebrated all together. Julie told Samantha she thought she was behaving rather foolishly having a party on Christmas Day when the baby was due to be born on the twenty-ninth anyway, but Samantha merely laughed and shrugged, and said she had no intention of spending a gloomy day thinking about her confinement. Nothing would dissuade her, so Julie gave up.

After all, at least if they were there, if anything happened she would be able to help Sam. But, as luck would have it, Samantha did not wait until Christmas Day to have her baby. He was born on Christmas Eve, a bouncing nine-pounder, and Samantha found she would be spending Christmas Day in St. David's nursing home. So, on Christmas Day, Julie found herself at the hospital, visiting Samantha, and taking her first tender look at the new baby. She felt a surge of pain in the pit of her stomach, as she looked down on the new baby's tiny face, allowing small yet amazingly strong fingers to curl about hers, and in so doing to curl about her heart. How wonderful, she thought, to be married to the man you love, and to have borne his child. She sighed, and Samantha roused herself from reading congratulatory telegrams to ask: 'What's wrong, honey? It's over six weeks since Cortez left for the States. Surely you're not still thinking about him!' Julie straightened, and shrugged. 'Sometimes,' she admitted honestly, 'I envy you, Sam. You have everything you want. You must be terribly happy.' 'I am, rather,' murmured Samantha contentedly, but she looked anxiously at her friend. 'Julie, why don't you marry Paul and be done with it? If you were married, with children of your own, you would forget all about Manuel Cortez.' 'Would I?' Julie was not so sure. 'Samantha, it's no use my deceiving Paul like that, and marrying him, and then finding out in a couple of years I wanted a divorce.' Samantha sighed, 'Yes, that's true. Well, maybe a change of environment is what you need. Why don't you change your job? Take

a job with children? That's what you're always saying you would like to do. Or train to be a nurse. After all, there are never enough nurses.' Julie shook her head. 'Oh, don't be silly,' she smiled. 'I'm all right, really I am. And I expect I will marry Paul one day, but not just yet. I don't feel I want to tie myself down quite so soon.' 'If Paul were the right man tomorrow wouldn't be soon enough,' remarked Samantha, and Julie said she wasn't being realistic. Samantha shrugged, 'H'mm. Maybe not.' Then she changed the subject, and Julie forgot about it. Paul had bought Julie a bracelet for Christmas, a delicate thing of silver filigree, hung with small charms. Julie had been dubious as to whether she ought to accept such a present from him, but his pleasure in her surprise drove all thoughts out of her head, and she thanked him warmly, her arms about his neck, her lips barely touching his own. She had bought him some long-playing records, and on Christmas afternoon, when Julie's parents had driven over to the Bannisters', they played the records on Julie's father's hi-fi, stretched out lazily on the rug. Julie felt very peaceful, and it was with a kind of shock she heard Paul say softly: 'Julie, why don't we get married this coming spring? There's nothing to stop us; I'm earning enough for us to get a decent flat to begin with, and we could be together.' Julie rolled on to her stomach. 'Paul, I…' She halted awkwardly. 'Paul, you know I like you, but love ... I'm not sure about that!'

Paul laid an arm across her shoulders, turning her towards him. 'Aren't you? Why? Where's the problem? Surely we know each other well enough to discuss these things?' 'I guess we do,' said Julie dubiously. 'Paul, have you ever had ... I mean ... have you ever had an affair with another woman? Oh, that's badly put!' She flushed, aware of Paul's astounded expression. 'Paul, make it easy for me. Have you ever wanted a woman, without wanting to marry her?' Paul sat up abruptly. 'Julie!' 'Well, have you?' she sighed. 'Paul, listen, surely you can see I'm not asking you out of curiosity.' 'Then why are you asking?' 'Because it's important to me to know.' Paul shrugged. 'Very well, then. If you must know, naturally I've been attracted to other women, but only before we met. Since our association I've not been interested in anyone else.' He frowned. 'Why? Have you?' Julie flushed. It's difficult to answer that, she replied honestly. 'But our relationship has always been so ... so ... well, companionable, and lately I've been wondering whether we have been allowing ourselves to drift into something that wasn't there to begin with.' 'Julie!' Paul looked astounded. 'I've always been sure of my feelings for you!' Julie sighed. 'What is it that makes you so certain?'

'We like the same things, we both want a home, and a family. We have so much in common....' 'But is that all there is to love? I mean, a home and a family require more than just friendship between two people. How can you be sure that we would be happy together?' Paul looked annoyed. 'Really, Julie, I think you're being particularly irritating! It must be the sherry we had at lunchtime. You've never talked this way before. And I for one don't wish to discuss it any longer.' Julie hunched her shoulders. She wasn't being deliberately perverse, but when she married she wanted it to be for all time. She didn't want to find herself seeking a divorce later on because they found each other incompatible. Her own parents still loved one another deeply after almost twenty-five years of marriage, and that was how she intended her marriage should be. But marriage with Paul had become anathema to her, and she was painfully aware that her calm and secure existence was rocking a little at its foundations. Paul got restlessly to his feet. 'You would have to choose today to talk like this,' he said angrily. 'I told my parents I was going to ask you today, and no doubt they'll have spilled the beans to your parents, too.' 'Paul! Oh, Paul, you shouldn't have done that!' 'Why? Why? How was I to know you were going to start behaving like an overgrown schoolgirl? I thought you were as keen as I was!' Julie shook her head. 'Oh, Paul,' she said helplessly 'I can't answer you, not yet. Maybe it's something that's invaded my system, maybe

I'll get over it in time, but right now I can't agree to marry you.' She looked up at him. 'And please, if you feel you can't accept this, then let's break it up once and for all. It's not right that I should expect you to hang around waiting for me to make up my mind. You have a life of your own to lead, and I'll understand if you want to call it a day now.' Paul compressed his lips momentarily. 'Julie,' he said. 'Oh, Julie, I don't want us to split up. There's no other girl for me, you know that. I guess I'll hang around, as you call it.' Julie was contrite. She sprang up and slid an arm through one of Paul's. 'Paul, I feel so awful! I wish I could say yes.' 'Give it time,' said Paul softly, with a little more confidence. 'It will come, I'm sure.' Julie nodded, but deep inside her she wished she had his confidence. And she wished with all her heart that she and Paul had never attended that staff dinner dance and that she had never met Manuel Cortez. Without his disturbing influence she would have married Paul in the spring as he suggested, and probably by next spring she would have had a family of her own and the contented state that comes with the fulfilment of her motherhood. Paul bent his head to kiss her, and she returned his kiss more fervently than ever before. It had got to come right again, it had just got to.

Samantha was in hospital for three weeks, and during this time she and Julie renewed the close relationship which had grown less intimate in the years since Samantha's marriage to Benedict. Benedict himself was working hard, his creative instincts demanding, and consequently he did not spend as much time at the hospital as

Samantha would have liked. So she turned more and more to Julie, and it gave Julie a breathing space from seeing too much of Paul. Samantha heard about Paul's proposal, and Julie's subsequent uncertainty, and tried her hardest to find a solution to Julie's problems. 'Damn Manuel Cortez,' she said, one evening towards the end of her confinement in the nursing home. 'He's the real problem, isn't he?' Julie sighed. 'I suppose so.' Samantha frowned. Do you know what I think?' and when Julie shook her head, she continued: 'I think that you need to see this Manuel Cortez again, and dispel this myth of charm and mystery and excitement you're weaving about him. How many times did you see him? Four times? Well, really, you can't have gotten to know him so well in so short a time. I mean, one tends to elaborate things and situations like your experiences with him, and I'm sure the fact that he appeared to you as a glamorous South American had clouded Your senses.' Julie half-smiled. 'Samantha! That's not true, and you know it. Why, even Benedict recognized that charm about him. Oh, let's forget him.' They changed the subject, and for a few weeks it was forgotten. Then, one evening towards the end of January, Samantha had some very exciting news for her friend. 'You'll never guess what, darling?' she exclaimed. 'Ben has been offered the chance of lecturing for six weeks at a university in California. Isn't that marvellous? All expenses paid and so on, and we, Tony and I, can go, too.' Tony was the new baby. 'How marvellous!' Julie was genuinely pleased for her friend. 'It's just what you need after having the baby and so on.'

'Yes, I know.' Samantha hugged herself excitedly. Then she looked speculatively at Julie. 'How would you like to come with us?' Julie's mouth almost dropped open in astonishment. 'Me?' she gasped. 'I couldn't afford a trip of that kind!' 'Well, I know, but I thought you might make it a working holiday. I shall need someone to take care of Tony while I'm out with Ben, and then there'll be nappies to wash, and that kind of thing. You're always saying how much you'd like to work with children. Well, here's your chance.' Julie shook her head, a hand to her throat. 'It sounds terrific,' she confessed candidly, 'but I couldn't do it. I mean, I don't really know anything about babies.' 'Nor did I, but you soon learn. Besides, I'd rather have you with me than some stranger. Couldn't you at least think about it?' Julie shook her head again. 'I'm sorry, Samantha, but really, it's too fantastic!' 'Why? We could pay you a small wage, and your keep, of course. It would give you a chance to get completely away from Paul Bannister, to see whether your feelings for him really are dead, or whether they crystallize into a grand passion. We would only be away about seven weeks, in all, including travelling time and so on. Then when you came back it would be almost summer, and life might not seem so depressing to you as it obviously does at the moment.' The temptation was great. Julie longed to pack up and leave her present environment for a short time, but there was the problem of giving up her job at Fordhams, and the equally difficult problem of finding a suitable job when she returned. She mentioned this to Samantha.

'Well, really, darling, your job isn't the kind of job you couldn't take up again on your return, is it?' she countered. 'And besides, if you gain a little experience with me, you may decide to change your mode of employment altogether. As I told you when I was in the nursing home, a change is as good as a rest, and quite honestly you are beginning to look very peaky.' 'Thank you,' remarked Julie sardonically, but she smiled. 'You know I'd like to do it, Sam, but... oh, I'll discuss it with Mum and Dad and see what they think. Will that do?' Her parents were, to her surprise, quite willing for her to go with the Barlows. 'I've thought for some time you haven't seemed yourself,' said her father ponderously. 'I think it's this trouble over Paul. He's a nice young man, and all that, but maybe he's been rushing you too much. This break will give him time to cool his heels.' Her mother agreed. 'After all, darling, you're only twenty-one. I was twenty-four when I married your father, and we'd known one another for five years. You've barely known Paul a year. Give it a little longer. Go with Samantha, and then when you come home you may have a more definite viewpoint.' 'Well,' Julie smiled, 'I felt sure you would consider the idea just a madcap scheme. You never fail to surprise me. Do you honestly think I'll be able to take care of Tony? I mean, I've had no practical experience with babies.' Her father laughed. 'My dear girl, every new mother that delivers has had no experience with babies. Unless, of course, they were nursery nurses or something of that nature. You'll soon find the knack, and besides, I'm sure Samantha has enough of the motherly instinct not to want you to do everything for him.'

Julie laughed, too. 'Well, I'll think it over. They don't - go for several weeks yet.' A few days later Julie was watching television with her parents when during the newscast her heart almost stopped beating, for there, on the television screen, was Manuel Cortez. He was walking across the tarmac at London Airport, and clinging to his arm was one of the most beautiful girls Julie had ever seen in her life. Her expression was possessive as she looked up at Manuel, and she smiled slowly and warmly at something he said. The commentator's voice droned on, telling the viewers that Senor Cortez was bade in the country to complete the engagements he had been forced to cancel because of illness the previous year. But Julie hardly listened; she was absorbed in watching him, in seeing the familiar smile, the easy dispensation of hischarm, and the lean arrogance of his body. Her heart contracted painfully, and then she became aware that her mother was watching her reactions curiously. Forcing herself to relax, she lay back in her chair again, and tried to assume a casual expression despite the nervous depression she was feeling at seeing Manuel with that girl. The newsreel switched to a sporting item, and Mrs. Kennedy resumed knitting again. But Julie knew that her mother had guessed a little of what she was feeling and it would not be too difficult for her to put two and two together. But whether she guessed or otherwise, Julie was grateful that her mother did not attempt to discuss the matter with her, and merely allowed Julie time to collect her scattered wits before talking about something entirely different. Paul came round later in the evening, and they played bridge, but Julie knew she made a lot of errors and that Paul, who partnered her and took his game very seriously, was not very pleased with her.

Time is ail I need, she told herself wearily, as she brushed her hair before climbing into bed. Time. It was merely the shock of seeing him without any forewarning that had thrown her system into such disorder.

CHAPTER SIX THE next day Julie had collected herself. She was glad in a way that she had seen the woman with Manuel. At least it brought it home to her more strongly than any words could have done the completely amoral attitude he possessed. Marilyn had seen the television as well, however, and said: 'I say, Julie, did you see that Manuel Cortez is back in England?' Julie managed a casual shrug. 'So what?' 'Darling, really!' Marilyn gave her an old-fashioned look. 'Surely you aren't as indifferent as all that! I know you refused a date with him, but I'm sure that was more because of Paul Bannister than anything else.' Julie tossed her head. 'I really can't see what all the fuss is about. Paul would make four of him!' 'You must be joking!' Marilyn giggled. 'Get you! I didn't know Paul was becoming such a dish all of a sudden. Why? What's changed him?' Julie refrained from replying. She had no desire to get involved in an argument about Paul when it meant her stating things that in actual fact were not true. It was no use pretending about Paul's attractions; he was handsome, yes, and tall, yes, and young; but there was nothing particularly exciting about him and Julie could never understand girls who thought men's looks were enough. She had known many men, and in her small experience personality mattered far more than mere good looks.

However, during her lunch break she did borrow a newspaper from Miss Fatherstone in the hope that there might be more particulars about the woman with Manuel, but there was not. There was a picture of him at the airport, and a small article, and that was all. When they left the building that evening it was snowing, and an icy wind was blowing, chilling them to the bone. Julie, wrapped in a loose dark blue mohair coat, hugged her handbag to her as she started along towards the main thoroughfare accompanied by Donna and Marilyn. She wore knee-length white boots, but between the place where her boots ended and the place where her skirt began she felt frozen, and she wondered whether for the winter at least she should go back to normal-length skirts. Her hair was blowing about her face, for she was wearing no hat, and she walked straight into the man who stood purposely in her way. 'I'm sorry. ...' she began hastily, a smile lightening her face, and then: 'You!' Manuel smiled, and her heart leapt treacherously into her throat. She had let go of Donna's arm in her confusion, but both Marilyn and Donna were staring open-mouthed. Manuel took Julie's arm, and said smoothly: 'You will excuse me, ladies,' in a mocking tone, and drew Julie across the pavement to the familiar green Ferrari. 'No, wait!' began Julie, but it was no use. Manuel had the car door open, and was propelling her inside, his hard fingers biting cruelly into her arm. 'Don't argue,' he said, for all the world as though it was a natural occurrence that he should meet her from work.

Julie did not want to create a scene in the street, so she climbed into the luxurious warmth of the car, and sliding across out of the driver's seat, she allowed him to slide in beside her. He slammed the door, flicked the ignition, and the car moved silently forward, purring like a sated panther. She stole a glance at him as they turned into the main thoroughfare, and saw, with a sense of inevitability, that far from changing he was much more attractive than she remembered. He turned for a moment to look at her as they stopped at some traffic lights, and said: 'How have you been?' Julie contemplated her finger nails. 'Fine. And you?' He shrugged, and did not reply, and she felt like hitting him. How dare he sit there knowing that she must have seen him with that girl yesterday! She looked out of the car window, suddenly realizing that she was allowing him to drive her heaven knows where, and she was making no comment. 'Where are you taking me?' she asked in a tight little voice. 'Home,' he said lazily. 'Where do you think? I thought I would save you the journey on such a ghastly night. Tell me, how do you stand this climate? It's terrible. Me, I like the sun, and the sea, and warm water to swim in.' 'Don't we all?' remarked Julie dryly. 'This will do.' They had reached the end of Faulkner Road. Manuel shook his head. 'What number?'

'Forty-seven. But please, I'd rather you didn't drive along there. It would only cause speculation, and if you should be recognized ' Her voice trailed away. 'That's hardly likely tonight,' remarked Manuel coolly, and drove smoothly to her gate where he halted the car. 'Thank you, senor.' Julie gave a slight bow of her head, and made to get out, but Manuel stopped her, his fingers biting into her arm. 'Aren't you pleased to see me?' he asked mockingly. Julie looked at him fully. 'No, not really.' 'Why?' 'Surely that's obvious. We have nothing to say to one another.' 'No?' 'No.' Julie brushed back her hair as it fell in waves over her eyes. It glistened with tiny drops of melted snow and she was unaware of how lovely she was looking. Manuel shrugged, and lay back in his seat. 'Go then.' Julie felt furious. It always ended this way, with herself feeling the guilty one. Well, he wasn't going to get away with it! She swung round on him. 'Don't imagine for one moment that I've been brought home believing your little tales!' she cried angrily. 'I know perfectly well that the reason you have brought me home is because you could hardly take the to the apartment when you already have one female in residence!'

Manuel stared at her, a dull flush just visible in the muted light of the car rising up his cheeks. 'At last,' exclaimed Julie furiously, with a certain amount of satisfaction, 'At last I've got under your skin! Sorry, senor, but even I possess some grey matter, even if it isn't as devious as yours!' . And with that she slid out of die car and slammed the door loudly. She had not heard him move, but when she straightened up he was beside her, his tawny eyes glinting with a brilliance that made her own anger a pitiful thing. Julie turned and would have run inside the gate, but he was between her and the gate, and he was blazing. 'Let me past!' she said furiously, aware that she was near to tears. He did not reply, but moved slowly towards her, and she had the terrible premonition that he was going to strike her. 'Manuel,' she exclaimed, her voice more pleading than angry now, 'I'm nothing to you, what I say doesn't matter. Please let me go in!' Suddenly a car halted behind Manuel's and a familiar figure slid out. Julie felt her legs turn to jelly. 'Daddy!' she cried thankfully, and without another word Manuel brushed past her, slid into the Ferrari and drove violently away, the snarl of the engine an indication of his feelings. 'Who was that?' asked her father, frowning, as they walked up to the house together. 'Oh ... just someone from work who gave me a lift,' lied Julie awkwardly. 'Have you had a good day, darling?'

Her father accepted her story. It was too bad a night for driving for him to have taken much notice of the situation being enacted outside his gate. But Julie was only too aware of what had nearly occurred, although what form her punishment might have taken she would now never know. She only knew Manuel had been angrier than any man she had ever known, and somehow she felt terrible about it. It didn't seem to matter now that what she had said had been the truth. All that mattered was that Manuel hated her, and would have wreaked some punishment on her had her father not arrived in time. After their meal, when her parents were preparing to go out - they had a bridge engagement - Julie washed her hair. Paul was coming round and she knew he would be querying her answer to his suggestion of an early wedding again. She wanted with all her heart to say 'yes' to him now. She felt that if she was wearing Paul's ring it would act as a talisman. against Manuel's vengeance. But, as luck would have it, Paul brought his younger sister Alison with him, as his parents were going out too, and so there was no opportunity for private conversation. Alison was eighteen, and very young in her ways. She was still at school, waiting to go to university after the summer vacation. A brainy child, she adored popular music, and this was her only outlet, so they spent the evening playing records, many of which, much to Julie's consternation, were her father's collection of Manuel Cortez. Since getting to know Manuel she had taken care purposely not to listen to his records as his voice had such a compelling quality about it that it came through even though he was not visible to the eye. His music, sometimes wild and gipsyish, sometimes haunting and melodic, filled the room, his guitar casting a spell over his listeners. Oh God, thought Julie, panicking inside, why did I have to meet him like that? Why? Why me?

After a while she went and made some coffee and sandwiches, escaping from the room like a prisoner from his cell. Paul followed her, leaving Alison sorting through the records. He caught her in the narrow passage between the lounge and the kitchen, pinning her laughingly against the wall and putting his lips to hers. It was too soon after her seduction by the music for Julie to fully realize that this was not Manuel who was touching her, and her lips parted involuntarily, and her mouth moved restlessly upon his, arousing him to a sensual awareness of her. With an exclamation, Paul thrust her away from him, and stared at her incredulously. 'Julie!' Julie straightened up as though a douche of cold water had been thrown over her. This was not Manuel, this was Paul, and he was shocked! Heavens, she thought, shaking her head, was she never to escape from Manuel's influence, even when Paul kissed her? Paul was looking strangely at her. 'Where did you learn to kiss like that?' he asked coldly. Julie flushed. 'Don't be silly,' she murmured self-consciously. 'I was half asleep, I guess; drugged by the music. Let me go, I want to make the coffee.' Paul let her go, but she was aware he did not altogether accept her explanation. Allied to her remarks a few weeks ago, even Paul must be realizing something was seriously disturbing Julie. She sighed heavily, and Paul shrugged and walked back into the lounge to join Alison.

Julie pulled down a saucepan and poured milk into it automatically. Taking cups from the cupboard, she opened the jar of instant coffee and spooned coffee into the cups. Then she passed a tired hand over her eyes. She didn't feel very well, and there was a heaviness behind her eyes which she could only attribute to disturbed nights. 'Damn,' she said softly to herself, 'damn, damn, damn!' The following day was Saturday and she spent the whole morning trembling in case Manuel should appear in the store and attempt to rebuke her. But he did not. It was half-day closing, however, so by lunch- time she relaxed. Donna and Marilyn could not resist questioning her about her encounter with Manuel the previous evening, but she managed to fob them off by saying it was a chance meeting, and that he had only taken her home. They looked sceptically at her, but couldn't force her to say anything more. Thai Donna commented: 'By the way, did you see in the paper that he'd brought his daughter with him this time?' She sighed. 'I didn't even know he had a daughter, let alone one who's almost seventeen!' Julie froze. 'Where did you read this?' she asked tightly. 'In the newspaper, I told you. Anyway, you saw her on telly, didn't you? That gorgeous creature in the sables, who looks about twenty-five. How marvellous to be able to go everywhere with Manuel Cortez!' 'I wouldn't want to be his daughter,' giggled Marilyn, and her intervention sent Donna into peals of laughter, successfully diverting attention from Julie's pale face. His daughter! No wonder he had been so angry with her for jumping to conclusions!

At lunchtime Julie wended her way home wearily. She felt worn out, both physically and mentally, and utterly depressed. Her mother was appalled at her wan face and strained eyes. 'Julie!' she exclaimed. 'You look terrible! Are you ill?' Julie slid her arms out of her coat tiredly. 'I think I'm going down with 'flu,' she said, beginning to mount the stairs. 'Would you mind if I went straight to bed? I don't feel like any lunch.' 'Of course not, honey. Go along. I'll be up presently with a hot water bottle to slip into the small of your back. Switch on your electric blanket while you undress.' Julie really did feel ill, and as the day wore on it became apparent that she really was getting a dose of 'flu. It wasn't just reaction to Donna's remarks about Manuel Cortez, as she had half thought at first. She spent Saturday afternoon and the whole of Sunday in bed, visited by an anxious Paul, who was worried about the dark lines beneath her eyes, and her enervated condition. She stayed away from work on Monday and Tuesday, but by Wednesday she felt a lot better, and insisted that she must go back to work, despite her father's warning about after-effects. She went straight to Samantha's on Wednesday evening, and found her feeding the baby. After agreeing to take over while Samantha prepared supper for the three of them, she followed her friend into the kitchen, and seated herself in a comfortable basket chair before replacing the teat of the bottle in Tony's mouth. Then she told Samantha about her encounter with Manuel. 'Well?' said Samantha. 'How was it? Have your feelings changed?'

Julie shook her head, patting Tony's back to get his wind up. 'I was beastly to him,' she said. 'What must he have thought of me?' 'Well! So what do you want to do now?' 'I don't know. Apologize, I guess.' 'Impossible,' said Samantha firmly. 'I know.' Julie sighed. 'Let's forget me. How long is it until you leave for the States?' 'Only two weeks, darling. And I haven't got myself a nanny yet. Have you given it reasonable thought?' Julie bit her lip. 'You mean, going with you?' 'Of course.' 'I have thought about it,' she admitted. 'And my parents both think it's quite a good idea—' There you are, then!' Samantha was triumphant. 'I know. It's tempting. And after this dose of 'flu I feel in need of a change. But am I being cowardly, running away from my problems?' 'You're not running away from them, darling. They'll be here when you come back, so how can you be? Besides, they may not seem like problems when you return.' 'I wish I could believe that,' murmured Julie, sighing. Ben walked into the kitchen and grinned down at Julie just then. 'Getting your hand in for when we go away?' he asked, laughing.

Julie shook her head. 'I haven't agreed to come yet,' she protested. Ben frowned. 'But I thought... Sam said ...' Jufie looked at Samantha who was making frantic signals to her husband over Julie's head. 'What have you said?' she asked good-naturedly. Ben shrugged. 'She said you were coming with us. That you were going to take charge of Tony here.' 'Oh, did she?' Samantha groaned. 'Oh, Ben! Well, anyway, Julie, you will come, won't you?' Julie moved her shoulders helplessly. 'I want to come,' she said, 'but what will Paul say? I haven't mentioned it to him yet.' 'Then ask him,' said Samantha, spreading some steaks under the grill. 'After all, you're not engaged, yet, or anything.' Julie nodded. It seemed that between her parents and Samantha and Ben she was going to have little chance to refuse even if she wanted to.

During the next few days Julie saw notices in the Underground indicating that Manuel Cortez was appearing nightly at Guardinos for a limited period. She wondered whether he ever thought of her now, or whether their last clash had been the final one so far as he was concerned. She could hardly blame him if he didn't want to see her again. She had treated him abominably, whether there had been justification for her actions or otherwise.

Samantha rang to tell her that if she was thinking of going with them she should call at the American Embassy and see about a visa. She would also need a smallpox vaccination certificate. Julie agreed to see about the documents without much interest. At least it gave her something to do, and delayed the time when she must make the decision one way or the other. If she was going she must tell Paul, and then she must make some effort to buy some suitable clothes. After all, the weather in California was bound to be warm and sunny, and she would not need a lot of winter clothes. On the next Saturday afternoon, Julie took a bus to St. John's Wood. She didn't know quite what she had in mind, but she felt a compulsion to see again the block of apartments where Manuel lived. It was a bitterly cold afternoon, but as it was fine she didn't mind. Wrapped in a sheepskin jacket and dark green stretch pants, she looked tall and slim and attractive. Hands thrust into the pockets of her coat, she walked slowly across the stretch of parkland adjoining Lebanon Court. She looked up at the top floor of the building, picking out the windows of the apartment quite easily. It was a gloomy afternoon with the overhang of snow in the air, and there were lights in the penthouse indicating someone's presence. But whose? Was Manuel there? Was he alone? Or was his daughter with him? Was there any point in being here anyway if she had no intentions of going up? She knew that secretly that was what she had intended to do. It had been there at the back of her mind all the time, and she had not wanted to admit it to herself. She lit a cigarette and threw the match away, then drew on it deeply. Wouldn't it be marvellous, she thought dreamily, if Manuel should look out of the window and see me standing here? If he should come down and meet me, and say, Come on up. I'm so glad you came. I've wanted to see you!

After a few moments, she became aware that someone was crossing the grass towards her, and her heart leapt, just to subside again. 'What axe you doing here, miss? This is private land.' It was the commissionaire. She flushed awkwardly. 'I... er ... I was just looking at the apartments. I'm interested in architecture,' she finished lamely. 'Indeed, miss? Well, it's a cold afternoon, and I'd advise you to study architecture elsewhere, and on a warmer day, if I was you, miss,' he added sententiously. Julie sighed, and cast a longing glance up at those windows, lit so welcomingly. If only she could have seen him! She turned and nodding to the commissionaire, she walked across the grass, on to the road and across the car park to where the main road joined the cul-de-sac. Parked on the car-park was a dark green Ferrari. With a kind of agonized breathlessness, she turned back and approached the entrance. The commissionaire blocked her way. 'Yes, miss?' 'I want to go up. To Senor Cortez' apartment, please.' The commissionaire's eyes widened. 'Now, miss, you know I couldn't allow that.' 'Why? Oh, heavens, I know him!' 'Really, miss?' He sounded disbelieving. 'Of course. My name is Julie Kennedy. Ring him up. Ask him!'

The commissionaire studied her thoughtfully. 'Very well, I will. Wait here.' Leaving Julie outside, he entered his office and she heard him using the inter-com. Her heart was pounding. What if he refused to see her? What then? She looked through the swing glass doors. The commissionaire's office was to one side. If she pushed open the door and ran for one of the lifts he would not have time to stop her. She would be safe inside. With impulsive decision, she did just this, hearing the commissionaire shout angrily as she passed his office, but uncaring of the futility of her action. The lift moved up slowly, the first floor, the second floor, then half-way between second and third, it stopped. Oh God, she thought, dejectedly, he's stopped it. Of course, I never thought of that. She waited miserably for the lift to go down again, but surprisingly a few minutes later it began to move up again. Third floor, fourth floor - he was letting her go up. Manuel must have agreed to see her. The lift halted at the penthouse floor, and she stepped out. There was the door of the apartment; she knocked. Almost immediately the door was opened, but not by Manuel Cortez; the beautiful creature who had accompanied Manuel at London Airport was standing staring appraisingly at her. At close range she was even more lovely, her hair black as night, her skin smooth and creamy, her mature figure pushing voluptuously against the thin folds of the Tricel sheath dress she was wearing. For a girl of sixteen she was remarkably adult. 'Yes?' she said now. 'The commissionaire said you wished to see my father. Can I help you? I am Pilar Cortez.'

Julie swallowed hard. 'Is ... is your father at home?' 'No>he is in town. Why?' Her manner was a little childish, but her eyes fixed on Julie's face were somehow avid and deliberately insolent. Julie linked her fingers. 'When will he be back?' 'In a short time. It is already past the time when he said he would be back, but he is with Dolores Arriviera, and when he is with her he forgets the time.' 'I see.' Julie took a step backwards. 'Thank you, senorita.' 'No, wait. Do you wish to come in and wait for him?' 'Thank you, no.' Julie shook her head. 'It's not urgent. Good-bye, senorita.' 'Who shall I say has called?' Julie reached the lift. 'No one of importance,' she replied, and stepped inside hurriedly. The lift glided down smoothly, much quicker than it had come up. Julie stepped out in the foyer and immediately was confronted by the outraged commissionaire. 'Was the senorita very angry?' he asked, his voice cold and clipped. 'How dare you rush in here without permission?' 'I'm sorry. I thought ... oh, what does it matter?' Julie shook her head. 'I've said I'm sorry. What more can I say?'

'A great deal more, miss. Would you care to give me your name? And your address? I intend mentioning this matter to Senor Cortez when he returns.' A cold draught suddenly issued across the hall, and Julie shivered. Someone had come in. 'What do you intend mentioning to me? ... Julie!' It was Manuel. Julie stared at him as though mesmerised; but the commissionaire was beginning to look uncomfortable. 'You know this young lady, sir?' 'Of course.' Manuel shook his head when the commissionaire would have said more. 'Later, Curtis, later.' His voice was still cold, Julie noticed. Polite, but cold. 'Why are you here, Julie?' Julie shook her head. 'I... I... oh, Manuel, can we go somewhere and talk, please?' Manuel hesitated. 'Pilar is in the apartment,' he murmured thoughtfully. 'I know. I've just met her.' 'Indeed?' Manuel studied her a moment. 'There is only the car. It will be cold, but at least we will be atone.' 'All right.' The car was cold, but Manuel started the motor, and said: 'Come, I will take you for a drive. The car will warm us then.'

They drove along the Edgware Road out towards Stanmore and when the heater was fully operable and the car warm and comfortable, he stopped and said: 'Okay, let's have it!' Julie sighed and looked at him weakly. 'I... I know it sounds stupid, but I have to apologize.' 'There's no need.' 'There's every need. Heavens, I made a complete fool of myself, and I'm sorry. I... I didn't know about Pilar.' 'So now you do. And you've apologized. Okay, is that it? I accept your apology. Anything else?' Julie stared at him. 'No. Nothing else.' 'Good.' He glanced back along the road. It was quite a busy road and he said: 'Is there another way back to town, to save us turning.' 'Yes. Shall I direct you?' Julie's body felt frozen despite the heat of the car. 'If you would,' Manuel nodded. He drew out his cigarette case. 'Do you want one?' Julie nodded, took a cigarette, and directed the flame of his lighter to its tip. Then she drew deeply on it and sat back in her seat. She had not been aware of it earlier, but she had been sitting forward stiffly. Manuel put his cigarette between his lips and loosened die buttons of the thick quilted car coat he was wearing. His hair was tousled a little from the wind when he had been out earlier, and curled in the nape of , his neck. Julie had a compelling desire to run her fingers through his

hair. She looked away from him with an effort. Had he come straight from Dolores Arriviera's arms? Julie could not suppress the thought. He was so cool, so detached, she wanted to shock him out of his apathy towards her, but she did not know how to achieve such a thing. Unable to prevent the words, she said: 'Your daughter told me you were with Dolores Arriviera.' 'Yes,' he said shortly, adjusting the rear-view mirror. Julie clenched her fists. 'Do you love her?' The words were torn from her. Manuel looked sideways at her. 'Love? What is love?' He switched on the ignition. 'Shall we go?' 'Manuel!' Julie threw her cigarette out of the window and stared helplessly at him. He studied her mockingly. 'What is this? Do I sense a feeling of frustration?' Julie shivered. 'Please, Manuel, don't tease me! I came to see you because I had to. I couldn't let it go....' 'And now you wish you had,' he remarked shrewdly. 'Well, no ... I mean ... yes ... at least--' Julie shook her head. 'Weren't you pleased to see me? Not at all? I mean, don't you care about me?' 'What would you like me to answer to that?' Manuel shrugged. 'Look, Julie, I don't make this kind of running. I liked you, I wanted you - I desired you, if you like. But that was all! If you hated me so much you had to throw it in my face, okay.' He spread his hands. 'That's it! It's over. I don't need you, honey.'

'But that night …' 'That night I was angry, sure I was really mad. I could have strangled you, but only because my pride was hurt, nothing more.' 'I don't believe it.' Julie's cry was from the heart. 'Okay, honey. Believe what you want, but don't expect to weave your fantasies into fact, because it just doesn't happen! I'm leaving for the States in a week. Good-bye, Julie.' He started the engine resolutely. 'Now, which way?'

CHAPTER SEVEN JULIE got through the next couple of days with difficulty. She felt numb, unable to assimilate her circumstances, which was just as well, as it happened. She could not believe Manuel could be so cruel, and yet she had witnessed already his treatment of women like Dolores Arriviera. He had dropped her at the end of Faulkner Road on Saturday afternoon with a casual farewell, and she had walked home automatically. So she remained until Sunday evening when she finally decided she must shake this depression from her. And the only way she could seriously do that was by agreeing with Samantha's suggestion to go to the States with them. She still had not completely recovered from her illness, and her appetite was practically non-existent. Fighting off depression had become so natural to her that she thought she would never feel normal again. She went round to the Barlows' flat to tell them of her decision and found Samantha already preparing for the trip. 'Oh, darling,' she exclaimed when Julie told her of her decision, 'I'm so pleased. It will do you the world of good, and who knows who you might meet over there. Maybe a college professor will take a fancy to you. Who knows!' Julie smiled wanly. 'Just at this moment that seems highly unlikely,' she replied, 'but I guess the change of climate might help somewhat.' 'Of course it will, honey. Ben ... Ben! Julie's going with us after all.' Ben expressed his approval, and then he wait out for a while and Samantha made them some coffee.

'Come on,' she said, when they were seated with cigarettes. 'What's on your mind? What brought you to this decision? Did you go see Manuel?' Julie sighed. 'Yes.' She drew on her cigarette deeply. 'He told me in no uncertain terms that I meant nothing to him.' 'Oh, Julie!' 'Well, at least he was honest. And now it's over. That's it!' Samantha nodded. 'Perhaps it's just as well. If you had allowed yourself to submit to him you would have regretted it bitterly. Paul is much more your type, and after this trip is over you can come back and marry him and forget all about sexy Latin- Americans.' Julie managed a small smile, but Samantha noticed^ it did not quite reach her eyes. 'Now,' she went on, 'let's discuss Tony, shall we? I shall have to give you all the necessary tips about feeding and so on. Actually, he takes a little solid food now, so you've quite a lot to learn.' Julie smiled at this. 'I shall probably make a complete hash of things,' she said. 'After all, I've never actually handled a baby before.' 'Oh, it's simple,' replied Samantha breezily. 'Even Ben has gotten the hang of it. He adores nursing Tony, and I have to bully him into working when Tony is awake.' Julie thought again how lucky her friend was. Samantha's life seemed so uncomplicated compared to her own. 'By the way,' said Samantha, 'did I tell you exactly where we're going in California?' and as Julie shook her head, she went on: 'San

Francisco, actually, although I believe both the university and the house which we've been granted for the duration of our stay are further along the coast towards Monterey. You've heard of Monterey, of course/ 'Of course.' 'Well, the students at the colleges board there, and the house we've been given sounds dreamy. I believe it's one of these ranch-style dwellings, all on one level, with our own stretch of beach. Just think, Julie, we'll be able to swim every day.' She patted her already fiat tummy appreciatively. 'It will help me to get back my figure. Having a baby is all right, but it certainly pulls you out of shape.' 'You look all right to me,' remarked Julie dryly. 'But I agree, it will be wonderful to swim, and in warm water, too.' 'We'll come back brown as berries,' chortled Samantha, and then seeing the pain on Julie's face, she changed the subject. When Julie left Samantha's she felt a little better. Now that she had decided to go it lifted some of the depression. After all, a trip to the States was exciting in itself, and sufficient to arouse Julie from her inertia. There was much to do, and she had only a week to do it in.

She told her parents of her decision when she reached home. Her mother and father were sitting together watching television when she went in, and she broke the news immediately. 'Good,' said her father at once. 'Perhaps it will shake you out of this state of misery you seem to have elapsed into. I don't know the true cause of it, but I guess it's something to do with some man or other. Am I right?'

Julie twisted her hands together. 'Yes, you're right. Mother knows this already.' 'Yes, I was sure she did. But she hasn't discussed it with me. Do you want to?' 'Not really,' said Julie, sighing. 'Very well, I won't force you. But what about Paul? Don't you think it's about time he was put in the picture?' 'Of course I do,' said Julie. 'But I didn't decide definitely until today.' 'But you've known about this man longer, haven't you? What's wrong? Is he married? Julie stiffened. 'No, he's not married. At least, he was; he's divorced now.' 'I see. And doesn't he want to marry you?' 'No.' Her father shook his head, and her mother touched his arm. 'Joe darling, leave her alone. Can't you see she's tired?' Dr. Kennedy stood up and went over to his daughter, and turned her to face him. 'Julie, we've never had any secrets before; can't you tell us why this man doesn't want to marry you? Do you love him?' 'I thought I did. I don't know now. He... he doesn't love me.' Her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands.

Dr. Kennedy drew her against his shoulder, and she cried bitterly, relieving a lot of her tension hi the racking sobs. Then, as they subsided, she said quietly: 'I can't explain it all, but I don't exactly blame him. He's from a very different environment from ours, and his ways are not our ways.' 'He's a foreigner, then,' said her mother. Julie nodded, and then moved towards the door. 'I'll go to bed now, if you don't mind. I'll... I'll tell Paul tomorrow. Don't worry, I'll be all right.' There was only Paul left now, and he would not accept her decision when she told him of it. 'You can't be serious!' he exclaimed. 'Why, if you go now, it will be April before you return.' 'That's right, Paul.' 'But why? What's all this about? I thought we loved one another.' 'Oh, Paul, I tried to make it clear at Christmas that I wasn't certain any more. Let me go away. It will be for the best.' 'You're being mesmerized by this trip,' he accused her hotly. 'It's this trip to California that's tempting you.' 'That's not true.' 'It is. Samantha ought never to have asked you. You're no children's nurse, anyway.' 'All you say is true, but Samantha didn't make the decision, I did.'

'But why? Aren't you happy at Fordhams?' 'Of course I am. But when I told the welfare officer this morning that I was leaving, and told him what I intended to do, he told me that if I cared to go and see him when I get back I might get my old job back again.' Paul hunched his shoulders. 'Is there someone else?' Julie flushed. 'Yes... and no.' 'What is that supposed to mean?' 'It means there's someone I could love, but he doesn't love me.' Paul stared at her in disbelief. 'Do I know him?' 'Not exactly. Oh, please, Paul, I've been through all this with Mum and Dad; I can't tell you. The information is not wholly mine to give. Can you forgive me?' She bit her lip awkwardly. 'I'm sure I'm not the girl for you, Paul. Maybe while I'm away you'll find the right one. I don't want you to hang around waiting for me. Our relationship is over, I'm afraid.' 'Will you write to me while you're away?' She shook her head. 'It's better not, Paul. Forget about me. I'm not worth worrying about anyway.' 'That's easier said than done,' replied Paul moodily. 'Oh, Julie, Julie, why can't things go on the way they have done this past year between us? We were happy; I know we were.' Julie turned away. 'We've both known for some time that things are not exactly as they used to be,' she said. 'You must have sensed it, Paul.'

Paul-flushed. 'All right, of course I did. But I didn't want to bring it out into the open like this. I hoped that given time you might come to your senses.' 'But I have,' exclaimed Julie. 'Paul, don't you see, if we married each other knowing everything was not as it should be, what do you think would happen? We'd both be miserable within a year. That's not the way it should be. I've wondered sometimes whether you have any conception of the way love can be. The burning desire inside you to be with one person, the longing to see them, to touch them; to love them!' She bent her head. Paul was embarrassed. He was not a demonstrative man, and he did not like Julie to talk this way. She had never done so before, and he felt uncomfortable. 'Well,' he said, fastening his coat briskly, 'if that's the way it is, there's nothing more to be said. I'm still not satisfied that you're not just living in a dream world, putting this man, whoever he is, on a pedestal that is bound to collapse. But I won't argue with you now. Good-bye, Julie.' 'Good-bye, Paul. I'm sorry it had to be this way.' 'So am I!' said Paul stiffly, and went out quickly, before he said any more. They left London Airport at the end of February very early in the morning, warmly clad in woollen clothes and thick overcoats. All Ben's equipment had been dispatched earlier to arrive before them. 'Roll on the warm weather,' he said, as he seated himself between the two women in the forward compartment of the airliner. Tony lay peacefully in his carry-cot by their side. 'Oh, girls, just think of it, six weeks in the sun!'

Julie did think of it. She purposely cleared her mind of all other considerations and concentrated on the prospect ahead of her. By doing this she managed to attain a kind of balance for the first time since Manuel's departure. But the flight, which took almost seven hours, ended all too soon and Julie's no-man's-land of transition up in the sky was over. As the aircraft sighted Labrador and then turned south over Gander, heading irrevocably for John F. Kennedy Airport, she realized reality was overtaking her again. Looking down through slender swathes of cloud, clearing now in the morning light, they saw forests and rivers, lakes and estuaries, and finally the unmistakable skyline of Manhattan. The plane slanted down, curved and touched the tarmac, and taxied to a halt near the airport buildings. Although Julie felt as though she had left her stomach somewhere up in the air, excitement ran through her like an electric current as they emerged from the plane and stepped on to American soil for the first time. There was so much to see, so many things to take in and digest, and so little time. They spent four days in New York before flying on to San Francisco. During those four days Samantha and Julie were almost walked off their feet, for Samantha did not believe that too much car-riding' was good for a baby, and as they had the attachments which turned the carry-cot into a small pram they pushed Tony almost everywhere. The amount of traffic was terrifying at first, but they soon got used to it, and as Ben's ideas of what he wanted to see differed from the girls', usually he went his way alone. Samantha and Julie found Madison Avenue, and the Empire State Building far more exciting than the Museum of Modern Art where Ben spent most of his time. Then there was Central Park; here it was possible to forget you were in the centre of the largest city in the United States, and the stretches of green grass and boating lakes reminded Julie of London.

But after four hectic days it was a relief to sink into their seats in the aircraft which was to transport them to the west coast and a different way of life.

CHAPTER EIGHT MARCH in California was a beautiful time, and from what Julie had gathered from the residents spring and autumn were the best times to visit. The air was warm and clear, the gardens burgeoned with colour, and the sea was warm and as blue as the sky so that the horizon melted into it. The house Ben had been granted for the duration of their stay faced the Pacific Ocean, and the continual sound of the waves provided a background to their days. The beach lay down a cliff path from the house, and breakers creamed on a beach that was almost white, and fringed with caves. The university was at Santa Marta, a small township some thirty-five miles from San Francisco, and Ben's house was on the outskirts of the town along a stretch of highway where all the houses were palatial to Julie's astonished eyes. Their own particular dwelling was single-storied, with a sloping roof shading a surrounding verandah, and a patio made bright with painted bamboo furniture. The patio gave an uninterrupted view of the ocean so that most meals were taken here. Ben had a couple of days before he started his lectures at the university, and during this time he took Samantha and Julie and baby Tony into San Francisco and showed them the sights. They had managed to hire a baby carriage for Tony, which folded neatly into the huge trunk of the Cadillac provided for Ben by the university. But when Ben began his duties, the two girls spent most of their days at the house, lazing around or swimming from the beach, and generally taking it easy. The housework was done by a middle-aged woman called Mrs. Sparks who lived in Santa Marta, and as she had seven children of her own, all grown up now, of course, she was only too willing to take charge of Tony when the girls went swimming. Tony seemed to take to her enormously, and cried when Julie took him away to feed or bath him.

By the end of the first week Julie was beginning to feel a bit of a fraud. Apart from assisting Samantha with Tony's washing, and occasionally looking after him in the evenings when Ben and Samantha attended dinner parties given by members of the fraternity, she seemed to have little or nothing to do. Tony was a good baby, and as he was only a little over two months old, he slept most of the time, waking only for meals. Samantha herself liked to do as much for him as she could, and consequently Julie began to feel superfluous. 'Samantha,' she said one afternoon, when they were relaxing on the verandah after a delicious lunch served by Mrs. Sparks, 'I really think you got me to come with you under false pretences, and as for paying me a wage, as well as my keep, for doing nothing ... well, I simply can't allow it.' Samantha laughed. 'Oh, Julie,' she exclaimed, 'what a conscientious little creature you are, aren't you? Good heavens, can't you see that I'd be bored stiff here all day without anyone to talk to?' "That's all very well, but I'm sure you could make friends with people out here, and ask them to come for a visit or something,' replied Julie. 'I mean, what do I do? I occasionally feed Tony, and I bath fate every evening. Other than that, I might just as well not be here. I understood you wanted to be free to do as you pleased, and yet here you are, constantly on hand to look after his every wish.' Samantha giggled. 'Well, you see, Julie, I didn't realize how much I enjoyed doing things for Tony myself. Honestly, when I first invited you to come I thought being a mother was going to be a bit of a bore. But it's not!' Julie sighed. 'So what now?' 'So nothing. You relax, darling, have a good time. Look, why don't you go into San Francisco one day yourself? I can cope here, and you

didn't see much that day Ben took us in. You were coping with Tony then, but I'm sure you'd enjoy yourself much better alone.' Julie shrugged. 'Oh, I don't know. I mean, you're making me feel as though I'm the one who's on holiday, when really it should be you!' 'Well, darling, you're losing those ghastly shadow's from under your eyes, and I think this trip is doing you the world of good.' Julie nodded. 'You're right, of course. I do feel heaps better, but I still feel guilty.' 'Well, don't. I'm perfectly happy, and enjoying your company.' Julie smiled, and squeezed her friend's hand. 'Oh, Sam,' she said, 'thank you.' When Ben came home that evening, he looked rather flushed and disturbed, and Julie, wondering whether anything had gone wrong at the university, discreetly left him and Samantha alone. It was not until later, when dinner was over and Ben had gone to compose his lecture for the following day, that Samantha told Julie what had happened. 'Ben has seen Manuel Cortez,? she said bluntly, angry in a way that she should have to bring that man's name up again. 'Manuel?' said Julie, tightly, frowning. 'But how ... I mean... I didn't know Ben knew him.' 'He didn't - at least, only by sight, of course. But you see, apparently Ben mentioned to these colleagues at the university that he considered Manuel's face interesting. You know he said as much to us.' Julie nodded. 'Well, apparently ...' Samantha sighed heavily, 'one of these professors is friendly with Manuel's brother, Felipe, and he mentioned it to him, and Felipe must have told Manuel. Anyway, Ben

arranged to have lunch today with Felipe, just to discuss his work, and who should turn up during the course of the meal but Manuel himself?' 'So he's back in the States, then.' Julie's voice was merely a whisper. Samantha nodded. 'Ben was amazed. I suppose from the way we had discussed him he had thought Manuel to be some kind of ogre, but he said he was charming, and Ben was quite charmed by him. Anyway, the whole outcome is that Manuel has agreed for Ben to take some sketches of him to use in his next exhibition, and Ben will be going out to Manuel's home to do them.' She spread wide her hands. 'I had to tell you, darling. I mean, it's no use pretending, is it?' Julie shook her head. 'Of course not,' she said stiffly. 'Oh, honestly, Samantha, this makes me feel worse than ever.' 'Why? You needn't see him. Good lord, California is an enormous place, and Manuel doesn't live in San Francisco, he lives in Monterey. But I couldn't let Ben go there without telling you the truth.' 'It's not that,' said Julie uncomfortably. 'What if he should find out I'm here? He'll think I'm following him.' 'Samantha scoffed, 'Why, that's ridiculous! He was still in England when we left. For all you knew, he might have been going on an extended tour of the Continent, not coming straight back here. And in any case, you didn't know where he lived, did you?' 'He mentioned that he lived in California,' admitted Julie dully. 'But I honestly never expected to see him.' 'I know you didn't, darling. Anyway, Ben won't mention you, so relax. After all, if we think logically about this, it's a marvellous opportunity for Ben.'

Julie smiled. 'I know, Sam. I'm sorry I'm burdening you with my problems.' Samantha shook her gently. 'Now don't be silly. You go ahead and do what I suggested. Have a trip into San Francisco tomorrow, and forget all about Manuel Cortez.' Ben drove Julie into the city the next morning before going to the university. He wanted to get some materials which he couldn't get in Santa Marta, and he dropped her near the city centre, agreeing that she should take a taxi back to the house later. After Ben had driven away, Julie felt a little aimless. It was one thing to agree to go exploring alone, but quite another to do it. Finally she took a cable car to Fisherman's Wharf and spent some time around the harbour. It was fascinating, and she was tempted to go out on one of the boat tours, but deciding she hadn't the time, she abandoned the idea. The tourist attractions of the souvenir shops did not appeal to her and she glanced idly through her guide book, wondering where to go next. Leaving the spectacle of Oakland Bridge behind her, she turned into one of the lesser-known streets leading up from the docks. Here was a part of San Francisco which seemed to have changed little for many years, with bars and resthouses for seamen jostling coffee shops and warehouses. Julie was about to turn back to the main street again when her eyes were drawn to a beautifully polished step leading into an equally polished-looking old building with 'Seamen's Mission Hospital' written in. fading letters on a sign above the door. She smiled, putting her head on one side as she did so, and wondered about the building's history. Had it been there since the days of the Gold Rush in the mid-nineteenth century, when men from all over the world had surged to the fields in search of fortune?

As she stood there, the figure of a nun appeared in the doorway, looking thoughtfully up and down the street as though in search of something or someone. When she saw Julie she frowned, as though surprised to find any tourist in this part of the city. Then she descended the steps and came towards her. 'Good morning,' she said, her greeting warm and enveloping. 'Good morning, Sister,' replied Julie. 'It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?' The sister nodded, preoccupied with her thoughts. Then: 'You do not by any chance speak Polish, do you, child?' Julie's eyes widened. 'I'm afraid not.' The sister compressed her lips. 'Of course. It was too good to be true. But when I saw you standing there, I thought perhaps ' Her voice trailed away. 'Ah, well, it is better that you should return to the busier thoroughfares, my dear. This can be a ... a dangerous area for a young girl to walk alone. Are you lost?' 'No. I'm afraid I was exploring. I'm sorry I can't help you at all. I'm afraid French and German are my only languages, apart from English, of course.' She smiled a little self-consciously. 'German. German!' The sister frowned. 'German, perhaps.' Julie stared at her curiously. The sister smiled now. 'Oh, you will be thinking I am a little mad, I'm sure. It is just that we have a patient, a Polish seaman, who was brought in last night after he had been found groaning in the gutter. He speaks no English, and it is obvious from our examinations that he has an acute appendicitis. It is essential that we make him understand that he needs an emergency operation, for there might be a

perforation at any time. We have been unable to speak with him, and I am at my wits' end. Your arrival may indeed be a godsend if you can make him understand you. Would you do this for us?' 'Well, of course,' exclaimed Julie, at once. 'I only hop? he can understand my accent.' 'Let us hope he understands German,' agreed the sister fervently, and led the way back into the hospital. As they passed the tiled entrance hall Julie noticed that although everywhere was spotless, it was obvious the hospital was very old, and die crumbling walls in places bore witness to this effect. The sister led the way to a long ward, crowded with beds and patients with every kind of fracture and injury, as well as some men who lay staring vacantly into space as though unaware of their surroundings. Julie's entrance caused quite a stir, and she tried to ignore the interested glances cast in her direction. The Polish seaman did indeed look very ill when they reached him, screened from the rest of the ward by tall sheeted screens. Another sister was sitting beside his bed, and she rose at their arrival and drew back. The seaman's face was pinched and white, enhanced by the rough blackness of the hair and stubble on his chin. He stared uncomprehendingly at them, his eyes mirroring the pain he was having. Julie seated herself beside him, and said: 'Do you speak German?' in that language. The man's eyes brightened a little. Ja, ja!' His voice, swift and tremulous, betrayed his relief at having found someone to understand him.

Wasting no time, Julie explained the situation to him. It was obvious from his ejaculations and gestures he had had no idea of the precariousness of his position. Julie rose to her feet. 'He appears to have thought he had food poisoning,' she said to the sister. 'The food on the ship was very bad, but of course now he understands, and is eager to have the operation over with. I've explained how he came to be here, and he's more relaxed now.' 'Ah!' The sister breathed a sigh of relief. 'You see how it is here? How busy we axe? It is difficult to get staff, and until the new hospital is completed things will not improve.' 'You're to have a new building?' asked Julie. 'Yes, soon, I hope. The plans have been passed, and soon we will be able to see the foundations laid. It will be much better.' 'I'm sure it will,' agreed Julie, looking round the crowded ward, conscious of the speculative glances cast in her direction by its occupants. 'And now we have taken up enough of your time,' said the sister politely, walking to the door. 'I hope you did not mind my asking you to interpret for us.' 'Of course not,' exclaimed Julie. 'Do you think it would be a good idea if I came back in the morning? The man will have had his operation by then and may need an interpreter.' The sister looked surprised. 'Why, yes, I think that is a very good idea. If that is what you would like to do. And if it is not imposing upon your time. You are on holiday?'

'Sort of. But I'm sure I could come if you think it's useful for me to do so.' Julie wondered as she said this what Samantha would say, and then she thought that probably Samantha would be pleased that she had found something so entirely removed from Manuel Cortez with which to pass the time. The sister smiled. 'You are English, aren't you? Yes, I thought you were. Whatever are you doing exploring the back streets of San Francisco? Surely there is plenty to interest you amongst the tourist attractions.' Julie' shrugged. 'I'm afraid I wasn't much in the mood for tourist attractions,' she confessed. 'So I'll come back tomorrow, yes?' 'Very well. I shall look forward to seeing you, Miss ... Miss....' 'Kennedy, Julie Kennedy.' 'Very well, Miss Kennedy. My name is Sister Moran. Ask for me here in the vestibule if I an not around when you arrive.' 'All right.' Julie said her good-byes and left. She walked back along the street thinking of the Polish seaman. It was good to feel needed again. But going back to Santa Marta in the taxi her doubts returned. What if Samantha needed her to take care of Tony in the morning? What if she objected to Julie's arranging something like this without discussing it with them? Of course the sister did not know her address, and would not be able to trace her should she fail to return. But she knew somehow that she would find the way to go back there. Something seemed to be compelling her to go back, and she had no will to resist.

Samantha was not so much angry as concerned for Julie's welfare. 'Julie!' she exclaimed, when Julie related the incident to her. 'Whatever possessed you to say you would go back again? Heavens, the man is having the operation, isn't he? There's nothing else for you to do.' 'But he can't speak to them. He has to make signals for everything he wants from them. Surely I was only acting naturally to agree to help them.' 'And do you mean to tell me that there is no one else in San Francisco who speaks German?' 'Of course not. But they're terribly busy there. The wards are filled with men, and they're obviously understaffed. They simply don't have the time to go out looking for an interpreter. Anyway, so long as I'm not upsetting any plans of yours, I will go. It will be something for me to do. As you said yesterday, I should occupy my time.' Samantha conceded defeat. 'All right, darling, you go. But don't blame me if this Sister Moran ropes you in for chores like emptying bedpans and dishing out the meals. From your attitude, I should think she'll think you're desperately in need of an occupation.' Julie laughed a little. 'Occupational therapy,' she remarked, and Samantha nodded. 'By the way,' she said, lighting a cigarette, 'how are you proposing to get to San Francisco in the morning? Ben won't be able to take you. He ... he's going out to Monterey, actually.' Julie's mouth went dry. 'To Manuel's?'

'Yes. It was all fixed up today. Manuel apparently has some free time, and he and Claude Christian ... have you heard of him? The lyric writer? ... Well, anyway, he and this Claude Christian are collaborating oh the writing of a musical, Manuel composing the music, and the other chap writing the words. Get the picture?' 'Clearly,' murmured Julie softly. 'So?' 'Oh, yes, Ben is invited out to spend a little time with them. He can take his sketches while they're working. It's an ideal arrangement.' 'Ideal,' echoed Julie. Samantha sighed. 'So how are you getting to town?' 'Well, I'll ring for a cab. If I leave about eight I should be back about twelve.' 'Relax,' said Samantha, drawing on her cigarette. 'Don't, come rushing back here on Tony's account. I shall be here all day with nothing to do except look after him. Have a meal in 'Frisco, and then come back. At your leisure.' Julie hugged her. 'Oh, Sam, you are good to me!' 'Yes, I am, aren't I?' remarked Sam dryly, and then returned the hug. During dinner that evening it was inevitable that Ben should accidentally mention the following day, and Julie, seeing Samantha's annoyed stare at her husband, said: 'Please, don't treat me like a piece of glass. I won't break. For goodness' sake, Ben, be natural. Talk about Manuel Cortez if you want to. Obviously it's very exciting for you, and I don't expect you to bottle it all up. You wouldn't if I wasn't here, so do go on. I'm interested. Really!'

Ben grunted and then said: 'Well, I leave in the morning and I should be back before dinner. The house, shouldn't be too difficult to find. The peninsula drive runs round to Carmel and the houses on this drive sound to be quite something. His house is called Cyprus Lake.' 'Charming,' said Samantha, and Julie could not tell whether she was being sarcastic or not. Julie left them after dinner still discussing Ben's ideas for his new exhibition which he hoped to have in the autumn. It was to be on the theme of the corrida, the bullfight, and it was Manuel's dark, Spanish-style appearance which had triggered off his imagination. Julie went to bed early, but not to sleep. Once again an image of Manuel had imprinted itself on her mind, and she was loath to let it go. The next morning she dressed in navy slacks and a white over-blouse for her visit to the hospital. She slung a dark cardigan over her shoulders and was ready when the taxi came. The Seamen's Mission Hospital looked cold and stark in the clear morning light, while a faint mist from the harbour chilled the air. Julie went inside without giving herself time to change her mind, but found the hall deserted. She was looking about her, wondering where she ought to go, when a man came walking down the hall towards her. He was dressed in a white coat, signifying that he was a doctor of some sort, but in the gloomy hallway his features were strangely familiar. Julie's stomach started to churn wildly, and she thought for a second she was going a little mad. The man who had stopped in front of her was incredibly like Manuel Cortez, and except that he was not so lean, and a little shorter, at first glance he could be taken for the singer.

Julie gathered her scattered senses. This man was not Manuel, and she was behaving like an idiot. 'Can I help you?' he asked politely, his eyes grave. 'I... oh, yes! I'm Julie Kennedy. I was here yesterday. I've come to see the Polish seaman who had difficulty in making himself understood.' The man smiled. 'Ah, yes, Mr. Voletski, the appendectomy. He has had his operation, and I'm happy to say is much better.' 'Oh, good.' Julie smiled now, completely in control of herself again. 'Wh ... where is he? May I see him?' 'By ..all means.' He led the way back along the corridor, studying her curiously as they went. Possibly he was wondering why she had paled at his approach earlier, and why she was so nervous. 'My name is Cortez,' he said easily. 'Felipe Cortez. I am the resident doctor here.' Felipe Cortez! Julie stared at him. Was this the man who had introduced Ben to Manuel? It could not be such a coincidence that there were two Felipe Cortez' in San Francisco. Besides, this man was obviously Manuel's brother. That explained the resemblance. Her heart leapt uncomfortably into her throat. Was this why she had been drawn to the hospital? Was this why she had felt the compulsion to return? Because unconsciously she had sensed this man's presence, and his closeness to Manuel? A familiar figure met them at the door to the ward. It was Sister Moran. She smiled.

'So, Miss Kennedy, you have come back! I am very glad. I wondered if perhaps, after you had left the hospital, the urge to return would desert you.' Julie shook her head. 'I wanted to come,' she said simply, and then seated herself beside the patient's bedside. Igor Voletski looked much better this morning. He had been shaved and his hair had been combed, and he looked a different proposition from the rather wild man of the previous afternoon. Julie talked to him for a little while, conscious all the time of Felipe Cortez in the ward, of his gentle handling of the other patients, and of their obvious liking of him. Like Manuel he possessed charm, and used his to gain the confidence of men who in many cases had grown remote from the companionship of other seamen like themselves. When she left the ward, she encountered Sister Moran, who invited her into her office for some coffee. Here she was introduced to Sisters Donahue and Jameson, and later they were joined by Felipe himself. It was companionable, sitting in the tiny office, drinking delicious coffee, and listening to the nuns talking about their patients. They good-humouredly glossed over the unpleasant tasks they had to undertake, the incurable cases of cancer they found, sometimes quite by accident, and the hard, tiring work of running the wards for men who did not always appreciate what was being done for them, and who tried to break the rules at every opportunity. It was only a little after nine when, coffee break over, the sisters returned to their duties. Julie felt uncomfortably aware of her own empty day stretching ahead of her, and said impulsively: 'Is there anything I could do? I mean, while I'm here, surely I could help.'

Sister Moran shook her head in amazement. 'Are you serious, child?' 'Of course I'm serious. I ... I'd like to help. If I could.' Sister Moran did not offer any unnecessary objections, but instead provided Julie with an overall, a mop and a bucket, and asked her to begin by mopping out the wards. Julie set to work with a will. At last she felt she was doing something useful, and she found she could ignore the ribald comments of the men if she put her mind to it. In, a side ward she came upon a young girl of about twelve or thirteen, who was lying reading comics and eating chocolates, and grinned cheekily at Julie and offered her a chocolate. Julie disguised her curiosity, deciding it was not her business to pry, and accepted the chocolate with a smiling 'thanks'. After her mopping spree there were beds to tidy, bedpans to distribute and then clear away, and thermometers to be popped into mouths to await the checking of the sisters. Apart from the three sisters and Dr. Cortez there were only two orderlies doing work of the kind she was doing, and a cook in the kitchen who provided the meals. Considering there were three wards, not counting the side ward, all filled with patients, the place was badly understaffed. By lunchtime, after serving one of the wards with stew and meat balls, sponge pudding and tea, Julie felt exhausted. Sister Moran noticed her pale face, and said firmly: 'It is time you were leaving, Miss Kennedy. You have helped us enormously, but there is no point in tiring yourself unnecessarily. Thank you for everything. Goodbye.'

Julie took off her overall. 'W ... would you mind if I came again?' she asked. 'I mean, I've quite enjoyed it, actually.' Sister Moran laughed. 'My dear,' she exclaimed, 'come whenever you like. We never turn help away here. Do we, Felipe?' as the doctor came in. Felipe looked kindly at Julie. 'You are coming again?' 'If I may.' He shook his head. 'But why?' Sister Moran patted his shoulder. Don't ask questions, Felipe. The child wants to come- let her come. She has been a great help to me.' Felipe looked at Julie thoughtfully. Then he shrugged, and drew off his white coat. 'Come, I will take you to your hotel.' ^ Julie flushed. 'Oh, really, but that's not at all necessary. I... I don't live ... I mean, I'm staying in Santa Marta.' 'Good. I shall enjoy the drive.' Felipe was firm. Julie sighed. She certainly did not want Felipe Cortez to learn of her address. If he connected her with Benedict Barlow, Manuel would be bound to find out eventually. Sister Moran smiled. 'Take it easy, Felipe. The child is not used to your Latin ways.' She was openly amused. Felipe buttoned the jacket of his faultlessly tailored grey suit. Without the coat he looked even more like Manuel; dark skin, dark eyes, white even teeth.

'Come,' he said, his eyes laughing. 'All right,' Julie shrugged, and preceded him out of the building. At the rear of the hospital was a small parking area, and here they found Felipe's cream Cadillac, a super- luxurious limousine, typically American in style and comfort. Julie relaxed on the deep leather upholstery, feeling tiny aches and pains disappear with the superb springing. It was wonderful to lie back and know someone else was in control. But that would never do. She sat up nervously. They had left the car-park now and were gliding up the hill away from the harbour. 'Have you eaten?' he asked. 'I mean, did you have any lunch there?' Julie shook her head. 'No. Have you?' 'No. Shall we lunch together?' She smiled. 'Ought I to? On such a short acquaintance?' 'I'm trustworthy,' he remarked, and turned off die- main thoroughfare. They ate at a restaurant high above the harbour, where the food was good and rather different from Julie's usual menu. They ate Olympia oysters and stone crab, together with a salad so crisp and juicy it made Julie's mouth water. Fresh fruit and whipped cream completed the meal, while American coffee made a pleasant accompaniment to their cigarettes afterwards. 'Now,' said Felipe, 'tell me about yourself. What brings you here - to the States, and particularly to the west coast?' Julie was flummoxed. She didn't know-how to reply, so she said:

'I ... well... actually I'm a nanny to a baby boy, but as his mother enjoys looking after him herseif, Fm afraid I'm rather superfluous at the moment.' Felipe frowned. 'An English couple?' he asked. 'Well... yes.' He nodded. 'There are several English families in Santa Marta.' Julie breathed a sigh of relief. For once she had been lucky. Was that all he would ask? But no, Felipe asked about Ben, or rather her employer, and what his work might be. She decided to make up an occupation, and chose writer. Felipe seemed to accept this, and after asking what kind of writing, to which Julie replied travelogues, he gave up the catechism, and began talking about the hospital. Julie questioned him about the girl she had seen in the side ward. 'Who is she?' she asked. 'I mean, it seed's so unusual to see a young girl in a hospital composed entirely of men.' Felipe smiled. 'Yes, I suppose it does seem strange,' he agreed. 'However, in that particular child's case it was the best thing that could ever happen to her. Her name is Teresa, and she is of Italian extraction, but unfortunately with parents who cared not a jot for her. She had a permanent limp, caused by a malformation of the hip which would obviously be improved by surgery, but her parents never had the kind of money necessary to pay for such treatment, even had they wanted to do so, which I doubt. A man, someone I know, saw the child, and because he recognized in Teresa something of the misery which he himself had known he agreed to make himself responsible for her treatment.'

'How marvellous!' Julie was fascinated. 'And now?' 'Now she is awaiting treatment. We have taken tests, and X-rays, and it will be necessary to slightly shorten the bone of her left thigh. We hope the operation will considerably better her manner of walking, and with luck her limp will be barely noticeable.' 'I think that's marvellous,' said Julie, repeating herself. Felipe smiled indulgently. 'Good. So now you have enjoyed our lunch?' At her enthusiastic nod, he looked pleased. 'We must repeat the experience quite soon.' 'I'd like that,' said Julie, forgetting momentarily who he was. Then, remembering, she said quickly: 'And now I must go.' 'Yes. I will take you home.' 'No! That is ... I'd rather you didn't, thank you. I... er.... I've got a little shopping to do first, and I can easily take a cab later. But thank you, all the same.' Felipe was a little reluctant to agree, but he did so, and Julie was relieved. It resolved her immediate problems, at least. Back at the house Samantha was horrified when Julie told her what she had been doing. 'What did I say?' she stormed angrily. 'You were a fool to go back. Heavens, Julie, you must have been mad to agree to do that kind of work!' Julie laughed a little at this. 'Oh, Sam, honestly! I wanted to help. It's wonderful feeling that you're actually doing something useful.' 'You can be useful to me here,' pointed out Samantha.

'Well, I know. But, Samantha, really you didn't need me, and they did.' 'Oh, very well. At least it's over now.' Julie looked uncomfortable. 'But I did say I might go back again.' She hastened on: 'I mean, if I have any free time, I may as well be doing something that takes my mind off... things.' She twisted her hands together. 'By the way, the doctor's name is Cortez. Felipe Cortez!' 'No!' Samantha stared at her. 'Manuel's brother?' 'Well, I don't know that for sure, but he's the image of him, so unless Manuel has a cousin with the same name, I guess that's who he is.' 'So! Now we have it.' Samantha looked sardonic. 'Is this Felipe very like Manuel?' 'Not in ways, really, although there are stone similarities, but in looks, yes. He's shorter and broader, but like him enough to be taken for him at a distance.' 'Oh, Julie!' 'Oh, Julie, nothing,' exclaimed Julie hotly. 'It's nothing to do with Felipe, honestly. I like the work. Anyway, as you say, my work is here. I may never go again.' 'You will,' remarked Samantha dryly. Darling,' she went on exasperatedly, 'we only want your happiness, you know that, but isn't it foolish agreeing to work with a man who on your own admission is Manuel's double?' 'Maybe. But, Samantha, he doesn't know who I am, and I certainly shall never mention Manuel, so where's the harm?'

Samantha shrugged. 'Have it your own way, darling. Come on. Ben will be home soon, and we must have a meal ready for him. By the way, you'd better not mention Felipe's name to Ben. He'll be bound to spill the beans if you do. You know how careless he can be. He just can't keep secrets. Let's hope he doesn't connect your hospital with this Felipe, seeing as he knows him now.' However, when Ben did come home he was so full of excitement over his day at Cyprus Lake that Julie's experiences were not mentioned. He told them all about the house, and the lake which gave it its name. 'It's a marvellous place,' he enthused. 'One of those hacienda-type houses with huge rooms and every amenity. The furniture isn't particularly modern, lots of satinwood and rosewood, but beautiful, and obviously expensive. Great armchairs, big enough for three, ,§pd marvellous paintings by Goya and Renoir. I'm sure they're originals; one couldn't imagine Manuel Cortez owning anything else. But nothing flashy. No jarring tones. The decorations are perfect, and Manuel himself... he told me to call him that, by the way ... he was charming.' He frowned. 'He knows quite a lot about painting, too. He seems a decent chap to me. Certainly he's no indiscriminate collector of objets d'art.' He had also met Pilar Cortez. 'What a girl!' he exclaimed, in mock-amazement. 'Samantha, why aren't you a curvaceous brunette?' Samantha threw a cushion at him. 'Why? Is she a vamp?' 'Good lord, no! She's too young for that. Besides, her boy-friends outnumber her girl-friends, I'm sure. No, it's simply that she wears these terribly short skirts, and as she's such a dish, one couldn't help but be overwhelmed by her.' He laughed. 'She went swimming while we were on the terrace, having a drink after lunch, and the bikini she

wore would have shocked even you, Sam. Manuel just ignored her, though. Maybe he feels she deserves some freedom. I believe she had rather a tough time of it when she was with her mother.' 'Did Manuel tell you that?' asked Julie, speaking for the first tune. 'Well, no ... actually it was Dolores Arriviera,' replied Ben reluctantly. 'She was there, too. Apparently she and Manuel have been working together, and she's staying at the house for a few days.' 'Oh.' Julie felt frozen suddenly. Ben hastened on. 'She seems quite a charming person,' he offered awkwardly. 'I know I'm only a man ... but their relationship seems less than loverlike.' Julie shivered. 'It's nothing to do with me, Ben,' she said chokily, wondering why it was that despite her knowledge that he was not a man to like or trust so far as women were concerned, her heart would simply not accept it.

CHAPTER NINE JULIE made friends with Teresa, the young Italian girl at the hospital. Although Teresa's English was not very grand she could make herself understood, and she liked to talk to someone who had perhaps a little more experience of life than the good Sisters of the Faith. Julie got into the habit of having her lunch with her, and gaining the child's confidence heard all about her home and various brothers and sisters, all of whom seemed to be younger than Teresa herself. Julie brought her magazines and fruit and generally took it upon herself to provide the welcome visitor, for without her intervention Teresa had no contact with the outside world. In the open ward where Julie had first spoken to Voletski, she became quite well known. She knew some of the men by name now, and also what was wrong with most of them. She turned a blind eye when she caught them playing cards behind Sister's back, but when she found evidences of alcohol she had to report than, and took their cajoling remonstrances in good part. She thought it was a pity that there was no television for the men, but Felipe said that when the new building was completed all modern amenities would be provided. As well as a substantial grant from the government, they had received generous help from an outside source which would enable them to give a fully operated service. One morning Julie arrived late at the hospital. She had slept in and hadn't somehow been able to shake off the headache which she had woken up with all morning. In addition to which everything seemed to be going wrong, from overturning her water bucket in the corridor, to trapping her fingers in the dispensary door. By lunch-time she was feeling considerably the worse for wear, and was wishing she could just go home, take a couple of aspirins and lie down for a while.

She went to the kitchens as usual at lunchtime, after providing her ward with their midday meal, to collect the tray for herself and Teresa. Her hair seemed to be damp with perspiration and she slicked it back behind her ears, wiping her forehead wearily. 'You get away directly after this, mind,' said the cook, looking anxiously at her. 'You'll be knocking yourself out, and then you'll be no help to nobody!' Julie smiled tiredly. 'I'm okay. But I shall go home soon. I've a splitting headache, and it won't budge.' 'That's right,' the cook replied kindly. 'And don't turn in tomorrow if you're no better. There's no use a pretty girl like you killing yourself for them thankless brutes!' Julie lifted the tray en which the cook had placed two bowls of an appetizing meat stew and two plates of apple dumpling and custard. She would return later for two steaming mugs of tea. The corridor had never seemed so long, nor her feet so heavy. Julie reached Teresa's room with relief and pushing open the door with her foot walked in slowly. A man was standing by Teresa's bed, leaning over her, talking to her, and Teresa was laughing as Julie had never heard her laughing before. 'Why, Felipe ...' began Julie, subconsciously wishing she had had time to run a comb through her hair, and then the tray dropped nervelessly from her fingers, spraying hot stew over her feet, as she said, disbelievingly: 'Manuel!'

'Julie!' Manuel stared at her momentarily, and then with a muffled oath he went down on his haunches beside her, mopping the drops of Kquid from her feet which as yet were too numb to feel the pain. 'What in damnation is Felipe doing, allowing you to work here Kke some blasted drudge?' he swore angrily. He kicked the tray to one side and taking her by the shoulders shook her vigorously. 'Are you all right? Are you burned?' His action brought Julie to her senses, and ^lje shook him away from her, and bending down, began to gather the broken pieces of crockery together, her fingers trembling now. Manuel hoisted her unceremoniously to her feet. 'Leave it!' he commanded furiously, thrusting hjs hands into his trousers pockets and glaring at her. 'I couldn't believe it,' he muttered, shaking his head. 'When Felipe told me there was a certain Julie Kennedy working at the hospital, I couldn't believe it was you!' 'We ... well, don't get any mistaken idea that I'm following you,' said Julie swiftly, her voice betraying a faint tremor. Manuel hunched his shoulders. 'I never said that.' 'No, but you implied it.' 'I did no such thing!' Manuel turned away, and became aware of Teresa's interested eyes. 'My God, why are you here anyway? And I don't mean on the west -coast, I mean here, in Felipe's hospital. Dammit, you don't get paid, do you?' 'No. But I enjoy the work.'

'Incredible! Anyway, come, let's find this brother of mine and get something for you. You look shot to pieces.' He turned to Teresa. 'I will come and see you again, little one.' The change in his tone was remarkable. 'The mess? began Julie helplessly. 'Someone else can deal with it You are not!' His voice brooked no argument, and for once Julie was too tired to argue. Julie followed him more slowly as he strode angrily away down the corridor towards Sister Moran's office. He obviously knew his way around and she wondered whether he visited the hospital very often to see Teresa. Could he be the man? ... but no, this didn't fit in at all with her ideas of Manuel Cortez. His actions towards her in the side ward they had just left were much more Manuel's way of acting, the angry setting-down of herself, and the evidence of the violence which lay just below the surface. Manuel glanced behind him as they neared the office, and said: 'Come, Julie. Let us hope Felipe has something alcoholic in this abstemious establishment. You could use some. You look terrible!' Julie could have told him that most of her pallor sprang from the unheralded shock of seeing him, for his arrival had aroused all her earlier emotions, and she had not forgotten that Dolores Arriviera was staying with him and might conceivably be with him. She prayed that this was not so. Felipe was surprised to see his brother, and even more surprised to hear him calling his assistant 'Julie'. Julie did not bother to explain just then; she felt too wobbly. Sister Moran was very understanding when she heard what had occurred from Manuel, and disappeared at

once to arrange the mopping-up operation, and another meal for Teresa, leaving Julie alone with the two men. Felipe produced a bottle of scotch and provided Julie with quite an enormous amount in a tumbler, and after several sips and the help of a cigarette which Manuel handed to her, already Kt, she began to feel more normal. 'I gather you know Julie,' Felipe said, looking thoughtfully at his brother. 'You didn't say anything last evening when I mentioned her name.' 'I wasn't sure it was her last evening,' replied Manuel, pacing about the room like a caged tiger. 'Does it matter?' Felipe shrugged. 'That rather depends on Julie. Did you know Manuel was my brother when you started working here?' 'No,' said Julie, truthfully if a little wearily. 'I didn't even know you were here, did I?' 'No, of course not,' Felipe smiled. 'Besides, Manuel and I hardly know one another,' went on Julie determinedly. 'We only met a couple of times in London, that's all. I suppose you could say I know you better than I know your brother.' 'I see.,' Felipe nodded, but Manuel stopped his pacing to glare at her. 'Have you finished that?' He nodded to the glass in her hand. 'As much as I want. Why?' Manuel glanced at his watch. 'It's half after twelve. You're leaving with me!'

'I don't think so,' said Julie unsteadily. 'I know so,' said Manuel, looking at Felipe as though daring him to defy him. 'You don't mind, do you, Felipe? I think she's had enough for one day,' He glanced at his watch again. 'I'll see her home.' Felipe hesitated, and Julie looked at him, almost imploringly. 'Felipe, I'm all right, really I am. Don't make me leave!' 'Well, maybe for today it would be best,' said Felipe thoughtfully. 'After all, you're looking tired, and the shock of dropping the tray seems to have disturbed you very much.' Julie could have told him that her emotional upheaval had nothing to do with dropping the tray. Even the several specks of hot liquid that had stung her foot bothered her not at all. But it seemed she was to have no choice in the matter and she rose wearily. Manuel's mouth twisted savagely. 'Come on,' he said, 'let's go.' Julie placed her glass meticulously on a side table, collected her handbag and followed Manuel out of the hospital into the sunlit street beyond. Today he was driving an open tourer Cadillac, similar to Felipe's except that it was a pale blue, with lots of chrome, and leather in a brilliant shade of orange. Julie allowed him to put her into the car, and then watched him walk round the bonnet to slide in beside her. Dressed today in a lightweight navy blue suit and a creamy-coloured shirt and dark tie, he looked lean and masculine, the close-fitting trousers revealing the muscular line of his legs. Julie noticed everything about him - the familiar gold watch on his wrist; the smooth rippling of expensive material across his shoulders as he slid into the car; the thick black length of his lashes; the Iran, tanned hardness of his hands gripping the wheel. Her heart missed a beat.

He looked at her for a moment, before setting the car in motion, and she felt selfconsciously aware of the limitations of her dark blue pants and white sleeveless sweater, a thicker cardigan slung about her shoulders. Her hair, originally caught up in a knot, was escaping in tendrils minute by minute, and she felt she must look an absolute mess! He drove up the precipitous climb out of the town and then turned south towards Ben's house and the Monterey peninsula. Leaving the main highway, he drove inland through country Julie had never seal before but which she was prevented from enjoying by the teeming activity in her stomach which seemed to be getting more sickening every minute. She could not enjoy the fabulous views spread out before her, or hear the gentle ripple of the waterfalls below them. Manuel drew the car into the park of a small roadhouse, and turned to Julie. 'We'll have lunch here. Are you hungry?' 'I don't remember you asking me whether I wanted to have lunch with you,' she said stiffly, not looking at him. 'Don't ride me,' he muttered, in a violent tone. 'Out!' As it happened, after a glass of deliciously cold Martini, Julie enjoyed her lunch. They had steaks and french fries, which Julie would have called chips, and mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick sauce. She found she was-very hungry, after all, and the red Californian wine Manuel ordered with the meal was tangy and refreshing and as good as anything Julie had tasted at home. They finished the meal with melon cocktails and more of the coffee that Julie liked so much. When it was cleared away, Manuel handed her a cigarette, and said: 'There. That wasn't so terrible, was it?'

Julie's face broke into a smile. 'I only hope no one knows you around here. I must look a terrible fright, and I feel as though I've eaten like a horse.' Manuel shrugged. 'I like to see people enjoy their food. It's important.' He drew on his cigarette. 'Well, how do you like this country?' 'I think it's marvellous,' confessed Julie, sighing. 'I feel quite at home here already. The people are all so friendly!' 'Especially Felipe,' remarked Manuel dryly. Julie shrugged. 'I like Felipe, and I think he likes me,' she replied defensively. Tm sure he does,' said Manuel coolly. 'Do you want any more coffee? Stall we go, then?' Julie climbed back into the big car whose upholstery was as comfortable as a feather bed, and lay back sleepily. She felt content, and she didn't much care where they went. She expected Manuel to ask where she was staying, but he didn't, he merely turned back towards the coast again, and let the car have its head. He took her to a quiet beach where the only occupants were a young couple with several children playing at the water's edge. It was a beautiful afternoon, and he hoisted some towels from the back of the car before saying: "Do you feel like the beach?' Julie looked across at him. 'Do you?' 'Hmm,' Manuel nodded. 'It's quiet here. Let's go down.' The towels provided lounging covers on the sands, and Manuel shed his jacket and his shirt unselfconsciously, revealing that his skin was

darkly tanned beneath. He lifted a pair of sunglasses from the pocket of his jacket and lay back lazily. 'Relax,' he said, sensing her tension. Julie hesitated and then stretched out beside him, and as the warmth of the sun spread its fingers over her bare arms she relaxed a little. She did not understand Manuel. Why should he trouble to entertain her now? Why had he been so nice to her since they left the hospital? What was behind it all? And most important, where did Dolores Arriviera fit into things? Was he taking time out from entertaining her to amuse himself with Julie as a change? Such thoughts were distasteful to her, and the muscles of her stomach tightened as he rolled on to his side and studied her, his eyes amused. 'Oh, Julie,' he said softly, 'you're such a frightened little thing underneath, aren't you? You act like the man who has hold of die tail of the tiger and daren't let go. I won't embarrass you by attempting to make love to you on a public beach! Shame on you, Julie!' Julie's lips parted in an involuntary smile. When he reduced things to such practical terms she did seem stupid. 'How... how is your daughter?' Manuel frowned. 'Pilar is fine, thank you.' Julie moved her shoulders. 'Tell me about your family. Your brothers and sisters; what do they do?' 'In my family there are two doctors, a lawyer, two technical, experts, and two building manufacturers. They are my brothers,' he said, reeling them off laconically. 'My sisters are all married, including Tina who is the youngest and only fifteen years old.'

Suddenly he reached out and pulled the hairpins out of her hair, allowing it to tumble in confusion about her face. 'That's better. I don't like it up,' he said softly. 'You have beautiful hair, soft and silky and so thick!' He wound a handful round his fingers and for a moment her eyes were drawn to his. She felt her whole body pulsing with a vibrant emotion, and with a jerky movement she sat up, wincing as his fingers pulled at her hair before releasing her. 'Will you take me home?' she asked quietly. Manuel sat up too, putting his arms round his drawn-up knees, and staring broodingly out across the wide expanse of ocean ahead of them. ' "Like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes he stared at the Pacific - and all his women gazed at each other with a wild surmise—"' he glanced sardonically at her, and she felt her cheeks burning. 'I believe the actual quotation is "all his men",' said Julie stiffly. Manuel's eyes darkened. 'I would have thought the way I said it was more in keeping with your opinion of me!' 'You haven't answered my question,' replied Julie, trying to retain her composure. 'I want to go home!' He uttered an expletive. 'You are a menace, do you know that?' he muttered softly, in a voice so incensed that she turned to look at him. 'I'm sorry,' she said politely, and inadequately. Manuel rose to his feet, and looked down on her as he slung on his shirt over his lean shoulders add buttoned it, shrugging.

'I have known dozens of women in my time,' he muttered, 'and they are all alike in that they are greedy and selfish. You must be the same!' Julie stood up too, angry herself now, and before he could prevent it, she slapped his face. 'If I could get back home without your assistance I would!' she stormed at him, aware of the red marks appearing on his cheek where her fingers had stung. 'Believe me,' he replied icily, 'I have no desire to take you.' 'Then don't!' Without a backward glance, Julie climbed the bank of the dunes to the shingle on the top whore the Cadillac was parked. She knew how to drive. She had once been learning back home in England, but had never attempted to take a test. But she had watched Manuel driving this car and she knew it was automatic and would present no obvious problems. With impulsive decision, she slid into the car and pressed the starter. The engine roared to life and putting it into forward gear she pressed down heavily on the pedal. As she did so, she saw Manuel leaping up the bank. He had realized her intention almost as soon as she had realized it herself, but he was just a moment too late. The Cadillac almost sprang forward, and she was a hundred yards down the road before she realized it. She glanced in the mirror and saw Manuel standing watching her with a kind of grim determination on his face, and she shivered. Why was it she always made him so furious in this way? Why did he think he could treat her like some cheap hussy? Making another decision, she drove straight to San Francisco, and the hospital. She parked the Cadillac in its earlier position and then she

quickly disappeared before anyone recognized her. A touring cab took her back to Ben's house and she breathed a sigh of relief as she paid him off.

CHAPTER TEN Two days later Julie went to the hospital again. When she first arrived home after her encounter with Manuel she swore to herself that she would never go back there again, but two days later when Ben took Samantha and the baby to the house of a colleague for the day Julie was left without any plans, and a whole day in which to amuse herself. So she went, prepared to explain the whole story to Felipe if it should be necessary. She loathed intrigue, and it was not in her nature to be deceitful. But as it happened Felipe was operating when she arrived at the hospital and she was able to work all morning without incident. She wondered though whether Manuel had relayed their contretemps to his brother, and how he had explained that he knew her, Julie. Felipe appeared after lunch, when Julie was having her lunch with Sister Moran in her office He looked a little tired as though he had been working too hard, and Julie felt compassionately concerned for him. 'Sit down,' she said, standing up as she had finished her meal. 'I ought to be getting back.' 'No, don't go.' Felipe's eyes sought hers. Sister Moran looked from one to the ether of than. 'Well, I'm going, anyway,' she said, smiling. 'Are you having lunch, Doctor?' 'Not just now,' replied Felipe, smiling at the woman, and she nodded and left the room. Felipe looked at Julie, and then sighed and sat down. 'Well?'he said.

Julie flushed. 'Well what?' 'Did you have a good time with Manuel?' 'Don't you know?' 'No. Manuel doesn't regale me with his exploits. I'd be interested to know how the Cadillac found its way back to the car-park, though. It's still there.' 'Oh, is it?' Julie tried to look unconcerned. 'Yes. But I can see you aren't keen to tell me, so I won't force you.' He sighed again. 'How on earth did you get to know Manuel?' Julie explained a few of the details. 'I see. And of course Manuel likes beautiful women around him.' Felipe sounded a trifle sardonic. 'I'm not beautiful,' protested Julie, her cheeks burning. 'It was nothing. Just a couple of dates, that's all.' 'Is it? And yet he was so goddamned mad when he came here and found you. I wonder why? He doesn't usually give a damn what happens after ...' His voice trailed away. 'I ought to have known. You're not a girl like that. Anyway, forget it. Let's start from here, right?' 'All right.' Julie was relieved. 'Manuel did tell me something, though,' went on Felipe. 'He said yesterday that you were staying with Benedict Barlow and his wife is that right?' Julie stared at him. 'How did he find that out?'

'Manuel finds out anything he wants to know,' remarked Felipe dryly. 'I imagine he asked Ben, and knowing Ben as I've come to I should think he would be unable to evade the issue. Anyway, Manuel is an adept at drawing people.' He laughed. 'Metaphorically speaking, of course!' I see. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner. I didn't want Manuel to know I was here. I should hate him to think I was following him.' Felipe seemed to understand this. At any rate he did not continue questioning her, and she was relieved. She went home later in the afternoon to find Samantha and Ben had not yet returned. It was a wonderful evening, the sun a glory of red and gold in their wide windows. The sun looked like molten liquid on the horizon while its brilliance shaded to pinks and blues overhead. Mrs. Sparks had left after breakfast so Julie had to prepare her own meal. She bathed first, and changed into a slim-fitting sheath of a golden-coloured Crimplene, with a scooped-out neckline and threequarter-length sleeves. Then she merely toasted herself a snack under the grill, not feeling any desire for a heavier meal. It was while she was drinking coffee on the patio that she heard the car draw up to the front of the house. Expecting it to be Samantha and Ben, Julie walked through to the hall. Through the fluted glass panelling of the door, she could see the car was a light- coloured Cadillac; obviously not Ben's. Her heart thumped. Was it Manuel? Was that why he had been asking about her whereabouts? Because he had some idea of finding her, and talking to her. And what better time than when she was alone? He would know that Ben was visiting the Merediths today. Ben had been out at Cyprus Lake the previous day, and knowing Ben he would not have kept it to himself.

She pondered whether she should pretend to be out, but then scrapped the idea. Far better to see him here without creating a scene in public. But when she opened the door she saw it was net Manuel, but Felipe. Felipe, looking worn and tired, as though he was incredibly weary, which was not at all like him. Felipe loved his work, and seemed tireless in pursuit of the health of his patients. Julie invited him in, and said: 'Heavens, Felipe, what's wrong?' Felipe followed her into the wide lounge and at her request flung himself into a low armchair. He unfastened his collar and ran a weary hand through his hair. Then he looked at her. 'Did you know that Teresa was having her operation today?' 'No!' Julie felt the first twinges of anxiety touch her heart. 'You never mentioned it.' She frowned. 'And as I haven't been to the hospital for the last couple of days X seem to have lost touch. I saw Teresa this morning, but she didn't say anything.' 'No,' said Felipe heavily, 'she wouldn't. Although she was a brave little thing in some ways, the thought of the actual surgery involved scared her, I think.' Julie pressed a hand to her throat. 'You're talking in the past tense,' she ejaculated, her eyes wide and concerned. 'What has happened? What's wrong?' 'Simply, Teresa is no longer at the hospital. Her father came this afternoon and took her away.' 'Took her away?' echoed Julie incredulously. 'Why?' 'God knows! She had already been prepared for the operation, and was in no fit state to be moved from anywhere. I wanted to call the

police, but I was afraid the publicity which was bound to evolve would hurt the child tremendously.' 'But how could he do such a thing?' 'I have my suspicions.' Felipe shook his head, and feeling in his pocket pulled out some cigarettes and lit one absently. 'You see, all along the identity of Teresa's benefactor had been a bone of contention between us. The child's father, while not caring a jot for his daughter, knew that if he could find out this man's identity, he would be able to make enormous sums of money from the press by offering the details of the situation to them. At least, that's what's in the back of his mind.' 'How awful! And do you think he's found this out now?' 'No, I shouldn't think so. But once the operation is over, all the human interest in Teresa's suffering would fall apart, particularly if she recovered completely and there was no chance of any sympathy-begging photographs appearing in the papers.' 'I think that's terrible,' exclaimed Julie, feeling sick. 'And ... and the man ... Teresa's benefactor ... it's Manuel, isn't it?' 'Yes, that's right,' said Felipe, shrugging, 'and Manuel is not a man to welcome that kind of publicity, whatever you may personally think of him.' 'I know.' Julie had no doubts on that score. 'So? What happens now?' 'Well, there are various things that could happen. Teresa's father might make the story public anyway, twisting, everything to his own ends, and alternatively he could turn the other way. He has no fatherly feelings towards Teresa. He doesn't care whether she gets better or not. He could make some sort of trouble by denying his consent to the

operation, and his own rescue of his daughter from our clutches, something like that.' 'But that's ridiculous! Who would believe that? I mean, there's nothing to support it, and besides, you were going to cure Teresa.' 'My dear Julie, you're a sweet, naive child, but you have absolutely no idea of the devious methods some pressmen use to get a good story. Anyway, I shall have to think about it, and go and see Teresa's father myself, and try and sort out this mess.' Julie felt helpless to assist. She fumed when she thought of Teresa in the clutches of someone who cared so little for her that he would deprive her of her one chance of being a normal healthy little girl. Felipe studied her thoughtfully for a moment. 'Tell me about you and Manuel, Julie,' he said, surprisingly. Julie's eyes were astonished. 'I ... I've told you,' she stammered. There's nothing more to tell.' 'Yes, there is.' Julie shook her head. 'Don't try unravelling my problems,' she answered lightly. 'You have enough of your own.' Felipe drew on his cigarette. 'Okay, where are Ben and his wife?' 'At some professor's house. Meredith, I believe they said.' 'Oh, yes, I know him,' Felipe nodded, and for a while there was silence in the room as darkness fell, enveloping them in its warm stillness. A swish of tyres on the drive outside assaulted their relaxed senses. 'Samantha and Ben,' said Julie.

'Do you mind? That I'm here, I mean.' 'Of course not. You know Ben already, and you'll like Sam. She's great fun.' Julie walked to the door to open it, Switching on the lights as she went, dispelling the intimacy of a few moments ago. The tall figure on the threshold banished the remains of her tranquillity. 'Manuel!' she gasped disbelievingly. Felipe sprang to his feet, but not soon enough, for Manuel walked straight past Julie into the lounge, his eyes taking in in .one sweeping glance the scene he had just interrupted. The glasses on the side table, the cigarette ends smouldering in the tray, and the absence of lights he had witnessed on his way up the drive; lights which had just been switched on. Julie closed the door and followed him. She put her hands behind her back so that he could not see them trembling, and said: 'To what do we owe the honour of this visit?' in a little cold voice. Manuel ignored her, his expression hard and cold as he stared at his brother. 'What the hell are you doing here, Felipe?' he muttered savagely. 'Surely you can't be discussing work with all the lights out?' Felipe half-smiled, but Julie was furious. 'How dare you ask what we were doing?' she exclaimed. 'Felipe is welcome here. You are not!'

Again Manuel ignored her. 'I want to see Julie alone,' he said to his brother, his voice, low and commanding, brooking no argument. 'Would you mind?' Heavy sarcasm now. Felipe rose to his feet. 'I have no intention of leaving here while you are in this mood,' he replied smoothly. 'However, I will relieve you of my presence for a few moments. I'm hot and sticky and I'd like to wash up if Julie doesn't mind.' Julie looked at him desperately. "That's not necessary, Felipe,' she said awkwardly. 'Anything Manuel has to say to me can be said here and now.' Felipe shook his head. 'Relax, honey. I'm only in the bathroom. Now, if you'll show me where it is--' Julie directed him and then returned reluctantly to the lounge. Manuel was standing on the patio, staring out over the ocean. The surging waters of the Pacific were moon-stroked now, wide and untamed. 'Well,' she said briefly, 'what is it?' 'You know perfectly well why I am here,' he accused her angrily. 'I came this morning, but no one was at home. I only found out where you lived yesterday.' 'So I gather.' Julie sounded more assured than she felt. Inside she was in a turmoil. Manuel lit a cigarette, and stared at her intently. 'Do you realize you might have killed yourself in that car?' 'I can drive.'

'Not a car with mine's capabilities,' he replied impatiently. 'God, when I saw you jerk off down the road, I hardly dared consider the consequences.' 'Well, as you can see, everything turned out beautifully. I didn't even scratch it, did I?' 'I don't give a damn whether you did or not,' he ground out. 'How did you get back?' 'I hitched a ride. Felipe told me where the car ended up.' He drew on his cigarette deeply. 'I did not tell him the whole story, but I expect you found it amusing to do so.' 'I did not!' Julie was indignant. 'Anyway, I suppose I should apologize for acting the way I did. Ii was very childish.' 'You invariably are,' he said cuttingly. 'Well! You treat me like a ... a. .. .' She halted, unable to say the words. 'Leave it. I know exactly how I treat you,' he muttered. 'Doesn't it disturb you to know how objectionable you are?' she asked, stung by his tone. 'Not often.' Julie turned away. Even like this the attraction between them was uppermost in her mind, and she thrust it away angrily. Why should this man have such a hold over her? A man, moreover, who was only amusing himself with her, and using her to possibly arouse Dolores Arriviera's jealousy.

Then he astounded her. 'Come to Cyprus Lake.' The complete unexpectedness of the request caused Julie to stare at him in amazement. She stiffened her shoulders. 'No, thank you.' He shrugged. 'Don't you find the prospect interesting?' 'Of course I do,' replied Julie honestly. 'Ben's talked a lot about the place. But that's hardly relevant, is it?' 'Why? Are you scared to come? Look, I'm having a party in a few days' time; come then. I'll said Ben and Samantha an invitation. You could come with them, and Felipe, of course.' 'I think not.' Julie turned away from him. She felt him move and felt the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck.' His hard fingers gripped her shoulders, drawing her back against him, and she felt the muscular strength of his body against hers. His voice was harsh as he muttered: 'God help me, Julie, why do I want you?' Julie could hardly resist the compelling magnetism of his voice, but when he twisted her round to face him and bent his head she moved jerkily out of his arms when he was momentarily off guard. 'Don't touch me,' she said, in a tortured voice. Manuel shook his head. 'At times I could kill you!' he said vehemently. 'Well, why did you come here?' she asked, shivering. 'You know you and I have nothing more to say to one another. I don't intend to have an affair with you no matter who you are! I suppose you think I should be flattered by your attentions ... well, I'm not!'

'Shut up!' he said violently. 'I won't shut up,' said Julie, shaking a little, but Felipe came back at that moment, and she was able to move away from Manuel and light herself a cigarette. 'So,' said Manuel. 'And perhaps, my fine brother, you can tell me now why you are here.' Felipe shrugged. 'I should have told you anyway, Manuel. Teresa's father has taken her away from the hospital. This afternoon ... when she was in no fit state to be moved. She had been prepared for surgery ...' Manuel uttered an angry expletive in Spanish, and smote the palm of one hand with his fist. 'Why? Why?' Felipe explained the reasons as he saw them, and Manuel paced about angrily, smoking a cheroot, and frowning deeply. It gave Julie time to gather her scat-tered senses. She was barely conscious of the conversation which ensued between the brothers, so disturbed did she feel, and it was with relief that she heard Manuel say he was leaving. Felipe saw him to die door, and then he said he should go too. 'Must you?' asked Julie regretfully. 'Sam and Ben may not be back for ages.' 'There is work to be done,' replied Felipe kindly. 'And I must see whether anything can be done about die child. Manuel is in a mood to take affairs into his own hands, and should he do so someone else should be there to help him. He is intensely concerned in Teresa's affairs, and wishes to see her walking normally as soon as possible.' 'Don't we all?' echoed Julie fervently. Then she hesitated: 'Felipe!'

He looked at her. 'Yes?' 'Do you think Manuel loves Dolores Arriviera?' Felipe fastened his coat absently. 'Manuel has never loved any woman,' he said slowly. 'But he does... well, take her around.' 'Yes, that is so. But you must understand, Julie, Dolores can share his work with him, and this is most important. She is an artiste too, and their interests intermingle at this level. Besides, Dolores loves Manuel, I think, and this is important, also. She is a fiery creature, untamable and untamed, but her relationship with Manuel is of long standing and although she tends to regard him like the tigress protects her cub, there is no understanding between them, if that is what you mean.' Julie swallowed hard. That's what I mean.' 'Why do you ask?' Julie shook her head. 'I don't know.' 'You do realize that to love Manuel yourself would be the height of foolhardiness?' Julie swallowed again. 'Yes. Yes, I understand that. I..; 1 don't love Manuel, Felipe. We ... we have nothing in common. If anything, I despise him for his attitude towards my sex, but as a man, and in what he's doing for the new hospital and for Teresa, I can't help but admire him.' Felipe nodded. 'Manuel is a generous man in many ways. And there is one woman he adores, Pilar. But as far as I know she is and always has been the only woman in his life.'

'Thank you.' Julie managed a smile. 'You must think I'm terribly curious.' 'No. Manuel has always aroused women's interest. But I don't want you to be hurt, Julie.' 'I won't be,' said Julie lightly, but as she closed the door after Felipe had gone she leaned against it for a moment wearily. No, she thought dully, she would not be hurt now, that was all in the past!

CHAPTER ELEVEN JULIE had no chance to refuse the invitation to Cyprus Lake. Felipe wanted her to go, and unless she was to arouse his suspicions about her feelings for Manuel she must go. Besides, Samantha too was very keen, and urged Julie to go to keep her company. Mrs. Sparks could stay with Tony for one evening, and it would be their first real occasion since their arrival in the United States. So Julie agreed, and spent an afternoon with Samantha in San Francisco searching for a suitable dress for Samantha to wear. Julie had said she could not afford to buy a dress just for the party, but when the sales assistant in the shop where Samantha was being fitted in a gold lame sheath brought out an orange chiffon gown with a low neckline, long sleeves and a swirling rage of pleats for a skirt, Julie succumbed, and agreed to try it on. It swirled about her like a sheet of orange flame, and Samantha stared at her, entranced. 'Oh, Julie,' she exclaimed, 'you must have it! If you never buy another thing, do have it.' So Samantha had the gold lame and Julie bought the flame-coloured chiffon, inwardly despising herself for wondering what Manuel would think of her wearing such a dress. The drive to Cyprus Lake took a little over an hour, so the girls travelled in slacks and sweaters and changed there. Felipe took them in his car, and Julie and Samantha, sitting in the back, had plenty of time to admire the view. The wild, rugged magnificence of the scenery was breathtaking, and Julie spent the whole journey on the edge of her seat, taking an intense interest in everything Felipe said.

Cyprus Lake stood in several acres of private land on the exclusive Monterey peninsula. Tonight it was a blaze of floodlighting, the lake gleaming metallically in the pale lights. The through lounge of the house had been cleared of all unnecessary furniture, and buffet tables spilled out on to the terrace and the paved court < beyond which led down to the lake. Felipe brought the car to a halt behind several others, and took the girls in through a side entrance and up a wide, shallow staircase to a huge landing above. Here he opened a door revealing a bedroom and bathroom beyond. Take your time,' he said easily. 'We're quite early. See you downstairs again.' Thank you, Felipe,' said Julie, smiling, and following Samantha into the softly carpeted room. Their suitcases emptied, they hastily washed and changed and applied make-up. 'Isn't this nice?' whispered Samantha, glancing round her appreciatively. 'It's much better to know someone, isn't it? I mean, Felipe obviously knows his way around the house. Gosh, look at that bed! Doesn't it look dreamy?' The bed was a massive four-poster, fitting in exactly with the bow-fronted dressing table and huge wardrobe. The carpet was a deep red in colour, and heavy amber-coloured drapes hung at the windows. Julie nodded, and then said briskly: 'Are you ready? Shall we go?'

Downstairs Ben and Felipe were waiting for them, and with them was their host, Manuel Cortez. Julie had never seen him in a dinner jacket before, and as it was white it enhanced his dark colouring. His eyes appraised her as she descended the stairs and she felt inestimably glad that she had decided to buy the new dress. That it suited her there was no doubt, and Manuel's eyes were dark and enigmatic as they rested on her. He spoke charmingly to Samantha when she was introduced, immediately winning her respect, and then he said to Felipe: 'Take Julie and her friends out to the terrace. I must greet all my guests, but I'll try and join you later.' While Samantha and Ben danced to the music of the record-player, and white-coated attendants flitted about with trays of glasses filled with champagne cocktails, Felipe took Julie to introduce her to the other members of his family. She forgot most of their names at once, but they were very pleasant to her and she almost forgot about Pilar Cortez until she insinuated herself between Julie and Felipe and said: 'Hello, Uncle Felipe! Do you like my dress?' She was wearing white, a pure white shift of lame, whose short skirt made Julie's look old-fashioned. Her hair was in a coronet on top of her head, and she looked incredibly beautiful and unbelievably older than she actually was. She gave Julie a strange glance, and said: 'I know you, don't I? You're Julie Kennedy. You came to the apartment in London to see my fatherJulie turned scarlet. Pilar's clear voice was loud enough for all to hear, and Pilar knew it too. She was deliberately being rude by speaking of meetings which sounded clandestine in intent.

'Pilar,' said Felipe quietly, 'why don't you go and find Tina and her husband? They are more your age group. You leave Julie to me, eh?' His tone was gentle but insistent, and Pilar gave Julie an insolent look and stalked away. Julie shifted uncomfortably, and Felipe said: 'Relax, Julie. I know Pilar of old. But I would say that what she said explains something to me.' 'What?' "Your relationship with Manuel; it's him, isn't it? It's Manuel you are running away from.' Julie turned away, gripping the stem of her wine glass so tightly she thought it would break. 'Felipe,' she said desperately, 'please!' 'And Manuel doesn't marry his women, does he?' said Felipe candidly, not intentionally cruel, but rather insisting on the truth. 'I have not been one of Manuel's women,' said Julie tightly. 'Ah, I see,' Felipe nodded. 'Then that is why Pilar seems so afraid of you.' 'Afraid of me? Don't be so ridiculous!' 'But yes, Julie. Whenever Pilar is rude it is because she is afraid. You forget, she has not always lived with Manuel, and she remembers the hell she suffered with her mother. She is jealous, and possessive of her father. But she knows that so long as Manuel is able to have any woman he wants he will not marry them.'

Julie recalled then Pilar's indifference when she spoke of Dolores Arriviera. 'And with you, maybe she thinks it is different,' went on Felipe. 'But, Julie, don't let yourself be deceived. I love my brother dearly, but I am not unaware of his faults.' 'Nor am I,' said Julie, swallowing her cocktail. 'May I have another drink, please?' Nodding, Felipe took her glass and excusing himself for a moment he went across to get her one. Julie looked about her nervously. She hoped Manuel would not see she was alone and choose this opportunity to come and destroy her peace of mind with his taunting comments and only partially-veiled insults. Light fingers touched her arm and she felt the unpleasant hardness of sharp nails against her skin, and she jumped violently. Her thoughts had absorbed her so much that she thought they had become reality, but when she swung round tremblingly she found Dolores Arriviera beside her, her eyes glinting maliciously. 'Well, well, senorita,' she said mockingly. 'Who were you expecting? Manuel, perhaps?' Julie shook her head, mesmerized by the burning quality of Dolores' dark glittering eyes. She felt unable to look away, like a rabbit who is hypnotized by the snake. Dolores permitted a faint smile to lift her lips. 'Poor Senorita Kennedy,' she murmured pityingly. 'So unable to hide her feelings! Do you know, senorita, that to me you are a book that is open for me to read every page? Do you know that I am aware that deep inside that puny organ which you call a heart you are burning with desire for the so-handsome Manuel - am I not right?'

Julie's cheeks burned brilliantly red. 'Let go of my arm,' she said softly, not wanting to cause a scene. 'But why? If I do so you will run away, to the so- gallant, but so-dull Senor Felipe Gortez! You will tell him nothing, but that perhaps you are a little faint, and you would like to leave? Aim I not right again?' Julie struggled to free herself, but the other woman's fingers were as tight as steel bands. 'So I will get to the point, senorita, shall I?' She ran the tip of her tongue across the scarlet slash of her lips, and glanced round casually to see that they were not overheard. 'Senorita, let me give you a little bit of advice, for your own good, you understand?' Julie felt furiously angry. If only Felipe would come back! She knew her anger was an emotional thing that threatened to overwhelm her, and she could not, would not, allow herself to be made to look such a fool! 'Please,' she begged. 'We have nothing to say to one another. I don't want to hear about you and Manuel. I know... I know!' Dolores laughed a brittle laugh. 'Ah, but you see I sure you secretly cherish a desire for a closer relationship with Manuel, despite your petty, bourgeois upbringing, and it is painfully obvious to everyone, Pilar, Manuel and myself at least, that you followed him here to California in the faint hope that he might conceivably change his mind about you. He told me he had finished with you finally in London, yet you persist in pursuing him here! My dear senorita, have you no pride?' Julie's face was white now, and her eyes were wide and brilliant with unshed tears. 'He ... he ... told you that?'

'But of course, cara, he tells me everything. But everything!' At last Julie was able to break away, and she pressed a hand to her throat to quell the rising urge she had to be sick. Oh, God, she thought wildly, how could I ever have imagined he was a decent, honourable man? When Felipe found her she was composed again, unwilling to confirm Dolores Arriviera's accusations by begging him to take her home and away from this place. Instead, she accepted her drink and tried to act naturally. Felipe seemed pleased about something, a smile playing round his lips. 'Why have you been so long?' asked Julie. 'Where have you been?' Felipe grinned broadly. 'I have been talking to Manuel, actually,' he answered, not noticing the sudden tightening of Julie's features in his own excitement. 'I have not seen him for two days, and he had some news for me. Teresa is returning to hospital tomorrow!' Julie's own problems were momentarily forgotten. 'Oh, how wonderful!' 'Yes, it is, isn't it?' 'But how ... I mean ... has her father made the story public?' 'No, nothing like that,' Felipe chuckled. 'He was merely given a taste of his own medicine for a change.' 'In what way?' 'It's quite simple really. Manuel handled it. He hired a private investigator to dig up a few facts about Giulio Renaldi - that's Teresa's

father's name, by the way. It was something I would never have thought of doing, but as usual for Manuel it paid dividends. The investigator discovered certain facts which indicated a relationship between Renaldi and a particular unsavoury character who has recently been deported. Naturally, when faced with these facts Renaldi folded up. He has no desire to be deported also. He likes it here too well. So with a little moral blackmail the agreement was reached.' Julie ran a tongue over her dry lips. 'Have you seen Teresa since she was taken away?' 'No, but Manuel has, and he says she has fortunately suffered no ill effects, so in a few days the operation will be complete, and Teresa will have her chance to walk normally, which is all we ever wanted.' Julie managed to speak casually about the affair, but she could hot forget the Spanish woman's words or their implication. It seemed there were two Manuels; the kind, considerate benefactor who would go to any lengths to help Teresa Renaldi, and the cruel, sometimes hateful man who had managed somehow to get under her skin and in so doing ruin her life. It was much later in the evening before she saw Manuel again. They had had a buffet supper, although Julie had barely touched a thing, and was wishing it could be over so that she could go home and try to forget everything that had happened. After supper was over Manuel was prevailed upon to sing, and someone found his guitar and a couple of guests who were willing to accompany him on flute and drums. At first he did not sing, but played some plaintive Flamenco music which sent Julie's senses reeling. Then he sang, and the words, sometimes corny and hackneyed,assumed a new meaning under his expert handling.

Julie's eyes were drawn irresistibly to his dark lace as he sang, and she wondered why his expression was so brooding. ' Stay with me, For I hunger for your touch, For I'm loving you so much There is nothing I won't give If you'll only say you'll live with me. Stay with me, My beloved, only you Make my every dream come true. If we part I'll never win, Give me love and say again You will always stay with me.' Manuel finished the song and looked up, his eyes meeting Julie's suddenly across the room, above the heads of his other guests, who were applauding wildly. Julie turned away. She could not bear it. She stumbled down the flower-strewn path towards the lake, and finding a twisting footway followed it automatically. Bushes, scented with the wild lilac so delicious at this time of year, brushed at her clothes, while the mossy pathway underfoot was hardly suitable for her light sandals. The, .path petered out in a summerhouse, on the shores of the lake, its minaret-like dome glinting silver in the moonlight. She stepped up the two steps and looked inside. In the gloom she could make out couches surrounding it fixed against the walls, while a central tow table held a pile of music manuscript as though Manuel used it for his composing. Julie sat down, and lifted several pages and flicked

through them. Then she replaced them and lay back wearily. It was very quiet, and very peaceful, and she relaxed. She felt sleepy with the wine she had consumed, and she wasn't sure how long she had been there when footsteps sounded outside and a figure appeared in the doorway - a girl's figure wearing a pure white dress. 'So you are here! said Pilar. 'We been looking for you.' 'Have you? Why?' Julie sat up straight. She could not conceive of any reason why Pilar should want to see her. 'I want to talk to you,' said Pilar, and as Julie rose to her feet: 'Sit down!' Julie subsided obediently, more surprised than anything. 'Well?' she said. 'What is it?' Pilar hesitated. 'You are in love with my father, aren't you? Oh, don't bother to deny it, I recognize the signs now. I should do. I've had plenty of experience.' Julie swallowed hard. 'My affairs are nothing to do with you.' 'They are when they involve my father,' retorted Pilar angrily. 'Following him here from England!' Julie stood up. 'Oh, please,' she began brokenly, unable to take any more. 'It's not like that at all. Your father and I are through.' Pilar looked scornfully at her. 'Stop trying to stall me! I can see through you.' 'I must be patently transparent,' cried Julie wearily.

'Look, what can I say to convince you? ^m not at least ... there's nothing between your father and me.' 'Don't give me that! Why is Dolores so moody, then? And why has my father stopped caring for her?' 'You're talking nonsense! Your father and Dolores are well matched. I am sure it won't be long before they realize it and make their contract binding.' 'I don't believe you!' Pilar's face was strained as though things weren't going at all as she wanted them. 'You're making it up! My father would never marry Dolores Arriviera!' Julie tried to get past Pilar, the girl barred her way. 'Tell me more,' she said wildly. 'How do you know all this?' 'I don't know anything any more.' Julie felt nauseated by the whole affair. 'Now let me by. I'm tired of you, and of Dolores, and most of all of your father!' She thrust Pilar aside with a superhuman effort and fled back along the path which led to the terrace. A sob was rising in her throat; she had never been subject to such mental agony before and all she could think of' was escape. She ran full tilt into the man coming along the path, and he caught her up in his arms and held her close to him for a moment, while she took a shaking breath. Then she wrenched herself away and looked up at him, but she had known who it was before she saw his face. 'Let me go! Let me go!' she cried, half-sobbing. 'I never want to see you again as long as I live!' She thrust past him, but he caught her arm roughly, hurting her.

'What in hell's name has been happening?' he exclaimed exasperatedly. 'Julie, for goodness' sake explain yourself!' 'Explain myself?' Julie glared at him, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. 'Go and ask that precious daughter of yours! She knows all the answers. She's been through it all before. I haven't!' 'Pilar?' His eyes narrowed. 'What has she been saying?' 'Quite a lot.' Julie managed to drag herself away from him. 'Between Pilar and Dolores I've just about had all I can take. Now let me go!' She ran on, uncaring of what he thought of her now. Her only desire was to escape, and her home in England had never seemed more dear. Why had she ever left? She should have known better than to come to California; deep inside her she had always known that she would meet Manuel again. There was no escaping the pain in her heart and no disguising of her feelings to herself. She emerged from the bushes and saw the brightly lit patio ahead of her. She couldn't face all those people again. Not now! She couldn't go and make polite conversation, dance with Felipe and act as though everything was normal when she felt torn apart inside. She skirted the terrace, and came out on the sweep of drive in front of the house where the numerous cars were parked. It would have been easy enough to take a car; most of them had keys left dangling carelessly in their ignitions. Obviously no one expected any harm to come to them here. Julie felt undecided. What could she do really, except go back? If only there was a call-box so that she could ring for a cab without drawing attention to herself. If she could get back to the house and ring Benand Samantha from there she would feel safe again: It was only eleven-thirty; the party wouldn't break up for ages yet, and she

would not be missed until it was time to leave. She looked about her. There might conceivably be a phone box down the road. After all, the telephone was a very important instrument in America. The sound of the sea was in her ears as she left the drive and turned on to the coast road. But she paid no heed to it. The opulence of her surroundings no longer appeased the ache in her heart when she thought of Manuel. She refused to think about Pilar Cortez, and her insinuations, her sneering voice still rang in her ears. But it made no difference now. As soon as it could be arranged, she was going back to England. She would not leave Samantha without anyone to care for Tony, but as soon as a substitute could be arranged she must go. Even the thought of Felipe and her work at the hospital could not assuage the pain she was feeling. She was weak and foolish, but sometimes even physical exhaustion was not enough. The road ahead of her was dark and shadowed as the moon slid behind a bank of clouds. To Julie, nervous and shaken after her encounter with Pilar, it was almost eerie, and the sounds from the house were growing fainter. She had not gone far when the searchlight glare of headlights appeared behind her, moving swiftly, and she scrambled hastily off the road and into a belt of trees. So intent was she on avoiding being seen by some predatory motorist that her swift jack-knife into the trees startled an animal which had been standing quietly ig the gloom, its wary eyes alert for danger. Julie caught a glimpse of eyes turned red by the headlights, a soft muzzle trembling with fear, and branching antlers, like devil's horns. She screamed, unable to control her already tortured nerves. The animal bolted, terrified by the abrupt intrusion into its solitude. It ran wildly across the highway, straight into the path of the oncoming car.

There was a squeal of brakes, a scorching hiss of tyres on the road's surface, and a skidding scraping of metal as the car spun off its course and swerved unavoidably for the belt of trees. Julie watched; her hands pressed to her cheeks, as the car crashed sickeningly into the solid base of a redwood tree, and came lurchingly to a halt. For a moment she stood as though petrified, then she ran forward and tried unsuccessfully to wrench open the car door. It would not budge, and she heard herself sobbing with desperation as she tugged, trying to see whether the man inside was alive or dead. And when she gave it up and turned round to look for help, she recognized the car, and her heart stopped beating for a breathtaking moment. It was Manuel's car; and it was Manuel who was lying slumped over the wheel, blood trickling down his cheek. Hysteria rose in her throat, but she fought it back with strength she had not known she possessed. It was no use panicking; and the longer she delayed, the less chance he might have to survive. But equally, it was no use staying here. There was nothing she could do alone. She must go for help; go for help and leave Manuel lying in his own blood. Oh, God, she thought desperately, please don't let him die, please don't let him die! I love him! I love him! Gone were all her inhibitions; as she ran down the road towards Manuel's house, she knew that if he got well, she would not be leaving for England. It didn't matter what sort of man he was. She loved him.

CHAPTER TWELVE JULIE lived through the next two weeks in an agony of anxiety. Manuel was rushed to the Stafford Infirmary in San Francisco, with a fractured skull and multiple cuts and bruises. His family were told, it was relayed to JuHe through Felipe that he was lucky to have gotten o£| so lightly, but Julie could not forgive herself for what she considered to be her fault. If she had not left the party so suddenly; if Manuel had not decided to go look for her; if she had not screamed when she saw the harmless deer and earned it to run so wildly into the path of Manuel's car! Everything seemed to have 'if before it, and for once she could not confide her emotions to Samantha, although Samantha knew full well what her friend was experiencing. She purposely insisted on looking after Tony herself so that Julie was free to come and go as she pleased, and Julie spent most of her time at the Seamen's Mission Hospital with Felipe. At the end of two weeks Samantha and Ben had only about ten days of their visit left. It was bittersweet to feel the warmer days approaching and to know that when the roses were in full bloom they would be back in England. Net that Julie would have minded where she was if she was with Manuel, she thought wearily, unable to deceive herself any longer about her feelings. Samantha and Ben would go home and take up their lives where they had left off, but she - what would she do? Go back to Fordhams? Resume her friendship with Paul? So she listened to Samantha talking about how nice it would be to read an English paper again, and drink real English tea, while her own life seemed to be slowing down. The only person who seemed to be

aware of the true state of affairs was Felipe, and he was kind and undemanding, and talked about Manuel whenever she wished it. Being a doctor himself he could ascertain exactly Manuel's condition, and he went to see him every day. Julie asked whether Manuel was allowed visitors and Felipe told her that apart from his family only Dolores had been to see him. At this, Julie's heart contracted. Of course Dolores would go and see him; after all, she seemed to have resumed her place in Manuel's affections, although Julie doubted whether that had ever been in any doubt. 'Manuel asked about you,' Felipe said casually one day. 'He seemed to think he might have hit you. You were standing in that belt of trees, weren't you?' 'You know I was. It was all my fault.' Felipe sighed. 'Julie, Manuel swerved to avoid the deer. You had nothing to do with it.' 'I did, I did!' Julie hunched her shoulders. 'I frightened the animal in the first place. Oh, help me, Felipe, what am I going to do?' That was just one of several times that Julie broke down in Felipe's presence, and she felt sure he must be absolutely sick of her and her emotionalism. But what played on Julie's mind the most was the thought of her imminent departure for England, and the terrifying prospect of maybe not seeing Manuel before she left. Samantha had showed an amazing lack of curiosity about Julie's abrupt departure from the party, and Julie could only assume that Felipe, in his understanding way, had said something to her. Felipe also told Julie that Pilar felt guilty about Manuel's accident.

'She blames herself, as you do,' he said. 'Perhaps you two ought to get together again.' Julie shivered. 'I don't think that's at all a good idea.' 'Don't you? A pity. I think you might be good for one another.' At die end of that week, when Manuel had been in hospital for eighteen days, Felipe invited Julie to his apartment for dinner on the Saturday evening. 'There will just be the two of us,' he said, 'but it will make a break for both of us, and I don't think dining out in restaurants is quite what you want at the moment, is it?' Julie agreed, and quite looked forward to the prospect of an evening without need for assumed gaiety. She dressed in a slim-fitting shift of turquoise linen, and left her hair loose. Felipe's apartment was big and roomy, but not so elegant as Manuel's. It seemed to be filled with furniture, and he confessed to being a confirmed collector of old things, but it was. the person who was sitting on Felipe's settee who drew Julie's eyes, and she turned back to Felipe with a muffled protestation. It was Pilar Cortez, looking incredibly young and demure in a puritan-collared dress of green silk, with almost a knee-length skirt and long sleeves. 'Hello,' she said, rising as Julie came in, her eyes cool and composed. 'Uncle Felipe thought we ought to get to know one another.' Her tone was still arrogant, but the insolence had gone. Julie moved awkwardly. 'Oh, I ... Felipe, why didn't you tell me?' 'You wouldn't have come,' he said simply. 'Pilar, get Julie a drink, while I go and see what's happening in the kitchen.'

Julie compressed her lips, and said she would have a sherry when Pilar asked her. Pilar poured the drink, brought it across to her, and said: 'Do sit down. I'm not going to bite you.' Julie subsided on to a couch. Why was it these Cortez' seemed to act as though they owned the earth; all except Felipe, that is! Julie sipped her drink, accepted a cigarette from the box on a low table, looked around her with feigned interest. Pilar watched her, and then said: 'I suppose I ought to say I'm sorry.' Julie's eyes turned to her. 'It's not important.' Pilar shuffled restlessly on her seat, tracing the pattern of the moquette with a pointed red-painted nail. 'Yes, it is. My father ... that is…' She halted. 'How ... how is Man ... your father?' Julie drew on her cigarette swiftly. 'He's recovering.' Pilar was abrupt. 'He doesn't like being in hospital. He is coming home in a few days. He may need private nursing for a while, I don't' know. But in any case, there is plenty of room at Cyprus Lake, and he will have his music, which he misses very much.' 'Yes.' Pilar stood up. 'It was all my fault, you know. Uncle Felipe says you blame yourself, but it's really not necessary. If I hadn't spoken to you as I did, you would never...' 'Pilar!' Julie's voice was soft. 'You don't have to say such things to me. And it certainly was not your fault. I was stupid, I screamed, and the deer ran into the road. That's really all it was.' She half-smiled.

'Besides, if your father is recovering, you have nothing to reproach yourself with. When he is fully recovered, you will have plenty of time to make retribution, if that's what you want.' She realized anew that despite Pilar's appearance she was very immature in some ways. Thank you for saying that, but it's not enough, I'm afraid. My father will never forgive me!' 'Manuel?' Julie stared at her. 'Why?' 'Oh, he pretends he doesn't care, but he does, he does? Pilar buried her face in her hands, and Julie was astounded. What now? She rose to her feet, and put an arm round the girl tentatively. She did not quite know what to say to Pilar. She was so touchy and volatile she was half afraid she would suddenly turn on her like an injured animal sometimes turns on its rescuer. 'Care? What about, Pilar?' Julie gripped her tightly. 'It can't be anything to do with the accident. I'm sure Manuel wouldn't blame anyone for that. He's not like that! You know he's not!' 'No, not the accident,' exclaimed Pilar, turning round on Julie. 'Do you think he cares for himself? Whatever you may think about my father's character I can assure you he is not a selfish man!' 'I know.' Julie was perplexed and shook her head. 'Pilar, what is it? Is it something to do with Dolores?' Her voice faltered over the word. 'No,' said Pilar, in a choked voice, 'not Dolores. Besides, she has gone. My father sent her away the day she came to see him. She came home and packed her things and left! I couldn't understand it at first, but now I do. That's the trouble.'

Julie's stomach began to act alarmingly, and she swallowed hard. 'I adore my father,' Pilar went on, 'but I am jealous, and a fool. My life has not been neat and tidy like yours. The first seven years of my life I spent with my mother, living a kind of hand-to-mouth existence, not knowing where the next meal was coming from. All she was interested in was men! Does that shock you? You've never known that kind of life, have you, Julie? But my father has, and millions of others like us. But I was different. I got out of it. Manuel lifted me out of the mire because he loved me and wanted to atone for the years when he had not known the life we were leading. He had to leave me with Consuela, my mother, because he had no one to care for me, and the kind of life he was leading at that time didn't encourage hangers-on. He was determined to succeed, and he did, and then he came back for me. Can you wonder that I am trying to hang on to what I've got, knowing that other kind of existence.' Julie was shocked. 'Oh, Pilar,' she cried softly, 'you have nothing to fear. Your father loves you, and if he loved a hundred women, he would always have a place in his heart for his daughter.' 'Yes.' Pilar was doubtful. 'But that is not enough for him now. There is something stronger which is - driving him away from me. Hating me!' Julie stared at her. 'No!' 'Oh, yes. He will not forgive me for driving you away. I have never before interfered in my father's private affairs, you understand, but you were different, and I was afraid, as I have said. ...' Her voice trailed away. 'Do you see now?' Julie was beginning to, but she hardly dared consider the truth, of what Pilar was implying. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be true!

Felipe came back, halting in the doorway, and surveying the scene that confronted him with satisfied eyes. 'Well?' he said to Julie. 'You see, you did have things to say to one another.' Pilar moved away and sat down again. 'Uncle Felipe, what will happen, do you suppose? I mean, will it all work out?' 'Of course, Pilar my love. The trouble with you is that you always anticipate the worst, and I think Julie is a little like that, too. She is afraid to believe that she is not of as little consequence as she thinks, and you are prepared to believe that your father has only been caring for you all these years as a whim, and that should he ever find a woman, who - well, he amid love, he would turn on you as your mother did, and become indifferent to your happiness. Oh, Pilar, you ought to have more sense!' Julie shook her head. 'Felipe, you have my head spinning. Surely it's immaterial now what happened between Pilar and myself? It's been obvious from the beginning that since he was admitted to hospital, Manuel has had no strong desire to see me. If he had, he wouldn't have allowed you to fob me off with excuses about his recovering before I saw him.' Felipe smiled rather mockingly, and then shook his head. 'Julie, you couldn't be more wrong. I told Manuel you didn't want to see him as soon as he was strong enough to take the news.' 'You told him what!' Julie was flabbergasted. 'But why?' 'Because it's true,' said Pilar sulkily. 'Why else did you tell Uncle Felipe such a thing?'

'But I didn't,' denied Julie hotly. 'Felipe, you knew I wanted to see him. I asked if I could.' Felipe nodded. 'I know.' He patted her shoulder. 'Don't get so angry, my dear, I did it for you own good, and it appears my psychology paid off. You have heard what Pilar has had to say. Why do you think she said it? Because, my dear Julie, Manuel is so angry with her and blames her for you refusing to see him. He is well aware of your imminent departure for England, but he also knows that he is not a free agent, and apart from his recovery from this accident, he has contracts to fulfil and it may be some months before he can free himself to go to England to find you again, and in that time, anything could happen.' Pilar was staring at Felipe. 'You mean Julie hasn't refused to see my father after all?' 'That's correct,' Felipe laughed. 'So you see, Pilar, you have nothing to worry about. Can't you see Julie is absolutely furious with me?' Julie twisted her hands together. 'Oh, Felipe, why did you do it?' 'Because it has done my arrogant brother a power of good lying helpless in a hospital bed knowing that the girl he most desires does not desire him.' Julie felt a rising sense of excitement inside her. 'And when may I see him?' 'When you like. Tonight, if you want to.' Julie clasped her elbows with clammy hands. 'Do you mean it?' 'Of course. But we'll have dinner first, h'mm?'

'I couldn't eat a thing,' confessed Julie candidly. She looked at Pilar. 'Will you come, too?' 'No.' Pilar shook her head. 'Not tonight. I ... I think it would be as well if you saw him alone.' It was the nearest words to friendliness she could muster so suddenly, but Julie felt it would come. It had to! 'Very well,' said Felipe. 'Shall we go? Pilar can wait the few minutes until I return.' The Stafford Infirmary was big and new and modern, and a vastly different place from the Seamen's Mission Hospital. Manuel had a private room on the third floor, and Felipe, who was well-known at the hospital, took her up himself. It was a little after eight, and he told her that Manuel would have had his meal, and would probably be watching television. Leaving Julie outside, he went in alone, and she heard the murmur of their voices; In truth her heart was beating so loudly she felt she wouldn't have been able to hear them had they been speaking noisily, but presently Felipe came out, and said: 'I haven't told him you are here. I said he had a visitor, and he expects a member of his family.' 'You led him to believe that?' exclaimed Julie accusingly. 'Oh, Felipe, I'm so nervous!'Felipe pushed her forward. 'Go on. Take a cab back to the apartment later. You can tell us how he is.' He grinned, and Julie shook her head before resolutely summoning her courage and walking into the room.

It was a large, spacious, airy room, with red curtains drawn across tall windows on the far wall. The floor was carpeted in green, and it looked more like a bedroom at home than a hospital ward. But it was the man lying against the pillows on the bed, absently watching the television, who drew Julie's eyes, and when he looked and saw who it was, her heart turned completely over. 'Julie!' he exclaimed, in amazement. 'You came!' 'Hello, Manuel,' she said awkwardly, fidgeting with her gloves. 'H... how are you?' 'I'm fine. How about you?' Manuel shrugged his shoulders helplessly. He was wearing dark red silk pyjamas and the open V-neck revealed the mat of dark hairs on his chest. His hair was attractively tousled and he looked younger and more vulnerable somehow. 'Fine,' she murmured, advancing a little further into the room. There was a plaster on his forehead, and one side of his face was still very bruised, but otherwise he looked quite well. 'I ... I came to apologize,' she said quickly. 'I shouldn't have screamed like that. I was an awful fool, and I'm sorry, for all this.' She spread her hands. Manuel shook his head. 'I'm all right. Don't worry about me.' His eyes were intent. 'Julie, when are you leaving.?' 'In a week or so. I'm not exactly sure of the date.. ,.' He leaned across the bed. 'Come here. Sit down. I want to talk to you.' His eyes grew darker. 'Please, Julie, don't be afraid. I know you didn't

want to crane and see me, but please, now you're here, listen to what I have to say.' Julie moved slowly forward, and perched awkwardly on .the side of the bed. She didn't refute his words, not yet. Manuel took one of her hands and raised it to his lips, and kissed it lingeringly, then he said: 'God, Julie, when you're with me like this I can't think straight.' He tightened his grip. 'It must be all the drugs they've beat pumping into me.' Julie was biting her lips to stop herself from speaking, and she saw the agony in his eyes. It was more than she could bear, and she said brokenly: 'Oh, Manuel, you might have been killed!' He stared at her. 'You care?' 'Of course I do,' she said hotly. 'Anyone would.' 'I don't care about anyone else,' he muttered savagely. 'Julie, I know I'm crazy after the way you've acted, but... come here…' He pulled her roughly down beside him, rolling ova: so that he was looking down at her. Then he put his mouth to hers, savagely and violently, revealing more potently than ever before the emotions she aroused in him. Julie didn't struggle. She slid her arms round his neck and pulled him even closer, and he said achingly: 'Julie, I can't be gentle with you, if you act like this.' He pulled himself away and looked down at her; at her parted bare lips, and tumbled hair. 'One of us has got to be sensible,' he said thickly, 'the nurse is likely to walk in unannounced at any moment.'

'You're suddenly very conscious of appearances,' she murmured, running caressing hands down his cheeks. 'Yes,' Manuel nodded, 'I can be as proper as anyone else, if I want to be. Julie, why didn't you come and see me before?' He turned one of the palms of her hands to his mouth. 'I've lain here the last three weeks alternately hating you and loving you.' Julie's eyes widened. 'Loving me? Love was a word Manuel had never used before. 'Yes, loving you, damn you. Julie, I want to marry you - no, don't say anything yet. I never thought I'd ask another woman to marry me, not after Consuelo, but you .. . you've got under my skin, and I want you so badly it's driving me crazy. Besides, I think I'd better marry you before you are the death of me.' He smiled. 'After all, you rocket my temperature when I have the fever, and cause me to have a relapse. ...' Julie gasped, 'Manuel!' 'Yes, and then you infuriate me beyond belief in a blasted snowstorm; you leave me out at Connor Beach without the means to get home, and finally you practically kill me by startling me into crashing my car. I think you owe it to me, don't you?' His tone was tender,,, and Julie felt terrible. 'Oh, Manuel,' she whispered, 'I did want to see you before .this.' She sighed. 'I can't lie to you. Felipe kept me away. He ... he wanted you to be thwarted for once so never told me that you'd asked to see me. I thought ... I thought that Dolores and you ... well....' Manuel stared at her. 'The devil he did!' he exclaimed. 'Felipe kept you away! Wait until I lay my hands on him!' But he was laughing a little and Julie knew his words were merely relief at finding out the truth at last. Then he said: 'Dolores has gone!'

'I know. Pilar told me.' She hesitated. 'Why did you send her away?' 'Because when she came to see me I asked her what in hell's name she had been telling you. Pilar told me she had seen her talking to you, and knowing Dolores as I do I knew it couldn't be anything good.' 'And she told you!' exclaimed Julie incredulously. 'To begin with, no. But after I had made it clear that any notions she had towards our relationship becoming a more permanent thing were ludicrous, she lost her temper and told me everything.' He caressed her fingers tenderly. 'She is hot-tempered but harmless, I think. When we are married she will probably come to like, you, if indeed we meet her again.' Julie pulled him down to her. 'Kiss me, Manuel. We don't have much more time, and I love you so.' Manuel was only too willing to oblige, but he kept a tight rein on his emotions and at last pushed her gently away from him. 'I can wait,' he murmured caressingly. 'But not for long. We will be married as soon as it can be arranged. Your parents can fly over for the ceremony if they want to, but you are staying here. I'm not risking you going to London, and maybe changing your mind.' 'I shan't do that,' replied Julie dreamily. Then after combing her hair into some semblance of order again, she said: 'And Pilar. You won't be angry with her any more, will you? She's been terribly unhappy. She's so young to be involved in all this. What-ever did you say to her?' Manuel sighed. 'I was unhappy too, I guess,' muttered. 'You seemed the most important thing in my life, in all this jaded life of mine.

When I thought she had destroyed everything between us by her jealousy, I think I hated her, but I hated myself even more. Particularly as I knew what my relationship with Dolores must have seemed like. But what about you, Julie? Will you be able to accept Pilar, in spite of all this?' 'Oh, yes,' replied Julie, more confidently now. 'Things will work themselves out. Pilar needs a woman,. I think. I may be able to help her and she will certainly be able to help me.' 'How?'Manuel was curious. 'Well, she knows you so-much better than I do, and: when you are away we will be company for one another.' 'When I am away, you will be with me,' said Manuel firmly, reaching forward and taking her hand again. 'But I am considering giving up all but a few personal appearances, and concentrating on composing and writing instead. How does that appeal to you?' Julie bent her head and kissed his hand. 'So long as we are together I don't think I shall mind,' she confessed truthfully. 'But, Manuel, please tell me, why did you act as you did in London?' Manuel sighed, his eyes gentle. 'Why do you think? No animal likes to be cornered, and when they are, they lash out at the nearest thing to them. I knew what you were doing to me, but by God, I fought it!' 'And now?' He chuckled softly. 'Oh, Julie, I'm like the patient after the sedative - I can't fight any more. I want to give in, and I want you more than any kind of life I have ever envisaged.' He smiled. 'Did I tell you that I love you?'

'Tell me again,' she whispered, but the nurse came in just at that moment to attend to him. 'Later,' he promised warmly, and Julie knew that all the time that was to come was theirs alone.