Roumelia Lane - The Scented Hills Read online

  It turned out she was getting herself all knotted up for no reason. Barry opened the car door for her with a deft flick of his wrist, and swung the wheel into action as soon as she was seated. She didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved that he had barely looked at her.

  This feeling of being slightly invisible stayed with her for most of the evening. She went to places that she never dreamed she would visit. Nightclubs with high-sounding and colourful names like the Edwardian, and MacMillans and the Green Parrot. She ate food that she never knew existed and listened to music that shattered her eardrums, and Barry was always there, laughing above the din, and encouraging her to take what was being offered, yet somehow he seemed detached, she felt he wasn't with her so much as merely accompanying her.

  As the evening wore on, she began to feel with a sinking heart that there had been nothing in his asking her out after all. He had almost knocked her over this afternoon and probably regretting his bad manners, he had decided to try and make up for them. He was taking her around the sights now like a brother might politely indulge his sister. That was exactly what she felt like, a small and insignificant sister.

  When her disappointment had died down, she decided to make the best of things. Her escort was just about the most dazzling male in town in his midnight blue suit and mauve roll-collared shirt, and she had him for the rest of the evening at least. She would take the fun he offered even though it was slightly synthetic. At least it would be something to talk about on the dull days at the salon.

  Having made up her mind to enjoy herself, she was almost sorry that the time flew by so quickly. All too soon she was collecting her coat for the last time, and then the tangerine sports car was leaving the bright lights of the West End behind and weaving through the narrow roads of dimly lit suburbia.

  As it pulled into the kerb beneath the tiny window of her bedsitter, Tessa was horrified to find that her watch said one- thirty. Good heavens! Only a few hours' sleep and she would have to get up again! But it had been worth it. And Barry had given her good measure, she would say that for him. She sat wondering how she could put into words her thanks for his gesture tonight in showing her how the world really lived, when he surprised her by slowly draping an arm across the back of her seat.

  Swallowing at this unexpected move, she was only just getting used to the feel of his hand on her shoulder when he shook her further by asking in somewhat jaunty tones, 'What are we doing tomorrow?'

  Her heart fluttered like a lame bird. She cast her mind back quiveringly over the evening. Had she imagined his slightly bored detachment, his preoccupied grin? Had he really been as close to her as he was now?

  When she could find her voice she asked unsteadily, 'When tomorrow? If you mean in the evening…?'

  'Nope!' Barry looked at her with a slightly overworked smile. 'I mean in the morning and in the afternoon and in the evening.'

  'I couldn't do that!' Tessa laughed searching for some kind of teasing in the blue eyes. 'I have to be at the salon all day.’

  'No, you don't.' The arm along the back of the seat slid forward and curled around her shoulders. 'You have to be with me.'

  Tessa allowed herself a moment to bask in the foolishness before sending him a wistful twinkle. 'It's a nice thought, Barry, but some of us have to work for a living, you know,'

  she said lightly.

  The bleached gold eyebrows swung down in a frown, and then restless impatience in his tones he pulled her towards him to grin. 'Look, who wants to talk about work? We've got some living to do.' He took her face in his hand with an earnestness that startled her. 'Will you take it from me that your job's okay? It will be there waiting for you when…' He dropped his gaze and turned his grin away to shrug, 'Well, when we've hipped it up a bit.'

  Tessa couldn't believe her ears. He liked her! He really did I He was asking her to go out with him again. And in working hours too. What had she done to deserve such heavenly fortune? She waited until some of her eager excitement had spent itself and then sighed pleasurably. 'I can't think what we're going to do with ourselves for a whole day.'

  'You don't have to think.' There was something like eagerness in the way Barry gripped her shoulders again. An eagerness tinged with relief. 'Just leave everything to me.' He squeezed her. 'You enjoyed yourself tonight, didn't you?'

  'Yes, I did,' Tessa nodded vigorously, brushing aside the thousand and one disappointments. 'I really did!'

  'Okay, then.' Barry stuck his feet up and dropped his head back to slide her a half smile. 'We're a partnership!'

  A warm glow spreading inside her, Tessa draped back too. There was no rush to tear herself away now. She didn't even have to worry about getting up in the morning. After a few golden seconds had elapsed she asked conversationally, 'Don't you have to do any work, Barry?'

  'When I feel like it,' he grinned, 'and I never feel like it.'

  'Lucky you!' she smiled enviously. 'I suppose you have your grandfather to thank for that?'

  She knew all about Dion Devereux, of course, for everyone starting at the salon was given a small booklet to re5d on how the business was founded by the Frenchman, and later became world-renowned.

  'He had to leave it all to someone,' Barry shrugged uncomplainingly. 'My father was considered irresponsible and proved it by breaking his neck in a car,' he said without emotion. 'That left me.'

  After a few moments Tessa stated not unkindly, 'And you're not all that interested in what your grandfather built up?'

  'Only in the money,' he quirked unashamedly.

  'And yet…' Tessa tilted her head thoughtfully, 'the whole place runs smoother than clockwork. There must be somebody keeping an eye on things until…' she shot him a wicked twinkle, 'until you're ready to take over.'

  Barry nodded. 'Neil Stanton!' He spoke the name slowly through tight lips as though uttering it had ruined his evening. 'The old boy left him holding the reins.'

  He reached for a cigarette and lighting it blew the smoke out gustily. Tessa hadn't seen him smoke all evening, but he obviously felt he needed one now.

  'You don't like the man?' she said, watching the scowling profile. It didn't need a master mind to see that. When there was no reply she pulled her mouth down into a comforting half smile and soothed, 'I expect he's old and terrible and likes to run the firm all his own way?'

  Barry tugged morosely on his cigarette. 'He doesn't only run the firm,' he glowered. 'He runs me too. He never lets me forget for a second that he's my guardian.' .

  Tessa sat up and stared at him in genuine sympathy. 'How awful!' she gasped. At least that was something she had. Her freedom. Thank heavens there was no grouchy old man telling her what to do. She looked at Barry again and pointed out indignantly, 'You're eighteen, aren't you? That means you can please yourself anyway.'

  'Not quite,' Barry shrugged with a thin smile. 'But I'll be throwing a few bricks around when I am.'

  After a silence Tessa asked reflectively, 'I don't think I've seen this Neil Stanton man around the salon, have I?'

  'You'd have known it if you had.' Barry twisted a smile. 'He only has to put a foot inside the doorway and the whole place rattles with nervous activity.'

  'Well, I wouldn't jump about,' Tessa said staunchily, disliking the man more with every word she heard of him.

  'Beats me why everybody does,' Barry said sourly. 'He never bats an eyelid. But…' the slender shoulders hunched, 'there's something about him. You know the type.'

  'I know,' Tessa nodded sympathetically.

  She thought that was the end of that line of conversation until, after a deep draw on his cigarette, Barry tacked on bitterly, 'Not happy unless he's pulling all the strings. And he wants me to dance along with the rest.' She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard him say tightly under his breath, 'Well, I won't!'

  He scowled at the windscreen for a second as though busy with his own thoughts and then swung to her to ask eagerly, 'Look, when can I see you tomorrow?'

  Only
too happy to forget this despotic Neil Stanton person, Tessa said lightly, 'Today, you mean. It's almost two o'clock.'

  'I could carry on from here.' Barry jerked a grin and opened the door. 'But I suppose you want to get some sleep. How about ten o'clock?'

  'Fine,' Tessa smiled, though inwardly she was wondering if there was any point in rushing out at that time.

  Once out on the pavement, endless misgiving assailed her. Her happiness and excitement battling with something she wasn't quite sure of, she turned to say doubtfully, 'I still don't know whether I ought to take time off work.'

  'I've told you, it's all fixed. There's nothing to worry about.' With a flicker of the old impatience Barry was out of the car beside her. He looked hesitant and then planted a hard kiss on her cheek. 'Now get going. And be ready on the nail at ten.'

  Perhaps because she drifted away from him with a slightly uneasy smile he set his mouth behind the wheel and called, 'Look, if it will make you feel any better, give the shop a ring in the morning.'

  Tessa did. As soon as she was washed and dressed, after hardly having slept at all, she hurried downstairs to the phone in the hall. She dialled and made her enquiries with slightly trembling insides, and heard the cool tones of Mrs. Chalmers the personnel officer of the firm. 'Yes, we've been informed of your leave of absence, Miss Browning. Of course your job will be kept open until you return.'

  Tessa put the phone down with a delighted gasp. It was true! Barry had arranged everything! Maybe he didn't have much to do with the running of the firm, but his influence was terrific! She smiled dreamily and waltzed back up to her room. Playing truant with him was going to be fun. Of course there was the minor snag of no work, no money in her case, but she still had a few pounds of her savings left, and why spoil everything now by being practical?

  The car horn blared well before ten o'clock, but eagerly awaiting the sound she was downstairs in a matter of seconds. The sight of Barry whipped her breath away. He was wearing a vivid red shirt and tight-fitting cream corduroy slacks. His ankle boots were in pale soft suede and there was a silk spotted scarf knotted at his throat. Tessa, in her simple dress and coat, felt dowdy and uninteresting in contrast, but to Barry it didn't seem important what she was wearing. He waved her towards the car door he was holding open and then hopped over the top himself as though high spirits couldn't keep him down.

  Sitting next to him, his rippling waves glinting in the May sunshine, the long-lashed eyes hypnotising her with their turquoisy blueness, Tessa wondered why it was all happening to her.

  She watched adoringly as he flicked the engine into action and joined in with his laughter as they shot off up the road towards the traffic.

  Just as he swept her along in his car, tearing in and out of the noisy stream, spinning around this corner and that, so Barry swept Tessa into his life. She was lost in the whirl of it; the gaiety and the fun that he seemed anxious to load on to her, the dazzle of his millionaire playboy existence.

  When her eyes shone, that night, brighter than the neon lights around her she was whipped back to her bedsitter, but only as it happened to snatch a few hours' sleep, for they would be off again when the sun shone.

  As one hectic day merged hazily in with another she began to wonder if Barry knew what it was to slow down. It seemed that every time she tried to catch her breath on this roundabout of wildly extravagant living he would think of something to keep it, and her, spinning.

  Besides the gay whirl of the West End, there were fast drives to the coast with meals at expensive hotels and evenings at the theatre. They went to race meetings and out-of-town tournaments, and called in at gleaming sports car- fronted roadhouses and elegant country clubs on the way.

  Tessa loved it all. How could she help it when it was Barry who was leading the way? And yet… well, once or twice she did have a quiet yearning for the homeliness of her own small room with its neatly embroidered bedspread and floppy armchair and—she could hardly believe it herself—for the humdrum routine of her job at the salon.

  She must be mad, she told herself, she set to work extracting every ounce of enjoyment out of the days.

  And then one evening at the end of the week when she felt that she had packed more living into seven days than she would have done in seven years on her own, Barry called for her and driving no farther than the end of her road, chose a quiet lay-by under the stars.

  Though vaguely surprised at this sudden change of mood, Tessa was only too pleased to be able to lie back and take stock of her feelings. A whole week with Barry I And yet somehow she felt she knew him no better now than she had done that afternoon when he had knocked the parcels out of her arms. She was trying to fathom out why this should be when an arm draped round her shoulders and she found herself being pulled against the boyish frame.

  Her heart thumped loudly. There had never seemed to be time for anything like this before. And talking was something else they hadn't done much of, but Barry looked full of it now.

  'We've had a wild time of it, Tess, and I want it to go on. You do too, don't you?'

  Drowning in the fiercely searching blue gaze, Tessa drew a fluttering breath. 'Of course I do, Barry. You know I'd want anything with you.' She lowered her smile shyly and then pulled in a doubtful sigh. 'But I don't think I should take any more time to work. Perhaps if we made it in the evenings?'

  'Evenings nothing!' His arms tightened about her roughly and then softening his tones he said with the mixture of a grin and a scowl, 'We've got something going, you and me, and I don't plan to let anything get in the way now. We'll keep going as we are. The only thing is…' His gaze holding on to hers seemed to be carefully watching her reaction as he finished, 'We won't be doing it this side of the Channel.'

  Tessa didn't linger over these, last words. She thought it was one of those oblique jokes that boys of his age were inclined to make and left it at that. And then she saw him widening his grin at her and he was rushing almost on the same breath, 'I want you to come to the South of France with me, Tess.'

  'The South of France!' Tessa said it as though it was some far and distant planet. In her small world of bedsitter and job at the salon it might just as well have been.

  All she could do was stare, but Barry was impatient again. 'Well, don't just gape I What do you say?' he asked on a sharp laugh, and then at her wide eyes, 'I may have grown up this side of the water, but I'm more French than English, you know. The family home is at Grasse, just outside Cannes.'

  Tessa nodded vaguely. She knew that his mother had been English, but she was aware that the roots of the business and the family were in France.

  When she could speak she asked dazedly, 'And you mean… you want to take me with you? to your to France?'

  Watching the deep violet eyes become slightly starlit, Barry said quickly, his laugh sheepishly excited now, 'That's it exactly. You'll come, won't you, Tess? Say you'll come!'

  It was Tessa's turn to laugh. But hers was one of pure incredulity. 'Barry!' She stared at him again. 'I've only known you a week!'

  'So what's time got to do with it?' He jerked her against him and in masterful mood growled, 'You're coming with me and that's that.' Perhaps he sensed a certain holding back on her part, for he found her gaze with a quick flare of impatience. 'Look, I'm taking you to the family home. Doesn't that mean anything at all to you?'

  'Oh, it does! It means everything to me!' Tessa looked at him velvet-eyed. 'Only… well, I just can't believe it.'

  'It's for real,' he gripped her and pulled a grin. 'We're going to Grasse for the summer. And…' the blue gaze flickered and trailed off to wander over the driving instruments, 'if anybody wants to know, we're thinking of getting married.'

  'Oh, Barry!' Tessa could only whisper her happiness. He had said the words she had wanted him to say. Now everything was all right. She would go to the ends of the earth with him. She wanted to lie here in his arms and soak up the wonder of it all, but he was already back behind the wheel.

  'We
'll have to explain at your place about your going away,' he said with a slight frown. 'I suppose we'd better go and get it over with.'

  As he started the car engine Tessa sat up to smile. 'I don't have any horrid old guardians. There's only me in my bedsitter.'

  Barry looked at her. 'You mean there's nobody you have to tell?'

  'Only my landlady,' she shrugged.

  'Why, that's great!' He had a look of something like relief. 'That's absolutely great! Now,' as he swung the car off up the road, 'how long will it take you to pack?'

  'Oh, about a day,' Tessa said carelessly, hoping that would make it appear as though she had trunks full of clothes instead of the dozen or so dresses she had made herself.

  'Okay, do it tonight,' Barry said, pulling up with a screech at the house, 'and we'll go first thing in the morning.'

  'So soon!' Tessa clung on to her seat and then tumbled out laughing. 'Well, how do we get there? I mean, will it take long?'

  'A few hours,' Barry grinned. 'We've got our own freight planes. We'll ship the car abroad at Southend and fly to Nice. We should be driving down to the villa in the afternoon. So get moving,' he ordered as she stood watching him. Without switching off the engine he swerved out into the road again. 'See you about eight in the morning.' He waved briefly and flashed away.

  Tessa stumbled up the path too starry-eyed to take it all in. Everything was happening so quickly. Just a week ago Barry had been an unapproachable figure way up there in the clouds somewhere. Someone she could only dream over on her pillow at nights. Now here she was going to France with him. To the Devereux home, of all places. And he had even talked of marriage. It was all so wonderful ! So unbelievably wonderful!

  Of course she was a little older than he was, but what did that matter? And there was the thought too that a week wasn't long in which to reach such momentous decisions. But what of it? She whirled along rapturously. Barry was the type who would move like that once he was sure. Her happiness was so complete she had no intention of spoiling it by giving rein to a tiny tugging uneasiness that persisted inside her. The thought that he hadn't kissed her, for instance. Well, shyness could do funny things to people, couldn't it? And if it seemed that he had arranged everything with a kind of nervous urgency it was probably just that he couldn't wait to get away to the Riviera. They said it was an earthly paradise, didn't they?