LITMIR.BIZ

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more or less completely on his own in London … what could I say?’

      ‘Mmm … well, Kate won’t see it that way. It would have been much better if you’d explained the situation to her. She’ll take one look at him and immediately she’s going to think the obvious—that he’s someone you’ve invited specifically to partner her, and you know how sensitive she is about that sort of thing.’

      ‘Mmm. Honestly, John, it almost breaks my heart. It’s such a waste … She’s so beautiful, but she behaves as though she’s the original Ugly Sister.’

      ‘I know. Ricky Hammond has one hell of a lot to answer for.’ John got up and put an arm round his wife’s shoulders. ‘I know you only want to help her, Sue, but you can’t. God alone knows what kind of psychological damage Hammond and her mother between them did to her, but it certainly can’t be put right by arranging dinner party partners for her.’

      ‘Then what will put it right?’

      ‘I don’t really know. It sounds trite, but all I can think of is good old-fashioned love, and Kate’s so withdrawn I doubt she could ever allow herself to believe any man could love her.’

      ‘How could he do that to her, John?’ Sue asked her husband miserably. ‘How could Ricky marry her and then treat her like that?’

      ‘Men like Hammond who are driven by an obsession, whether it’s drink, drugs or gambling, don’t function in the same way as the rest of us.’

      ‘Mmm … If I ring Kate now and tell her that the Bensons are bringing a spare man, ten to one she’ll refuse to come.’

      ‘Okay, but be prepared for fireworks,’ her husband warned her with a grin. ‘Kate won’t like it. Who is this man anyway?’

      ‘I don’t know his name. Vera Benson simply rang up last night and asked if they could bring him along. Apparently he’s in the same line of business as her husband—merchant banking, although at the moment he’s based in New York. Vera said he was thinking of transferring his main business to London, something about world time differences working more efficiently for him in London than they do in New York.’

      ‘Mmm … a lot of the big money men are transferring their business to London. Because of the new sophisticated communications systems it means that they can take advantage of the fact that, during the British working day, they can get in touch with both New York and Hong Kong during their working days, which gives them an immediate advantage.’

      John grinned at his wife’s astounded expression and admitted wryly, ‘I read it in the Sunday Times magazine. If the Bensons’ friend is one of these money men, chances are he’ll be a real high-flier. Most of them are burned-out by the time they’re thirty.’

      ‘Oh, yeah? Did you read that in the Sunday Times as well?’

      ‘Yep.’ His smile was unrepentant, as he added comfortingly, ‘It sounds as though he isn’t going to be Kate’s type at all. If I know anything about these big business men he’ll spend most of the evening talking with Benson, so with any luck Kate won’t realise you’re trying to palm him off on her.’ He broke off as he saw the frown pleating his wife’s forehead and enquired, ‘Now what’s the matter?’

      ‘What? Oh … if he’s as important as all that, he’s not going to think much of the simple meal I was planning to serve. I wonder if it’s too late to …’

      ‘Yes,’ John told her firmly. ‘Whatever it is you’re planning to change, don’t. He’ll probably appreciate simple fare for a change. For goodness’ sake, Sue, stop worrying. It’s giving you grey hairs,’ he teased, watching as his wife abandoned her concern over the menu to rush over to the mirror to stare at her still-bright blonde hair.

      Half-past eight was the time Sue had specified for her arrival, and knowing that she needed to allow a good three-quarters of an hour to drive to Sue’s home, at half-past six Kate abandoned the work she was doing and went upstairs to run a bath.

      At half-past seven she was ready to slip into her dress. She paused to check her make-up first, wondering if the deep pink glossy lipstick was too much. She had a natural eye for colour, and although she didn’t wear make-up very often, tonight she had found it surprisingly easy to apply. Just a touch of dark blue eyeshadow brought out the intense depth of her eyes, blusher highlighting the cheekbones which gave her face its distinctive definition. The fullness of her mouth beneath its careful coating of lipstick was almost gypsyish, as was the untamed thickness of her hair worn long now as opposed to the short, almost boyish cut her mother had chosen for her just before her marriage.

      She picked up the dress and put it on, securing the two buttons that fastened it at the waist. It fitted her surprisingly well, the wide stiffened belt that went with it emphasising the smallness of her waist, the silk hissing softly as she walked across the room to put on her shoes—a rather old pair of black high-heeled sandals which were the only suitable footwear for the dress that she had.

      In them she would probably tower over most of the other guests at the dinner party, including the men, she thought wryly, eyeing her five foot eight frame with familiar dislike.

      The rain had stopped, and as she stepped outside she breathed in deeply, savouring the fresh, clean smell of wet grass and earth. She was so lucky to live here … to have the lifestyle that she did, and even though she had to part with the house, she still had the cottage.

      There had been a letter for her in the post this morning from her solicitor confirming that the lease was now terminated. Tomorrow she must go down to the cottage and look over it, and then she would have to put the house on the market for sale.

      Sighing faintly, she slid into the driver’s seat of her ancient car and started the ignition. As always it was several minutes before the little car coughed and spluttered into life. This evening for some reason in fact, it seemed more reluctant than ever to start, and even once it had, the engine ran in a hesitant, uncertain fashion that made Kate guiltily aware that it was some months since she had last had it serviced.

      Because she felt reluctant to push her car too hard, she arrived later than she had anticipated and there were three unfamiliar cars already parked in the Martins’ generous drive before her.

      She stopped her car and got out, cursing herself for arriving late. She would have preferred to arrive first so that she could study her fellow guests without feeling that they were scrutinising her. Now it might seem almost as though she had deliberately delayed in order to make an entrance.

      Sue opened the door for her, her eyes widening in stunned appreciation of her dress.

      ‘Kate, you look fantastic!’ she enthused, hugging her. ‘Where on earth did you get that?’

      ‘My mother sent it to me a couple of Christmases ago.’ She grimaced faintly. ‘I hope I’m not going to be overdressed.’

      ‘In that?’ Sue grinned mischievously at her. ‘I doubt that any man would think so. It’s really quite sexy …’ She could have bitten her tongue when she saw Kate’s wary, troubled expression, and quickly hurried her towards the drawing-room, whispering as she did so, ‘The others have all arrived. The Hugheses and the Dentons came together, but …’ She broke off as they reached the open drawing-room door, standing back so that Kate was forced to precede her through it.

      The Martins’ drawing-room was as familiar to her as her own and so she was free to concentrate her attention on her fellow guests. Two couples stood by the window chatting, and Kate vaguely recognised them from Sue’s Christmas cocktail party. One of the men was a consultant based at the local hospital and the other man was something in hospital administration. The quartet saw her and smiled in her direction. Nothing to worry about there—two comfortably married middle-aged couples. A little of her apprehension melted and the tension down her spine eased slightly.

      ‘Kate, come and meet Vera and Ian Benson. They’ve bought The Grange …’

      The couple Sue wanted to introduce her to were standing

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