Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine (english love story books .TXT) 📗

to a stupid, cheap joke. John. Handsome, powerful, malicious John, pilloried by a tatty TV advertisement; reduced to a trite little sketch, to be screened between Coronation Street and the evening quiz show. She shivered unhappily as she put them down.

Nick was back in ten minutes with a bottle of gin, four bottles of tonic, and a carafe of chianti.

Jo let him in silently.

"I take it you don't like the idea?" He glanced at her as he produced a lemon from the pocket of his jacket. "Is there any ice?"

She nodded. "It just seems rather... small. "

"Jo, Mike has laid it on the line. He wants this idea or out. Our boys think it will work. It's an amusing script even for the people, if there are any, who don't know what the hell we're talking about. If I veto it, we lose the account. "

"Then it must go on. "

"Is it any worse than what you propose to do with your articles and your book?" He took her hands gently. Jo shook her head.

He gave a small smile. "Jo, don't you think it's what we need? To send ourselves up a little bit? Humor is an awfully good anodyne. "

"I know. It's just... "

"I know what it is, Jo. " Releasing her, Nick turned toward the kitchen. "I've been there, remember?" He changed the subject abruptly. "Are you going to come to New York with me—" He broke off with a curse as, behind them, the phone rang. Swinging back into the room, he picked it up.

"Hello?" There was complete silence on the other end of the line. They both heard the connection go dead.

Nick slammed down the receiver.

"Wrong number, " he said cheerfully. "Now, where was I?" He put his hands gently on Jo's shoulders. "Well, will you come?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes. " She moved back slightly. "Will we ever be able to forget all this, Nick?"

He turned away and, picking up the bottles, led the way into the kitchen. "In time it will distance itself like a bad dream, I expect. I hope. " He gave his boyish smile. "Till then we must just make sure nothing else happens—apart from the happy ending. "

They ate their supper in silence, neither suggesting they turn on any music, watching the light fade in the room as darkness came.

The phone rang again. After a moment Nick stretched across and lifted the receiver. Once again, when he spoke the line went dead. "It's Sam, " Jo whispered into the silence. He sat back, not looking at her, his eyes on the open French doors onto the balcony. The streetlights gave a pale, false moonlit wash to the stone of the balustrade. He did not dare move. He did not dare even think about her. Suddenly danger crackled in the atmosphere between them, held at bay only by the quiet.

Then it was gone. Nick turned and looked at Jo covertly. She was sitting uncomfortably, drawn to the edge of her chair by the urgency of the phone bell, her shoulders tense, the angle of her head defiant as she stared past him, as if she were listening to something far away inside herself.

Nick was suddenly galvanized into movement. "Jo! Jo, for Christ's sake, don't do it! Jo!" He caught her shoulders and shook her hard. "Jo, can you hear me?"

Her hands had come up automatically and she clutched convulsively at his shirt front. "Nick—"

"Hold on, Jo. Don't let it happen. Fight it, Jo. Fight it!"

She let go of him abruptly and clapped her hands to her head.

The blackness was whirling around her; there was a roaring in her ears, waves of sound annihilating her, like torrents of angry water toppling over onto a beach. There were chains on her wrists and rain, rain in the shadows, rain in the wind howling around her, tearing at the huge red-and-gold standard with the clawing leopards of England as it strained high in the darkness, tearing her clothes, and above all the sound of thunder. But Nick was still beside her. She could see his mouth moving. He was talking to her, his hands outstretched to hold her. It was Nick... Nick...

The telephone bell cut through the sound, echoing in the room for the third time that night. Neither of them took any notice of it. To Nick it echoed obscenely in the silence, for Jo it drove the whirling noise away. As suddenly as the dislocation had come, it passed, leaving her shaking like a leaf.

She collapsed into Nick's arms, tears pouring down her face. "It wanted to happen again, Nick. I was at the castle at Carrickfergus. You were there too.... "

"But you fought it, love. " He gathered her tightly against his chest. "You fought it. " Behind them the phone fell silent. "It won't happen again. You know now you can fight it. You can. It's all right, Jo. It's all right. You're safe. "

She was still clinging to him desperately. "Don't go, don't leave me—"

"I won't leave you, Jo. " He smiled down at her reassuringly. "Come on. It's all over now. You're safe. "

"Make love to me, Nick. "

He tensed slightly. "You know I want to, but—Jo, I have my own demons to fight too. I'm afraid of what I might do. "

She was shaking her head, still clinging to his neck. "You won't hurt me, Nick. You won't. Just make love to me. Make me part of you. Please. You have to—" Her voice rose suddenly. "Please, Nick. Now. Here. "

"No, Jo. " Gently he held her away from him. "Not here. "

He led her through into her bedroom and, closing the curtains, turned on the bedside light. She was standing quite still, looking at the floor. Her shaking had stopped. He put his hands on her shoulders. "You're sure this is what you want?"

She nodded. "Undress me, Nick. "

He frowned. She was standing before him completely submissive, no longer hysterical, not moving as he raised his hand