Daniel and Daughter Read online

  After a while she said, 'How come you let them get away with that awful picture on the cover?'

  'I was ignorant about photography, and anyway I was only thirty-three. Why should they want to make me seem younger?'

  'Perhaps they thought you looked raddled?' Lee said impishly, and was rewarded with a spontaneous laugh straight into the lens, which she immediately snapped.

  'When my agent said the publisher was hassling me to sign the next contract Phoebe suggested a little blackmail,' he went on. 'I told them they'd have to get a new picture for the book they're printing now, or I wouldn't sign again. They tore their hair but I stood firm. Phoebe then said she knew the perfect photographer, and it dawned on me that she'd been pulling my strings like a puppeteer all the time.'

  He exchanged an affectionate glance with his daughter. It was the look of comrades who knew themselves to be two against the world. Lee wondered how Daniel and Phoebe came to be alone, and what had happened to the woman who was no longer part of his life. Instinctively she suppressed her curiosity.

  She finished the roll of film and said, 'Let's bring Phoebe into some of the pictures, just for fun.' Phoebe bounded eagerly in front of the camera. Lee squinted through the lens at her and drew a deep, disbelieving breath. This girl was a natural.

  She took some shots of them together, then said, 'I've a few frames left. Why don't I finish the film on Phoebe alone?'

  Lee switched on the cassette player and disco music filled the studio. Phoebe began to sway with instinctive grace. With her colouring and her languorous movements she resembled a tigress, and Lee clicked away ecstatically.

  'Fine, that's it!' she called at last.

  Mark and Sonya had come into the studio while she was working. Phoebe hurried over, full of excited chatter about her afternoon, and Sonya introduced her to Mark.

  Lee turned to Daniel. 'About that insurance…'

  'Forget it. The fault was mine in the first place.'

  'But-'

  'Lee, please don't refuse me this,' he said seriously. 'Call it my thank-you for your kindness to Phoebe. She'll remember today all her life.'

  It would have been churlish to refuse when he put it like that. 'All right,' she said. "Thank you.'

  He followed her into her office and shut the door behind them. 'I'll remember today too,' he said, 'as the day we really met. I want very badly to see you again.'

  So he hadn't really dropped the subject; he'd only been biding his time. Lee tried to ignore the treacherous inner voice that said she was glad he hadn't given up so easily.

  'Why are you trying to put me off?' he persisted. 'Is there someone else?'

  'No, there's no one in my life at the moment, and I want to keep it that way.'

  'For how long? When will you want someone in your life? I'll come back then.'

  She was saved from having to answer by the door bursting open and Phoebe erupting into the room. 'Mrs Meredith, when will the pictures be ready?' she asked anxiously.

  'The day after tomorrow.'

  'You already have my card, haven't you?' Daniel asked with a grin. 'Call me when they're ready and I'll come for them.'

  He took her hand and held it for a moment. She found the persistence of that warm clasp unnerving.

  Outside the office Mark and Phoebe were deep in conversation. 'Come on, Phoebe, time for home,' Daniel said.

  Lee went with them to the front door. She was afraid he'd ask her out again, but Phoebe and Mark were right behind them and in the melee of goodbyes there was no chance for any more to be said. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the Raifes depart together, Daniel's arm around his daughter's shoulders. She had no intention of ever seeing him again.

  Next day Gillian was lyrical. 'Fancy you actually having a session with Daniel Raife!' she bubbled. 'He's better looking in the flesh than on TV, isn't he?'

  'I wouldn't know,' Lee said coolly. 'I seldom watch television. Have you got those pictures of his daughter?'

  They studied the pictures together, both startled by Phoebe's impact. 'You must send these to a model agency,' Gillian said.

  'I can't do that. Her father would hit the roof.'

  'But what does Phoebe want?'

  'She talks about being a model, but it might be just a passing phase. He certainly thinks so.'

  'Passing phase, nothing! Not with that kind of talent.'

  'But she's also overloaded with brains, and his heart is set on her using them.'

  'But she doesn't have to do what he wants. She's entitled to choose her own career.'

  'It's funny,' Lee said, 'but I don't think that's ever occurred to him. Not if it means her choosing something he doesn't like.'

  When she was alone Lee studied the photographs of Daniel and knew that her decision to avoid him had been wise. Everything was there: the disturbing mixture of gravity and irony, the suggestion of authority, the hint that behind this lay anarchy. His face was full of fascinating life, endlessly mobile, the dark eyes gleaming, the generous mouth made for laughter, and for something else…

  Lee allowed herself to consider that mouth, and how it might have felt to kiss it. She knew that if she'd accepted his invitation they would have ended the evening in each other's arms, and because of that she'd rejected him. The years with Jimmy had taught her to fear her own instincts, and now she was deeply settled in the habit of playing safe. She could fall in love with Daniel, if she was fool enough to let herself. And as soon as Lee Meredith knew that about a man, he'd lost her.

  She went to the studio early next morning and packed up Daniel's pictures. She wrote him a brief, formal note, expressing the hope that he would approve of her work, and was just putting the address on the envelope when Mark walked in.

  'I just happened to be passing,' he said casually. 'Thought I'd see how you were.'

  'That's very kind of you, little brother,' she said, wondering what it was that he really wanted.

  'How did the pictures of the great man come out?'

  'They're in that envelope.' While Mark studied the shots she telephoned for a messenger to collect them. When she'd finished she found him staring at her in dismay.

  'I thought they were coming here to see them?' he said.

  The penny dropped. 'They were never coming here, Mark. Mr Raife said he might come. He didn't mention bringing Phoebe.'

  'Yes, but she'd-' He broke off, blushing.

  'She'd have insisted on coming too,' Lee supplied. 'Hence your appearance in my studio.'

  'Oh, shut up!' he mumbled.

  Lee preserved a grave face, but with difficulty. She couldn't blame Mark for being smitten with the ravishing Phoebe. And now that his lordly world-weariness had given way to adolescent confusion, she liked him a great deal more.

  At that moment her model arrived and Lee hurried to get to work. She forgot all about Mark, and when she next looked he was gone.

  The house was empty when she got home later that day, and Lee enjoyed a pleasant afternoon, relaxing by herself. At six o'clock, when she was stretched on the sofa with a book, the doorbell rang. On the step she found a special delivery messenger, with a letter for her.

  The letter was in a firm, masculine hand.

  It was cunning (but not very brave) of you to send your brother round with the pictures. However, I can take a hint, and will keep my distance. But only for the moment. I haven't given up.

  The pictures are excellent. Phoebe is ecstatic about hers. She and Mark are very taken with each other and have gone out this afternoon.

  Until we meet again, (as we certainly will).

  Daniel.

  'What's up, Mum?' asked Sonya, who'd just arrived home.

  'I think I've seriously underestimated Mark,' Lee said. She described what had happened, giving a carefully edited version of the letter.

  'Have you only just found out,' Sonya asked, much entertained. 'What about the messenger you ordered?'

  'Mark must have cancelled him when my back was turned. I noticed the e
nvelope gone and assumed the messenger had come and Gillian had given it to him. Fancy Mark thinking up a bit of sharp practice like that.'

  'Love makes a man infinitely cunning,' Sonya said, with adolescent wisdom.

  'I don't think he's actually in love with her-'

  'Oh, come on, Mum! It was written all over him in the car coming home the other day. He was terribly quiet and preoccupied.'

  'I didn't notice.'

  'Well, you were quiet and preoccupied yourself.'

  'I didn't notice that, either,' Lee said, abstractedly, and failed to see the curious look Sonya gave her. She was realising, with dismay, that now it was impossible for her to sever all links with Daniel Raife.

  It became clear that Mark's interest in Phoebe wasn't an idle one. He would have seen her several times a week but for her father, who restricted dates to weekends. Lee learned this from Sonya, who received Phoebe's confidences.

  'You haven't forgotten that Phoebe won't be sixteen for several weeks,' she said to Mark once.

  'Lee, if you're suggesting what I think you are, you can forget it,' Mark said loftily. 'Neither Phoebe or '. want to hurry our relationship. Besides,' he added, stepping down from his soap box, 'old man Raife would boil me in oil if he suspected anything like that.'

  Lee opened her mouth to protest that Daniel was far from being an old man, thought better of it, and closed her mouth again.

  She'd got her car back, but it immediately developed gearbox trouble and was soon out of action again, which made Mark tear his hair.

  'You'll have to take the divine Phoebe out in taxi,' Sonya said callously one evening.

  Mark scowled and flung out of the house. Sonya, carefully avoiding her mother's eye, observed, 'In future I think I'd better taste my food very, very carefully.'

  'If he doesn't poison you, I shall,' Lee told her, exasperated. 'Now you've let me in for a rerun of the car argument. I suppose I'll have to give in. He's not having seven thousand pounds, but he can have three thousand.'

  But when she arrived home the next day Sonya bounded to the door to meet her. 'Look over there,' she cried dramatically.

  A car was parked a few yards away. It was solid, ugly, about ten years old, and painted a lurid crimson.

  'Who on earth does that hideous thing belong to?' Lee demanded. 'Sonya-no! It isn't-? Mark hasn't-?'

  'He has. He arrived with it half an hour ago.'

  'But where did he get the money?'

  'What money? It can't have cost more than four-pence.'

  'It'll get us thrown out of the street,' Lee said faintly.

  When Mark appeared she learned that he'd bought the car from the garage that was repairing hers. It had cost him eight hundred pounds, paid for with credit raised against his student grant.

  'You'd have done better to wait,' Lee said. 'I was going to let you have three thousand.'

  'Lee, you don't understand. I don't want a three-thousand-pound car. I want a seven-thousand-pound car. If I can't have the one I want I prefer that one because I raised the money for it myself.'

  Lee understood that Mark's masculine pride had somehow become involved, and whatever she did would be wrong. But next morning she telephoned the garage owner, a man she trusted, and he reassured her that the vehicle was mechanically safe.

  As it was a Saturday, Mark used the car to take Phoebe out that night. Late in the evening a bouquet of pink roses was delivered to Lee with a note.

  I'd have liked to make these red, but I was afraid you'd send them back. Is that heap of scrap metal safe? When may I come into your life? Daniel.

  Lee wrote back.

  Thank you for the lovely roses, and thank you even more for not making them red. The mechanic assures me that it is. Never. Lee.

  There was no reply to this, and Lee began to relax.

  It was exam time. Sonya's temper seemed shorter than usual, and she was unreasonable enough to blame Lee, actually saying, 'Honestly, Mum, you're like a bear with,a sore head, these days.' Lee bore this injustice with saintly patience, as befitted a mother at examination time.

  'Mind you, it's worse for Phoebe,' Sonya said over breakfast one morning. 'Even though she's so young she's taking the entrance exam for Oxford, and she's terrified she's going to pass.'

  'Terrified she's going to pass?' Lee echoed, puzzled.

  'Yes. She doesn't want to go to Oxford, but her father's set his heart on it. Oh, look Mum! There he is!'

  'Where?' Lee said sharply.

  "There's no need to jump like that. He's in the paper.'

  Lee studied the newspaper that Sonya pushed across the table, and saw one of her own pictures of Daniel forming part of an advertisement for a book called Women, Beware Men, to be published in a week's time. There were the dates of several television interviews.

  'We must watch,' Sonya said.

  'You can if you like,' Lee said casually. 'I have other things to do.'

  In the end she saw him by accident. While channel-hopping she found Daniel's face smiling at her.

  'Scientists have known for years that women are really the stronger sex,' he was saying. 'They stand up better than men to extremes of heat, cold and pain. They're tougher too.'

  The interviewer, a young woman, pressed him. 'Then how did men gain the upper hand?'

  'Because we have the muscular power. You're stronger in the long term, but we're stronger in the short term, which is where most decisions are made.

  'I picture a cave woman hunting for food, millions of years ago. As soon as she'd slain the deer some muscle-bound lout jumped out, bopped her on the head and took the credit for her kill. And we've gone on stealing your credit ever since.'

  'But surely that's all over now?'

  'Not at all. It's just moved on. Men have used women's new freedoms to make their own lives easier. Always beware the man who seems on your side.

  'But doesn't that include yourself, Mr Raife?'

  'Oh, yes, you should beware me more than anyone.'

  Daniel gave his attractive laugh, and the interview ended in good humour. Lee switched off, wishing she hadn't seen him. The screen image had reminded her powerfully of the real man, and undone the work of weeks.

  It was nearly summer. Mark's college was celebrating the end of term with a dance, to which he was planning to take Phoebe. He returned from a date with her one evening and found Lee about to go to bed. 'I've got a letter for you, from Phoebe's dad,' he said. 'He made me promise to make sure you read it.'

  Lee thought she could make a good guess at the letter's contents, but Daniel managed to surprise her. It was an excessively formal document, typewritten on his business stationery.

  Dear Mrs Meredith,

  I'm sure you agree with me that the time has come for us to make each other's acquaintance properly. Your brother is becoming important in my daughter's life, and, although they are both naturally too young for anything serious to come of it, I feel that a meeting between our two families would be beneficial at this time.

  I therefore propose that the four of us should attend the dance at Mark's college. I would be grateful for a reply at your earliest convenience.

  Yours sincerely, Daniel F. Raife.

  The name was followed by a string of letters detailing his many degrees. They added the final touch to the letter's suffocating formality.

  'He says I can only take Phoebe if you're his guest and we all go together,' Mark said, reading over her shoulder. 'Ye gods! He isn't normally as pompous as that.'

  'I know,' Lee said. 'I wonder how many attempts it took him to strike just that note of old fogeyism.'

  'Why should he want to sound like an old fogey?'

  'To make it impossible for me to refuse, of course.'

  'Well, why should you want to refuse? You will go, won't you?'

  'Yes, love, I'll go. I've been thoroughly outmanoeuvred and I may as well give in gracefully. And don't ask me what that means because you wouldn't understand the half of it.'

  CHAPTER THREE


  As the dance was a formal occasion everyone assembled in evening dress. Mark's dinner jacket and bow tie set off his baby face, making him look cherubic and innocent. Phoebe, whom Daniel brought to Lee's house to collect the rest of the party, was wearing a long dress of white chiffon.

  Lee was in sapphire-blue and knew she looked lovely. There was a glow in her perfect complexion and a sparkle in her eyes that had nothing to do with make-up. It was the prospect of seeing Daniel after the long weeks of self-denial.

  As soon as she set eyes on him she knew that every moment of those weeks had been wasted. She'd thought of him so often that he seemed to have been with her all the time. Now she saw him in the flesh and was struck again by his blazing good looks. Daniel's conventional dinner jacket and bow tie poorly concealed his true self-the primitive male or the prowl, intent on luring the desired female into his lair.

  She'd eluded him for weeks, but he'd stalked her with skill and patience, and finally brought her to the mouth of the cave. Now his quiet appearance was telling her that she needn't fear going in; she would be perfectly safe. But she didn't trust Daniel for a moment. He hadn't gone to so much trouble to snare her merely to let her be safe.

  The joyful look that passed between Mark and Phoebe gave her a moment's poignant sadness. They were so young and vulnerable in their certainty that their happiness would last.

  'Are you ready to go?' came Daniel's voice in her ear. 'I've been trying to attract your attention for the last minute.'

  'I was watching them,' she said, indicating the two youngsters, who'd drawn a little apart.

  'But you were thinking of something else as well,' he said. 'Something that made you sad.'

  'I think it's always a bit sad to see children of that age fancy themselves in love. They're so sure it's going to last for ever, and we know it isn't.'

  'I agree. But there was more in your face-a whole history.'

  'Shouldn't we be going?' she asked hastily. Daniel was coming too close to secrets she wasn't ready to tell.

  The great hall of the college was lit up and lavishly decorated with flowers. The dancing had begun and Phoebe and Mark drifted into each other's arms, oblivious to the rest of the world.