Chapter 32: Chapter 32

Next morning, Nancy drove up to see her parents and take them their Christmas presents. She did not tell them that she was going to have a baby and so far, there was nothing to betray that fact.

Nevertheless, her mother picked up on her weariness and have her an anxious look.

'Your holiday in Vienna does not seem to have done you much good. You look very pale, dear'.

'I'm fine, just tired after the long drive here'.

Her father gave a disapproving grunt. 'You travel too much - we keep getting those post cards from you. Rome, one minute, then you are in Germany, now Australia... it's a wonder you don't get giddy, flying round the world like that all the time. You will be thirty before you know it and still not married yet. And never will be if you continue on your travels this way. This boss of yours, is he a married man? What does his wife think of him going away with you all the time?'

'His wife was killed in a car crash, Dad's, her mother murmured uneasily. 'You remember our Sharon told us about it. Very sad. Poor man. Is he over it yet?'

Sharon shook her head. 'I doubt if he ever will!'

She left for London the following afternoon and got back to her flat in a howling blizzard. She was shivering violently, She ran a hot bath and stayed on it till the water began to cool, felt quite dizzy as she got out of it and went to bed at once, with a hot water bottle and several duvet piled on top of her.

In the morning, she couldn't get up. She felt feverish, her limbs ached, she had a headache. Not more flu! she thought gloomily then rang David to explain but he had already rang to say he won't be coming in to work either.

'We must have the same bug', she said to his secretary who sniffed.

'I wonder where you both picked it up from then', she said with a voice which dripped with acid.

Sharon did not answer but after she rang off, she lay in bed thinking grimly. Was there alot of gossip going round the bank about her and David? Nobody had said anything to her but she knew how the staff talked. Neither she nor David had mentioned to the staff that they were going on a holiday together but it might somehow have got out. What conclusion would they reach? The same as Bryan? That she and David were having an affair?

She made an angry face. The gossip had to be stopped. But how was she going to stop it? Maybe she should confide in someone, casually. Make sure that the truth circulated instead. Her own secretary? Her head hurt too much. She could not think straight. She turned over and went to sleep.

Hours later, she was woken by someone who rang the front doorbell. She ignored it. It couldn't be anything important. Then it came again, louder and more insistent. A sharp ringing that she couldn't ignore.

She yawned. Looked at the clock on her bedside table. Just gone midday. She dragged herself pit of bed, wore a turquoise- blue velvet dressing gown and wearily made it to the front door, keeping it on the chain as she opened the door.

Through the crack, Bryan's dark eyes flashed over her, 'Oh, you're here!'

'Where did you think I'd be? The Sahara?' What was he doing here?

'As you and David had conviniently rang to say you were taking sick leave. I did wonder if I'd find you sharing one bed!' he told her with dry sarcasm.

'Oh go away. I'm too I'll to cope with you', she said hating him. She tried to shut the door but found his foot in the way.

' Let me in!' he said.

Her eyes glazed with tears because it made her heart ache to see him and she was too I'll to hide it.

'I'm not that crazy!' she bitterly said. 'Just go away, will you'.

He stared at her grimly,walked away and then before she could shut the door, he came running back, full tilt, hit the door with a tremendous crash and she felt the thin chain snap. The door swung open and Bryan came with it, almost knocking her off her feet.

As she stumbled backwards, Bryan shit the front door behind him with a kick and caught her by the waist, almost in the same movement, picking her up and carrying her into her bedroom. He sat with her on her tumbled bed, her head on his lap, his arms around her.

Her head whirling, she glared up at him. 'Who do you think you are? John Wayne? How dare you smash your way into my flat? Now I shall have to have a new chain fitted! I'll send you the bill. And let go of me, will you?'

He ignored her, pulled open the belt of her dressing gown and began pushing it off her shoulders.

Her face burning, she slapped his hands away. 'What do you think you are doing?If you think for one moment that I'd let you touch me again, you are put of your skull! Even if you were the last man on earth, I'd rather die Let go of me!'

He dropped her dressing gown on the end of the bed and got up, letting her slide on to the bed. Get in between the sheets!'

'I'll scream the place down if you as much as lay one ginger on me!' she muttered, her head swimming.

'Don't be stupid, woman!'he growled. Yanked back the duvet and top sheet, smoothed the bottom sheet deftly as though accustomed to making his own bed,then turned and picked her up, kicking and fighting and almost threw her down, her head tumbling on to the pillows. Then he pulled the bed clothes back up over her and she sagged, feeling too strange to argue anymore, closed her eyes a few hot years trickling down her face.

'Bully'.

He bent down and talked close to her ear. She felt his warm breath on her lobe and shivered. 'Have you been taking anything? Any medicine? Have you seen a doctor?'

'No!' she said. 'Paracetamol. I don't need anything else. I've just got a touch of flu'.

'What's the name of your doctor?'

Panic streaked through her, her doctor might just tell him that she was expecting a baby. She struggled up on one elbow, glaring at him through her tangled auburn hair.

'I don't need a doctor. Will you go away? Leave me alone! All I need is sleep'.

He stared down at her, blackly frowning, then he walked over to the window and pulled the curtains together, plunging the room into shadow.

Collapsing back on to her pillow, Sharon watched him walk to the door.

'Goidbye', she said to his back and through her half closed eyes,stared hungrily at the long graceful line of his spine as he moved. The elegant motion of the body under his smoothly tailored suit. Her mouth went dry at the memory. His black hair was dishevelled and windswept, it had looked like that while he was rising and falling above her, she had ran her hands into it, clenching fingers in those strands.

She could not bear to remember it. Groaning, she shut her eyes.

He went out without a word, a backward look, closing the bedroom door behind him. She listened, another door closed sharply. The front door, she thought. He had gone. She shit her eyes, her lashes wet with years She wouldn't think about him. She sought refuge in sleep, her last resort.