Heart On Fire Part 6

Claudia picked up another cloth, beginning to brush his shirt and jacket clean, but he knocked her hand away, then turned on his heel and walked out without another word.

"Oh, dear!" Annette said inadequately, staring in disbelief at his vanishing figure before she turned her horrified eyes on her sister.

Pierre was standing there too, open-mouthed and apparently lost for words.

Then there was a strong smell of burning and Pierre swore in violent French, s.n.a.t.c.hing a pan, containing blackened escalope de veau, off the stove. He flung it~ pan and all, into the kitchen waste-bin, then tore at his hair with both hands.

"First my soup, and now the escalope!" he shouted. "What do you mean to ruin next, Claudia? Why don't you just cut my throat and get it over with quickly. What do I tell my customers, eh? Maybe you like to go out there and pour soup over all of them?"

Claudia burst into tears and rushed out of the kitchen and up the back stairs to the flat she shared with her sister and brother-in-law. She shouldn't have thrown that soup over Ellis. Oh, he deserved it--she 61 didn't regret throwing it at him. She was sorry she had used Pierre's special soup, though. No wonder Pierre was furious. She couldn't blame him. He was proud of his cold cress and cuc.u.mber soup; it was popular.

Pierre was temperamental, of course, but then a good chef often was--things were always going wrong in a kitchen. Even the best chefs made mistakes, and then they became angry or depressed, and brooded or broke things.

She knew Pierre would get over his rage; he would be sorry for shouting at her, once he had recovered his sense of humour, and she would apologise and promise not to chuck his soup over anyone again, Pierre would roar with laughter, and then they would be friends again.

Ellis was another matter. Ellis had insulted her. What did he think she was? She burned with indignation every time she thought about that offer, but inexplicably she was unable to stop herself crying, either, and spent ten minutes on her bed, her face buried in the quilt, occasionally kicking her bed in a fury, as if she wished it were Ellis Lefevre.

It must have been more than an hour later that Annette came up to knock at her door.

"Come on, love, open up, let me talk to you!"

Claudia by then had splashed cold water on her face, brushed out her hair, straightened her dress, and was sitting in a chair by the window staring out at the London street lights and above them the plum-dark London night sky which reflected them.

She was quiet and sober now. She unlocked her door and Annette came in, warily eyeing her face.

"I'm sorry for the scene," Claudia said flatly. "Don't be silly! We don't blame you."

"I lost my tempter. I didn't stop to think... I felt awful about Pierre's lovely soup, what a waste..."

Annette gave a sudden giggle.

"Oh, but he looked so funny... like someone who has been fished out of a pond, covered in green slime..."

"Yes," said Claudia, quite struck, "That's just how he looked!" She thought about the scene, Ellis standing there, his eyes metallic and icy, and then she groaned, "Oh, he was so furious!"

"Serves him right!" Annette st.u.r.dily said.

"Imagine it--asking you to be his mistress! Well! The nerve of the man!

For a minute I didn't catch on, I was so flabbergasted by the money he talked about, by all the wonderful perks... but, of course, when you accused him and I saw his face, then I knew you were right. That was what he meant, all right." Annette's teeth met and she reddened with temper.

"And of course Pierre thought it very funny."

"Is he still angry with me? Not that I'd blame him, if he is!"

"No, don't worry. He's back to normal now. We've finished serving all the tables, the last customers are on their coffees, and Pierre is having his usual coffee and brandy. He did annoy me, though, saying that he saw nothing so very odd in that man's disgusting proposition. He said it was very rational, very French, Many Frenchmen have a mistress, especially when they're middle-aged and bored with their wives, Pierre said. I told 'him that if he was thinking of taking a mistress he had better think again because I'd be after him with a meat cleaver, if he did! He seemed quite flattered by that."

Claudia laughed.

"He likes to think you're jealous, it soothes his ego."

63 "Aren't men unbelievable?" Annette said.

"I pointed out to him that Ellis Lefevre wasn't French, but Swiss, and Pierre said, yes, but he was from French-speaking Switzerland, which it seems is a wonderful thing to be, or so Pierre seemed to think. Couldn't be better, according to him. The Swiss are so rich, and Speaking French too they are very civilised. And very correct, too, Pierre said, coming to make you the offer in front of your family--excellent terms, and there would have been a contract, all legally drawn up and some sort of severance pay on a sliding scale, according to how long you had been with him " Stop it! " Claudia burst out, quite distraught, and her sister stopped obediently, looking at her anxiously. " I was only joking, love! " "He wasn't," Claudia snapped.

"Ellis Lefevre meant it. He was offering me a lot of money, and it wasn't for secretarial work, whatever he may have pretended."

"No," agreed Annette drily.

"Maybe I'm more old-fashioned than I thought I was--but I was insulted,"

Claudia said.

"I bet he's never offered her money..."

"Her?" Annette looked confused.

"That Estelle girl, whose father is mixed up with the management of the hotel. Ellis Lefevre wouldn't dream of trying to buy her! He might marry her one day, but me... Oh, I'm n.o.body--I'm just a secretary, without money or influence. Men like Ellis Lefevre don't marry girls like me!"

"Claudia, you only met him a couple of days ago," her sister slowly reminded her.

"You surely can't be taking him seriously? What went on in that suite at the hotel, for heaven's sake?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all!" Claudia said, forcing herself to meet Annette's eyes without flinching or looking away. She saw relief in her sister's face. She had managed to convince Annette. It wasn't so easy to convince herself.

Next day she had an interview for a part-time job in an accountant's office, but knew almost from the start that she hadn't got a hope of succeeding. The thin, middle-aged woman behind the desk kept looking at her red-gold hair, big green eyes and slender figure, and pursing her lips in disapproval.

"I don't think you are really suitable," she told her at last.

"I.

don't feel you would fit in here. " Claudia didn't feel she would, either. She walked back to the restaurant, to save money, wondering how long her savings would last if she didn't get another job soon. She had to pay her voice coach and her dance studio, on Wednesday she had an audition out in the wilds of a North London suburb and she needed new shoes.

The hotel job had been the best she had ever had. Varied, interesting, enjoyable--until she had met Ellis Lefevre!

She walked round to the back of the restaurant to go in through the kitchen entrance~ but just before she reached the door a young man got out of a parked car, stepped into her path and gave. her a shy, uneasy smile.

"Miss Thorburn? h.e.l.lo, you probably don't remember me---I was here last night, with my brother..."

Claudia looked blankly at him for a second, then suddenly recognised his pale complexion, the thin, serious face and brown hair and eyes.

It was the young man who had been in the restaurant with Ellis last night.

"Brother?" she repeated, taken aback. Surely not? There was no resemblance to Ellis whatsoever.

' ,65 "Yes, I'm Stephen Lefevre." He politely offered his hand, but Claudia didn't take it. She was frowning, her green eyes alive with suspicion and hostility.

"What do you want here, Mr. Lefevre?" she asked coldly.

"I thought I'd made myself quite clear to your brother? I don't want to set eyes on him again and I'm not interested in his proposition. Go back to him and tell him that I haven't changed my mind, nor will " He doesn't even know I'm here," Stephen Lefevre said quietly.

"I'm not here on his behalf, I a.s.sure you." She stared, wondering whether or not to believe him.

"Then what do you want?" she demanded.

"Ellis doesn't usually confide in me," he said.

"But last night, he did tell me how you came to lose your job. He feels responsible " He was responsible! " she angrily interrupted, then said quickly, " Nevertheless, I don't want anything from him, so if you've come with another of his insulting suggestions "I told you, he doesn't even know I'm here. This was all my idea, and it may be crazy, it may not work out, but somehow just from the look of you I felt maybe it could " What are you talking about? " Claudia impatiently asked.

"I don't know if Ellis ever mentioned our father," Stephen said, startling her.

She shook her head.

"I really barely know your brother; I know nothing whatever about your family."

"Well, our father has been progressively going blind for several years, and he hasn't found it very easy to cope with... He's resentful and touchy, and... well, frankly, he has become d.a.m.ned difficult to live with. He's living just outside London, in a house on the 66 Thames. He's writing a book, which means he has to have a secretary, but he can't keep one. They won't put up with his rages. He can be terrifying when he's angry." Stephen looked pleadingly at her.

"Of course, you may not feel you can even contemplate the idea, but... do you think you could meet him, just to see if you could face working for him?"

CHAPTER FOUR.

"IT COULD be another tricky move by Big Brother," Annette warned Claudia half an hour later.

"I know, but somehow I believed Stephen. He has honest eyes, and he's the worrying type; I'm sure he wouldn't be able to lie very well. If you had heard him, you would have believed him, Annette--there's no doubt that he's very worried about his father. He's very fond of him, but a little frightened of him, too. He said his father was very like Ellis: obstinate and hot-tempered, very difficult to deal with, especially when he was ill or upset--and... Oh, I could just imagine the old man, and I felt very sorry for him."

"Hmm," said Annette, frowning.

"Sure this Stephen wasn't just playing on your feelings?"

"I don't think so. Anyway, where's the harm in agreeing to meet the old man?

He may hate me, he may throw me out before I've even shaken hands with him.

parently he's quite unpredictable at the moment.

He needs help, but he hates anyone knowing he needs it. He's proud and touchy, and if someone shows any sort of pity for him he sacks them on the spot. Stephen says he is at his wit's end to know what to do for his father.

" "Why is it Stephen dealing with this? Didn't you say he was the younger brother? Why isn't Ellis getting his father a secretary?"

"Well, that's it," said Claudia drily.

"Apparently, Ellis is one of the people his father has quarrelled with--he told Ellis to get out of his house and stay 67 68 out, or he would set his dogs on him. There are three of them, Stephen says, Alsatians that sound more like wolves--they would tear someone limb from limb if the old man gave the order, and Ellis hasn't dared go back since."

Annette grimaced.

"I don't like the sound of the dogs much, do you? I mean, they might tear you limb from limb if the old man told them to!"

Claudia pulled a wry face.

"Well, I'm not crazy about the thought of them, no. I'll see how I feel when I go there tomorrow with Stephen.: If I'm not back by the time you start serving dinner, call the police!"

"That isn't funny!" Annette said grimly.

"Remember last time you had an appointment with a Lefevre! You got yourself locked in that suite all night rand I'm still not sure you've told us the whole truth about what happened in there!"

Claudia went pink and scowled.

"Look, I tell you whattwhen Stephen comes, you can meet him and see what you think of him!"

Stephen arrived next day promptly at eleven-thirty, having asked her to have lunch with him on the way to meet his father. He shyly shook hands with Annette and Pierre and made a polite remark about having very much enjoyed the meal he had eaten in the restaurant the other night.

Pierre took on that air of ineffable satisfaction which a good French cook feels about his food.

"Ah, yes? Thank you." He waited happily for further compliments, but his wife changed the subject.

"Do you work for your brother's corporation?" she asked, and, turning to smile at her, Stephen nodded.

"In a way. I have been working over here in the UK for a year now, though, on some research work, at Cambridge. I have been given two years off by the 09 corporation, to allow me to do this research, and after that I'll be going back to work in Switzerland."

"You and your brother speak perfect English," said Annette.

"Are you Swiss or..." " Claudia was embarra.s.sed by all these searching questions. What on earth must Stephen think of them, being so curious? If he resented the questions, however, he didn't show it. He just nodded, still smiling.

"We are Swiss, yes! We were both born there. Our mother was born in Scotland, thought and our father spent several years at Cambridge, doing postgraduate work, after taking his degree in Geneva. He was a scientist, too. Our parents wanted us to speciali se in languages so we had special tutors as soon as we could read and write. The corporation is multinational, and we need to be able to talk to our various national companies."

"Now that we will soon have a united Europe, we all need to talk to each other," said Pierre.

"But, of course, in Switzerland, you speak French, German and Italian, anyway, so you have an advantage over the rest of us."

Stephen laughed.

"It helps, I suppose!"

"Now, the English have never been good at languages!" Pierre said, turning his attention to the old enemy, one eye mischievously on his wife.

"Too lazy. They have always expected other people to learn English."

"Not any more! We're learning languages fast now," said Annette, bristling.

"If we're talking about people being chauvinistic, what about the French?