The Baby Gambit Part 14

'Before they get back from Giles's parents', eh?'

'Well, that was the funniest thing!' exclaimed Mrs Horton before she could get out of the room, and Grace was forced to pause by the door to hear the latest gossip. 'The firm have decided not to bring any charges. Against Giles, I mean, of course. It took us all by surprise when the letter arrived. You can imagine what Giles thought when he saw the company logo on the envelope.'

'I bet.' Grace frowned. 'Did they say why?'

Mrs Horton said, 'I can't remember the exact wording, but it was something to the effect that as all monies had been recovered there'd be no further action taken.'

'All monies recovered?' echoed Grace blankly. 'What does that mean? He didn't take the money in the first place?'

'No. That's not in question.' Her mother regarded her with mild impatience. 'It appears that someone has paid the money back.'

'Who? Giles?'

'No. How could he?' Mrs Horton pulled a face. 'He's got no money, has he? Well, not enough to pay back what he owed anyway.'

Grace frowned. 'So what are you saying? That you've paid it off for him?'

'No!' Mrs Horton clicked her tongue. 'Weren't you lis tening to me? Didn't I say it was totally unexpected? For all of us.'

Grace shook her head, and, leaving her mother to marvel anew at her son-in-law's good fortune, she went into the kitchen and plugged in the electric kettle. Well, she thought ruefully, at least it would make things easier for Pauline and the children.

And maybe for Giles, too, when he tried to get another job. At least he wouldn't have the handicap of a possible conviction hanging over his head.

It was towards the end of the following week when Grace had an unexpected visitor at the museum.

She was in the bas.e.m.e.nt, unpacking a box of ceramics which had just arrived from their warehouse in Purfleet, when Mr Seton himself came to tell her there was someone asking to see her in Reception.

Grace had been kneeling on the floor, but now she got to her feet, dusting off her hands as she pondered the fact that the curator should have chosen to deliver the message personally.

For a heart-stopping moment, she wondered if Matteo was in London and had decided to pay her a call, which might account for Mr Seton's involvement, but her boss soon disabused her of that notion.

'You might tell Miss Calloway that I do not approve of personal visitors during opening hours,' he stated brusquely as Grace hurriedly rinsed her hands at the sink. 'And par ticularly not when they're-' his lips showed his distaste '-intoxicated!'

But Grace had heard nothing beyond the words 'Miss Calloway'. 'Julia,' she breathed incredulously. Julia was her visitor! She could hardly believe it.

'You will tell her, won't you?' Mr Seton called after her as she preceded him out of the bas.e.m.e.nt, but once again Grace wasn't listening to him. Julia? she said to herself again. Miss Calloway?

Surely she should have been Signora di Falco by now.

She fairly ran up the stairs, only coming to a halt a cou ple of steps from the top when she realised she hadn't both ered to check if her hair was tidy and her face was clean. Wetting the tips of her fingers, she smoothed a few errant strands of hair behind her ears and then continued more sedately into the foyer. Julia wouldn't care what she looked like, anyway, she a.s.sured herself.

She only hoped she hadn't come to make a scene.

The museum comprised several exhibition halls on three floors, with the reception area to the right of the entrance. The steps from the bas.e.m.e.nt emerged immediately outside the reception hall, but Grace could hear Julia long before she pushed through the heavy gla.s.s doors. Her friend was harangueing the receptionist in a loud, demanding voice and suddenly Grace understood why Mr Seton had been so tetchy. Dear G.o.d, was Julia drunk, or was she just spoiling for a fight?

'I'm telling you, Grace will be very happy to see me,' she was proclaiming angrily as Grace pushed through the door. 'I don't care if she is working. I've come all the way from Italy to see her.'

'And here I am,' said Grace quietly, attracting the other woman's attention. 'I'm sorry about this, Sally,' she added to the young girl behind the desk. 'I came as quickly as I could.'

Julia swung round on heels that Grace was sure she wouldn't even be able to stand in, let alone walk in, and surveyed the new arrival with a jaundiced eye. 'Yes, there you are,' she said, swaying back against the desk for sup port. 'At last. I was beginning to think they'd buried you among all the other old artifacts.'

'And h.e.l.lo to you, too,' said Grace drily, noting the un- mistakable cut of the designer suit her friend was wearing with an unwelcome hollowness in her stomach. Evidently Julia hadn't wasted any time in spending Matteo's money.

Julia's eyes glazed over for a moment, and Grace was very much afraid she was going to pa.s.s out. But then she seemed to pull herself together, and, leaving the security of the desk, she started across the floor.

'Come on,' she said, slinging an arm around Grace's waist, as much for support as in affection. 'Let's get out of this c.r.a.ppy place. I saw a little bar round the corner. I'll buy you some champagne, just for old times' sake.'

'I can't, Julia.' Grace allowed the other woman to hang onto her, but she made no move towards the door. 'It's only half-past two, and I don't finish till six, at the earliest. You can go back to my apartment and wait, if you want.'

'Your apartment?' Julia wrinkled her nose. 'Where is it?

Somewhere around here?'

'It's in St John's Wood, actually,' said Grace reluctantly, 'but you could take a taxi.'

Julia shook her head, and then swayed when she almost lost her balance. 'I don't want to wait in your apartment,' she protested shrilly. 'I've got a suite at the Dorchester. Why don't we go there?'

'I've told you, I can't.'

'Why not? Why not?'

'You know why not,' began Grace uneasily, aware that a visitor could arrive at any moment and find her holding up an apparently drunken woman, which would not be good for the museum's reputation.

And. as if on cue. the door opened behind her. But it wasn't a visitor; it was Mr Seton. He took in the scene in a moment, and although Grace was sure she'd hear about it later he came to an immediate decision.

'Perhaps it would be as well if you escorted Miss Calloway home, Grace,' he declared, with a disparaging glance at her companion. 'We can't have-well, I think you know what I'm talking about.'

'I do, too,' put in Julia aggressively, lunging towards the curator and poking his chest with a rigid finger. 'Don't you patronise me, old man. I can buy and sell this place a dozen times over!'

'Julia-'

'I'm sure you could.' Mr Seton was not impressed, how ever.

'Grace! Can I leave this to you?'

'Yes, Mr Seton-'

'Yes, Mr Seton,' Julia mimicked her in a babyish voice. 'No, Mr Seton. Three bags full, Mr Seton-'

'Julia, for goodness' sake-'

Grace couldn't wait to get her out of there, and after s.n.a.t.c.hing her bag and jacket from the cloakroom at the back of the reception area she ushered her friend outside.

The air, muggy though it was, seemed to knock Julia for six, and it was left to Grace to support her friend and sum mon a pa.s.sing cab.

'She's not going to be sick, is she?' the taxi driver asked suspiciously, eyeing Julia's pale face with a wary eye, and although Grace a.s.sured him that there was no fear of that she couldn't help crossing her fingers as she did so.

'Could you take us to the Dorchester Hotel?' she asked, deciding Julia was in no state to go anywhere else. She only hoped and prayed that Matteo wasn't sharing the suite with her.

She didn't know what she'd do if she had to deal with him, too.

The receptionist at the Dorchester remembered Miss Calloway very well. In no time at all, a lift had whisked them up to Julia's suite on the sixth floor, and Grace breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind them.

'G.o.d, I need the loo!' exclaimed Julia at once, disap pearing into the bathroom, and Grace walked across to the windows and looked out on a rain-wet Park Lane. Where was Matteo? she wondered, not without some anguish. Did he have any idea how Julia was abusing her body? Abusing their unborn child?

'Haven't you helped yourself to a drink?'

Julia appeared in the doorway behind her, and Grace noticed she'd kicked off the teetering heels. She'd also shed the jacket of her suit to reveal a sleeveless silk sh.e.l.l and a magnificent diamond bracelet watch on her wrist.

'I'm not thirsty,' Grace said now. 'I really ought to be getting back to the museum-'

'Oh, not yet.' Julia sauntered over to the impressive wet bar and helped herself to a generous gin and tonic. Then, turning, she raised the gla.s.s to her lips. 'I bet you were surprised to see me.'

The understatement of the year, thought Grace wryly, trying to keep her mind focussed on Julia and not on the father of the child she was carrying. 'As you say,' she mur mured.

Then, almost compulsively, she asked, 'Is it wise to drink so much?'

'Why not?' Julia leaned back against the bar and re garded her consideringly. 'Perhaps I need it to control the urge I have to tear your eyes out.'

'Julia-'

'Yes?'

Grace sighed and shook her head. '1 just-well, you know how sorry I am.'

'For what?' Julia arched mocking brows. 'For making love with the man I wanted to marry, even when you thought- knew-even when you knew I was expecting his baby?'

'We didn't-' Grace broke off, her shoulders sagging. She knew Julia would never believe they hadn't actually done 'it' so there was no point in trying to defend herself. 'T suppose so, yes.'

'You b.i.t.c.h!'

Grace drew a steadying breath. 'Is that what you came to say?'

'Part of it.' Julia took a generous gulp of her G and T before continuing. 'So tell me about it: how was it for you?'

Grace bent her head. 'I'd rather not discuss it!'

'I'll bet.' Julia was scornful. 'But all the same I think we should compare notes. I mean, we've got so much in common, haven't we?'

'Oh, Julia-'

'What? What?' Julia's lips curled. 'Don't give me any guff about us being such good friends. Friends don't do the dirty on one another. Friends don't pretend to be sympa thetic on the one hand and jerk you off on the other.'

'I wasn't!'

'Weren't you?'

'No.' Grace spread her hands. 'You have to believe me, I never wanted to hurt you.'

'Yeah, right.' Julia swallowed another mouthful from her gla.s.s, and then wiped her wrist across her mouth, smearing her lipstick.

'No wonder I need this. You almost ruined my life.'

Grace seized on her last words. 'Only almost,' she pro tested.

'You've still got Matteo, haven't you?'

Julia's eyes narrowed. 'Oh, yes,' she said, after a few moments.

She sneered. 'I'd forgotten about that.'

Grace didn't know how anyone could forget that they were going to be married, but perhaps it wasn't so surpris ing in Julia's present condition. 'So,' she said, trying to speak normally, 'where is he?' She spoke past the constric tion in her throat. 'Is he in London, too?'

Julia snorted. 'Wouldn't you like to know?'

'Not particularly.' Grace was weary. 'I was just being polite.'

'Oh, polite, right.' Julia sounded sardonic. 'Always the diplomat, eh, Grace?' She finished her drink, and weighed the heavy gla.s.s in her hand. Then, dropping it carelessly onto the tray, she came towards the other woman, holding out her arm.

'What do you think of that?' she asked, in dicating the watch.

'How much do you think I paid for it?'

Grace, who had had to resist the urge to back away from her, shook her head. 'I've no idea.'

'Look at it.' Julia thrust her wrist beneath Grace's nose. 'Come on; you're supposed to know about these things.'

'Not jewellery,' said Grace, wishing she'd just put Julia in a cab and let her make her own way home. 'I'm sure it was expensive.'

'You'd better believe it.' Julia examined the watch her self with jealous eyes. 'I doubt if a year's salary at that pitiful place where you work would cover it.'

'Maybe not.' Grace was trying to remain calm. 'Look- I really should be going.'

Julia's face hardened. 'It doesn't bother you, does it? You don't care about things like this.' Her chin jutted. 'You're so smug, aren't you?'

Grace's shoulders sagged. 'If you say so.'

That's what I mean,' muttered Julia, thrusting her face close to Grace's now. 'Anyone else-anyone with red blood in their veins-would show a little emotion here. But not you!

G.o.ddammit, Grace, I know you're in love with him! You forget: we've known one another for a long time, and I know you.' She poked Grace in the chest as she had poked Mr Seton earlier.

'Come on, come on; admit it, d.a.m.n you! You're jealous as h.e.l.l that I got there first.'

Grace pushed her hand away. 'That's not true-'

'Of course it's true.' Julia was contemptuous. 'I bet it fairly burns you up, imagining us together-in bed!'

'For G.o.d's sake, Julia!' At last, the other woman had caught her on the raw, and Grace had had enough. 'Look- all right.