Bella put the receiver down and rang Lazlo’s office where she was told Lazlo was in a meeting, but who should they say called. Again the same urgency. Bella rang off.
Suddenly, the fact that Lazlo was somewhere in London was too much for her. I’m going to rout him out, she said to herself.
In the taxi she tried to tidy herself up a bit. Her dress was still soaking wet from the rain, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glittering. She managed to put eye-shadow on one eye, then got bored and gave up, and emptied the remains of a bottle of scent over herself. She kept rehearsing what she was going to say to him.
Now look here. . it began.
The taxi got lost three times, but finally drew up outside a vast, tall grey building. Over a sea of bowler hats, Bella read the letters: Henriques Bros.
‘Eureka,’ she shouted, falling out into the street, and belting through the front door into the building.
The beautiful red-headed receptionist looked at her in fascinated horror.
‘Have you come to collect something?’ she said slowly.
‘Only Lazlo Henriques,’ said Bella, tugging her rain sodden skirt down over her bottom.
‘Have you got an appointment?’
‘No, but it’s terribly important I see him,’ said Bella, trying to keep the mounting despair out of her voice.
The receptionist caught her first fumes of gin, her cold blue eyes flickered over Bella’s stomach.
‘Oh gosh, I’m not pregnant,’ she gasped. ‘Not a bit, in fact, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
A man in a commissionaire’s uniform came out of the lift. The receptionist beckoned to him.
‘This — er — person insists on seeing Mr Lazlo.’
The commissionaire looked at Bella, then started.
‘My goodness, it’s Miss Parkinson isn’t it?’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Bella. ‘I must see him, you can’t throw me out.’ Her voice was rising hysterically.
Suddenly a nearby door opened and a red-faced man came out.
‘Can’t you stop this damned row, Heywood?’ he said.
‘Sir, it’s Miss Parkinson,’ said the commissionaire.
Bella staggered towards the red-faced man. Suddenly, her self-control snapped. ‘Please, oh please,’ she sobbed, ‘I must see Lazlo. You’ve got to help me.’
Then, over his shoulder, through the haze of cigarette smoke, she looked into a room and saw a long, polished table, and her eyes travelled down two rows of flushed distinguished looking faces, to the man lounging at the end, whose face was as white as theirs were pink. Her heart lurched into her mouth. It was Lazlo.
‘Bella,’ he roared, getting to his feet and striding down the room. ‘Where the bloody hell have you been? I’ve got half London looking for you.’
‘I went to Yorkshire, but it was raining, so I came back again.’
She was beginning to feel very peculiar. Lazlo caught her as she swayed.
‘You’re drunk,’ he said accusingly.
‘Horribly, horribly drunk, and horribly, horribly in love with you,’ she mumbled and passed out cold in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-six
The first thing that hit her eyes when she woke up was brilliant scarlet wallpaper. She winced, shut her eyes and opened them again quickly and took in the row of ivory hair brushes, the photographs of racehorses on the dressing table and the rows and rows of suits in the wardrobe. No-one else in the world had as many suits as that. She was back in Lazlo’s old flat.
She levered herself out of bed and stood on a fur rug, feeling sick. She was wearing a pair of black pyjamas that were far too large for her. She stumbled into the drawing-room. Lazlo was sitting in an armchair watching racing on television and drinking champagne. He looked up and smiled.
‘I feel dreadful,’ she said, cringing with embarrassment.
He got up and turned down the television sound and poured her a Fernet Branca.
‘Ugh — I couldn’t drink anything,’ she said.
‘Shut up and drink it.’
Grumbling she obeyed.
‘I’m going to clean my teeth,’ she muttered and shot into the bathroom.
As the pounding in her head began to subside, she started to piece the events of the previous day together. She went back into the drawing-room.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a small voice.
‘What about?’
‘Barging into your office like that. Did I do anything awful?’
‘You declared passionate love to me in front of my entire board of directors, and then passed out like a light.’
‘Oh God! Were they very shocked?’
‘Riveted I should think. There hasn’t been anything half so exciting since decimalization.’
‘W-what happened then?’
‘Oh, I brought you back here.’
‘What time is it?’ she muttered.
‘Nearly ten past three. I was just about to watch the three-fifteen.’
‘I’m sorry about being in your bed. . and things. What happened to my clothes? I mean did we. .’ she blushed scarlet. ‘Er — did we?’
‘No we didn’t. You were dead to the world and I’ve never been keen on necrophilia.’
He was laughing at her now.
‘I can’t help it,’ she said sulkily, scuffing the carpet with her feet. ‘I didn’t mean to behave badly or fall in love with you. It wasn’t on the agenda at all. Particularly when you’re probably aching to be rid of me, and rush off to Paris on some loathsome, dirty weekend with Angora. All my love and anticipation indeed — the foxy cow.’
Lazlo laughed. ‘Bella, darling,’ he said. ‘You should learn not to open other people’s letters. That was Angora’s letter to me, not mine to her.’
Then he got to his feet, crossed the room and took her in his arms. Then he bent his head and kissed her very gently. His mouth tasted cool, and faintly of champagne, and halfway through, Bella joined in and kissed him back and the whole thing became extremely ungentle.
Then he said, ‘Now, do you still think I’m aching to be in Paris with Angora?’
Bella said she didn’t and he kissed her again.
Then he sat down on the sofa and pulled her on to his knee and said: ‘Christ, I’ve been wanting to do that since the night we played murder.’
‘Why didn’t you, then?’
‘I couldn’t. I was in one hell of a position. I’d played you a rotten trick, quite deliberately setting out to seduce you by pretending I was Steve. I knew you loathed my guts, I couldn’t just move in. One false move would have sent you scuttling back to Steve. But suddenly the biter was well and truly bit. I had to go on seeing you, not because I wanted to take you away from Rupert, but because I simply couldn’t keep away.’
‘But after Chrissie was kidnapped, you didn’t come near me, didn’t even ring me up.’
‘That was different. Once Juan knew I was hooked on you, I was scared stiff he’d grab you too, as he did in the end. That’s why I kept my distance, but I kept tabs on you. You were being followed all the time. Unfortunately, the night they picked you up, the man trailing you had nipped into a café to get some cigarettes. By the time he’d caught up, it was too late. All he saw was you being bundled into a car and driven off. He didn’t even get the number plate.
‘Jesus, darling, if you knew what I went through those five days when I didn’t know where you were. I was so terrified they’d kill you before I had a chance to tell you I loved you. It became an absolute obsession to tell you. I was worried stiff about Chrissie, but the thought of losing you was what was really crucifying me.’
‘I was the same,’ said Bella. ‘The whole time I was in there I thought about you. It was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept dreaming what would happen if I got out and by some miracle we ever did get together. I rehearsed coming out so often, and what I was going to say to you.’