'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 envelope 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!'