Just as she was combing her hair in front of the mirror, Cory walked in without knocking.
‘You’re mad to go off with Simon,’ he said harshly, speaking directly to her haggard reflection. ‘He’s a spoilt, corrupt little boy with no guts and no backbone. He’s ditched you once, he’ll ditch you again.’
Harriet put her head in her hands.
‘Don’t bully me,’ she said in real anguish. ‘I’m in such a muddle.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a much gentler voice, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘But just because he’s William’s father, you mustn’t feel you ought to marry him.’
For a second, Harriet leant against him, then she stood up.
‘I’ve got to talk to Simon, and try to sort out what I feel.’
For a minute they stared at each other. Then he buttoned her coat up as if she was a little girl.
‘Be careful,’ he said.
Later, she remembered being impressed by the cool way Simon had written Mr and Mrs Villiers in the hotel visitors’ book, as though he’d done it a hundred times before. He’d booked them into a luxury three-room suite.
He was at his most winning too, remorseful at his previous conduct, gazing into her eyes, telling her how beautiful she had become, beguiling her with bitchy stories about film stars he had met, speaking of his future with her and William. All perfect; yet Harriet had the feeling she’d got onto the wrong bus and was desperately hurtling in a direction she didn’t want to go.
He had changed too. He had all the sheen and glitter of the star now. When he talked to her, she felt he was playing to an audience.
‘I want to know everything that’s happened to you since we split up,’ he said.
But when she started telling him, despite the intent look on his face, she knew his thoughts were miles away, so she changed the subject. ‘It’s wonderful you’ve done so well, Simon.’
He spread his hands out. ‘Just luck, really. I had mild success with a couple of television plays I did, and I made this film abroad; just a small part, but everyone’s raving about the rushes. And in May I’m going to make a film with Noel, with a really meaty part in it. She’s been terribly kind.’
Harriet wondered what form Noel’s kindness had taken.
‘You haven’t been having an affair with her?’ she asked idly.
‘Darling! Be reasonable. She’s old enough to be my mother.’
‘She could hardly be your mother when she was ten.’
‘I wouldn’t even put that past her! Anyway, I don’t go for these busty, earth mother types — I like my women slim. You’ve got the most gorgeous figure since you lost all that weight.’
Harriet smiled, but she found her thoughts wandering back to Cory and how he and Noel were getting on at this moment, and then she realized it hadn’t been the shock of seeing Simon that had made her cut her hand, it must have been the sharp, ignored pain that shot through her when she thought Cory’s horse had fallen in the race.
Simon was still talking about his new film. Concentrate on his beauty, she kept telling herself. He’s far better looking than Cory. The champagne was beginning to make her feel sick.
He got to his feet and came towards her with that sudden seductive smile that he could use as a weapon or a caress. The brilliant blue-green eyes wandered over her body — hard eyes now, endlessly craving distraction. She felt mesmerized like a small bird before a snake.
‘Darling,’ he murmured. ‘It’s stupid to try and communicate with words. Let’s go to bed.’
And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, but it wasn’t the same as before — no turning of the entrails, no weakness at the knees, no black turgid drowning tide of passion.
For a minute she remembered the evening when Cory had kissed her, and she shivered as she re-lived the swooning, helpless ecstasy.
‘No,’ she cried wriggling away. ‘I don’t want to now. You must give me more time.’
Simon’s face darkened. ‘What’s the matter? Gone off me since the old days?’
‘I don’t feel well,’ she whispered. ‘Would you mind if I lay down for a few minutes?’
Now he was all contrition. ‘Darling, why didn’t you tell me?’
Later she was lying in the dark, her head thrashing from side to side in an agony of indecision, when the telephone rang. She heard Simon lift the receiver. Then there was a pause as he shut the bedroom door.
In some blind hope that it might be Cory ringing, she picked up the extension by her bed. Then she stiffened as she heard Noel’s voice: ‘How’s it all going, precious?’
Then Simon’s voice, petulant. ‘All right, but she’s not going to be the pushover you predicted.’
‘Well, you’ve got plenty of time. If you can’t have her eating out of your hands in twenty-four hours, you’re not the man you were last night.’
Simon laughed and growled wolfishly. ‘Good, wasn’t it? But then it’s always good with you. You — er — spur me on to greater endeavour.’
‘Well, close your eyes and pretend it’s me.’
‘God that it was! I do miss you, darling. You won’t get so hooked on Cory again so that you’ll forget me, will you?’
‘Darling,’ Noel’s deep voice was like a sedative. ‘I wouldn’t have angled you that part so I could spend all that time with you this summer, if I hadn’t been a tiny bit smitten, now would I?’
‘I suppose not.’
‘What do you think of your son and heir?’
‘Oh, pretty horrific. But then I’m not mad about babies. I thought you said he looked just like me.’
Noel started to laugh. Harriet put down the receiver and went into the bathroom and was violently sick. Then she stood trembling, leaning against the bathroom door, icy cold and sweating, wondering what the hell to do next.
She washed her face and went into the sitting room. Simon was lounging across the armchair.
‘Hello, beauty,’ he said amiably. ‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘I’ve been listening in on the extension. I heard all your conversation with Noel.’
Simon sighed. ‘Oh dear, you shouldn’t have done that. Surely you know by now that eavesdroppers never. .?’
‘Simon,’ she interrupted furiously. ‘Stop it! Stop it! Why can’t you be serious for once? How long have you been in love with Noel?’
‘I’m not in love with her.’
‘Well, how many times have you slept with her?’
‘Once, twice. What the hell does it matter? I don’t love her. It’s you I love.’
‘You couldn’t love me, the way you were talking to her.’
‘Oh, darling, haven’t you heard the expression “sleeping your way to the top”? Well, I want that film part, and if it means chatting up an old prima-donna like Noel that’s OK by me.’
Harriet stared at him appalled.
‘And you were prepared to try and make a go of it with me, while still carrying on an affair with Noel? I don’t understand you, Simon.’
He looked at her for a minute, mocking, his head on one side, his hands in his pockets.
‘Well, then, I can’t help you, can I?’
Then he started to laugh. ‘Oh come on, darling, see the funny side of it.’
Harriet shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s funny. I want to go home.’
It was a clear night, the stars shone electrically blue, the moon came over the crags and reflected milkily in the river. As he drove, Simon turned to look at Harriet.
‘You’re making a mistake going back, darling. Noel fights very dirty — and, however much Cory likes you as a plaything, he’ll kick you out the moment she wants it.’
When they arrived at the house, Harriet let herself in and met Noel coming out of the drawing room.
‘Hullo, darlings,’ she said. ‘Had a lovers’ tiff already?’