Nick sat up abruptly, his eyes on her face. Sam told me about that time, he said with caution.
So why the hell do you keep on then? She turned on him. Call up your brother and ask him all about it. Samuel Franklyn, MD, DPM, et cetera! He will spell it out for you.
Jo, Sam will be in London next week. Just hold on till then. Promise me. Once hes seen you-
Seen me? she echoed. For Gods sake, Nick. Whats the matter with you? I need to see your brother about as much as I need you at the moment, and that is not a lot!
Jo, its important, he said desperately. There is something you dont know. Something you dont remember-
What do you mean, I dont remember? I remember every bit of that session in Edinburgh. Better than Sam does obviously. Oh, Im sure he doesnt want me to investigate the subject of regression. Its one of his pet theories, isnt it, and he doesnt want me to debunk it in the press. That wouldnt suit him at all! If your brother wants to see me, let him come and see me. Ill deal with him myself. You and I have nothing else to say to each other. Nothing!
Then Id best leave, said Nick. Jo closed the door behind him.
That same evening Pete Leveson called with the name of the hypnotherapist: Carl Bennet. Devonshire Place. Jo scribbled it down on the notepad on her desk. She stared at it thoughtfully for a while after she had hung up the phone, then she tore off the page and put it on top of her typewriter.
The night of the party the huge photography studio was already full of people when Jo and Pete arrived. They paused for a moment on the threshold to survey the crowd, the women colorfully glittering, the men in shirt sleeves, the noise already crescendoing wildly to drown the plaintive whine of a lone violin somewhere in the street below.
Someone pressed glasses of champagne into their hands.
Jo saw Nick almost at once, standing in front of Tims photos, studying them. She recognized the set of his shoulders, the angle of his head. So he was angry. She wondered briefly who with, this time.
You look wistful, Jo. Tim Heachams voice came from immediately behind her. And it does not suit you.
She turned to face him. Wistful? Never. Happy birthday, Tim. Im afraid I havent brought you a present.
Who has? He laughed. But Ive got one for you. Judys not here.
Should I care? She noticed suddenly that Pete was at the other end of the room.
I dont think you should. He took the glass from her hand, sipped from it, and gave it back. You and Nick are bad news for each other at the moment, Jo. You told me so yourself.
And I havent changed my mind.
Nor about tomorrow, I hope?
Tomorrow?
Our visit to Bill Walton. Hes going to arrange something special for us. Were going to see Cleopatra and her Antony! I find it all just the smallest bit weird.
She laughed. I hope you wont be disappointed this time, Tim. Itll only be as good as the imagination of the people there, you know.
He held up his hand in mock horror. No. No, youre not to spoil it for me. I believe.
Jo? The quiet voice behind her made her jump, slopping her champagne onto the floor. Jo, I want to talk to you.
She spun around and found that Nick was standing behind them. Quickly she slipped her arm through Tims. Nick. I didnt expect to see you. Did you bring Judy? Or Sam? Perhaps Sam is here ready to psych me out. Is he? Rudely she turned her back on him.
Tim, will you dance with me? She dragged her surprised host away, leaving Nick standing by himself looking after her.
Jo, love, youre shaking. Tim put his arm around her and pulled her against him. Come on. Its not like you to show your claws like that. Lets get another drink-most of yours went on the floor, and the rest is down my neck. He took her hand firmly. Then he made a rueful face. Youre in love with Nick, you know, Jo. The real thing.
She laughed. No. No, Tim, you dear old-fashioned thing. Im not in love with anyone. Im fancy free and fully available. But you are right about one thing, I need another drink.
There was no way she would ever admit to herself or to anyone else that she loved Nick.
Behind her Tim glanced toward the door. He frowned. Judy Curzon stood there, dressed in a floor-length white dress embroidered with tiny flame and amber colored beads, her red hair brushed close to her head like a shining cap. Her huge eyes were fixed on Nicks face.
Tim shook his head slowly, then firmly he guided Jo into the most crowded part of the room.
It was the following evening.
Why did you do it, Judy? Nick pushed open the door of the studio and slammed it against the wall.
She was standing in front of the easel, once more dressed in her shirt and jeans, a brush in her hand. She did not turn around.
You know why. How come its taken you nineteen hours to come and ask?
Because, Judy, I have been at work today, and because I wasnt sure if I was going to come here ever again. I didnt realize you were such a bitch.
Born and bred. She gave him a cold smile. So now you know. I suppose you hate me.
Her face crumpled suddenly and she flung down the brush. Oh, Nick, Im so miserable.
And so you should be. Telling Jo in front of all those people what Sam and I had talked about in confidence. Telling her at all was spiteful, but to do it like that, at a party-that was really vicious.
She didnt turn a hair, Nick. Shes so confident, so conceited. And she didnt believe it anyway. No one did. They all thought it was just me being bitchy.
She put her arms around his neck and nuzzled him. Dont be angry. Please.
He disengaged himself. I am angry. Very angry indeed.
And I suppose you followed her last night? Her voice was trembling slightly.
No. She told me to go to hell, as you well know. He turned away from her, taking off his jacket and throwing it down on a chair. Is there anything to drink?
You know damn well there is. She retrieved her paintbrush angrily and went back to her painting. And get me one.
He glared at her. The perfect hostess as ever.
Better than Jo anyway! she flashed back. She jabbed at the painting with a palette knife, laying on a thick impasto of vermilion.
Leave Jo alone, Judy, Nick said quietly. Im not going to tell you again. You are beginning to bore me.
There was a long silence. Defiantly she laid on some more paint.
Nick sighed. He turned and went into the kitchen. There was wine in the refrigerator. He took it out and found two glasses. He had not told Judy the truth. Last night, at midnight, he had gone to Cornwall Gardens and, finding Jos apartment in darkness, had cautiously let himself in. He had listened, then, realizing that there was still a light on in the kitchen, he had quietly pushed open the door. The room had been empty, the draining board piled high with clean, rinsed dishes, the sink spotless, the lids on all the jars, and the bread in the bin, when he had looked, new and crusty.
What are you doing here? Jo had appeared behind him silently, wearing a white bathrobe.
He had slammed down the lid of the bread bin. Jo, I had to talk to you-
No, Nick, there is nothing to talk about. She had not smiled.
Staring at her, he had realized suddenly that he wanted to take her in his arms. Oh, Jo, love. Im sorry-
So am I, Nick. Very. Is it true what Judy said? Am I likely to go crazy?
Thats not what she said, Jo.
Is that what Sam said?
No, and you know it isnt. All he said was that you should be very careful. He had kept his voice deliberately light.
How come Judy knows so much about it? Did you discuss it with her?
Of course I didnt. She listened to a private phone call. She had no business to. And she didnt hear very much, I promise. She made a lot of it up.
But you had no business to make that call, Nick. Suddenly she had been blazingly angry with him. Christ! I wish you would keep out of my affairs. I dont want you to meddle. I dont want your brother to meddle! I dont want anything to do with either of the Franklyns ever again. Now, get out!
No, Jo. Not till I know youre all right.
Im all right. Now, get out. Her voice had been shaking. Get out, get out, get out !
Jo, for Gods sake be quiet. Nick had backed away from her as her voice rose. Im going. But please promise me something-
Get out!
He had gone.
Nick took a couple of gulps from his glass and topped it up again before going back into the studio.
Pete Leveson was standing next to Judy, staring at the canvas.
Nick groaned as Pete raised a hand. I thought Id find you here. Has anyone told you yet that you are five kinds of shit?
Nick handed him one of the glasses. You cant call me anything I havent called myself already, he said dryly.
Judy whirled around. All right, you guys. Stop being so bloody patronizing. Im the one who said it all, Im the one who told her, not Nick. If youve come here to reproach anyone, it should be me, not him. She put her hands on her hips defiantly.
Nick handed him one of the glasses. You cant call me anything I havent called myself already, he said dryly.
Judy whirled around. All right, you guys. Stop being so bloody patronizing. Im the one who said it all, Im the one who told her, not Nick. If youve come here to reproach anyone, it should be me, not him. She put her hands on her hips defiantly.
Pete gave a small grin. Right. It was you.
Was Jo very upset later? she was unable to resist asking after a moment.
A little. Of course she was. She didnt believe anything you said, but you chose a pretty public place to make some very provocative statements.
No one heard them-
Judy. Pete gave her a withering look. You were heard by virtually every person in that party, including Nigel Dempster. Ive been on the phone to him, but unfortunately he feels it was too juicy a tidbit to miss his column. After all, hes got a job to do, much like mine when you think about it. Well-known columnist accused of being a nut case by redheaded painter at Heacham party How could he resist a story like that? And he was there in person! Itll be in Fridays Mail .
Hell! Nick hit his forehead with the flat of his hand. Theyll crucify Jo. Shes trodden on too many toes in her time.
Shell be okay, Judy broke in. Shes tough.