"Mon fil$..." Ellis crossed the room in a rapid stride, bent and kissed his father on both cheeks, Gallic style.

"Papa! How are you? You look much better than you did the last time I saw you."

Claudia freed herself and stood up, hurriedly moving away, back to her seat on the other side of the breakfast table. She found it disturbing to be too close to Ellis.

Quentin had more colour again; his face had relaxed into easier lines.

"Ah," he said cheerfully, "That is due to this girl here... my right hand! I don't know what I'd do without her, she's the first secretary I've had who had any brains or common sense. All her predecessors were vacuous, pin-brained females, who just agreed with everything I said, and cried if I so much as raised my voice to them.

She's different, as you just saw. " He grinned, his blind eyes turned across the table to where she sat.

"She has a temper, and she says what she thinks. We argue like cat and dog, sometimes, but she has made it easier for me to get up in the mornings. I used to dread the day ahead, at one time, but not any more."

Ellis was watching his father's face, his own taut and shaken. She knew his father so well now that it helped her to read Ellis's expressions, and she realised that it was a shock to him to realise how low Quentin had sunk over the past months, how deeply depressed he had become. He still was, of course; you could not expect an immediate cure. He was still given to dark moods, sudden rages, bleak depressions--but the patches of sunlight lasted longer all the time, the smiles came more frequently, he was beginning to make jokes.

113 "I'm sorry you've had such a bad time of it, Papa," Ellis said slowly.

"Stephen didn't tell me it was so serious." He paused, frowning.

"He did say you were very depressed," he admitted.

"But I just did not understand, and I was so busy..."

Quentin's frown returned; there was petulance in the line of his mouth.

Ellis had made a mistake by mentioning the corporation.

"Too busy to come and see your father!" he muttered. "Well, I don't want to quarrel with you again--I won't ask any questions about the corporation'..."

Claudia stared fixedly at Ellis, willing him to meet her eyes, and he turned his head to stare back at her. She gave a peremptory jerk of the head towards Quentin, then said aloud, "I expect your son wants to consult you about ~some problem he has, sir, so I'll leave you two alone..."

"I doubt it," Quentin said bleakly.

"You don't know him... I haven't introduced you, have I? Claudia, this is Ellis, my elder son, who is chairman and managing director of the corporation. Ellis, this is Claudia Thorburn."

"We've met," Ellis said curtly, and his father's face showed shock.

"What? When did you meet her? She never told me... I've often mentioned you, but she never said she knew you." He turned his head in a gesture she found both familiar and poignant, his eyes straining in her direction, as if he still hoped he might suddenly be able to see her.

"Why didn't you say you knew him, Claudia? Very strange, that you do not say you know him. Why do you keep it to yourself?."

With a sinking heart, Claudia saw the flare of suspicion back in his face, heard the old note of sullen distrust in his voice. For a while, Quentin had been 114 so much improved, so relaxed and cheerful, now he seemed to be back at square one. He was back where he had been when she first arrived; bleak, grim, remote, ready to see conspiracy behind everyday events, half paranoid, balanced on a mental knife edge.

"She does not like me," Ellis said drily, staring across the room at Claudia, cold mockery in his face. He smiled, but he was not really amused. Not for the first time, Claudia saw a strong resemblance between the two men; a brooding," dark anger that disturbed her.

"Does not like you?" Quentin sounded incredulous, his eyebrows rising.

"I've never known a woman to dislike you."

"This one does," Ellis drily a.s.sured him. "Claudia... Is he lying?

Tell me, just between you and me," murmured Quentin with amus.e.m.e.nt, 'do you like him?"

"No," she said with force, and Ellis gave her a dark glowering stare.

Quentin laughed aloud.

"You see, Ellis--she isn't afraid to say what she thinks. I like that."

"I can't say I do," Ellis muttered.

"Some people might call it pure insolence!"

He gave her a pointed look and Claudia immediately said to his father, "Your son is hinting that that was why I was sacked by the management of the hotel I worked for, sir. You remember, that was my last job before I came to work for you? You didn't bother to take up references for them because you had my agency reference, but the fact is, I was too frank with an important but very difficult guest. I was accused of ingolence, and fired."

115 Ellis eyed her menacingly, but she pretended not to be aware of that, lowering her lashes.

Quentin put his head on one side, grimacing.

"The difficult guest was a man, of course?"

"Yes, sir," she said blandly.

"Ha." He grinned.

"Some dull, middle-aged businessman who was away from his wife and family, and wanted a little fun? I can guess what happened, I think, Oh, yes! He made advances to you?"

"Something like that, sir." She ventured a glance at Ellis through her lashes and saw his profile, carved in flint, his mouth grim.

"And you turned him down?" Quentin slapped his knee, laughing.

"Good girl! I would like to have been there. I hope you slapped his face for him!"

"Father, I hate to interrupt," said Ellis brusquely, 'but I can't stay long, and I would like the chance to talk to you in private?

Smiling demurely, Claudia got up.

"Of course. Excuse me. I'll be in your study, if you need me, Mr. Lefevre."

"I have left a tape on my desk for you," he told her as she left. If Quentin could not sleep at night, he would sit up in bed, remembering his life and talking quietly into a dictaphone, as if he were reminiscing with an old friend. Claudia always enjoyed typing out those pages; they were immensely readable and had a casual, chatty style that he did not seem to achieve when he was dictating directly to her. Perhaps her presence inhibited him?

As she closed the door behind her, Celeste appeared, carrying a tray of fresh coffee and hot croissants, another cup, another plate and knife.

"J'ai quelque chose pour M'sieur Ellis," she said happily, as Claudia glanced at the tray.

"Comment ca 116 va? Vous pensez qu'il va bien? They are not quarrelling?"

"Not yet," Claudia said, opening the door again, to let her enter the room.

She went on to Quentin's study, but 'before she began work she rang Stephen in Cambridge. There was no reply from his flat and when she rang his laboratory she was told that he had not arrived yet. She left a message, asking him to ring her, and then she began to work on the material on Quentin's dictaphone. He spoke quite quickly but she was accustomed now to listening to him speak on tape, so she had no problem following what he said, and half an hour later she had several pages of the ma.n.u.script ready for Quentin. She was just coming to the end ( last night's recording when the telephone rang.

"Oh, Stephen!" she said, on recognising the voice of the caller.

"Thank you for ringing back. has happened that I think you should know about. Your brother has turned up. He's with your father now." , "What sort of mood are they in?" Stephen asked, sounding anxious, and he was right to feel that His father and brother were both difficult men. ~ "There was some friction at first," she said slowly, "Your father didn't want to admit he was pleased to see him, although he obviously was! He was and Ellis was touchy in his turn, you were quite right when you said that it was six of one and half of the other, and I told Ellis what I thought of " You did? " Stephen sounded amazed.

"Somebody had to say it! Your father is old, and living under the most enormous strain. Ellis Well, at least he seemed to listen, and they both made an effort to stop quarrelling, and I thought thi~ l 17 looked quite promising, so I left them alone. It seemed a good idea at the time, to give them a chance to talk. I hope I did the right thing."

"I'm sure you did!" said Stephen, but she was not rea.s.sured.

"But if anything went wrong, it could set your father back, just when he was making such good progress. Oh, I could kill your brother!"

"Would you like me to come over?" asked Stephen. "I'm very busy at the moment, but if it would make you feel any easier?"

"Yes, it would, please come, Stephen," she said, relief in her voice.

"I'll feel much better if you are here to deal with Ellis."

"I'll come right away," he promised, and rang off. She put the phone

down, a smile still on her face, and heard a sound over by the door. Her head came up, her green eyes wide and startled. Ellis stood there, his face harsh, and her heart sank. He had heard everything she'd said.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

"JUST what are you and my brother up to?" Ellis drawled icily, coming into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Why has he got you this job with my father?"

Claudia put both hands on the desk and faced him, her green eyes flashing with the hostility she felt whenever she saw him. She had never imagined that you could feel both such deep hostility and this terrible drag of attraction, but then she had never met anyone like Ellis Lefevre before.

"I needed a job, remember! Because you lost me the last one."

The? We had this argument before and I told you "All right," she interrupted.

"You--or your girl-friend--made sure I lost the last one."

"So you asked my brother to find you one?" His black brows swooped upwards incredulously.

"Since when did Stephen set up to be an employment agency?"

"I didn't ask him. He suggested... he thought I might be able to get on with your father."

"Oh, really? And what particular qualities did he feel you had?"

Ellis asked bitingly, "Apart from big green eyes, red hair and a s.e.xy body?"

"Stephen doesn't have your one-track mind!" she burst out and he laughed coldly.

"He's a man, isn't he? Don't tell me he doesn't want you, because I wouldn't believe you. You may have 118 119 been looking for a new job. OK. But what I want to know is why exactly did he bring you down here to work for my father? What was his motive? He must have one; n.o.body does anything without a reason."

"He wanted to help me, that was his reason!" Claudia's voice rose angrily and he signalled with one hand in a peremptory gesture.

"My father will be coming along any minute, I left him talking to the gardener. Keep your voice down!"

"Why should I? I don't care if he hears me!"

She had hardly finished saying that when they both heard Quentin tapping his way along the corridor with his stick. He refused to have a guide dog. He had evolved his own way of getting about inside the house. Celeste never moved any furniture and Quentin had learnt every inch of the terraine in the house; he moved with his stick, feeling ahead of him to check exactly where he was at any given moment.

Claudia gave Ellis a triumphant, taunting smile. "Unless you want to continue the discussion, I suggest you let me get on with my work, and you leave, before your father gets here."

He gave her a look gleaming with menace, but didn't answer. Moving to the door, he opened it and said coolly, "Ah, there you are, Papa. I was just going to set up that phone call for you. Thank you for helping me out of this difficulty. I was at my wits' end. Come and sit at your desk, and I'll dial the number."

He moved to tak~ his father's arm and Quentin nudged him out of the way with his elbow, shaking his head with a fiery look.

"I can find my own way, boy!"

Ellis fell back, picked up the telephone and began to dial. Quentin tapped his way to his chair and sank into it, leaning his stick beside it. He looked very cheerful, Claudia was relieved to see.

Ellis spoke in German into the telephone, then handed the phone to his father.

"Thank you, Papa,"

he said, and Quentin nodded, smiling.

"Happy to help, my boy."

Claudia wondered what exactly was going on, but she had no chance to find out because Ellis swung and grabbed her arm, jerking his head towards the door.

"This is strictly confidential, Miss Thorburn." Quentin held the phone in one hand, his head lifted sightlessly in their direction.

"Yes, Claudia, I am sorry... Would you mind leaving for a few moments?"

"Certainly, sir," she said smoothly, collected her warm sheepskin jacket from a cupboard in the hall, and went out for a stroll in the garden. It was a cool February morning; the sky opalescent, soft blues and greys with a streak of gold where the sun lay behind a cloud.

Along the back wall of the house grew winter-flowering jasmine, bare, black branches gleaming with starry yellow flowers against the whitewashed stone.

At this time of year there were almost no flowers around; the jasmine gave a splash of vivid colour to the garden. She lingered to pick a few branches for the vases in the hall, which Celeste liked to fill with flowers from their garden, or, if none was available, with branches of shrubs or gra.s.ses mixed with hothouse blooms grown in the greenhouse by the gardener. This jasmine was a useful stand-by since it flowered all through the winter and was so pretty.

121 Turning away, her arms full of the sprays of flowers, she found Ellis standing on the terrace, behind her, a few feet away, watching her, and her nerves p.r.i.c.kled.