Come Running. Anne Mather

      The drive across town was accomplished as silently as they had come, and it seemed no time at all before they were drawing up outside the apartment building. Only then did Darrell feel a sense of contrition at her childish behaviour

      “Thank you,” she said, glancing at him reluctantly.

      “No sweat.” He shrugged indifferently. Then, as she was about to get out, he added quietly: “You must tell me if I’m interrupting some scene you and Jeff have got going for you. I got the impression, perhaps mistakenly, from Susan, that you were not interested.”

      “I’m not – that is –” Darrell broke off awkwardly. “I’m sorry if I was – ungrateful. I’m not, truly. It’s just – well, I’m tired, I suppose, and not very tactful.”

      He half turned in his seat towards her, his face shadowed in the light from the street lamps. “Why should you need to be tactful?” he asked softly. “That’s a curious expression to use.”

      Darrell sighed. “It was a figure of speech, that’s all. I – oh, goodnight, Mr. Lawford. And thank you again.”

      With trembling fingers, she thrust open the door and climbed out, slamming it behind her. Then she ran up the steps into the building, stopping with a thumping heart when she heard footsteps behind her.

      “Come on,” he said, taking her arm, “I’ll see you into the flat. I don’t like the idea of you coming home alone at this time of night.”

      Darrell had no choice but to agree, although his fingers at her elbow sent little electric currents down her veins into her hand. He released her at her door and she sought the key in the bottom of her bag, inserting it in the lock with unsteady fingers. Once the door was open and the lamps switched on, she turned back to him with feigned nonchalance.

      “You see – no intruders!” she remarked lightly.

      “Why are you afraid of me, Darrell?” he asked unexpectedly, one hand supporting himself against the open door.

      “Af-afraid of you?” Darrell faltered. “I don’t know what you mean.”

      Matthew studied her suddenly heated cheeks with resignation. “Yes, you do,” he returned flatly. “You’re as nervous as a wild cat when I’m around. Why? What do you expect me to do to you? What has Susan told you about me that’s given me such a bad reputation?”

      Darrell gasped. “I – you’re imagining things, Mr. Lawford.”

      “Am I?” Matthew folded his arms. “I wonder.” He smiled, but it was a rather twisted sort of smile. “Did she tell you that I live some kind of amoral life? That I mix with people whose whole object in life is the pursuit of pleasure? Well, maybe she was right. The codes I live by might not go down too well in a place like Sedgeley. But I am not without conscience, Miss Anderson, and contrary to belief, I’ve never been unfaithful to my wife!”

      Darrell didn’t know where to look or what to say. She felt totally and completely demoralised, the more so because she had judged him without scruples.

      “So …” Matthew turned to go out the door, “I’ll say goodnight. My mother told me you’ve been given the week off, so no doubt we’ll see one another again. Goodbye.”

      The door closed behind him and Darrell stood staring at it feeling sick and distraught. And this time, it had nothing to do with Susan and Frank.