All Male. Kay Thorpe. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Kay Thorpe
Издательство: HarperCollins
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occurred to me.’ He regarded her with quizzical expression, his gaze lingering on the full ripeness of her mouth for a moment. ‘Are you always this hostile, or is it me in particular you’re against?’

      Already regretting the momentary loss of composure, she made an effort to sound properly repentant. ‘I apologise. I was out of line.’

      ‘I didn’t ask for apologies, only explanations.’

      ‘I don’t have to explain anything,’ she returned on as cool a note as she could conjure. ‘I’m not in your employ, Mr Hartford.’

      The glint in the grey eyes became a gleam, infinitely disturbing. ‘You’re in my home. That gives me certain rights, wouldn’t you say?’

      He was mocking her again, his whole manner nervejangling. Kerry steeled herself not to react, thankful when Estelle chose that moment to put in an appearance. Whatever her feelings toward the man, she would have done better to keep them under wraps, she reflected wryly.

      ‘Sorry to be so tardy,’ proffered the older woman. ‘A few things I had to do before we get started. I hope Lee’s been looking after you.’

      ‘Oh, I have,’ her son assured her. ‘Kerry and I had a very interesting conversation.’ The grey eyes turned her way again, the mockery still evident. ‘You don’t mind my using your first name?’

      It took an effort, but she managed to keep her tone level. ‘Not at all, Mr Hartford.’

      ‘Lee,’ he returned. ‘Let’s not stand on ceremony.’

      Estelle looked from one to the other with sudden interest. ‘Am I missing something?’

      ‘Nothing of any importance,’ Kerry assured her before her son could answer. ‘I’m ready whenever you are, Mrs Sullivan.’

      The older woman smiled. ‘As Lee just said, let’s not stand on ceremony. Call me Estelle.’

      Kerry smiled back. ‘All right, Estelle.’

      The door opened again to admit the housekeeper, carrying a tray. Lee got up to take it from her and deposit it on the table set between the two sofas, looking across enquiringly at Kerry. ‘Black or white?’

      It was already gone ten, she realised, catching a glimpse of the mantel clock out of the corner of her eye. By now he should surely be thinking about going to the office? The Hartford Corporation occupied several floors of a city high-rise, with a staff of several hundred; she knew that because she had worked there for a short period a few months back as a fill-in for someone off ill, although she had seen nothing of the company president at the time.

      ‘Black, no sugar, please,’ she requested.

      ‘The way I like it too,’ he acknowledged, pouring a cup and handing it to her. ‘So we do have something in common.’

      The only thing, she wanted to say, but with Estelle there she contented herself instead with a faint curl of her lip, not caring a damn if he saw it. Too late now, anyway, to pretend indifference. He already recognised her antagonism. If he proved curious enough to question further the source at some point, she might very well tell him!

      Estelle took her coffee with a little cream but also refused sugar. Slim and shapely in cream jersey, she looked far from her age. She could play a woman in her thirties without any difficulty, given stage make-up and lighting, Kerry judged.

      Her reluctance to return to the theatre seemed strange on the face of it. She had been such a star; she could so easily be one again. Her agent was obviously for it so why the hesitation? Surely not fear of failure? An actress of her calibre could never fail.

      It was almost half past ten before Lee made a move at last.

      ‘I’m playing squash with Phil early evening,’ he announced, ‘so don’t wait dinner. We’ll eat at the club.’

      ‘Give Phil my love,’ said his mother, ‘and tell him it’s about time he came over.’

      ‘You could always pay him a visit,’ Lee pointed out mildly.

      ‘With Renata playing Lady Bountiful?’ She shook her head. ‘Not my scene, darling.’

      The shrug held resignation. ‘I’ll convey the message.’ He lifted a brief hand in Kerry’s direction, the twist of his lips conveying a different message. ‘Have a nice day.’

      Estelle turned a speculative glance as the door closed behind him, registering the faint colour in Kerry’s cheeks. ‘I’ve a feeling you’re not over-impressed with my son,’ she said mildly.

      The colour deepened a little. ‘I’m sorry if that’s how it came across.’

      ‘You don’t need to be. He can be pretty infuriating when the mood takes him. From the atmosphere when I walked in, I gather the two of you had been sparring?’

      Kerry had to smile. ‘I’d scarcely call it that. Just a difference of opinion.’

      ‘A very big difference to put that spark in his eye. The only other time I see him look like that is when some business battle is about to commence. He thrives on opposition.’

      ‘I can imagine.’ Kerry reached for her bag and extracted her notebook and pencil. ‘How would you like to start?’

      It was Estelle’s turn to smile. ‘You’re right, of course. I’m procrastinating. Are you close enough over there if I stretch out on the sofa here and just start talking?’

      ‘If I’m not I’ll let you know,’ Kerry promised.

      Slipping off her shoes, the older woman settled herself comfortably with her head pillowed on a cushion. ‘You’ve read a lot of biographies,’ she said. ‘Where would be a good place to start?’

      Kerry considered for a moment before replying. ‘Personally, I prefer the ones that go straight through from point A to point Z, rather than the flashback type.’

      ‘From childhood, you mean?’

      ‘If possible. Where and when you were born, what kind of lifestyle you had, schooldays and so on. Humorous little anecdotes, if you can remember any.’

      ‘Plenty of those. I was always into mischief of one kind or another. I got myself expelled from my convent prep school for taking other pupils on guided tours of the nuns’ quarters at a penny a time when they were supposedly all busy elsewhere. It was working quite well until we all trooped in on Sister Josephine who’d been taken ill and had had to retire to bed. I can still see her expression!’

      “That’s the kind of thing,’ Kerry encouraged, laughing with her. ‘What about your family?’

      ‘I can’t offer any rags to riches theme, I’m afraid. My father was in banking, my mother something of a society queen. We lived not very far from here in a house not unlike this one.’ Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed, her voice reminiscent.

      ‘My brother, Robert, was born when I was five. As a girl, I took something of a back seat from then on, I suppose. Not that it worried me too much. I’d had my first experience of facing an audience in the school Nativity play. I knew even then that it was what I wanted to do with my life...’

      Kerry’s hand raced over the page, her interest already captured. Later they could go back over it all and perhaps insert a little more detail here and there, but for now it was coming along just fine. She looked forward to hearing more.

      Lee Hartford she relegated to the very back of her mind, vowing to keep him there from now on. He would probably be spending little time at home during the day anyway.

      CHAPTER TWO

      APART from a couple of brief encounters with the master of the house, when little more than a casual good morning was exchanged, that first week went by smoothly enough.

      Working mornings only, Estelle was managing a fair output, leaving