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Because she had been only sixteen when their father and mother had died,
and because of the circumstances of their parents' deaths, he supposed, she
had never had a normal adolescence. When she should have been having
fun, making friends and going out to parties, she had spent her time at home,
sewing and reading, and looking after the house. She had, in effect, taken
over their mother's role, and it was only when he'd married Diana that she
had realised it couldn't go on.
Reed sighed. Perhaps it was his fault, too. If he'd married someone who
would have taken the trouble to make a friend of Victoria, things might have
turned out differently. As it was, the two women had hated one another on
sight, and, until Victoria had accepted defeat and moved away, the
atmosphere in his home had been almost tangible.
Of course, she had spent several years working in the United States,
travelling back and forth to London and Paris, and generally behaving as
any young, liberated woman should. But when Diana walked out she hadn't
needed an invitation to pack up and come home, and Reed was very much
afraid he had taken advantage of her good nature.
Even so, that was then, and this was now, and the last ten years had given
her the confidence she had been lacking. And, he knew, Victoria herself
would not welcome his interference in her affairs at this stage. So far as she
was concerned, Luther Styles could do no wrong, and the idea that once he
had achieved his ambitions he would drop her like the proverbial hot potato
was not what she wanted to hear. She was totally convinced of the man's
integrity, and therefore anything Reed said was suspect.
In that respect, her attitude was much like that of their visitor's, thought
Reed now, exchanging his empty glass for a full one from a passing waiter.
Jon's latest girlfriend was definitely a prickly young creature, and it was
becoming embarrassingly obvious that she had no time for him. He
wondered why. Clearly, Jon hadn't told her much about his background
before bringing her here, and perhaps she resented the fact. But was that
really any reason for her to treat him as if he were entirely to blame for her
misconceptions? After all, he had done his utmost to make her feel at home,
even if Victoria still regarded her in much the same light as she had
regarded all of Jon's previous girlfriends. But then, Victoria was biased. She
still hadn't got over the fact that Helen had a daughter an illegitimate
daughter, as she insisted on putting it.
However, the fact remained that Helen was not like any of the other females
Jon had brought home. For one thing, it was obvious that he cared about her,
more than he had cared for any of the others; and if nothing came of their
relationship Reed suspected it would not be for want of effort on his son's
part.
Which made her attitude towards him all the more difficult to understand.
Surely, if she did care about Jon she would try to cement her relationship
with his family, not sabotage it. And yet, whenever Reed tried to initiate a
conversation with her, she froze him off. It wasn't so much anything she said
as the way that she said it, showing him, in no uncertain manner, that she
had no wish to be sociable with him.
Reed was puzzled. He couldn't deny it. And intrigued. He was not a
conceited man by any means, but he had not reached his present age without
having been made aware that generally women enjoyed his company, and
Helen's behaviour was so uncharacteristic. He had watched her with Jon; he
had seen how relaxed and enchanting she could be in his son's company; and
he was convinced that it was not natural for her to be brusque and
stand-offish. No, that particular side of her character was reserved for him,
and it was an unpalatable truth that the knowledge disturbed him.
He swallowed a mouthful of vintage champagne without really tasting it,
and expelled his breath on an impatient sigh. The trouble was, there was
something about her that was vaguely familiar. Not that he imagined they
had ever met before. He was too old to play with that particular line. But,
nevertheless, the more she goaded him, the more compelling the feeling
became, and sometimes it was difficult to sustain a calm indifference.
Of course, her association with Victoria was little better but Reed knew
that was more Victoria's fault than hers. His sister was still smarting over the
way he had spoken to her the night Jon and Helen arrived, and consequently
she was in no mood to make things easier, for any of them. Besides, she had
been involved in finalising the arrangements for the opening of the gallery,
and her main concern had been in ensuring that Reed kept his promise about
asking Jon not to attend.
And he had, Reed acknowledged now, remembering that conversation with
his son without enthusiasm. Reed had never considered it to be a particularly
good idea, and Jon's attitude had endorsed that opinion.
'What's the matter?' Jon had asked sarcastically. 'Is the V.W. afraid I'll steal
her thunder? Isn't she big enough to stand the competition?'
'In a manner of speaking,' Reed had said, realising there was little point in
denying the truth. 'And when you speak of your aunt in that derogatory
manner, can you wonder?'
Jon had sighed. 'Well she makes me so mad! I get the feeling sometimes
that I'm a visitor in my own home. It's only because you never do anything
to oppose her that she doesn't do the same to you.'
'That's enough.' Reed could only let his son go so far. 'If you're regarded as a
visitor here, it's your own fault. We only see you when you want something,
be it cash, a new car, or accommodation for your girlfriends. Can you
wonder your aunt gets impatient with you? She cares about you, Jon, but
you don't even notice.'
'Well, OK.' For once, Jon had been prepared to concede the truth of this
statement, and his father had scarcely recovered from this anomaly when he
added, 'Maybe you have a point. Maybe I have treated this place like a hotel
in recent years, but maybe that's going to change.'
'To change?' Reed's response had been wary.
'Yes.' Jon seemed to consider his words. 'I'm thinking of leaving the group,
as a matter of fact. I've had it with living my life out of suitcases, playing
gigs in places you'd rather not know. Since well, since I met Helen, I've
been thinking of spending more time writing music, rather than performing
it. Getting a permanent base. Maybe settling down.'
'Here?' Reed had enquired faintly, strangely reluctant to voice the question,
but Jon had not been reluctant to answer.
'Could be,' he had replied, without any hesitation. 'So maybe Aunt Vee
ought to get used to me being around. And if she has a problem with that,
then maybe she ought to make other arrangements.'
Still, so far Jon had respected his wishes, Reed reflected wryly. His own
fears that Jon might gatecrash the party had not been realised, and Victoria
should have nothing to complain about. And as for Helen--
'Now, Reed, what are you doing hiding yourself away over here?'
Reed's reverie was abruptly severed by the teasing voice of a brittle, pretty
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