'No. Thanking God you're miles away! Goodbye.' And she slammed down the receiver, her hand trembling with the force of her anger. The man's conceit was only surpassed by his enormous ego. Bitter haüed consumed her. If there was any way on God's earth she could make him pay for what he had done, she would. The telephone rang again. She was torn between letting it ring and possibly waking Anna, or answering it and hearing the hateful voice again.
Duty won, 'Yes?' she snapped.
'No one puts the telephone down on me. Do I make myself clear Saffron?' His former easy amusement had vanished; he was now back to being a hard-voiced autocrat.
'Mr Statis, I have told you, your mother is sleeping. I have no wish to speak to you, not now, not ever. Do I make myself clear?' she drawled with icy cynicism.
'Something has happened; you sound different.'
She was different; she was no longer the naïve innocent, helplessly surrendering to his practised seductive chama. Just the sound of his voice, which she had once thought deep and rich, now filled her with loathing.
'Saffron! Are you still there?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Cut out the sarcasm and tell me what has happened. Did you discover Mama is a fake? Is that it?'
'I see no point in this conversation, and unless you have a message for your mother I really must go.' The only fake Saffron had discovered was Alex Statis and the rage was like a festering sore inside her.
'Yes, OK, I'll be in touch.'
Not if I can help it, she thought grimly, replacing the receiver.
Saffron strategically placed the lounger in the back garden of the house to catch the sun's rays and settled down to soak up the sun. She had driven Anna to her Friday afternoon bridge game and the next few hours were her own. Who needs foreign holidays, she mused, when late June in England is just about perfect? Warm days and long light nights.
By a bit of judicious questioning she had established from Anna that Alex was not expected any time in the near future, and she remembered her telling her that when he did come to London he had his own apartment, so her fear of seeing the man had abated over the past two weeks. She knew he telephoned every day but she had found it relatively easy to vanish when he called.
Anna had improved in leaps and bounds and her shoulder was completely better. In fact Saffron felt that she was taking her salary on false pretences but Anna would not hear of her leaving. Plus there was the small problem of having nowhere to stay. She didn't want to waste any of her savings on an apartment when very shortly she would have her own property.
To Saffron's surprise, she had discovered that Anna was a much livelier lady than she had first thought. Together they had attended various art exhibitions, the theatre, an outdoor opera. The woman was a committed culture buff. At last night's poetry reading in Anna's elegant sitting-room Saffron had hardly been able to contain her amusement as the latest 'darling boy' waffled on about 'Chopsticks', the symbolism escaping Saffron completely.
A smile on her lips at the memory, she closed her eyes and gently dozed.
'Perfect Sleeping Beauty waiting for her prince.'
Saffron's eyes snapped open and she was horrified to find Alex Statis standing staring down at her. She hauled herself up to a sitting position, stiff with outrage at his unheralded arrival. 'And instead she gets the toad,' she drawled, her head high, her eyes blazing hatred.
One dark brow arched enquiringly at the biting sarcasm in her tone. 'I had hoped for a more enthusiastic welcome after deserting my office simply to come and look afte you and Mama.'
'You shouldn't have bothered. Your mother and I can manage perfectly well on our own.' She glanced up; over his tall frame he was still wearing a business suit, and the last lingering doubt vanished from her mind. It was the same man.
'I'm sure you can, Saffron,' he agreed as he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it on the ground. With one hand he deftly loosened the tie at his throat and flicked open the top three buttons of his shirt, his dark eyes openly laughing at her. 'But who am I to spoil my mama's enjoyment? She has refused to allow me to speak to you on the telephone, so
I have, as a dutiful son, decided to play her game and spend the next few weeks here.'
So that was why it had been so easy to avoid his calls. Anna had made sure of it, and Saffron could not help wondering why even as she responded icily, 'Your mother and I can enjoy ourselves without you.' If he was staying she was leaving!
She watched as he lowered his long frame on to the soft green grass beside her chair, long legs stretched out before him in lazy ease, his hands clasped behind his head, his face lifted to the sun,
'Hardly the welcome I was hoping for. Alone at last!' he drawled mockingly. 'Isn't this where you tell me you missed me?'
'Missed you!' she exclaimed, parrot fashion. 'Like a hole in the head.' The man must be mad.
'I san see my dear mama has not revealed her little game yet.' His eyes, were closed, thick dark lashes curving on his bronzed skin; he looked vulnerable but Saffron knew better.
'What game?' she demanded coldly.
'You, my dear Saffron, are one is a long line of supposedly good women my mother parades before me every summer under the guise of a companion, whatever, in a vain attempt to get me married off.' He looted up at her, a cynical smile slashing his hard face. 'You should be flattered; you have done better than most; usually I have than out of my life in days.'