‘For goodness’ sake, Leon!’ she said impatiently. ‘Don’t these parcels tell you anything?’
He seemed to notice them for the first time. ‘You’ve been shopping?’
‘I would have thought that was obvious. Here,’ she handed him one of the parcels, ‘I bought you a present.’
That seemed to stop him in his tracks. ‘You bought me a present?’ He seemed to have trouble articulating.
‘Yes.’ She moved into the lounge, shedding her jacket on the way.
‘What is it?’ Leon stared down at the parcel in his hand.
‘Open it and see.’
‘I’ve never had a woman buy me presents before,’ he said roughly.
‘Present,’ she corrected. ‘After the way you just shouted at me I’m not sure there’ll ever be another one.’
Leon clicked open the lid of the small square box, lifting out the gold medallion suspended on a thick gold chunky chain. He slid it over his golden hair, unbuttoning several more buttons of his shirt so that the medallion could be seen nestling among the darker blond hair on his chest.
‘There’s an inscription,’ Helen told him stiffly. The medallion looked strangely intimate nestling against him like that, making her feel as if she almost touched him herself.
Leon turned the medallion over and read the two words engraved there. ‘Do you mean it?’ he asked huskily.
She now regretted her impulse. ‘Love, Helen’, she had had engraved there, and even if she herself suspected it were true she should not have given this man that power over her. Her shrug was deliberately casual. ‘It was just an impulse,’ she told him truthfully.
‘But “Love"?’ he probed.
‘Well, it wouldn’t have looked very nice if I’d just put “From Helen” on it, not after all you’re trying to do for me.’
‘I see.’ He turned away. ‘Thank you,’ he added coldly. Things fell into an uneasy routine for them after that. With Leon out at work all day Helen was left very much on her own. They spent their evenings talking of impersonal things, the only contact they made with each other being the perfunctory kiss on the lips Leon gave her in the mornings when he left and in the evenings when he returned.
The bathroom scene had never been repeated; Helen always made sure that it was unoccupied before she went in. Things were very impersonal between Leon and herself, so impersonal that they might well have been two old friends just spending a few days together—and Helen hated it! Whether Leon was doing it deliberately or simply didn’
t care for her any more she didn’t know; what she did know was that she was so aware of him now she was at fever pitch.
But he no longer seemed interested in her sexually, often working late at a moment’s notice. They had been living together almost two weeks when he telephoned once again to say he would be late.
‘I know it’s Max’s night off,’ he continued, ‘but I’m sure if you look in the refrigerator you’ll find something to make up a meal.’
She knew she would, because she had decided to cook him a meal tonight! ‘Do you have to work?’ she asked with a sigh.
‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. Use your common sense, Helen,’ he told her impatiently. ‘I shouldn’t be too late, and you can always watch television.’
‘I don’t want to watch television,’ she said petulantly. ‘I want to be with you.’
‘Why this sudden desire for my company?’ he drawled mockingly. ‘You hardly notice I’m there even when I do come home.’
She didn’t notice anything else! ‘You know that isn’t true,’ she protested.
‘Don’t delude yourself it’s my company you want, Helen,’ he snapped. ‘Why not go and see Jenny?’
‘She’s going out.’
‘I see you already checked,’ he taunted.
‘I did not! I was talking to her earlier today and she happened to mention that she and Matt were going to a party.’
‘Probably Suzanne’s,’ he muttered.