The easy chatter between Leon and his mother reminded Helen of the way the two of them had talked together in the evenings when she had first moved in here. She turned away, hoping neither of them would see the tears in her eyes. Leon left for America in the morning and so tonight would be their last time together. And it didn’t seem to bother him that he would be leaving her for a few weeks, for ever if he did but know it.
His mother stayed for dinner, something it appeared she normally did on these occasions. Leon had been polite to Helen, but spent most of his time talking to his mother. He stood up after they had finished their coffee in the lounge, prepared to take his mother home.
‘Aren’t you coming with us, Helen?’ Mrs Masters asked gently.
Helen looked questioningly at Leon, but his expression told her nothing. ‘Well, I—’
‘Oh, you must come with us,’ Mrs Masters insisted. ‘Charles would love to see you again. Try and persuade her, Leon,’ she prompted.
He took his time about speaking. ‘Come along for the ride, Helen,’ he drawled finally. ‘Then you can keep me company on the way back.’
The invitation was meant to be insulting, even if his mother didn’t realise it, and Helen’s mouth tightened as she felt her lower lip begin to tremble. But if she didn’t go with him their time left together would be very limited. It would be very late when he returned and he was leaving at lunch-time tomorrow. She had to go, no matter whether he really wanted her with him or not.
‘I’ll just get my jacket,’ she agreed finally, avoiding Leon’s searching gaze. He had obviously meant her to refuse.
Although his mother protested Leon insisted she join him in the front of the car. ‘You know sitting in the back always makes you feel ill,’ he replied to all her objections.
‘I’m afraid it does,’ she acknowledged almost guiltily. ‘Would you mind just this once, Helen? Only I—’
‘I don’t mind at all,’ Helen cut in stiffly. The mood Leon was in she would be better off in the back. As long as she could be close to him, see him, hear him speak, then she didn’t mind where she sat. ‘Besides,’ she added with a challenging look at Leon, ‘I’ll have him to myself all the way home.’
‘So you will,’ Mrs Masters smiled. ‘Well, that’s settled then, Leon.’
‘So it would appear.’ He gave Helen a narrow-eyed look.
Helen evaded that look, as she evaded meeting his eyes as he watched her in the driving mirror. She wished she had sat behind his mother now, but if she moved over now Leon would know the reason for it. And so she sat rigidly in the back of the car, staring fixedly out of the window.
‘Stay for coffee,’ Mr Masters insisted on their arrival.
Leon shook his head regretfully. ‘Not tonight, Dad. I have a long drive back and an early start for the States in the morning.’
‘If you say so, son,’ he shrugged resignedly. ‘Nice to have seen you again, Helen,’
he smiled at her. ‘Perhaps Leon will bring you down for a visit when he gets back.’
‘Perhaps,’ she agreed noncommittally. She and Leon wouldn’t even be seeing each other when he got back!
‘We’ll see.’ Leon was just as vague.
Far from being the company she had suggested Helen was very quiet on the drive back, Leon’s attitude this evening making her feel chill inside, and she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word.
‘Do you want to talk?’ he asked suddenly.
She gave him a sharp look. ‘Do you have something you want to talk about?’
‘No,’ he said stonily.
‘Neither do I.’
He shrugged. ‘In that case I’ll put some music on, if you have no objections?’
Helen bit her lip to stop it trembling, something she seemed to have been doing all evening. ‘No, I have no objections.’
Within seconds the haunting sound of Barry Manilow filled the air, the words of the songs curiously appropriate to them, full of sadness and final goodbyes. Helen spent most of the journey blinking back tears—and hoping Leon wouldn’t notice them. Not that she could be sure it would bother him even if he did.
It was after midnight when they got back to the flat and Helen made straight for her bedroom.
‘Where are you going?’ Leon asked softly.