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Authors: Roderic Jeffries
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for anyone who still has enough ambition to want to be a hundred per cent alive.’
He finished his wine. ‘Do you like living here?’
‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.’
‘Aren’t you worried about its effects on you?’
‘Not really, because it’s not the same for a woman. We can remain fully alive because we carry our interests around with us so much more than you men do. And in any case, when I get too fed up with meeting the same people who keep saying die same things at the same cocktail parties, I fly back to England and have a long, sybaritic wallow among the plays, concerts, operas, films, museums, art galleries — even the television there gets better and better the longer you have to watch other countries’.’
‘You’re lucky to be able to go back when you want.’
‘Evan has always been a very generous man.’
‘Is he your husband?’
‘My ex. The divorce was finalized a year ago.’
‘What is he like as a person?’
‘Kind, thoughtful, wealthy, and very generous.’
‘Then what went wrong?’
‘That’s a bloody silly question! Surely to God you’ve enough common sense not to think that all a husband needs to offer his wife to make her happy are kindliness and a limitless dress allowance? . . . The marriage was a mistake, just as much mine as his. I can’t live a lie so I told him how I felt. Being the man he is, he accepted my decision and told his lawyer — much against that desiccated man’s advice — to give me an irrevocable settlement in lieu of maintenance.’
‘So now you’re rich?’
‘I’ve more than I need, which I suppose meets most people’s idea of being rich.’ She suddenly sat up to face him. ‘But I’m rich only as long as I remain on my own. If ever I marry again I’m handing all that money back irrevocable or not, because if I kept it I would be back to living a lie.’
‘That leaves me free to tell you something you already know, I love you. Marry me, Diana. Your standard of living will take an almighty bump . . .’
‘Don’t step out of character and become all corny,’ she said sharply. Then she noticed his expression and she smiled. ‘Haven’t you realized I can be a real bitch without even trying? Look, what I was trying to say is this, I don’t ever want to be poor because it’s nicer being well off — love on the dole sounds hideous. But I don’t need to have wardrobes full of new clothes and a mock Tudor mansion in Bagshot to be happy. I just need to live with someone I both respect and love and who loves and respects me.’
‘I qualify for the last half: what about the first?’
‘I’m sorry, really sorry, Harry, but I’m not certain.’
‘Competition?’
‘For you — no. If I had to consider just you I’d know my feelings for sure, but I’ve also to worry about myself.’ She leaned forward and kissed him, briefly yet with tender passion. ‘You see I don’t want to make a second mistake. It would be so bloody painful for both of us.’ Her eyes remained rather sad as she said softly: ‘Just for once, give in to the sirens’ song. Let yourself drift. There’s no yesterday and no tomorrow, only today to be enjoyed without thought or consequence.’
CHAPTER XI
Superior Chief Salas was an impatient man and scornful of anyone whose mind appeared to work less quickly than his own. ‘Don’t you understand? I want to know whether the señorita did or did not die from natural causes?’ Alvarez sighed as he held the telephone receiver a little away from his ear. ‘Señor, until the results of the postmortem . . .’
‘Surely you’ve conducted at least some sort of an investigation into the circumstances of her death?’
‘Indeed I have . . .’
‘Then with what results?’
‘I suppose to be accurate, señor, I should say that at the moment there aren’t any.’
‘Why not?’
‘It hasn’t been easy . . .’
‘I imagine you find considerable difficulty in most things.’
In many ways,
He finished his wine. ‘Do you like living here?’
‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.’
‘Aren’t you worried about its effects on you?’
‘Not really, because it’s not the same for a woman. We can remain fully alive because we carry our interests around with us so much more than you men do. And in any case, when I get too fed up with meeting the same people who keep saying die same things at the same cocktail parties, I fly back to England and have a long, sybaritic wallow among the plays, concerts, operas, films, museums, art galleries — even the television there gets better and better the longer you have to watch other countries’.’
‘You’re lucky to be able to go back when you want.’
‘Evan has always been a very generous man.’
‘Is he your husband?’
‘My ex. The divorce was finalized a year ago.’
‘What is he like as a person?’
‘Kind, thoughtful, wealthy, and very generous.’
‘Then what went wrong?’
‘That’s a bloody silly question! Surely to God you’ve enough common sense not to think that all a husband needs to offer his wife to make her happy are kindliness and a limitless dress allowance? . . . The marriage was a mistake, just as much mine as his. I can’t live a lie so I told him how I felt. Being the man he is, he accepted my decision and told his lawyer — much against that desiccated man’s advice — to give me an irrevocable settlement in lieu of maintenance.’
‘So now you’re rich?’
‘I’ve more than I need, which I suppose meets most people’s idea of being rich.’ She suddenly sat up to face him. ‘But I’m rich only as long as I remain on my own. If ever I marry again I’m handing all that money back irrevocable or not, because if I kept it I would be back to living a lie.’
‘That leaves me free to tell you something you already know, I love you. Marry me, Diana. Your standard of living will take an almighty bump . . .’
‘Don’t step out of character and become all corny,’ she said sharply. Then she noticed his expression and she smiled. ‘Haven’t you realized I can be a real bitch without even trying? Look, what I was trying to say is this, I don’t ever want to be poor because it’s nicer being well off — love on the dole sounds hideous. But I don’t need to have wardrobes full of new clothes and a mock Tudor mansion in Bagshot to be happy. I just need to live with someone I both respect and love and who loves and respects me.’
‘I qualify for the last half: what about the first?’
‘I’m sorry, really sorry, Harry, but I’m not certain.’
‘Competition?’
‘For you — no. If I had to consider just you I’d know my feelings for sure, but I’ve also to worry about myself.’ She leaned forward and kissed him, briefly yet with tender passion. ‘You see I don’t want to make a second mistake. It would be so bloody painful for both of us.’ Her eyes remained rather sad as she said softly: ‘Just for once, give in to the sirens’ song. Let yourself drift. There’s no yesterday and no tomorrow, only today to be enjoyed without thought or consequence.’
CHAPTER XI
Superior Chief Salas was an impatient man and scornful of anyone whose mind appeared to work less quickly than his own. ‘Don’t you understand? I want to know whether the señorita did or did not die from natural causes?’ Alvarez sighed as he held the telephone receiver a little away from his ear. ‘Señor, until the results of the postmortem . . .’
‘Surely you’ve conducted at least some sort of an investigation into the circumstances of her death?’
‘Indeed I have . . .’
‘Then with what results?’
‘I suppose to be accurate, señor, I should say that at the moment there aren’t any.’
‘Why not?’
‘It hasn’t been easy . . .’
‘I imagine you find considerable difficulty in most things.’
In many ways,
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