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Authors: Margaret Pemberton
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fancy anyoneâs chances of surviving if they reminded her of the fact now. Aunt Harriet had once told me in amused exasperation, that Rozalinda had destroyed all her childhood photographs in case any enterprising pressman should get hold of one of them. Rozalinda was a natural beauty. And that meant that her violet eyes and blue-black hair were natural too! Phil had said callously that she had also had her breasts operated on. Certainly they were breathtaking and I couldnât remember them being quite so awe-inspiring when we were in Templarâs Way, but how Phil, of all people, would know a detail like that was beyond me. Rozalinda was Rozalinda. Bright. Sparkling. Flirtatious. Demanding constant attention. But tonight there was something else as well. A brittleness under the gay laughter that I had never noticed before. Perhaps she was under pressure. Being a constant sex symbol couldnât be easy.
Phil, satisfied with his mischief making, was looking more like a little boy than ever. His auburn hair curled attractively around a regular face that was usually too serious. Aunt Harriet said it was only my company that brought out the light-hearted side of him. What he needed was someone who would love him and with whom he would feel as much in tune as he did with me. And who, hopefully, he loved in return. I sometimes doubted Philâs ability to love physically. He had once had a brief affair with an older woman. She expected nothing more from him than he was prepared to give, yet he had broken off the relationship suddenly, saying that he had found out it wasnât her first affair and that it made him feel unclean. It seemed to me an unnatural attitude to take. She wasnât promiscuous and surely he couldnât have expected a woman of twenty-nine to have remained a virgin. But Phil had. The fact that he had no serious intentions towards her didnât signify. If there had been any other affairs I knew nothing of them. As far as I knew, and I was sure I knew pretty well, Philâs life was celibate.
The way Rozalinda was teasing and flirting with him, I wondered if I wouldnât be doing her a favour by telling her what I knew. She might have seduced every other man she had wanted, but she would never get Phil into bed with her in a million years. Purity of the soul was what Phil was looking for. Despite her many other attributes, purity was definitely not on Rozalindaâs list. Failing to get the answering banter from Phil, Rozalinda was turning her attention more and more to Tom. I felt sorry for Mary having to watch Tom manfully respond to his hostessâs flirtation. Though perhaps Tom wasnât finding it so hard. Rozalinda was undeniably beautiful and when she wanted to turn on the charm she could do it at a full blast. It was a charm that worked only on the opposite sex, but it certainly worked, and seeing the hurt in Maryâs eyes I began to feel annoyed. I accepted a helping of the delicious looking sweet, determined to have a private word with Rozalinda afterwards. It was unfair of her to ruin Maryâs holiday by teasing Tom for want of another more suitable admirer. She lifted her eyes at that exact moment, narrowing them on Milesâ unseeing head. I had a glimmer of the answer in that look. Suddenly sure that Rozalinda was only flirting with Tom to make Miles jealous. I remembered back to the night of Philâs party and the gossip that had been current at the time. That Miles and Rozalinda were having an affair. If the affair had lasted and she was wanting to provoke him, then the only other males she was able to do it with were Tom and Phil, and as Phil wasnât playing it had to be Tom. I wondered if Harold was even slightly aware. He didnât look it. He sat at the foot of the table, corpulent as ever, beaming at all and sundry, seemingly oblivious of his wifeâs neglect.
Miles said softly to me:- âRozalinda is in fine form, donât you
Phil, satisfied with his mischief making, was looking more like a little boy than ever. His auburn hair curled attractively around a regular face that was usually too serious. Aunt Harriet said it was only my company that brought out the light-hearted side of him. What he needed was someone who would love him and with whom he would feel as much in tune as he did with me. And who, hopefully, he loved in return. I sometimes doubted Philâs ability to love physically. He had once had a brief affair with an older woman. She expected nothing more from him than he was prepared to give, yet he had broken off the relationship suddenly, saying that he had found out it wasnât her first affair and that it made him feel unclean. It seemed to me an unnatural attitude to take. She wasnât promiscuous and surely he couldnât have expected a woman of twenty-nine to have remained a virgin. But Phil had. The fact that he had no serious intentions towards her didnât signify. If there had been any other affairs I knew nothing of them. As far as I knew, and I was sure I knew pretty well, Philâs life was celibate.
The way Rozalinda was teasing and flirting with him, I wondered if I wouldnât be doing her a favour by telling her what I knew. She might have seduced every other man she had wanted, but she would never get Phil into bed with her in a million years. Purity of the soul was what Phil was looking for. Despite her many other attributes, purity was definitely not on Rozalindaâs list. Failing to get the answering banter from Phil, Rozalinda was turning her attention more and more to Tom. I felt sorry for Mary having to watch Tom manfully respond to his hostessâs flirtation. Though perhaps Tom wasnât finding it so hard. Rozalinda was undeniably beautiful and when she wanted to turn on the charm she could do it at a full blast. It was a charm that worked only on the opposite sex, but it certainly worked, and seeing the hurt in Maryâs eyes I began to feel annoyed. I accepted a helping of the delicious looking sweet, determined to have a private word with Rozalinda afterwards. It was unfair of her to ruin Maryâs holiday by teasing Tom for want of another more suitable admirer. She lifted her eyes at that exact moment, narrowing them on Milesâ unseeing head. I had a glimmer of the answer in that look. Suddenly sure that Rozalinda was only flirting with Tom to make Miles jealous. I remembered back to the night of Philâs party and the gossip that had been current at the time. That Miles and Rozalinda were having an affair. If the affair had lasted and she was wanting to provoke him, then the only other males she was able to do it with were Tom and Phil, and as Phil wasnât playing it had to be Tom. I wondered if Harold was even slightly aware. He didnât look it. He sat at the foot of the table, corpulent as ever, beaming at all and sundry, seemingly oblivious of his wifeâs neglect.
Miles said softly to me:- âRozalinda is in fine form, donât you
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