Caroline. Anne Mather
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Adam until there was a knock at her door.
She hurried to open it, inwardly praying it wasn’t Aunt Agnes, who sometimes took it into her head to visit Caroline on Saturday afternoons. However, when she opened the door and saw Adam she gasped and said:
‘Why, Adam!’ in a surprised tone. ‘I’ve been watching for you, but I didn’t see the car.’
He shrugged and walked past her into the room, looking about him with interest. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked. ‘At least you look your age today.’
Caroline smiled. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ she answered lightly. ‘But don’t look round here. It’s all so old and untidy, I’m afraid.’
Adam nodded critically. ‘These old houses should all be demolished,’ he said, noticing the damp patch under the windows which Amanda had unsuccessfully tried to hide with a leather print. ‘A new block of flats would house twice as many people and be more hygienic’ He smiled at Caroline. ‘Shall we go?’
Today he was dressed in dark slacks and a navy blue sweater over a blue shirt. He was wearing his sheepskin coat and looked big and handsome. Caroline inwardly hugged herself as they went down to the car. A whole afternoon and possibly evening too with him all to herself.
To her surprise, Adam crossed to the white car. It looked sleek and powerful and she felt excited as she got in.
‘This is why I didn’t see you,’ she explained as he joined her in the automobile. ‘I only looked for the Rolls.’
‘Hm,’ he murmured in reply. ‘I decided the Rolls was in need of a check-up, so I brought this instead.’
‘I like it,’ exclaimed Caroline eagerly. ‘It’s more…well…’
‘Intimate,’ he suggested lazily, and she flushed.
‘Casual,’ she replied, then with a sigh of contentment she continued: ‘Oh, I’m so glad you invited me to come with you today. By the way, how did you find our apartment?’
Adam started the car. ‘Caro, honey, you work for me,’ he answered, and Caroline smiled and nodded. No one else had ever abbreviated her name to ‘Caro’ and she adored it, just as she adored the way he said it.
The drive to his home was smooth and comfortable and very fast. They drove beyond Windsor to a village called Slayford and on the outskirts of the village they turned between the drive gates of a low, modern villa-bungalow. It was a massive place designed on Grecian lines with statuary in the forecourt and a fountain playing into a small pool. The drive swept round the fountain and Adam brought the car to a halt before double glass doors with a wrought iron grille covering the inside. Wide, shallow steps led up to these doors crossing a pillar-supported terrace.
‘Gosh,’ exclaimed Caroline, forestalling Adam as he would have helped her from the car, ‘I never imagined anything like this. It’s quite fabulous.’
‘I’m glad you like it,’ he replied, thrusting his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. ‘I had it built five years ago to my own specifications.’
Drawing out his keys, he opened the doors and they stepped into a pile-carpeted hallway. Caroline’s feet sank deep into the carpet and she stared about her in wonderment. If the mews cottage had been luxurious, this place was doubly so. The warmth of the central heating met you at your entrance while the air was kept fresh by a conditioning system.
The hall was wide and high and a crystal chandelier hung above them. A fan-shaped staircase lay ahead of them leading to the upper regions of the house and everywhere was carpeted in this heather-mixture coloured pile. The walls depicted hunting scenes in hand-painted murals, and Caroline felt sure she would never know which of the numerous doors opening off the hall opened into where.
Then a door at the far end of the hall opened and a middle-aged woman came hurrying through, a spaniel at her heels. The spaniel made a beeline for Adam, barking excitedly and wagging its short tail.
‘Meet Mrs Jones and Nero,’ said Adam, laughing at Caroline. ‘Mrs Jones, this is Miss Sinclair.’
‘How do you do, miss,’ smiled the motherly little woman. ‘And what a surprise this is,’ she exclaimed, looking at Adam indulgently. ‘But it’s very glad we are to see you again, sir. Jones is chopping logs over at the woodshed just now, but he’ll be back directly if you want to see him.’
‘That’s all right, Mrs Jones,’ said Adam, removing his overcoat.
‘The fire is lit in the lounge, just in case you wanted it,’ went on Mrs Jones. ‘If you’d like to go in there I’ll bring you some tea just as soon as the kettle boils.’
Mrs Jones was round and fat and jolly, and Caroline took an immediate liking to her. As for Nero, he was a bundle of mischief and pranced round them as they entered the lounge. A big log fire burned in the grate and the room looked cosily inviting. Here the carpet changed to moss green while the low couches and armchairs were upholstered in dark red brocade. The wide windows overlooked the rear of the house where green lawns stretched down to a large swimming pool which had been emptied for the winter. Beyond the pool were tennis courts, but Adam drew the rich curtains across the windows as it was already quite dark, and switched on a tall standard lamp, thus curtailing Caroline’s gaze.
‘This is the only room in the house where there is an open fire,’ he remarked as she seated herself on one of the couches near the fire. ‘It’s simply that I enjoy seeing a real fire now and again.’
‘Oh, so do I,’ agreed Caroline, a sense of well-being stealing over her.
Adam came to sit beside her, and Caroline wondered whether he had any idea of the effect he had on her. She thought gloomily that he probably considered her simply as a rather nice child to whom he was giving a treat.
He stretched out his legs towards the blaze lazily and smiled at her.
‘This is the life,’ he remarked, lighting two cigarettes and handing her one. ‘Away from big business, trusts, high finance, land speculation…’ He groaned and closed his eyes.
Caroline smiled, looking intently at him. It was hard to conceive that on this man the livelihoods of several hundred employees rested. Just how many people depended upon his judgement? The Steinbeck Building housed a lot of different companies all owned by the Steinbeck Corporation and each one relied to a certain extent on Adam Steinbeck. He was the chairman of the board, he had the deciding vote if such a thing was necessary and he was responsible if there were any mistakes. She wished she had the courage to move closer to him and massage his temples. Aunt Agnes used to like her to do that; she said it soothed away all her tension.
Suddenly there was a tap at the door and Mrs Jones entered with a tray of tea, sandwiches and hot homemade scones.
Adam opened his eyes and sat up reluctantly. ‘Thank you, Mrs Jones. Do you think we could have dinner at about seven-thirty?’
‘Surely,’ she replied with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Now, you have a nice hot scone, and ring if you want more tea.’
‘Bless you,’ said Adam, and Mrs Jones chuckled as she went out.
Nero, who had settled himself in front of the fire also, now smelt food and Caroline allowed him to eat some of her sandwiches.
‘You’ll make him fat,’ remarked Adam with a grin. ‘He’s been badly spoiled by the Joneses.’
Caroline shrugged. ‘I know…but his eyes positively implore for more. He’s very persuasive and very lovable.’
‘Lucky Nero,’ said Adam rather dryly, and drank his tea.
When they had finished with the tray, Caroline placed it on the table near the door.
‘Ought I to take it through?’ she offered anxiously. She wasn’t used to having everything done for her in such a manner, pleasant though it might be.
‘No,’ he drawled lazily.