Night Of Shame

Judith waited for her to go on, unable to trust herself to speak. The feeling of foreboding was fierce within her heart.

‘Last Easter,’ the girl began at last, ‘Simon came down to stay at the farm for a few days. Alex had to work most of the time and I...well, it fell to me mostly to entertain Simon.

‘It wasn’t Simon’s fault. Really and truly. I threw myself at him and he...well...I knew he didn’t really love me, that it was just...you know. But I didn’t care. I was mad about him. I even told him it was safe. I had this silly idea that you couldn’t get pregnant the first time. By the time I realised I was, I knew there was no chance between Simon and me. He’d been gone for weeks and hadn’t answered any of my letters. Then Alex got a note saying he’d met this great girl and was going to marry her...’

Karen looked wretched and Judith just stared at her.

She was not feeling what she should be. She was not shocked over Simon’s less than gallant conduct, just increasingly terrified of hearing what she feared would come next. Her expression must have revealed some of her turmoil for Karen rose and came forward and took her hand in a gesture of sympathy.

‘I’m truly sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I know this must be hurting you, but I have to make you understand. I have to know.’

‘Go on,’ said Judith coldly, drawing her hand away. No one warmed to the bearer of ill tidings.

‘I had an abortion,’ came her reluctant admission. ‘An aunt of mine in Sydney helped without telling the rest of the family, but when I came home I had a type of nervous breakdown. Everyone tried to find out what was wrong but I never told them.

‘Then the invitation to your wedding came and Alex thought it would cheer me up to go. I couldn’t cope with that and refused to come. The night before Alex left to come here he tried to persuade me again. I’m afraid I became hysterical and told him the truth.

‘I’ll never forget the look on his face. It was horrible. I tried explaining that Simon wasn’t to blame but he didn’t believe me. Alex is not one to forget or forgive. I knew he’d do something awful, and he did, didn’t he? Simon’s dead...’

All the blood had drained from Judith’s face. Karen’s words were almost too distressing to contemplate, the truth behind them starkly plain for Judith to see. Alexander had used her, used her to gain revenge. Maybe he wasn’t a murderer in the literal sense of the word, but he was very definitely to blame for the circumstances leading up to Simon’s death. She could well have understood his beating Simon up, but to involve an innocent party...

Innocent? How could she call herself that? She hadn’t been innocent. She’d allowed herself to be seduced, had wallowed in the moments of betrayal almost as much as Alexander had. Even poor dead Simon could not claim total innocence. He should have protected his friend’s kid sister, not slept with her.

The only true innocent in all this was the girl standing in front of her, who could be no more than seventeen. She didn’t deserve to suffer any more. Judith knew her own life was destroyed. She could not destroy Karen’s further.

‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ the girl pleaded. ‘Tell me Alex wasn’t in any way to blame for Simon’s death. I’ve been so afraid.’

Judith gathered all her mental and emotional strength. ‘Let me assure you, Karen,’ she lied staunchly, ‘that Alexander had nothing to do with Simon’s death. Simon was entirely at fault. He went joyriding in his own sports car while drunk. He lost control on some gravel on a corner, skidded off the road and crashed into a tree. Alexander had nothing to do with it. He and Simon had been getting along famously all week so Simon must have made him understand what happened where you and he were concerned.

‘For pity’s sake don’t accuse him of anything. Let it go, Karen. Go home and let it go. Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go and get ready to go home too. I have to catch tonight’s train back to Sydney.’

She didn’t wait to see the relief in the girl’s face, walking back inside like some half-charged robot. She went upstairs to her room, where she sat down and wrote to Alex, telling him she was sorry but she knew they would never find happiness after Simon’s death and she didn’t want to see him ever again.

It wasn’t till much later that she realised what a futile gesture it had been. She’d thought she was protecting Karen at the time, but of course Alexander would never have come after her. The only thing she’d gained by writing that letter was that she’d started taking control of her life again after being severely out of control since meeting him.

After posting the letter, she’d taken the train back to Sydney that night, quit her job and her shared flat, then accepted the first live-in nursing job she could find. She’d been installed in the Pascoll home within thirty-six hours of arriving at Central Station.

Judith shook herself back to the present, taking some comfort this time not from hugging Peter Panda but from the harsh memories themselves. Remembering what had happened would keep her on her guard against Alexander tonight.

Not that she really had anything to fear. Alex’s own conscience should keep him at bay this time. It would take an especially wicked individual to ignore his own ignominy and act as if it had never happened.

Judith didn’t doubt that Alexander was going to get quite a shock when he saw her tonight. And in a way that gave her a perverse sense of satisfaction. The man should never be allowed to forget what he had done. When he saw her he would be forced to remember. She might even slip in the odd barb or two, make him suffer a little as she had suffered over the years. At the same time she would give the impression that she had well and truly recovered and was on the verge of a superbly happy life.

It would not be easy to put all that across, but she was determined to do it.

But when she placed Peter back on her bed and turned to pick up her tapestry evening purse from her dressing-table she became aware of dozens of black beady eyes following her every movement. For the first time in her life, Judith found no comfort in her friends’ presence. They seemed to be looking at her with worry, not warmth. Peter especially.

‘I’ll be careful,’ she said at last. ‘I promise.’

And, steeling herself, she left the sanctuary of her bedroom and hurried along the hall in the direction of the stairs.

Raymond was already waiting for her at the door, looking a little agitated, probably because she was a few minutes late. His eyes lifted to watch her descent and when her jacket flapped open the shock on his face was evident.

His reaction annoyed her. ‘Don’t you like the way I look?’ she was driven to ask when she joined him.

‘What? Oh, yes...of course.’ He gave her another long, frowning look. ‘You look quite...striking.’

‘Thank you, Raymond,’ she returned coolly, irritated that his admiration had been so slow in coming. If you could call the way he was looking at her admiration. His expression was more like one of troubled speculation. Judith sighed inwardly. She certainly didn’t seem to be finding favour with him tonight.

Not that she could really blame him. She wasn’t being her usual quiet, amenable self, that was for sure.

Feeling suddenly guilty, she linked an affectionate arm through his and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Don’t look so worried,’ she said soothingly. ‘I’ll be nice to Margaret tonight, and I promise I won’t make a scene with Mr Fairchild.’

Raymond relaxed a little and patted her hand. ‘Thank God for that. I’m having important business dealings with the man and I wouldn’t like anything to interfere with them.’

Important business dealings?

Judith blinked her confusion. Raymond’s business was a large frozen food company inherited from his father, it’s main products being vegetables. His life was running this company, and he ran it very profitably. When he’d told Judith about his having to put off a business dinner with Alexander and invite him to the party tonight instead, she’d assumed he was signing him up to supply fresh vegetables. Alexander was, after all, a farmer.

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ she said. ‘What kind of important dealings?’

‘I want to buy some land from him,’ Raymond explained as he opened the front door. ‘I’m going into the crop-growing business myself. It’ll be much cheaper in the long run than buying supplies from various farmers.’

‘You mean you’re buying Alexander’s farm?’

‘What on earth are you talking about, Judith?’

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh, I see. Alexander’s given up farming and gone back into banking.’

Now Raymond was the one who looked puzzled. ‘Banking? Fairchild’s no banker. He’s in real estate. Owns great tracts of rich land in the Riverina and along the Southern coastline.’

‘But...but...’

‘Come, Judith,’ he said, ushering her out of the door. ‘No more talk of Fairchild. It’s nearly eight. You know how I do so hate to be late. Luckily, I’ve already got the car out.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE night was cold outside. Sydney in August was still nippy, and often windy. Spring was nearly a month away.

Judith shivered as they hurried down the front path and over to the waiting grey Mercedes. It was all very well for Raymond to dismiss Alexander from his mind. Judith’s mind had never been that kind. She’d tried to dismiss him over the last seven years, but had never really succeeded.

Now he’d been forcibly thrust to the forefront of her thoughts again but he wasn’t even the same man she remembered. How on earth had he gone from being a small-time farmer to a high-powered real-estate man in only seven years? It seemed impossible. Unless he’d inherited money.

Or married it...

The thought of Alexander marrying had never occurred to her before, which was crazy. Why shouldn’t he be married? The man was now thirty-two years old.

She ached to ask Raymond if he was aware of Alexander’s marital status, but knew it would be too revealing a question. Her own inner churnings over the matter were revealing enough as it was. Why should she care if he was married or not? She hated the man, didn’t she?