Desire For Revenge

‘Joshua Howard!’ Sarah was impressed. There could be few people in the journalistic or publishing world who would not be at the mention of his name. Although only in his early thirties he had a formidable reputation in the media world.

From being a foreign correspondent with The Times he had gone on to write several stunningly successful ‘faction’ novels based on some of the events he had covered during his years as a reporter.

To Sarah’s knowledge at least one of them had been made into a film, and in view of all this it struck her as rather odd that such a famous and surely wealthy man should be content to take a job as editor with such a small, albeit prestigious, firm as Leichner & Holland.

‘Of course, he isn’t coming is as editor,’ Rachel confided. ‘I know you know that the firm’s been having a few financial problems recently—the new Cartwright novel bombed for one thing, and the legal department is still trying to get back that advance we paid to Wayne Johnson.’

Sarah did know. The loss of the massive advance paid to Wayne Johnson the pop singer who had begun his meteoric career in the early sixties, had been a bitter blow to the firm. After over twelve months when the pop singer had still not produced a single chapter of his life story Steven had decided to try to get their advance back. That had been six months ago, and he was still not having success.

Steven had explained much of this to her when he had promoted her, telling her that he hoped a line of literature aimed specifically at the female end of the market might improve their fortunes, but new lines took time to develop and time, it seemed from what Rachel was telling her now, was something the firm simply did not have.

‘Theoretically Joshua is just coming in as Editor in Chief,’ she confided to Sarah, ‘but in reality he’s investing pretty heavily in the firm. Steven’s still the owner and major shareholder of course; the Leichner line has pretty well died out, and neither of Steven’s daughters want to come into the business, so I suspect that he intends grooming Joshua to take over from him when he eventually retires. You know that Joshua brought his first manuscript to Steven before he became well known?’

‘Yes, I do.’

There could be few publishers as morally altruistic as her boss, Sarah reflected, recalling what he had told her, because he had recognised the book as a winner from the very first, but he had also known that his small publishing enterprise did not have the resources to promote the book as it needed to be promoted to ensure the world-wide success it deserved, and so he had recommended that Joshua try another publishing house, and had given the manuscript his own written commendation as well as giving Joshua an introduction to the American firm which had eventually published his work.

It was rather heartwarming to think that his kindness and generosity was now being repaid by Joshua Howard, and without having met him, Sarah felt herself warm to him.

‘What’s he like?’ she asked Rachel curiously, ‘I’ve never seen him.’

In response Rachel rolled her eyes heavenwards and sighed. ‘Fantastic…and his smile is just so sexy that it made my bones melt.’

She saw Sarah’s disbelieving expression, and grinned. ‘Okay, don’t believe me, but just wait until you’ve seen him. Tall, dark, handsome… Believe me he’s got the lot and a body that—’

‘Okay, okay! I think I get the picture. But does Brian know that you—’

She broke off as Rachel grimaced and then grinned. Brian was Rachel’s fiancé, a pleasant, tow-haired young man with a steady placid nature that nicely balanced Rachel’s more extrovert, dizzy personality.

‘Seriously, his personality seems to be just as good as his looks,’ Rachel told her. ‘He’s no James Richards, but I don’t think he’s the type to suffer fools gladly either. He doesn’t seem to hold any sexist views, but I don’t see him as the type to make any special allowances for us females, just because we are females if you know what I mean…’

With a sinking heart Sarah reflected that she did. Steven, for instance, if she told him about the problems she was having with David Randal, would sympathise with her and try to find some way of alleviating the problem, but to turn to Steven meant going over the head of the Senior Editor, which simply was not done. She had not gone to James Richards for help or advice because she knew he would only gloat over her dilemma, and she had been hoping that the new person, whoever that might be, might be someone more understanding. The trouble was that the whole problem was fraught with embarrassment and difficulty… To explain it in full meant explaining her own virginal state, which was something she was extremely reluctant to do. The easiest answer would be to get rid of her virginity, she reflected rather wryly, but at the moment that was easier said than done, since she had no current male friend. There had been opportunities at university, but she had found the work there so taxing and strenuous, and she had been so determined to repay Jane and Ralph for the financial support they were giving her, by getting a first-class degree, that there had been no time for boyfriends.

Afterwards there had been the initial struggle to get work; followed by the realisation that her degree did not really equip her for any particular job, meaning that she had had to work at night to get her secretarial qualifications. All in all there had been scant time for romantic involvements.

Despite her inexperience, Sarah was no fool. She knew quite well that it was the lure of her virginity as much as anything that attracted David to her. Without that… She also suspected it would not be much longer before he stopped asking and started demanding. She half suspected he would even go to the length of actually threatening her. He had hinted as much once or twice already. Even though she personally did not like the work he produced, it did earn money—money which the firm obviously badly needed at the present time. Once David started threatening to take his work elsewhere unless she gave in to him, what was she going to do? And Sarah knew it was only a matter of time before he did make that threat. She had already seriously damaged his ego, she knew that; and he was small-minded enough to want to make her pay for that.

‘You’re shivering…are you all right?’

Rachel’s anxious query brought her back to reality.

‘It’s this icy wind,’ she fibbed. ‘London seems so cold at the moment.’

‘Mmm… Spring’s just round the corner, although you’d never guess it. Doing anything interesting this weekend?’

‘I’m going down to my sister’s. We’re all going to a fancy dress ball—a local charity “do”, and rather grand…’ She pulled a slight face and Rachel laughed.

‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic. What are you going as?’

‘I don’t know. Jane’s organising our costumes.’

In point of fact she wasn’t particularly looking forward to the ball, but Jane had told her that the invitation had come from someone very influential locally, who was also a possible client for Ralph’s business, and she had asked Sarah to support her and go with them.

‘I’m scared out of my wits, that I might do the wrong thing,’ she had confided over the ‘phone, ‘and I need my clever little sister by my side to give me confidence.’

In the face of that, there was little that Sarah could do other than agree to go, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon she was quite busy. Steven made his announcement about James Richards’ successor at half past four, and Sarah was slightly surprised to learn that Joshua Howard was actually coming into the office on Monday before he was due to begin working there. It seemed that James had demanded to be released from the usual notice period.

Sarah left the office at just gone five. Her suitcase was already packed and all she had to do was to get back to her small flat, shower and change, and then take a taxi to the station.

Ralph would pick her up in Gloucester. It was a routine which had been perfected over the eighteen months Sarah had worked for Leichner & Holland, and one which was now comfortably familiar.

By the time she arrived the triplets would be in bed, asleep, but they would be the first thing in the morning to wake her up—three boisterous and lovable four-year-olds whom Sarah secretly adored.

The three children—two boys and a girl—had been conceived by her sister after only a few months on a fertility drug when she had reached her early thirties with no sign of the child she and Ralph so desperately wanted. Jane had been over the moon, not at all fazed by the information that her doctor suspected that she was carrying more than one child, although up until the last moment no one had guessed the anticipated twins would be triplets. Her sister had a blissfully secure and happy life but no one could deserve it more than Jane. She and Ralph had both been so marvellous to her when Mum and Dad had been killed.

Her journey went smoothly. She found Ralph waiting for her when the train pulled in, his burly form instantly recognisable. He looked more like a farmer than a computer expert, Sarah reflected, returning his warm hug with enthusiasm.

‘How is everyone?’ she asked as they walked through the darkness to his waiting Range Rover.

‘Fine. All dying to see you. Jane’s been in a bit of a tizz this last week about the ball. She’s managed to hire costumes for all of us and I’ve told her there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘I expect she’s worried because she knows how important this contract is to you,’ Sarah suggested, as she fastened her seat-belt.

‘Mmm…I’m seeing Tom Merryweather tomorrow morning. I’m hoping he might give me a decision then. If he does, we’ll push the boat out in style tomorrow night.’

They chatted in a casual fashion as Ralph drove along the familiar roads. Sarah had been brought up in this part of the world and knew it well. She also felt a deep sense of inner peace when she returned here and often wished it was possible for her to stay, but she had her living to earn, and at twenty-five she was far too young, or so Jane claimed, to settle for the stagnation of a country life.

Sarah was not deceived. Jane clucked as anxiously over her lack of menfriends as any mother hen, and Sarah knew that her sister was longing for the day she came home with a fiancé on her arm.

Her sister didn’t wait for them to go inside to greet them. She came runing out of the house the moment the Range Rover turned into the Vicarage’s overgrown drive. Ralph and Jane had only recently moved into their present house. Renovating and furnishing it was going to be a labour of love for both of them, and when they had finished Sarah knew they would have a home they could be justly proud of. At the moment, though, all was chaos. Ralph was doing most of the minor work himself, and since this took time, the back garden seemed constantly to resemble a builder’s yard.

The Vicarage was early eighteenth century and had a substantial garden. There was even a small paddock for ponies for the children later if they required them.

‘Come on inside, you must be shattered after the journey,’ Jane commanded, hugging Sarah quickly as she got out of the Range Rover.

‘Oh, yes indeed,’ Sarah grinned. ‘It took all of two hours or so and at my time of life…’

‘Oh, you know what I mean… Come on I’ve just made some fresh coffee. It seems ages since we last saw you. I want to hear everything that’s been going on.’

‘Well, if you two are going to gossip, I’m off to my study,’ Ralph announced as he carried Sarah’s cases into the large shabby hall. ‘I’ll take these up first for you, Sarah. You’re in your usual room.’

‘But this time you’ll have your own bathroom,’ Jane told her with a grin. ‘Ralph finished converting that old dressing room off your bedroom last week. It looks fantastic.’ She raised herself on tiptoe to kiss her husband’s cheek, and watching them Sarah was conscious of a small piercing sensation of aloneness. What was wrong with her? She had never envied her sister her marital happiness before, why should she start doing so now?’

‘Come on sit down and tell me what’s making you look so miserable,’ Jane commanded, when they were installed in the large, homely kitchen.

Modernising the kitchen had been Ralph’s first priority when they moved in and he had done a marvellous job on it, Sarah reflected, studying the smooth richness of the dark oak kitchen cupboards with their antiqued tile worktops. From the original beams, which he had uncovered and retained, hung a various assortment of herbs and set into one wall was Jane’s pride and joy—an ancient black-leaded fireplace complete with bread oven. On the wall in which the fireplace was set Ralph had exposed the original brickwork, and an assortment of brass pans now decorated it—all original antiques that Jane had cleverly found in local shops. A large, well-scrubbed and very old table took pride of place in the centre of the room, and it was on this that Jane placed their mugs of coffee as she pulled out chairs for them both, and passed a plate of home-made biscuits in Sarah’s direction.