She didn't care any more
how betraying her admission might be. She didn't even care about the level, glinting look Dominic gave her as she turned to plead with her father. All she cared about was getting out of the intimate, pretty atmosphere of the restaurant and escaping from the knowledge that being in the same room as Dominic at this particular moment in time was more than she could bear.
She saw her father frown, but as though he sensed her desperation he agreed calmly, 'Well, if that's what you want… I must admit I'm never too happy about leaving your mother for very long.'
He went across to explain the change in plans to the owner, and paid for Christy's drink, and as they walked out into the raw, cold afternoon Christy wondered a little at the savagely comprehensive contempt she had seen in Dominic's eyes as he watched her go.
'Phone call for you, Christy.'
Her heart thumped as she walked through into the hall. She had told herself she was behaving crazily, and that Dominic was hardly likely to be telephoning her, especially since she knew from seeing him in Newcastle three days ago that he was obviously dating Amanda, but even so, the flutters in her stomach didn't settle until she spoke into the receiver and heard Meryl's familiar voice answering her.
'Meryl! But…'
'I'm sorry to disturb you, Christy, but I desperately need your help. David is due to fly out to Hollywood in a couple of days, and you know what he's like. It's panic, panic, panic, and now I can't seem to find the manuscript for Fathers and Daughters. He swears that it should be filed with all the others, but it isn't there, and you know how impossible he can be when he gets into one of his moods. He wants to take it with him, because it seems the Americans might be interested, and you're my last hope.'
In spite of her own misery Christy grinned to herself. David's methods of filing were notorious, as were the moods he flew into whenever anyone dared to criticise or complain about his lack of proper methods.
'Well, I can't think of anywhere offhand. Have you tried the pending file? Or the one marked "M"?'
'M?' Meryl queried.
'For mistakes,' Christy informed her with another grin.
'I've looked everywhere, and I'm at my wits' end.'
She sounded it, and Christy felt a surge of sympathy for her.
'Look, I know it's an awful imposition, but I was wondering if you could possibly come down. We could put you up overnight, and you could go through the files with me. You know what a calming effect you always have on David. At this moment in time I'd happily file him under "M" myself. "M" for monster,' she added feelingly.
'Oh, Meryl, I'm afraid I can't.'
There was an unhappy silence that made her feel extremely uncomfortable, and then her father, who had walked out into the hall queried, 'Can't what?'
'Can't go to London,' Christy told him, covering the receiver. 'Meryl can't find one of David's plays, and she wanted me to go down there and give her a hand.'
'Nonsense. Of course you can go. Do you good, if you ask me,' her father added vigorously. 'You need a break. Besides, you'll be able to get yourself something for this Grand Ball.'
Christy frowned. She could hardly explain to her father or to Meryl why she didn't want to see David again. She gnawed at her bottom lip and then heard Meryl asking anxiously if they had been cut off.
'No… no, I'm still here.'
'Look, Christy, I hate to pressure you, but I really do need your help. You've no idea what it's like down here! David is driving me mad… and besides…' her voice seemed to fade away a little and then rallied again as she said with a false brightness that cut Christy to the heart, 'I don't need to pretend with you. I suspect that he's deep in the throes of a new affair, and it's making him more unbearable than ever.'
While her heart went out to Meryl, Christy couldn't help thinking that if she was right—and Meryl knew her husband very well indeed—then she herself need have no fears about seeing David.
'Well, if you really need me…'
'Oh, you're a darling! When can you come?'
Before she hung up it was arranged that Christy would catch the early morning train from Newcastle the following day, and that she would stay overnight with her old employers before returning home. She was touched almost to tears that evening when her father called her into his study, and after much indecision presented her with an extremely generous cheque which he told her she was to use to buy herself a ballgown. When she protested at his generosity, reminding him feelingly that she had already caused him expense by damaging her mother's car, he told her not to be so silly, adding bracingly, 'Besides, you've got the honour of Setondale to uphold, you know. Can't have our local girl being outshone by an incomer!'
Christy laughed, but she didn't have the heart to tell her parent that, generous though his cheque was, it would hardly buy her a dress that could compete with the Emanuel outfit with which Amanda was planning to dazzle them.
To save her father having to get up early, she ordered a taxi to take her to Newcastle for the early morning train. When her alarm went off at four, she groaned, and went through the motions of getting washed and dressed, feeling like a zombie. She didn't feel much better when she eventually got on the train and eschewed the dining car, to curl up and catch up on her shortened sleep in the comfort of her seat in the first class section. It was a welcome surprise to discover that Meryl had come to the station to meet her.
'You shouldn't have bothered,' Christy protested, when she had disengaged herself from her welcoming hug. 'I could easily have made my own way to Wimbledon, and you must have a hundred and one things to do.'
'A thousand and one,' Meryl agreed ruefully, 'but I needed the luxury of a familiar shoulder to cry on.' She acknowledged Christy's comprehensive look with a wry smile. 'Oh, don't feel sorry for me; after all, I stay with him by choice, but there are times when I wonder if I'm just a fool, or a masochist. I tell myself that deep down there somewhere he loves me.'