Sally Wentworth - Liberated Lady Read online

  Another car drew up at the pumps and the man went away to serve while Sara took a closer look at the damage. She gave a sigh of vexation. She wasn't going any further in. that today, that was for sure.

  A languid voice behind her said, 'Having a spot of trouble?'

  Sara squared’ her shoulders and turned; she rather thought she'd recognise that voice anywhere now. 'Someone backed into, my car,’ she told Alex Brandon.

  She watched his face carefully, ready to let fly at the slightest hint of amusement or triumph, but his features were completely enigmatical as he, too, examined the damage. 'Hm. I'm afraid that's going to take some time to repair,’ he remarked as he looked back at her. 'What are you going to do?'

  Her eyes challenged his as she said coldly, 'I'm going to leave this here and hire another one, of course.'

  But he merely nodded and sauntered back to his own vehicle. Sara gazed at his broad back for a moment, slightly baffled by his nonchalance. Then she shrugged it off and went over to the repair section to make arrangements for the car to be mended, then over to yet another office to hire a car. Twenty, minutes later she walked back to the petrol pumps, more slowly this time.

  Alex Brandon was still there, parked out of the way ' of the other vehicles, leaning against his car and smoking a cigarette. With a stab of pure envy, Sara saw that he had a silver-grey Aston Martin that couldn't have cost a penny under ten thousand pounds. He straightened as she walked reluctantly towards him, and ground out his cigarette.

  'Why are you still here?' she demanded as she began to take her belongings from her car.

  'Have you forgotten? I'm supposed to be following you. Where's the new car?'

  'I couldn't get one she admitted, reluctantly. 'It seems the men who service them are on strike and there won't be any available until tomorrow.'

  He raised an eyebrow. 'So?'

  'So I'll try and get a lift,' she retorted as she lugged her case out of the boot and slammed it shut.

  Shaking his head in reproof, Alex Brandon said in a remonstrating voice, 'Hasn't anybody ever told you not to take lifts from strange men? Anything might happen—-before you have a chance to demonstrate what type of woman you are, that is.'

  'You offered me a lift and there aren't many men stranger than you,' she flashed back.

  'But at least you know me.'

  'You mean, better the devil you know than the devil you don't.'

  'And you know that I wouldn't touch you with a barge pole,' he added with a definitely malicious note in his tone.

  Sara glared at him, wishing him everything under the sun, but her glance went past him to the sleek lines of that lovely, lovely car. 'All right,' she said ungraciously, 'I'll come with you.'

  'Please, Alex.'

  'What?'

  'Say, please, Alex,' he commanded laconically."

  Her temper overflowing at that, Sara yelled at him, 'Why the hell should I? If it hadn't been for your scheming nephew I wouldn't be chasing all over the country like this. And if you think I'm going to grovel to you, you're crazy! I'd rather get a lift from the randiest lorry driver on the motorway than go with you. You're the most arrogant, conceited…' But her words were lost as he started to get in his car and shut the door. 'Oh, hell!' Sara stamped her foot on the ground and clenched her teeth. 'Oh all right. Please, please, please! There—does that satisfy you?'

  "Alex," he insisted.

  She snorted, then snapped out, 'Alex.'

  'It could have been said with better grace, but I sup. pose that's the best one can hope for coming from a termagant like you.' He came round and Opened the boot to put her case in and she noticed that he, too, had brought an overnight bag.

  Still smarting with humiliation, Sara got into the passenger seat of the sumptuous sports car.

  'Fasten your seat belt,' he ordered as he pulled away.

  'Why? Are you such a bad driver?'

  He stopped the car. 'Look, let's get one thing straight from the beginning, shall we?' he said tersely, a contemptuous look in his hard grey eyes. 'I don't like having to be thrown in your company any more than you like being in mine, but if we have to be together then for God's sake let's stop this everlasting bickering and behave like rational human beings. I don't know how you get your kicks, but personally I don't see any point in being at each other's throats all the time. We both want the same thing in the long run, which is the best for our respective charges with the least hurt and tin-happiness, so let's try and call a truce, or bury the hatchet, or whatever cliché seems to fit, until all this is over, shall we?'

  Sara looked at him for long seconds as he sat so dose beside her, his arm touching her own. He was looking at her steadily, one eyebrow raised in interrogation. Sitting back with a sigh, she said flatly, 'Yes, I suppose so,' and began to fasten her safety strap.

  He started off again and when they were back on the motorway and zipping up the outside lane, Sara said rather stiffly, 'I'm sorry if I shouted at you back there; I was rather upset about my car.'

  After giving her a quick glance, he said, 'Is it your own?'

  'No, it's the company's thank goodness, but they're bound to be annoyed that I didn't get the van driver’s number.'

  His voice devoid of expression, he said, 'I shouldn't worry, it happens all the time.' He paused. 'Do we stay on the motorway all the way?'

  'Oh, no, we turn off on to the M6. But I talked to a garage attendant who said he saw a girl like Nicky travelling with a boy, and they got a lift as far as Rugby, so perhaps we ought to stop there and ask again.'

  'Okay. Put the radio or cassette player on if you want some music.'

  'It won't disturb you ?'

  He shook his head. 'No.'

  Sara selected a cassette and inserted it in the player and for some time they drove without speaking. He drove well, she noticed; his strong hands holding the wheel of the powerful car under iron control, driving up to the limit and flashing past the slower cars, but never taking any chances, always having mastery of the road. At length he said, 'I've left my cigarettes in my jacket. Get them for me, please, would you, Sara?'

  So they were to be on first name terms, were they? 'Have one of mine! she said deliberately, taking a packet from her bag. 'And you must let me know the cost of the petrol so that I can go halves with you.' She pressed in the lighter on the dashboard and then passed the lit cigarette to him.

  As he took it from her she had the impression that his lips twitched in amusement, but he merely said, 'Of course! and pulled on the cigarette. .

  At the service area before the turn-off for the M6, they both got out, Sara to check that the runaways weren't by some chance still in the coffee shop, Alex to question the garage attendants to see if he could find out anything.

  'They got a lift all right, but the chap didn't know how far it was going. He said he thought he remembered Stoke-on-Trent on the side of the lorry, but he couldn't be sure. Alex told her when he came back to the car. 'Look, don't you think it's about time you told me where they're headed? I promise not to leave yon' stranded if you do,’ he added with a wry twist to his mouth.

  Sara flushed slightly. 'Nicky's godmother, Veronica Quinlan, lives in the Lake District. The nearest town of any size is Keswick.’

  'Keswick.’ He picked up a road atlas. ‘The M6 goes nearly all the way.’ After glancing at his watch, he began, 'I think we'd better have…' then paused. 'Or rather, I suggest we have lunch now and then push-on until we find them. How does that suit you?'

  Sara looked-at him for a moment and then, to Alex's surprise, she laughed, her brown eyes dancing with amusement. 'It suits me fine.’

  She went to get out of the car again, but he-put out . a hand to stop her, an arrested expression in his eyes. 'What's so funny?'

  The laughter still in her face, she replied, 'You, trying to make allowances for Women's Lib. Are you always so autocratic?'

  'Most women seem to like the masterful type.'

  Sara wrinkled her nose. 'Not women—d
oormats!’

  After a light lunch they headed north again.

  'We have a choice of heading straight for Nicky's god: mother's and waiting for them there, or of looking for them on the way,’ Alex remarked. 'At least we know that they're on this road, but if they're travelling in a lorry we could quite easily overtake them.’

  'Yes, I know. I suppose the sensible thing would be to go straight there, but I hate to think of them being stuck somewhere trying to get a lift when we're so near.’

  'Mm. Tell you what, we're going to have to stop for petrol somewhere along the road anyway, so why don't we head for Stoke and ask again there? If we hear nothing of them, then we'll head for the Lake District.'

  Sara readily agreed and they went on with a more relaxed atmosphere between them. Presently she said, 'This is a beautiful car. Is it your own?’

  "Sort of. It's officially down as belonging to the company, but as I, own the company I suppose that makes it mine.'

  'What kind of work do you do?'

  He overtook a noisy juggernaut before replying, 'It's a software firm. In other words I sell brainpower. When large organisations want to go over to computers they need a team of experts to advise them on programming; I gather together the right, men with the right experience and send them along.'

  'I'm impressed,' Sara remarked truthfully, knowing just how complex the computer world could be.

  'Don't be. It's just something I happen to be trained to do, and I was lucky enough to have some capital left to me so that I could start the firm. I don't go on field work myself much now, unless it's a very important job—computerising the New York stock exchange or something—otherwise I just stay home and organise. How about you? Howdid you get into your job?'

  Sara shrugged slightly. 'By the back door. I started out as a secretary and only began doing copywriting when someone was away ill and they were stuck for staff. Then I went to evening classes and took the CAM Certificate.'

  ‘CAM?'

  'Sorry, it stands for Communication, Advertising and Marketing. After that I progressed gradually up. the ladder and I'm now an account director—that's a person who liaises between "the agency and the advertise? clients.'

  'Sounds as if you might have to be a bit of a diplomat.'

  'It can be a very fraught role, trying to keep the customer happy and sort out the aggro,' she admitted, remembering more than one prickly customer who always made trouble. 'But it's fun too, because you have an enormous range of people working within the agency, all with different skills and personalities, and you have to dovetail them together, form them into a team, as well as coordinate all the agency services: market research, media planning and production.' She stopped, aware that she was running on. "But I'm sure you don't want a lecture on the joys of advertising.'

  'You make it sound interesting. I've always imagined it to be a rather cut-throat industry where everyone sat around' either drawing cartoon characters or making up jingles and slogans all day.'

  With a rather twisted smile, Sara said, 'Most people do tend to think that way, and a lot of that kind of thing does come into it, but it's a very small part in relation to the whole. Don't you use advertising in your company?'

  Alex shook his head. 'Never needed to. We've always been recommended by satisfied customers so far.' He paused, then, 'You're very keen on your work.' It was a statement, not a question.

  ‘I have to be, it's my living. We don't all have rich relations who leave us enough to be independent, Mr Brandon.' There was a distinct note of bitterness in Sara's voice.

  He shot her a glance. 'No, we don't, which is why it's up to the people who do to provide employment for those less fortunate, so that we all get a slice of the cake,' he replied evenly. Then, when she didn't answer, 'But you said that your sister was an heiress, didn't you?'

  'Yes, her. father—my stepfather—left the money in trust for her. It's to be hers when she's twenty-five, or before that if she marries .with my blessing.'

  'I see.'

  'Do you?'

  'Oh, yes, I think so. It explains why you're so against Nicky marrying, of course, and also why you're so bitter about inherited cash.'

  'Sara turned to glare at him. 'That's a rotten thing to say! I don't envy Nicky her money. I just don't want to see her waste it—that and her life.'

  'It's her life and her money. What right have you got to dictate to her how she should spend either?'

  Sitting back in her seat, Sara stared fixedly ahead. 'You wouldn't understand even if I told you.'

  'Try me.'

  Taking the packet from her bag, she said, 'Do you want another cigarette?' and when he 'nodded, lit them up. 'How much further is it to Stoke?' she asked when she'd .passed one to him.

  'Changing the subject, Sara?' he asked quietly.

  'I should have thought that was obvious to the meanest intelligence, let alone to a computer expert.'

  'Why don't you want to talk about it?'

  'Because my life is none of your business. We just happen to have the same interests at the moment, but that's as far as it goes. You keep out of my affairs and I'll more than willingly keep out of yours, Mr Brandon,' she remarked caustically.

  'Alex,' he reminded her, apparently unperturbed by her outburst. 'And I agree with you, your affairs' he stressed the word, 'are your own concern.'

  Sara got his meaning immediately and stared at him angrily. Of all the insufferable men to have got mixed up with! She could only wish fervently that they would soon catch up with Nicky and get the whole thing sorted out, because if she never had to see Alex Brandon again, it would be far too soon!

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was at Stoke that they ran into a snag because at first they were unable to find any trace of the young people, but then Sara had the idea of asking the cashier at the pay desk in the coffee shop. When she met Alex in the entrance she was wearing a puzzled frown.

  "What does your Richard look like?' she asked him.

  'Richard? Oh, he's about five feet ten, rather thin with longish brown hair and spectacles. Why?' '

  Sara arched her brows in surprise. 'He's not like you then?'

  'No, not particularly.'

  'He doesn't sound very prepossessing,' she remarked without thinking.

  'Well, your Nicky is hardly a new Brigitte Bardot,' he answered drily. 'Why do you want to know?'

  'The woman at the cash desk said she remembered a young couple who came in only an hour or so ago, just after she came on duty. She was a bit vague on the description’ but she definitely remembered the boy had glasses. She said they asked round for a lift and got one with a van driver who was just leaving. But the odd part is that they asked for a lift to-Buxton. That isn't even on the M6, is it?'

  Alex frowned. 'No, it's not. Let's go back to the car and look at the map.'

  They did so and he had to switch on the courtesy light, the grey skies of the April afternoon becoming even darker as the first few spots of rain began to fall.

  'Buxton. Here it is, almost on the edge of the Peak District. Now why on earth should they be making for there?'

  'Does Richard know anyone who lives in that area?'

  'Not that I know of, although he did go there on a climbing holiday only last year. Perhaps he knows somewhere where he can hole up.' Alex looked at the map a moment longer, then made up his mind. 'Okay, we'll follow them. With any luck we might pick them up in Buxton. It can't be that big a place.'

  But the town, that had once been an inland spa, was bigger than they expected and they had to enquire at several places before Alex struck lucky at a transport cafe. He came hurrying back to the car, his collar up against the now heavy downpour. 'Edale,’ he said as he got back in. ‘The van driver dropped them off here and they used the proprietor's phone to order a taxi to take them to Edale. Seems it's quite popular because it's the start of a walk across the Pennines.'

  He started the engine and the powerful beams of the headlights cut through the driving rain as they
headed up the high slopes of the hills. Sara didn't talk much other than to give him directions when necessary, letting him concentrate on tackling the tricky bends which would have required all his attention in the best of conditions. By the time they pulled up in the centre of Edale it was pitch dark.

  Looking across the street at the lights of a stone-built hotel, Alex said rather exasperatedly, 'Better try there first, I suppose, although it looks beyond Richard's means. Still, they might be able to give us some help about other accommodation.' He turned to Sara. 'There's no point in us both chasing around and getting wet. Why don't you stay In the bar at the hotel until I find them?'

  'I’d rather come along, thanks,' Sara said rather tightly.

  The exasperation in his voice increased. 'Look, I promise I'll come back for you before I talk to them. Anyway, I'm not about to blow my top if we do find them.'

  'Aren't you?" Sara asked drily. 'You haven't struck, me as being the particularly reticent type when it comes to handing out insults and sarcastic remarks, so if you don't mind, I'll come along.'

  'And if I do mind?'

  ‘I’m still coming. Nicky will probably be in a highly emotional state as it is, and I don't want you upsetting her more. She can be quite impossible to handle if she gets hysterical.'

  'Oh, I see. You're merely thinking of the difficulties you might have to put up with. I should have known,' he remarked, his voice heavy with irony.

  'Of course you should,' Sara returned sweetly. 'Why else would I submit myself to another minute of your charming company except for that reason? Now are you going to enquire, or would you rather I did it for you?'

  Alex-gave a rather crooked grin, got out of the warm interior of the car and sprinted across to the hotel. Within ten minutes he was back, but had only a list of local places they could try.

  'The receptionist sold me a local map so we should be able to find them easily enough. Here, you'd better mark the places on the map and we'll go to the nearest first.'

  'What a good idea,' Sara commented admiringly. 'How terribly clever of you to .think of it. I'm sure I'd never have been able to think of anything as brilliant as that!'