Free Comparative Strangers by Sara Craven Page A

breaking off with Nigel, and the resulting publicity.
    ‘Another reporter rang up only yesterday,’ had been Mrs Conroy’s parting shot. ‘Asking if you and that man had set the date yet. I told him I hadn’t the least idea.’
    Amanda had been left staring in a startled way at the receiver. The newspapers weren’t ready yet to relinquish their grip on the story, it seemed, and this depressed her.
    As she drove with Malory to the big country hotel where the dinner dance was being held, she said abruptly, ‘The press have been on to my mother, asking when we’re going to be married.‘
    ‘They phoned me, too.’ He didn’t seem perturbed, she noted crossly.
    ‘So, what did you tell them?’
    ‘That we were making no announcement at present.‘ He paused. ’That seemed to cover a variety of possibilities.‘
    ‘I suppose so.’ Amanda sighed. ‘I hoped they’d have decided to leave us alone by now’
    He said drily, ‘How very optimistic’ He slanted a glance at her. ‘Are you really so desperate to be free of all this?’
    ‘Of course. I want to find another job—build a new life for myself.’ She knew she sounded defensive. ‘Isn’t that natural?’
    ‘Perfectly. But I’m afraid, for the time being, you’ll just have to be patient.’ He sounded bored. ‘In fact, we both will.’
    Amanda said a subdued, ‘Yes,’ and relapsed into silence.
    He was in an odd mood this evening, she thought, stealing a covert, sideways glance at him. He’d adher dress, but courteously, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Perhaps he was tired, too, of all this pretence, and longing to return to normality, and his civilised, rather solitary existence.
    Or perhaps, she thought later, he’d merely been thinking what lay in store for them that evening.
    Her mouth ached with smiling, and her fingers were sore from some of the over-enthusiastic handshaking she’d been subjected to as she stood at Malory’s side in the receiving line. And the worst of it was, everyone seemed so genuinely pleased for them both, unstinting in their good wishes.
    He has no right to put me through all this, Amanda fulminated silently.
    She glanced up and saw him watching her, his gaze ironic, as if he’d guessed what she was thinking. And, of course, he had every right. After all, she had created this entire mess single-handed. She’d involved him in the kind of notoriety he most abhorred. The least she could do was stand by him tonight.
    She bit her lip. And for as long as it took…
    She could comfort herself with the reflection that she was looking good. She could see it in the eyes of the men she was introduced to. They envied Malory, and the knowledge warmed her. It occurred to her that, when she’d been out with Nigel, she’d been the one who was envied.
    And she seemed to be passing muster with the women, too. She’d overheard a snatch of converin the powder-room.
    ‘It seemed so unlike him,’ someone was saying to a friend. ‘But she’s lovely looking, isn’t she? You can understand him losing his head over her.’
    The friend’s reply was indistinguishable, but seemed to be in broad agreement.
    If only you knew! Amanda thought.
    At dinner, she found herself stationed next to one of Malory’s chief chemists, a pleasant-faced young man with thinning hair and a ready smile. They talked generalities for a while, then she asked him about his work and saw his face brighten.
    Among other things, he told her, they were working on a drug called Chromazyn, which they hoped would relieve arthritis sufferers.
    ‘It’s something I feel strongly about’ he said. ‘I had a grandmother I adored, and she was nearly crippled with arthritis during her last years. I want Chromazyn to work for her sake, I suppose. A few doctors have started to prescribe it already, monitored by us, of course, in case of side-effects. But, so far, it seems to be going well. I’m surprised Malory hasn’t told you about it.’ He grinned at her. ‘But I