Free Exposure by Evelyn Anthony Page B

the expense account?’
    â€˜Order what you like,’ she said curtly. She knew him in this provocative mood. Like a spoilt child.
    â€˜OK – let’s see – Armagnac,’ he scanned the wine list. ‘The ’68 should be nice. I’ll have that.’
    â€˜And for madame?’ the wine waiter enquired.
    â€˜Nothing, thank you.’ Julia wanted to finish her coffee and go. She had hated the whole evening, and it wasn’t just because of Harold King. Felix returned to the attack.
    â€˜My old man was a wine merchant,’ he announced. ‘He knew a lot about wine, but not a lot about business. All the old bugger left me was a champagne taste on a beer income. Julia, what the hell’s the matter with you?’ He leaned towards her. ‘You’ve been so fucking sour the whole evening. What’s the matter?’
    She stirred her coffee and then put the spoon carefully into the saucer. She looked up at him. ‘You are, Felix. I don’t think I like you very much.’
    Red seeped up his neck and into his face. He said, ‘What is this – some kind of message?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Julia admitted. ‘Look, don’t let’s argue about it. I’ll get the bill.’
    â€˜I haven’t finished my drink,’ he said loudly. ‘Anyway, I think I’d like another one.’
    â€˜Please yourself,’ she said quietly. ‘If you want another you can pay for it.’ She signed the bill and pushed back her chair. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she said.
    â€˜You’ll be lucky,’ Felix snapped. ‘Thanks for a lousy evening.’
    The head waiter came up to her. He had noticed the little scene of friction and the young man scowling at the table as she walked away.
    â€˜I hope you enjoyed your dinner,’ he said.
    â€˜Very much, thank you,’ Julia answered.
    â€˜May I order you a taxi?’
    â€˜I have a car.’ Her wrap was brought and she draped it round her shoulders. Felix hadn’t followed her. Phillipe saw her to the door.
    â€˜Give my regards to Mr Harris,’ he said. ‘I hope he will come and see us soon.’
    â€˜I’ll tell him,’ Julia promised. She couldn’t imagine Ben Harris in a restaurant like Mario’s. Perhaps because she knew so little about him. She didn’t drive home directly. She detoured round Hyde Park and on an impulse headed towards the Embankment. She loved the river at night. Unfortunately, it wasn’t safe to park the car and get out and walk. She didn’t want to go back to the flat. She wanted a little time to think.
    The relationship was changing; it had been happy in the beginning, deeply sexual on both sides, carefree and without ties. Like a passionate friendship. The few years age difference hadn’t seemed significant. Even the disparity in money terms was glossed over. He thought it was a joke to be called her Toy Boy. And she realized, in that pause for introspection, that she had begun indulging him like the spoilt child she chided him for being. But he wasn’t a child, he was an ambitious, selfish, unscrupulous man with a talent for sex.
    Suddenly, foolishly, Julia’s eyes filled up with tears. It couldn’t go on. It was demeaning to both of them. She didn’t love him, she admitted that. But the truth was worse. She didn’t like him any more, and she’d been goaded into saying so that night. It was time to put an end to it. She wiped her wet cheeks and started the engine. When she opened her front door the flat was in darkness. He had gone off somewhere, spending the night with a friend. In the morning he’d turn up and expect her to take him into bed and pretend nothing had happened. It wasn’t the first time he’d taken off. But it would be the last.
    Inside, she kicked off her shoes. She was glad Felix wasn’t there. On an impulse, checking her watch for the first