A Passionate Affair. Anne Mather

thought it was possible,’ Liz agreed. ‘I guessed you wouldn’t want to come if you were planning to leave early tomorrow morning, but if you’re not . . .’

      ‘Where is the party?’ Cassandra was hesitant. ‘Who’s giving it?’

      ‘I am,’ Liz retorted with a laugh. ‘Everyone seems to be staying in town this weekend, and I thought it was a good idea.’

      ‘Hmm.’ Cassandra was doubtful. Right now, the idea of going to one of Liz’s parties and meeting some of the bright young men she usually had in tow was not appealing. She had had enough of men for the time being, but she could hardly say that to Liz without running into awkward explanations. Besides, perhaps some innocuous company was exactly what she needed to restore her confidence.

      ‘Come on, Cass.’ Liz was persuasive. ‘Isn’t your mother-in-law always telling you you should get out more?’

      ‘Yes,’ Cassandra sighed. ‘All right. Why not? What time?’

      Later that evening, however, preparing to go out to the party, she wished she had not been so malleable. It was a bitterly cold evening, and the snow that had fallen earlier had frozen, making the roads icy and dangerous.

      Deciding what to wear was a problem, too. Liz’s parties were always informal, but the girls she invited generally showed up in very sophisticated gear. Cassandra’s casual clothes were not sophisticated, and her eventual choice was a jumpsuit of olive-green velvet, which would help to keep her warm, as well as looking attractive.

      Liz’s flat was in Knightsbridge, a rather select area, where the rents were far out of Cassandra’s price range. But Liz had a very good job, as well as having a private income from her parents, and money had never been a problem with her.

      The Alfasud’s wheels spun on the slippery road as Cassandra drove across town. Any sudden acceleration caused the tyres to lose purchase, and by the time she reached Carlton Square her arms were aching. There were already a number of cars parked around the snow-covered stretch of turf from which the cul-de-sac got its name, but she managed to squeeze the Alfa between an M.G. and a Mercedes. With a feeling of relief she got out of the car, locked it, and crunched across the frozen ridges of snow to the lighted entrance of Dower Court.

      Liz’s flat was on the first floor of the house. Built in Victorian times, Dower Court had once been a family house, but latterly it had been converted into four flats, each occupying one of the three floors and the basement. In consequence, the flats were large and spacious, and throwing a party in the huge living room was no problem at all.

      Bettina, Liz’s housemaid, opened the door to her ring, and entering the flat Cassandra was surprised anyone had heard her above the din that was going on. A tape deck was vibrating the ceiling, and the constant sound of voices swelled above the throbbing beat of electric guitars. Cassandra had once asked Liz whether her neighbours didn’t object to the noise, but Liz’s airy retort had been that she invited all the neighbours for that very reason, and in consequence no one could reasonably complain.

      Bettina took Cassandra’s coat and handed her a glass of champagne, before leaving her to make her own way into the throng. It was impossible to perform formal introductions when people gathered together in groups, and besides, those nearest the door had turned to see who it was, and Cassandra thankfully recognised a familiar face.