I’m sure you will,’ he said, going towards the door. He turned to glance back at her. ‘Helen told me that she’s shown you where the dining room is—and dinner is at eight o’clock.’
As he went back down the staircase, Jasper frowned, cross with himself. The trouble was, he admitted to himself, he didn’t feel particularly cool when he was in Ria Davidson’s presence.
After he’d gone, Ria felt rattled. In two or three minutes flat, Jasper Trent had managed to really confuse her. He was so charming and considerate at the interview; now he was acting like a different person. Of course, then it had been in his interests to show her his nicer side because it had been obvious that he was having difficulty in filling the vacant post, and time was running out. But he’d got what he’d wanted and now he was fulfilling his allotted role here—master of the house in every sense.
She wandered over to the window and stared out for a few moments. She could see the boys’ dormitory block quite easily from here—as Jasper had pointed out—and now the area was a hive of activity with boys and parents going in and out with cases and belongings.
She went across to the sink to fill the kettle. Jasper Trent might not feel the need for a cup of tea, she thought, but at this precise moment she was desperate for one.
Ria spent the rest of the afternoon arranging and rearranging her things in the flat and stacking her books into the bookcase. She always had study materials with her—dictionaries and reference books—but was never without a current novel to read before she settled down to sleep at the end of each day.
Later, glancing at the clock, she realized that it was time to get ready for dinner, so, after having a quick shower, she took out her straight, knee-length black pencil skirt and cream lacy top from the wardrobe, before tying her hair back in one long plait. There wouldn’t be any need for much make-up, she thought wryly, because her cheeks were already rosy-pink with the anxious anticipation of having to mingle with a crowd of complete strangers who were already known to each other.
At about quarter to eight there was a discreet knock on the door and Ria’s heart fluttered—much to her annoyance. Jasper Trent was no doubt presenting himself to accompany her down to the dining room, she thought, glancing once again in the mirror before going over to open the door. Perhaps he had some more instructions for her! But it was Helen, not Jasper, who was standing there.
‘Everything OK? Settling in all right?’ Helen enquired and, without waiting for a reply, said, ‘I’ve come to fetch you because I thought you might like some company on your first evening—I’m staying for dinner myself, tonight.’ She didn’t bother to mention that she was following Jasper’s instructions in accompanying Ria.
A wave of gratitude swept over Ria. She’d been dreading going into that crowded dining room by herself.
‘Oh, thanks, Helen, that was thoughtful of you,’ she said, picking up her bag. ‘I’m all ready.’
‘I don’t always stay for dinner,’ Helen remarked, as they went down the wide staircase, ‘because I need to get back. I live with my mother, who often isn’t well enough to do any cooking. But she’s not too bad at the moment, so it won’t matter if I’m late home.’
‘What’s the food like at Highbridge Manor?’ Ria asked lightly as they walked along together. ‘Edible?’
‘You wait and see,’ Helen replied as they approached the dining room, through the open doors of which loud conversation could be heard. ‘Sandy is a fantastic chef, and all I need to add is that half the staff are overweight!’
As they went inside, Ria saw that three long trestle tables were laid for the meal, but everyone seemed to be standing around in groups, chatting, with drinks in their hands. Almost immediately, Jasper appeared at their side.
‘Ladies,’ he said formally, ‘what would you like to drink? Helen, you like red wine, don’t you—and, Ria, what can I get for you?’
Ria was about to say that all she wanted was some water, but that would sound so boring, she thought, so at the last second she said, ‘Yes, I’d like red wine, too, please.’
In a few moments Jasper came back with their drinks and Ria looked up at him quickly. He was wearing grey well-cut trousers and an open-neck shirt which revealed his strongmuscled neck and throat. She’d already been aware that he was one of the tallest—if not the tallest—man in the room, his whole persona casting an aura of stylish dominance about him, and his voice—that voice which had barely left her consciousness for a week, and which could only be described as commanding of tone—carried easily above the hubbub of conversation in the room.
Helen moved away then to speak to someone for a moment, leaving Ria standing next to Jasper. Dragging her eyes away from him, she took a sip of her wine and glanced around, trying to get a handle on her surroundings. There were at least forty members of staff present, she noticed, mostly men, and she tried not to be aware of the glances directed at her by several of them, not responding to their unashamed interest. At the other end of the room she saw a long counter and open hatch from where their food was obviously served, and Jasper followed her gaze.
‘I’m afraid we have to help ourselves to everything,’ he said, looking down at her. ‘Waiter service was abandoned long ago.’ His eyes narrowed briefly. Ria Davidson did wear her clothes so well, he thought. The outfit she had on was simple enough, but she somehow managed to make it look outstanding. He smiled suddenly, disarmingly, and Ria smiled back, a welcome surge of pleasure filling her for a moment. He was nice, she thought instinctively. His attitude towards her earlier in the day was probably out of character…Well, she certainly hoped so.
‘I’m not used to people waiting on me,’ she said. ‘And, anyway, I prefer to choose what I have to eat.’
Almost at once, someone struck a gong by the hatch and everyone moved forward straight away. Jasper put his hand lightly on Ria’s arm to push her in front of him. ‘That gong,’ he said, ‘has been in more or less constant use since the first day this school existed.’
She looked up at him, her eyes bright with interest. ‘Really? The same one?’ she said eagerly. ‘I love that—it’s history, isn’t it?’
They took their places in the queue and she went on, ‘I have an almost unhealthy liking for consistency, for maintaining things as they always were.’ She paused. ‘I don’t think I like change, that’s the thing, and sometimes I wish I could “stop all the clocks”—do you know Auden’s poem?—“Stop all the clocks, Cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum…” Oh, it goes on and on,’ she said apologetically, ‘but what I’m talking about is not being able to hold on to something you’re enjoying…valuing…or on to good times, generally, I suppose. I mean…contentment with any situation often seems to slip through your fingers before you’ve had the chance to appreciate it.’
She looked up at him, colour instantly flooding her cheeks as their eyes met, and she shrank inside herself for a moment. What on earth had made her waffle on like that—and what must he think of her? ‘I sometimes feel it would be good for everything to just pause…for a bit,’ she added, her voice faltering for a second.
He didn’t reply at once, enjoying listening to her…He had spotted the potential in Ria Davidson on their first meeting, he reminded himself. Apart from being a modern, fashionable woman, she was much deeper than her appearance might have suggested, and there was that beguiling thoughtfulness about her that sent his male urges tingling in a familiar way.
‘I do know what you mean,’ he said, ‘about the manic passing of time—and I have a lot of sympathy with your outlook. In fact, I see my place in Somerset as the sanctuary I rely on to detach me from all the change and progress and stress you’re talking about. Life, there, does actually seem to stand still sometimes.’
She looked up at him gratefully. Just so long as he didn’t think she was crazy!
It was their turn to