Night Of Shame

Judith’s pride and joy, however, was her prized panda which shared her bed, getting under the sheets with her at night and lying contentedly against her pillows during the day. Peter Panda had been a present from her father on her eighth birthday, and had proved to be a great comfort to her in moments of loneliness or distress. She loved the feel of his velvet-soft fur, and his wonderful ability to listen to her complaints and confessions without a single critical word.

Judith had added to her collection of silent comforters during her growing-up years whenever she had money of her own. Each toy had been selected for its extra-soft feel and the expression of love and sweet sympathy in its eyes. Whenever she looked at them and held them, Judith instantly felt better. She believed they were worth their weight in gold, and had saved her a fortune in therapy and medication.

Raymond’s mother thought her toys cute. Raymond had simply smiled indulgently when he’d first seen them. Margaret had denounced Judith’s collection as neurotic and unhealthy.

‘I’ll bet she even talks to them,’ she’d sneered to Raymond one day.

Which, of course, she did.

‘You’ll never guess who’s turned up again,’ she told them all as she hurried into her room. ‘Alexander Fairchild! But don’t worry, I’m not about to make a fool of myself again. Can’t talk now. I have to get ready and I’m running late.’

Flinging open the doors of the wardrobe, she ran her eyes over the clothes hanging before her.

Judith had never been a flashy or a sexy dresser, not even back in her days with Simon. Nowadays, her attire was even more conservative. But Raymond was right. She’d been shopping for her honeymoon lately and had purchased a couple of outfits which might be described as glamorous. Raymond was going to take her on a South Pacific cruise and had instructed her to buy some clothes suitable for elegant evening dining.

Her hand moved to one such new purchase. Primrose-yellow, it was a deceptively innocent creation if one kept the jacket on. The dress, however, was styled like a petticoat, silky and clinging, with shoe-string straps holding up a bodice that moulded around her breasts like a second skin.

Judith stared at it for a moment, unsure of wearing such a provocative gown in Alexander’s presence. Till she reminded herself that her passion for the man had been a one-sided affair, his desire all being pretence. She could probably stand naked before him tonight and he wouldn’t turn a hair.

Angry defiance took hold of Judith at the thought. She threw the outfit onto the bed then marched into the shower. Some considerable time later, she stood in front of the dressing-table mirror, gnawing away at her bottom lip as she surveyed the dress again, now that it was on her body.

Judith was not a busty girl.

But still...

She gulped at the sight of her tall, slender form encased in that clinging yellow silk. The effect was not only sexy. It was downright seductive!

Despairingly, she dragged on the thigh-length jacket with its long sleeves and high Chinese collar, then took another look. Ah, that was much better. Her braless breasts, and especially her irritatingly hard nipples, were now well covered. No way did she want anyone misinterpreting any unfortunate body language, especially Alexander. She was determined to show him she felt nothing for him any more, nothing except a mild derision and a total lack of interest.

A loud rap on the door made her jump.

‘Ten minutes, Judith,’ Raymond ordered peremptorily through the door. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs, at the front door, right on the dot of seven forty-five.’

Judith bristled at Raymond’s officiousness, which was silly, because he wasn’t being any different from his usual self. He’d always been a bit bossy, and punctuality was an obsession with him. Being a trained nurse, she was used to schedules and appointed times. Usually, she found them comforting. But tonight, for some reason, she was irritated by Raymond’s autocratic attitude.

‘I’ll be ready, Raymond,’ she called back, gritting her teeth as she did so.

Turning back to the mirror, Judith set about doing her hair, deft fingers whisking her long chestnut-brown locks up at the sides, and anchoring it on top of her head with a gold and tortoiseshell comb. The rest she left to tumble halfway down her back, its natural wave demanding no attention other than a quick brush.

She’d already done her make-up, her clear olive complexion needing little adornment, just a brushing of blusher. At night, she always emphasised her large green eyes with mascara and earth-toned eye shadows. Her mouth, which was wide and full, did not really suit red lipsticks, so she generally stuck to browns.

Judith stared at the finished result in the mirror. She looked good. More than good. She looked glamorous, and sultry, and downright sexy.

‘What do you think?’ she asked her silently watching audience. ‘Too provocative? Yes? No? Say something, for pity’s sake!’ She whirled round to glare into Peter’s soulful eyes. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You think I want him to look at me—just once—with real desire in his eyes, don’t you? Don’t you?’ she repeated, stalking over to snatch the panda up and shake him.

‘Well, maybe I do,’ she admitted with a strangled sob, and hugged the panda tightly to her. ‘But there’s no danger of that happening, Peter. He never really fancied me, not one little bit. He just pretended. He didn’t want me. He just wanted revenge!’

It had happened two days before the actual wedding, the night of the big party, when everyone for miles around came to meet Simon’s prospective bride. Anyone who was anyone, that was. Simon’s family only mixed with the best in country society.

Judith felt ill-at-ease all night in her simple green party dress, especially when Simon kept leaving her alone for great chunks of time on end. She’d never been one for mixing at parties, not having been blessed with Simon’s easy charm. Several times, she felt Alexander’s intense gaze upon her, but she steadfastly resisted looking back at him.

By the time the antique clock on the wall in the main living room struck midnight, the party was in full swing. Drinks flowed. A lot of people were merry, and many were downright drunk. A sozzled Simon had just reappeared after another absence, only to immediately excuse himself again. He’d said he was going to get her a drink, despite her protest that she didn’t want another. She’s already had far too many glasses of champagne on her relatively empty stomach, and her head was beginning to spin.

Five minutes went by, then another, and he did not return. She was about to go in search of him when Alexander appeared by her side, a glass of white wine in his hand.

‘Simon asked me to bring you this,’ he said. ‘His mother wanted him for something. He shouldn’t be too long. Do you mind if I stay and talk to you for a while?’

His eyes locked with hers and immediately she was lost. ‘I...no, I...I don’t mind,’ she said shakily.

They talked and talked. Simon didn’t come back and Judith scarcely noticed. Alexander told her how he and Simon had become best friends while doing an economics degree together at Sydney Uni a few years before, but that whereas Simon had gone on to a position as a trainee executive in a large insurance company he had had to give up his own banking career to return to run the family farm near Goulburn. His father had tragically lost both his legs at the knees when he’d been run over by the tractor.

Judith found him a man of great depth, not at all what she’d expected. She would have preferred to find him shallow and insincere, unworthy of her mad longings—someone she could despise and thereby kill her infatuation.

But any despising was not to come till much later. That night she found nothing to despise, only to desire.

An hour passed. Alexander went in search of the still missing Simon, only to return alone, a dark frown on his face. Abruptly, he took the now empty wineglass from her hand and asked her to dance.

What madness! What joy! She could touch him and no one could condemn her. She could revel in his nearness, for she was safe in the company of others.

But he steered her away, first out onto the terrace and then down into the extensive grounds. When they reached a secluded spot behind a hedge, he swung her to a stop and just stared down at her. She was both afraid and thrilled by the look in his eyes. When he kissed her, the dam of desire she’d tried so hard to bottle up spilled wide open and all her passion for him poured forth.

Oh, such a torrent of feeling it was. Such a flood of longing. She was just swept away. Within minutes he had her on the ground, her clothes pushed aside. She was panting beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape.

Alexander was only a second away from total possession, Judith clinging to him in abandoned submission, when the cold clarity of Simon’s voice froze her with shame.

‘You lying, cheating little bitch!’

Alexander rose quickly, pulling down her skirt and adjusting his own clothing with amazing speed. Judith just lay there on the grass, stricken with shame. Her eyes were round with shock. How could you have done this? her conscience cried piteously.

Simon was no longer looking at her but glaring at Alexander, wild fury in his eyes. His arm swung round with violent intent, but Alexander warded off the blow with his elbow. Simon swayed, and Judith saw that his cheeks were flushed and his eyes bloodshot. He was very, very drunk, she realised as she scrambled to her feet at last.

‘Please, Simon,’ she said pathetically, grasping at his arm. ‘I...I’m sorry. I—’

He struck her. A savage blow to the side of her head, sending her sprawling. Alexander grabbed her before she fell to the ground, then whipped round to face Simon. ‘I’ll kill you, you bastard,’ he threatened. ‘Touch her again and I’ll kill you.’

‘She’s all yours, dear friend,’ came the sneering retort. ‘Screw her to death for all I care.’

Simon lurched across the lawn and into his blue Aston Martin. The car burst into life and screeched off down the drive, sending a shower of gravel scattering at their feet. They didn’t even have time to speak to each other before they heard the sound of the crash and saw the fire-ball in the distance.

Simon’s family and friends never found out why he’d driven off so crazily to his death. Alexander didn’t confess to anything. Judith had begged him not to. And when he announced that he wasn’t able to stay for the funeral, a sudden downturn in his father’s health calling him home, she thought it was for the best. How could she possibly stand by his side at Simon’s graveside?

By the time Simon was buried, her guilt was overwhelming. She knew then that it would take her a long time to get over what she’d done. Her only comfort was the knowledge that Alexander must truly love her to have betrayed his best friend like that, as she must truly love him.

He’d promised to come back and get her in a couple of days. She was counting the moments till his arrival, wanting to get right away, away from the misery in that home, away from the scene of their crime, so to speak.

But it wasn’t Alexander who came. It was his sister, Karen...

Judith was lying down in her room when she was told there was someone on the front veranda to see her. The visitor refused to come inside.

Puzzled, Judith went downstairs and out on to the veranda, gazing with curiosity upon the pretty dark-haired young woman waiting there. She’d been crying, Judith noted.

‘You’re Judith Anderson, Simon’s fiancée?’ the girl asked.

‘Yes.’ But who on earth was she?

The girl pulled out a crumpled handkerchief from a plain black handbag and blew her nose. A thick lock of hair fell across her eyes and she agitatedly pushed it aside. The gesture reminded Judith of someone, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on who.

‘I’m sorry,’ the girl blubbered. ‘I’m really sorry.’ Then she totally lost control and the tears flooded anew.

Judith took her elbow and led her to the long seat against the wall. ‘Let’s sit down,’ she said gently, ‘and you can tell me what you’re sorry about, plus who you are.’

The girl lifted her tear-stained face, her brown eyes widening. ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I...I’m Karen Fairchild, Alex’s sister.’

Of course, Judith realised. The same forehead and hair—hair that was always falling forward.

‘If only I’d known,’ Karen blurted out. ‘I’d never have told Alex. Never! But he was insisting that I come to your wedding, and I just couldn’t.’

With that she buried her head in her hands and wept some more.

Judith’s thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion. What terrible thing was this girl trying to tell her?

‘What shouldn’t you have told your brother?’ she asked slowly, already dreading the answer.

The girl looked hard at Judith now and the weeping stopped. ‘I’m not sure you’ll want to hear this, you having loved Simon. But I loved him too and I’ll never forgive Alex if he was to blame for Simon’s death. He didn’t say much when he came home but I knew. I just knew he’d done something.’

Judith stood up abruptly and walked over to the edge of the veranda, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. She took a deep breath to calm herself and turned to face her visitor.

‘Let me get this clear, Karen. You were in love with Simon?’

The girl nodded.

‘And Alex found out?’

‘That’s part of it...’

‘So what’s the other part?’

Karen looked upset, as though she wished she hadn’t started this confession. ‘I suppose I’ll have to tell you it all now,’ she said unhappily, then fell silent.

Judith waited for her to go on, unable to trust herself to speak. The feeling of foreboding was fierce within her heart.

‘Last Easter,’ the girl began at last, ‘Simon came down to stay at the farm for a few days. Alex had to work most of the time and I...well, it fell to me mostly to entertain Simon.

‘It wasn’t Simon’s fault. Really and truly. I threw myself at him and he...well...I knew he didn’t really love me, that it was just...you know. But I didn’t care. I was mad about him. I even told him it was safe. I had this silly idea that you couldn’t get pregnant the first time. By the time I realised I was, I knew there was no chance between Simon and me. He’d been gone for weeks and hadn’t answered any of my letters. Then Alex got a note saying he’d met this great girl and was going to marry her...’

Karen looked wretched and Judith just stared at her.

She was not feeling what she should be. She was not shocked over Simon’s less than gallant conduct, just increasingly terrified of hearing what she feared would come next. Her expression must have revealed some of her turmoil for Karen rose and came forward and took her hand in a gesture of sympathy.

‘I’m truly sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I know this must be hurting you, but I have to make you understand. I have to know.’

‘Go on,’ said Judith coldly, drawing her hand away. No one warmed to the bearer of ill tidings.

‘I had an abortion,’ came her reluctant admission. ‘An aunt of mine in Sydney helped without telling the rest of the family, but when I came home I had a type of nervous breakdown. Everyone tried to find out what was wrong but I never told them.

‘Then the invitation to your wedding came and Alex thought it would cheer me up to go. I couldn’t cope with that and refused to come. The night before Alex left to come here he tried to persuade me again. I’m afraid I became hysterical and told him the truth.

‘I’ll never forget the look on his face. It was horrible. I tried explaining that Simon wasn’t to blame but he didn’t believe me. Alex is not one to forget or forgive. I knew he’d do something awful, and he did, didn’t he? Simon’s dead...’

All the blood had drained from Judith’s face. Karen’s words were almost too distressing to contemplate, the truth behind them starkly plain for Judith to see. Alexander had used her, used her to gain revenge. Maybe he wasn’t a murderer in the literal sense of the word, but he was very definitely to blame for the circumstances leading up to Simon’s death. She could well have understood his beating Simon up, but to involve an innocent party...

Innocent? How could she call herself that? She hadn’t been innocent. She’d allowed herself to be seduced, had wallowed in the moments of betrayal almost as much as Alexander had. Even poor dead Simon could not claim total innocence. He should have protected his friend’s kid sister, not slept with her.

The only true innocent in all this was the girl standing in front of her, who could be no more than seventeen. She didn’t deserve to suffer any more. Judith knew her own life was destroyed. She could not destroy Karen’s further.

‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ the girl pleaded. ‘Tell me Alex wasn’t in any way to blame for Simon’s death. I’ve been so afraid.’

Judith gathered all her mental and emotional strength. ‘Let me assure you, Karen,’ she lied staunchly, ‘that Alexander had nothing to do with Simon’s death. Simon was entirely at fault. He went joyriding in his own sports car while drunk. He lost control on some gravel on a corner, skidded off the road and crashed into a tree. Alexander had nothing to do with it. He and Simon had been getting along famously all week so Simon must have made him understand what happened where you and he were concerned.

‘For pity’s sake don’t accuse him of anything. Let it go, Karen. Go home and let it go. Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go and get ready to go home too. I have to catch tonight’s train back to Sydney.’

She didn’t wait to see the relief in the girl’s face, walking back inside like some half-charged robot. She went upstairs to her room, where she sat down and wrote to Alex, telling him she was sorry but she knew they would never find happiness after Simon’s death and she didn’t want to see him ever again.

It wasn’t till much later that she realised what a futile gesture it had been. She’d thought she was protecting Karen at the time, but of course Alexander would never have come after her. The only thing she’d gained by writing that letter was that she’d started taking control of her life again after being severely out of control since meeting him.

After posting the letter, she’d taken the train back to Sydney that night, quit her job and her shared flat, then accepted the first live-in nursing job she could find. She’d been installed in the Pascoll home within thirty-six hours of arriving at Central Station.

Judith shook herself back to the present, taking some comfort this time not from hugging Peter Panda but from the harsh memories themselves. Remembering what had happened would keep her on her guard against Alexander tonight.

Not that she really had anything to fear. Alex’s own conscience should keep him at bay this time. It would take an especially wicked individual to ignore his own ignominy and act as if it had never happened.

Judith didn’t doubt that Alexander was going to get quite a shock when he saw her tonight. And in a way that gave her a perverse sense of satisfaction. The man should never be allowed to forget what he had done. When he saw her he would be forced to remember. She might even slip in the odd barb or two, make him suffer a little as she had suffered over the years. At the same time she would give the impression that she had well and truly recovered and was on the verge of a superbly happy life.

It would not be easy to put all that across, but she was determined to do it.

But when she placed Peter back on her bed and turned to pick up her tapestry evening purse from her dressing-table she became aware of dozens of black beady eyes following her every movement. For the first time in her life, Judith found no comfort in her friends’ presence. They seemed to be looking at her with worry, not warmth. Peter especially.

‘I’ll be careful,’ she said at last. ‘I promise.’

And, steeling herself, she left the sanctuary of her bedroom and hurried along the hall in the direction of the stairs.

Raymond was already waiting for her at the door, looking a little agitated, probably because she was a few minutes late. His eyes lifted to watch her descent and when her jacket flapped open the shock on his face was evident.

His reaction annoyed her. ‘Don’t you like the way I look?’ she was driven to ask when she joined him.

‘What? Oh, yes...of course.’ He gave her another long, frowning look. ‘You look quite...striking.’

‘Thank you, Raymond,’ she returned coolly, irritated that his admiration had been so slow in coming. If you could call the way he was looking at her admiration. His expression was more like one of troubled speculation. Judith sighed inwardly. She certainly didn’t seem to be finding favour with him tonight.

Not that she could really blame him. She wasn’t being her usual quiet, amenable self, that was for sure.

Feeling suddenly guilty, she linked an affectionate arm through his and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Don’t look so worried,’ she said soothingly. ‘I’ll be nice to Margaret tonight, and I promise I won’t make a scene with Mr Fairchild.’

Raymond relaxed a little and patted her hand. ‘Thank God for that. I’m having important business dealings with the man and I wouldn’t like anything to interfere with them.’

Important business dealings?

Judith blinked her confusion. Raymond’s business was a large frozen food company inherited from his father, it’s main products being vegetables. His life was running this company, and he ran it very profitably. When he’d told Judith about his having to put off a business dinner with Alexander and invite him to the party tonight instead, she’d assumed he was signing him up to supply fresh vegetables. Alexander was, after all, a farmer.

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ she said. ‘What kind of important dealings?’

‘I want to buy some land from him,’ Raymond explained as he opened the front door. ‘I’m going into the crop-growing business myself. It’ll be much cheaper in the long run than buying supplies from various farmers.’

‘You mean you’re buying Alexander’s farm?’

‘What on earth are you talking about, Judith?’

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh, I see. Alexander’s given up farming and gone back into banking.’

Now Raymond was the one who looked puzzled. ‘Banking? Fairchild’s no banker. He’s in real estate. Owns great tracts of rich land in the Riverina and along the Southern coastline.’

‘But...but...’

‘Come, Judith,’ he said, ushering her out of the door. ‘No more talk of Fairchild. It’s nearly eight. You know how I do so hate to be late. Luckily, I’ve already got the car out.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE night was cold outside. Sydney in August was still nippy, and often windy. Spring was nearly a month away.

Judith shivered as they hurried down the front path and over to the waiting grey Mercedes. It was all very well for Raymond to dismiss Alexander from his mind. Judith’s mind had never been that kind. She’d tried to dismiss him over the last seven years, but had never really succeeded.

Now he’d been forcibly thrust to the forefront of her thoughts again but he wasn’t even the same man she remembered. How on earth had he gone from being a small-time farmer to a high-powered real-estate man in only seven years? It seemed impossible. Unless he’d inherited money.

Or married it...

The thought of Alexander marrying had never occurred to her before, which was crazy. Why shouldn’t he be married? The man was now thirty-two years old.

She ached to ask Raymond if he was aware of Alexander’s marital status, but knew it would be too revealing a question. Her own inner churnings over the matter were revealing enough as it was. Why should she care if he was married or not? She hated the man, didn’t she?

Raymond drove as he always did. In silence. He needed to concentrate, he’d told her the first night he’d taken her out to the ballet—about a year ago. And she always obliged by not indulging in any distracting chatter.