She was being kidnapped. She’d never see Matt again, never see her family. She redoubled her struggles. It was only when the car drew up outside the police station that she realised she’d been arrested.
‘Je ne suis pas un burglar. Je suis friend of Antoine de la Tour,’ she said to the fat gendarme who was sitting behind a desk. But he just laughed and threw her into a cell.
At first she screamed and rattled the bars. But the fat gendarme came up and leered at her. He got out his keys. His meaning was quite plain.
Imogen shrunk away. ‘Oh non, non — please not that!’
‘Ferme ta gueule, encore.’
She sat on the narrow bed trying to stifle her sobs. No one would ever find her. She would be there for years like the Count of Monte Cristo. It was suffocatingly hot. She dripped with sweat, but was too shattered to think of taking off her sweater. The blazing row with Matt, the horror of her arrest were beginning to take effect. She couldn’t stop shaking.
The hours crawled by. Light was beginning to seep through the tiny window, when there was a commotion outside. She heard a familiar voice.
‘Matt!’ she shrieked.
He came straight over and took her hands through the bars.
‘Imogen, are you all right?’ His face was ashen.
‘Oh, please get me out of here. They think I’m a burglar. I was trying to climb into Antoine’s villa to get my earrings.’
She didn’t understand what Matt was saying to the fat gendarme. But he spoke very slowly and distinctly, waving his Press card back and forward, and the tone of his voice put a chill even into her heart. She was released in two minutes. She fell sobbing into his arms.
‘It’s all right, you’re safe. Everything’s all right.’
It was light in the streets as he drove back to the hotel.
‘How did you find me?’ she asked in a small voice.
‘As soon as I cooled down, I realised I’d come on too strong. I came back to apologise and found you’d done a bunk. I toured the town for a bit, then I tried Antoine’s house and found the place seething with police and Alsatians. It was simple after that.’
She hung her head. ‘I’m dreadfully sorry. You seem to have spent your holiday getting me out of trouble.’
‘Skip it. I had no right to shout at you. My lousy Irish temper, I’m afraid. Yesterday was a bit trying. Cable — upstaging like nobody’s business. Nicky — sulking. James and Yvonne — at each other’s throats.’
‘Poor Matt,’ said Imogen. ‘You haven’t had much of a holiday, have you?’
Then she tried again. ‘We weren’t doing anything, Antoine and I. Truthfully we weren’t.’
‘It doesn’t matter. What you get up to is your own affair.’
‘But. .’
‘Let’s drop it, shall we?’
This weary acceptance was far worse than his earlier blinding rage.
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as she got back to the hotel she went to bed, lying for a long time in a state of coma before she fell asleep. When she woke it was afternoon.
Listlessly, she dressed and wandered along the passage to Cable’s room. Chaos met her eyes. Clothes of every colour of the rainbow littered the bed. Suitcases lay all over the floor.
‘What are you doing?’ said Imogen, aghast.
‘What does it look as though I’m doing?’ snapped Cable. ‘Packing, of course. Since you’re here, you may as well help me. Get those dresses out of the wardrobe — take the coat-hangers too. This beastly hotel can afford them — and put them in this case. My foot is hurting so much, I can’t tell you.’
She sat down on the bed.
‘But where are you going?’ said Imogen.
Cable gave one of her sly, malicious smiles.
‘All roads lead to Rome, darling. But I’m going by way of Milan.’
Imogen looked horrified. ‘But that’s where Antoine is.’
‘Right first time,’ said Cable approvingly. ‘You’re getting perceptive in your old age. Rebel’s collecting me in half-an-hour.’
‘But I thought you loathed Antoine.’
‘Did you now? Well, I’m entitled to change my mind. I never said he wasn’t attractive. And he’s mad for me, which is half the battle. He telephoned this morning, absolutely gibbering, my dear, and said ever since he met me on Wednesday he couldn’t get me out of his mind. He knew I wasn’t happy with Matt. If I came to Rome, he’d give me the best time in the world. Don’t forget those bikinis hanging from the window. He’s going to give me a part in his film — as a slave girl.’
‘And what about Matt?’
Cable’s face hardened. ‘Don’t talk to me about Matt,’ she said stonily. ‘I’m through with him for good. If anyone deserves his come-uppance, it’s that guy.’
‘But what’s he done?’ said Imogen.
‘He’s impossible, that’s what. He was in the most vile temper all yesterday, quite unsympathetic about my foot which, incidentally, is absolute agony. Then he swans off for most of the night. God knows what he was up to — that blasted Casino, I suppose. Then he comes in at some ungodly hour this morning, just as I’d taken two more sleeping pills. Put all those bottles in my make-up case, darling. It’s that trunk over there. Where was I?’
‘You’d just taken some pills.’
‘So I had. Well, I was very uptight, so I began to tell him a few home-truths. Very gently, mind you. And do you know what he said?’
Imogen shook her head.
‘He said, “Why don’t you shut up about your bloody foot. It would have been better for everyone if you’d broken your jaw.”’
Imogen buried her face in the bottles to hide a smile.
‘And then without giving me a chance to retaliate, he charges out of the room to watch some forest fire that’s broken out in the mountains.’
There was a knock on the door. Cable jumped nervously.
‘Answer it, will you?’ she said.
A sleek black face appeared round the door. It was Rebel.
‘Oh, hullo,’ said Cable with relief. ‘I won’t be long. Could you take these cases down? I’m afraid you’ll have to make two journeys.’
As soon as Rebel had left the room Imogen pleaded, ‘You can’t leave Matt like this. OK — so he blew his top. But he’ll calm down. He’s worth a million of Antoine. Antoine’s just a lovely playboy.’
‘And I’m a lovely playgirl,’ said Cable, wriggling into a green dress that looked faintly familiar.
‘But Matt really loves you.’ Imogen was almost in tears.
‘He shows it in a most mysterious way,’ said Cable.
‘But he’ll be shattered.’
‘Won’t he just!’ said Cable gleefully. ‘Men hate it so much more when you take off with one of their mates. Well, if he loves me so much, he can come and get me. And this time it’ll be marriage or nothing.’
She got an envelope out of the chest of drawers.
‘I’ve written him this letter telling him everything,’ she said, spraying it with scent. ‘Will you be sure to give it him?’
Rebel appeared at the door. ‘You can carry me down this time, darling,’ said Cable.
Rebel picked her up.