Castles Of Sand. Anne Mather

were the usual headlines—another strike in the Midlands, an escape from custody of a wanted criminal, more unpopular governmental decisions—and after skipping through these, Ashley turned to the gossip columns. It was a relief to read about someone else’s problems, she thought, sympathising with the fight an actress was having in establishing her rights as a famous actor’s common-law wife. Without the security of a wedding ring, a woman had few privileges, she acknowledged flatly, and even with one, a man always had the ascendancy.

      Her lips tightened. It wasn’t fair, she fretted, her eyes registering a mute protest. Andrew was her son! Was he to grow to manhood without even speaking a word to the woman who had borne him in her body for nine whole months?

      The telephone bell interrupted her melancholy abstraction, and it rang several times before she stirred herself to go and answer it. She didn’t feel like talking to anybody right now, and she lifted the receiver with dour reluctance.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Ashley?’

      Her knees gave out on her, and she sank down weakly on to the couch. ‘Al-Alain?’

      ‘You did not expect me to ring?’

      ‘No—yes. I mean—–’ Ashley struggled to shake off her apathy. ‘Why are you calling? To let me know you’re leaving today? I know that already—Malcolm told me. He said you’d definitely withdrawn Andrew’s name from the register, and as you conveniently forgot to give me your address, I suppose you’re ringing to flaunt your advantage—–’

      ‘Do you want to hear what I have to say, or do you not?’ Alain interposed curtly, cutting into her babbling tirade. ‘I told you I would consider your proposition, and I have. Where I am staying in London does not seem of great relevance.’

      Ashley’s jaw shook. ‘Well, all right. What have you decided? That I won’t do? That I’m not suitable? That you couldn’t possibly employ a woman to teach the boy, and that in any case your father would never agree to it?’

      ‘Will you stop trying to pre-empt me?’ Alain’s voice betrayed his irritation now. ‘In the name of Allah, you seem to be doing your best to persuade me that you are not suitable!’

      Ashley faltered, ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘What do you think I mean?’

      Ashley’s palms were moist. ‘You can’t mean—you don’t mean—–’ Her voice shook. ‘Oh, Alain! You wouldn’t tease me, would you?’

      ‘No,’ he said flatly, ‘I would not tease you. And you have yet to decide whether what I have to say is acceptable to you.’

      Ashley swallowed convulsively. ‘Go on.’

      Alain hesitated, then he said briefly: ‘Your initial contract will be made for a probationary period of a month. If, at the end of that time, the arrangement has proved—unsatisfactory—to either party, it can be terminated forthwith.’

      Ashley breathed out quickly: ‘All right.’

      ‘This is to be a business arrangement only,’ Alain continued. ‘With certain—clauses inserted, relevant to the situation.’

      Ashley quivered. ‘What clauses?’

      Alain paused. ‘A sworn undertaking from you that you will not, at any time, and to anybody, divulge your relationship to Hussein.’

      Ashley’s stomach churned. ‘Is that all?’

      ‘No. In addition, I shall want your written agreement that you handed over Hussein independently, and of your own free will, and that you have no intention of asserting your rights as his mother in the future.’

      ‘No!’ Ashley’s voice broke on the word. ‘Alain, you’re unreasonable. You can’t make me sign something like that.’

      ‘Then you must do what you can to gain your own ends,’ he declared roughly. ‘There is nothing more to be said.’

      ‘Wait!’ Ashley could not let him go like that. ‘Alain, give me a few moments, at least. Let me think!’

      ‘I do not have much time, Ashley. We leave for the airport in less than half an hour.’

      ‘You’re leaving?’ she gasped, in consternation.

      ‘You said you knew,’ he reminded her.

      ‘Well, yes, but—–’ Ashley sought for words. ‘I thought—now—–’

      ‘If you decide to accept the position, you will follow us, after you have completed your term of notice,’ he replied smoothly. ‘It is better this way. It will enable me to prepare the ground, as you might say. And give you time to resign yourself to the situation.’

      Ashley shook her head. ‘You—you’re inhuman!’

      ‘Merely practical,’ he amended dryly. ‘Well? Have you reached a decision?’

      Ashley tipped back her head, as if her neck ached. It was too much. How could she sign away her child’s birthright? But if she did not, she might never see him again. Was the one any worse than the other?

      ‘And—and who will be his guardian?’ she asked huskily. ‘Who—who has custody of him?’