Moth To The Flame. Sara Craven

it for a moment and his brows cleared.

      ‘Naturalmente, signorina. The signorina inglese on the fourth floor. She did not speak to me that you were to arrive. I call her now. You wait.’

      As well as a switchboard, Juliet saw that he operated an intercom system, and she guessed that this was for security purposes. Jan, she thought, was fortunate to be able to afford an environment where such procedures were standard.

      ‘You go up now.’ The commissionaire was gesturing vigorously at her from the cubicle. ‘You take the lift.’

      The lift looked old-fashioned with its wrought iron gates, but its workings were ultra-modern and they reached the floor indicated with stomach-lurching speed. Juliet stepped out on to the tiled passage and began to walk along it, the heels of her sandals clicking rhythmically as she searched for the correct number on the door.

      She found it at last at the end of the passage and guessed that Jan must have one of the flats at the front of the building with the balcony that she had noticed when she arrived. She pressed the buzzer beside the door, noticing as she did so the small loudspeaker just above it. It was no surprise therefore when the speaker gave a crackle and Jan’s familiar voice speaking with a hint of impatience said, ‘Who’s there?’

      ‘It’s Juliet.’ She felt faintly bewildered. The commissionaire had presumably reported that she was on her way up. Who else could it be, for heaven’s sake?

      ‘Oh, Julie!’ Her sister’s voice sounded almost relieved. There was a rattle as a chain was unfastened inside and then the door swung open. Jan stood in the doorway smiling at her. ‘Darling, what a lovely surprise!’

      ‘Weren’t you expecting me?’ Juliet walked past her into the apartment and put her case down.

      Jan shrugged. ‘Mim mentioned something in one of her letters, but frankly I wondered if you’d go through with it. But it’s marvellous to see you now you are here. How long are you staying?’

      ‘A week, if that’s all right.’ Juliet found her eyes straying round the room in which they were standing. It was a large room, and built on two levels. They were standing on the upper level, a kind of gallery surmounted by a wrought iron balustrade which led presumably to the bedroom as well. Two wide steps descended into the living room, which judging by its size ran the whole length of the apartment. At one side, wide glass doors led to the balcony. Thick cream and gold carpet stretched from wall to wall, and Juliet noticed a wide chesterfield sofa upholstered in warm golden brown hide with two matching armchairs arranged with their backs to the window, and facing a wall where an elegant fitment contained a complicated-looking hi-fi unit and a television set. At the other end of the room, she saw a white baby grand piano surmounted by an alabaster vase containing long-stemmed yellow roses.

      ‘Oh, that’s fine.’ Jan sounded amused. ‘That’s plenty of time to prepare a report for Mim. I assume that’s why you’re here.’

      Juliet felt the colour steal into her cheeks, and her sister’s smile widened.

      ‘Don’t look so stricken,’ she advised. ‘Mim’s very transparent, you know, and you’re not much better. And I don’t mind—really. I suppose I could have suggested it myself, but I’ve been so busy.’ She shrugged eloquently. ‘Anyway, we’ll put your case in the bedroom, and then I’ll make some iced coffee. We’ll have it on the balcony.’

      The bedroom was also a large room, its single beds fitted with quilted gold bedspreads. There were wild silk curtains at the windows, and an entire wall was taken up with fitted wardrobes in white and gold. The bathroom which led off the bedroom was even more breathtaking, with a sunken bath and gold-plated taps shaped like dolphin’s heads.

      Juliet shook her head helplessly as she gazed around her. Nothing could have been further from the rambling Victorian semi-detached house where they had been born and brought up, yet Jan seemed completely at home in her exotic surroundings. It brought home to Juliet as little else could have done just how much she and her sister had grown apart. She felt alien and out of place in all this luxury.

      ‘Do you like the apartment?’ Jan sat down on the padded stool by the dressing table and gave her an amused glance.

      ‘It’s unbelievable!’ Juliet picked her words with care. ‘But where is Maria? I thought you were sharing with her.’

      ‘Oh, that didn’t work out,’ Jan admitted casually. ‘But this place is only temporary, I may say. I’m not a millionairess yet. There was a cancellation over a lease and I was able to step in on a short-term basis, at a reduced rent. I’ll have to move in the autumn when they find another permanent tenant, of course, but until then it’s quite pleasant to live in the lap of luxury.’

      She was smiling as she spoke, and her green eyes fringed by incredibly long artificially darkened lashes were fixed candidly on Juliet’s face, and why Juliet should be suddenly and certainly aware that she was lying, she didn’t know. But she had always since childhood had this awareness when Jan was not telling her the truth, and she felt herself frowning slightly. Then she pulled herself together. They were not children any more. Jan was grown-up now, and entitled to a life of her own, and secrets in that life. All that mattered was that Mim was kept in blissful ignorance, and all Juliet had to do was telephone her and assure her that Jan was well and happy. Any doubts and uncertainties she might privately have she would keep to herself.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ Jan tilted her head back. ‘You look very solemn, sister dear. Did the flight upset you? Are you tired?’

      ‘A little, perhaps.’ Juliet shook out the dress she had unpacked from her case and hung it away in one of the wardrobes. ‘A shower would be nice, I think.’

      ‘Make yourself at home.’ Jan got up restlessly. ‘I’ll go and see about that coffee. Come back to the salotto when you’re ready.’

      Juliet was thoughtful, as she allowed the water to trickle its blissful coolness over her body. There was something definitely odd in Jan’s manner. Her welcome had been warm enough, more so in fact than Juliet had expected, but there was something guarded in her attitude.

      ‘She’s obviously afraid that I’m going to start prying,’ she told herself resignedly as she wrapped herself in one of the enormous fluffy bathsheets. ‘I’ll just have to try and make it clear to her that I’m not interested in her private life.’

      She dressed, choosing a classic shirtwaister in cool green cotton, and sliding her feet into heelless sandals. She scooped her coppery hair back from her face and secured it at the nape of her neck with a scarf that matched her dress. When she had finished, she decided that she looked presentable enough, although she could not compete at Jan’s level of sophistication. She grinned rather ruefully at the idea of even attempting to wear the cream silky trousers and the daringly cut black halter top that so became her sister. She left the bedroom and walked along the gallery towards the salotto, her feet making little sound on the thickly carpeted floor. She could hear Jan talking somewhere in a low voice and checked momentarily, thinking that other visitors might have arrived while she was having her shower, but then she told herself she was being quite ridiculous. She was also Jan’s guest, after all, and she walked forward with determination. But Jan was alone in the salotto, speaking on the telephone. She was smoking a cigarette in quick, jerky puffs and as Juliet watched she leaned forward suddenly, crushing the stub out in a black onyx ashtray that stood by the telephone. As she did so, she glanced up and saw Juliet on the gallery. She smiled and lifted a hand in greeting, and her voice was pitched a little more loudly as she went on talking. Finally with a gay ‘Ciao, caro,’ she replaced the receiver in its rest.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Juliet came rather awkwardly down the steps into the salotto. ‘Did I interrupt anything?’

      Jan gave a smiling shrug. ‘Just a phone call,’ she said lightly. ‘It wasn’t important. Now come and soak up some of this sunshine and tell me everything that’s been happening at home.’

      For the remainder of the afternoon, and the evening that