gently. 'You're going to take your exams in a week or two, and so much depends on them. Please don't do anything silly— that could affect the rest of your life.'
Jenny got to her feet. 'I call that rich coming from you, Chessie. Sort your own life out before you start handing out good advice, why don't you? Because from where I'm standing, you're a complete mess.'
And she flounced out of the room and slammed the door.
Well done me, Chessie thought, wincing. I made a really good job of that.
And she couldn't really argue with Jenny's parting shot either. She was in total chaos, lost in a kind of limbo, and uncertain what to do next.
The thought of how different it all might have been could never be far from her mind, of course. If only Alastair had returned a week—even a day earlier. If he'd never gone away in the first place, she thought sadly, and been there for her to turn to when her life collapsed around her.
Linnet was bound to have told him about her engagement by now. She seemed hell-bent on spreading the news far and wide, and would have particular malicious pleasure in telling Alastair, as the tensions between them had clearly not abated.
And this time Chessie would not be able to act as buffer between them.
But it was little use sitting here, tormenting herself with what might have been. She might be wearing Miles' ring, but that meant nothing. It was still a working day, and she was his employee.
As she came back into the main part of the house, she saw a battered leather travel bag by the front door. She gave it a frowning glance, then continued into Miles' study. He was there, over by his table. He'd changed, she noticed at once, into more formal clothing—dark trousers, and a jacket with a shirt and tie, and he was packing papers into his briefcase.
Chessie checked, staring at him. 'Are you going some¬where?'
'I called Vinnie back,' Miles returned, without pausing in his task. 'She wants to discuss my schedule once the current book is in. So, I said I'd go up to London for a couple of days.'
'A couple of days,' she repeated. 'You mean you're go¬ing to stay up there?'
His glance was faintly derisive. 'You catch on fast, dar¬ling.'
'But you never do that. Where will you stay?'
'At the flat. That's what it's there for, after all.'
The flat, she thought, swallowing, that he'd once shared with Sandie Wells. That must have its memories. So why had he chosen this particular moment to return to it?
'You said once you were going to sell it.'
'And then I changed my mind.' He shrugged, and fas¬tened his briefcase. 'At times like this, it's convenient.'
'Isn't this rather a sudden decision—to simply take off like this?'
'I used to be famous for it.' His voice was dry. 'But Vinnie's call seemed—opportune. It occurred to me that you've been under a lot of pressure, and that maybe you could do with some time and space to think about things. So, I'm letting you do just that.'
She stood very still, watching from the other side of the room, while a small frantic voice in her head whispered, don’t go. Don't leave me—please. Or—take me with you.
For a moment, she thought she had spoken aloud, and shock tightened her chest. Along with denial.
She said huskily, 'Are—are you getting the train?'
'No, I'm taking the car this time.'
'But it's late, and you've had a long day. You'll be tired...'
His brows lifted ironically. 'Why, Chessie, we seem to have skipped a bit. You sound just like a wife.'
She bit her lip. 'I'm sorry,' she said stiffly. 'Of course it's none of my business.'
'And you look a little fraught,' he went on. 'Surely it can't simply be concern for my welfare..'
'I've just been talking to Jenny,' Chessie admitted. 'I'm afraid I didn't handle it very well.'
'I suppose she told you she wasn't a child any more.'
'Something like that,' she agreed ruefully.
'In which she's perfectly correct, of course.'
'What do you mean?'
He said with faint impatience, 'You have
Jenny got to her feet. 'I call that rich coming from you, Chessie. Sort your own life out before you start handing out good advice, why don't you? Because from where I'm standing, you're a complete mess.'
And she flounced out of the room and slammed the door.
Well done me, Chessie thought, wincing. I made a really good job of that.
And she couldn't really argue with Jenny's parting shot either. She was in total chaos, lost in a kind of limbo, and uncertain what to do next.
The thought of how different it all might have been could never be far from her mind, of course. If only Alastair had returned a week—even a day earlier. If he'd never gone away in the first place, she thought sadly, and been there for her to turn to when her life collapsed around her.
Linnet was bound to have told him about her engagement by now. She seemed hell-bent on spreading the news far and wide, and would have particular malicious pleasure in telling Alastair, as the tensions between them had clearly not abated.
And this time Chessie would not be able to act as buffer between them.
But it was little use sitting here, tormenting herself with what might have been. She might be wearing Miles' ring, but that meant nothing. It was still a working day, and she was his employee.
As she came back into the main part of the house, she saw a battered leather travel bag by the front door. She gave it a frowning glance, then continued into Miles' study. He was there, over by his table. He'd changed, she noticed at once, into more formal clothing—dark trousers, and a jacket with a shirt and tie, and he was packing papers into his briefcase.
Chessie checked, staring at him. 'Are you going some¬where?'
'I called Vinnie back,' Miles returned, without pausing in his task. 'She wants to discuss my schedule once the current book is in. So, I said I'd go up to London for a couple of days.'
'A couple of days,' she repeated. 'You mean you're go¬ing to stay up there?'
His glance was faintly derisive. 'You catch on fast, dar¬ling.'
'But you never do that. Where will you stay?'
'At the flat. That's what it's there for, after all.'
The flat, she thought, swallowing, that he'd once shared with Sandie Wells. That must have its memories. So why had he chosen this particular moment to return to it?
'You said once you were going to sell it.'
'And then I changed my mind.' He shrugged, and fas¬tened his briefcase. 'At times like this, it's convenient.'
'Isn't this rather a sudden decision—to simply take off like this?'
'I used to be famous for it.' His voice was dry. 'But Vinnie's call seemed—opportune. It occurred to me that you've been under a lot of pressure, and that maybe you could do with some time and space to think about things. So, I'm letting you do just that.'
She stood very still, watching from the other side of the room, while a small frantic voice in her head whispered, don’t go. Don't leave me—please. Or—take me with you.
For a moment, she thought she had spoken aloud, and shock tightened her chest. Along with denial.
She said huskily, 'Are—are you getting the train?'
'No, I'm taking the car this time.'
'But it's late, and you've had a long day. You'll be tired...'
His brows lifted ironically. 'Why, Chessie, we seem to have skipped a bit. You sound just like a wife.'
She bit her lip. 'I'm sorry,' she said stiffly. 'Of course it's none of my business.'
'And you look a little fraught,' he went on. 'Surely it can't simply be concern for my welfare..'
'I've just been talking to Jenny,' Chessie admitted. 'I'm afraid I didn't handle it very well.'
'I suppose she told you she wasn't a child any more.'
'Something like that,' she agreed ruefully.
'In which she's perfectly correct, of course.'
'What do you mean?'
He said with faint impatience, 'You have
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