lights, she grabbed her bag, pulled the office door closed behind her and dashed up the stairs to her flat.
Thirty-one minutes later, Mac pushed the buzzer as directed, and waited. Not hearing a response through the intercom or footsteps on the other side of the door, he turned the handle and, finding it open, walked inside and up the stairs. The first floor was in darkness and locked up tight.
Putting two and two together, he went up the next flight, pausing at a dirty white door. The standard simple lock was unlatched, and when he rapped lightly the door swung open. He frowned at the tinny sound of a hollow door. Two pieces of ply, glued and painted. No wonder she didn’t bother locking up. You could bloody well push it over easy enough.
He stepped into a big open space. Just short of being empty, it was sparsely furnished, but a few items of comfort and personality, of Ginny, were scattered around.
‘Ginny?’ Mac noted the two closed doors across the room and guessed bathroom and bedroom — both off limits.
‘Ginny? It’s me, Mac. The door was open so …’
The door closest to the kitchen swung open and Ginny’s head appeared. ‘Mac? Sorry — I’m running a bit behind. Be right with you. Um …’ Her arm reached out, indicating the couch. The door closed again with a bang. He went and sat, breathing out a satisfied sigh as the couch surrounded him. He looked around, taking in wonky blinds, scuff marks on the skirting board. He winced at the state of the naked floorboards. They’d be beauties, if done up right.
‘Hiya,’ Ginny reappeared a few minutes later wearing standard-issue jeans and T-shirt, hastily tying back her hair as she walked toward him. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘Not at all. Great couch.’
She laughed as she reached to stroke the back of it. ‘Yes — it’s a cracker, isn’t it? My pride and joy. Some women have cars, or handbags — children even. This is my baby.’
He grinned, enjoying the genuine pleasure in her voice. ‘The floorboards, though, Ginn.’ He indicated a particularly scuffed section near the kitchen. ‘They could be shown a bit more love and respect.’
‘Respect?’ She raised an eyebrow.
Don’t push it, Mac, he reminded himself. Back off. ‘Right,’ He slapped his knees and rose to his feet. ‘Dinner, m’am?’
‘Sure thing. Let’s go.’
When she closed the front door after them, he reached past her and checked it before they went down the stairs.
‘Satisfied?’ she asked wryly.
‘Don’t you ever lock up?’
‘Yes — why?’
‘The place was wide open when I came in.’
‘I told you. I was running late — I didn’t want you standing outside like a gormless idiot.’
Reaching the street, Mac led her to where he’d parked his car. ‘Good day?’
‘Yeah,’ she smiled, ‘pretty good, thanks.’
When he stopped at a sleek, shiny black Lexus, Ginny raised an eyebrow. ‘This is where my tax dollar goes, hmmm?’
‘No, not at all.’ He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘It’s one of Dad’s. I, ah … borrow it when I’m in town.’
‘He must be pretty happy to have you back then?’ She slid onto the soft leather seat. ‘To let you have the run of this?’
‘He’s stoked. But I’m not complaining,’ said Mac as he turned the key.
Their corner table was hemmed in by others but the position gave a modicum of intimacy.
Ginny fidgeted in her seat. ‘I would have worn something else if I’d known we were coming here.’
‘You look great.’ Mac sat with his arms folded on the table, studying her.
She looked up and their eyes collided. She flashed back to the mental checklist she’d run through earlier that afternoon and felt that squeeze again. It made her frown.
‘Thanks. So do you.’ She scanned the menu. ‘So, Mac. What’s the skinny? Why are you back?’
‘I told you. I just wanted a bit of a break — you know, summer holiday.’
She gave him a deadpan expression. ‘Right. Annual
Thirty-one minutes later, Mac pushed the buzzer as directed, and waited. Not hearing a response through the intercom or footsteps on the other side of the door, he turned the handle and, finding it open, walked inside and up the stairs. The first floor was in darkness and locked up tight.
Putting two and two together, he went up the next flight, pausing at a dirty white door. The standard simple lock was unlatched, and when he rapped lightly the door swung open. He frowned at the tinny sound of a hollow door. Two pieces of ply, glued and painted. No wonder she didn’t bother locking up. You could bloody well push it over easy enough.
He stepped into a big open space. Just short of being empty, it was sparsely furnished, but a few items of comfort and personality, of Ginny, were scattered around.
‘Ginny?’ Mac noted the two closed doors across the room and guessed bathroom and bedroom — both off limits.
‘Ginny? It’s me, Mac. The door was open so …’
The door closest to the kitchen swung open and Ginny’s head appeared. ‘Mac? Sorry — I’m running a bit behind. Be right with you. Um …’ Her arm reached out, indicating the couch. The door closed again with a bang. He went and sat, breathing out a satisfied sigh as the couch surrounded him. He looked around, taking in wonky blinds, scuff marks on the skirting board. He winced at the state of the naked floorboards. They’d be beauties, if done up right.
‘Hiya,’ Ginny reappeared a few minutes later wearing standard-issue jeans and T-shirt, hastily tying back her hair as she walked toward him. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘Not at all. Great couch.’
She laughed as she reached to stroke the back of it. ‘Yes — it’s a cracker, isn’t it? My pride and joy. Some women have cars, or handbags — children even. This is my baby.’
He grinned, enjoying the genuine pleasure in her voice. ‘The floorboards, though, Ginn.’ He indicated a particularly scuffed section near the kitchen. ‘They could be shown a bit more love and respect.’
‘Respect?’ She raised an eyebrow.
Don’t push it, Mac, he reminded himself. Back off. ‘Right,’ He slapped his knees and rose to his feet. ‘Dinner, m’am?’
‘Sure thing. Let’s go.’
When she closed the front door after them, he reached past her and checked it before they went down the stairs.
‘Satisfied?’ she asked wryly.
‘Don’t you ever lock up?’
‘Yes — why?’
‘The place was wide open when I came in.’
‘I told you. I was running late — I didn’t want you standing outside like a gormless idiot.’
Reaching the street, Mac led her to where he’d parked his car. ‘Good day?’
‘Yeah,’ she smiled, ‘pretty good, thanks.’
When he stopped at a sleek, shiny black Lexus, Ginny raised an eyebrow. ‘This is where my tax dollar goes, hmmm?’
‘No, not at all.’ He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘It’s one of Dad’s. I, ah … borrow it when I’m in town.’
‘He must be pretty happy to have you back then?’ She slid onto the soft leather seat. ‘To let you have the run of this?’
‘He’s stoked. But I’m not complaining,’ said Mac as he turned the key.
Their corner table was hemmed in by others but the position gave a modicum of intimacy.
Ginny fidgeted in her seat. ‘I would have worn something else if I’d known we were coming here.’
‘You look great.’ Mac sat with his arms folded on the table, studying her.
She looked up and their eyes collided. She flashed back to the mental checklist she’d run through earlier that afternoon and felt that squeeze again. It made her frown.
‘Thanks. So do you.’ She scanned the menu. ‘So, Mac. What’s the skinny? Why are you back?’
‘I told you. I just wanted a bit of a break — you know, summer holiday.’
She gave him a deadpan expression. ‘Right. Annual
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