to get away. His untiring enthusiasm was making me feel old and weary.
‘Oh ye of…’ he said, waving a cheerful hand at me as he disappeared down the escalator.
I was walking up the hill to Lyndurst Villas when he rang me. I was glad not to be at home. Oliver was unlikely to be there, but I didn’t want to chance it. Another call from Nick Heysham would mean another unpleasant conversation.
‘Just thought I’d update my partner,’ he began. I sighed inwardly and wondered why he persisted in the fiction that we were in this together, especially as I was about to put a very large distance between us.
‘I’m catching the 15.45 tomorrow from Waterloo. It’s direct to Dorchester. So if you fancy a sojourn on the Dorset Riviera, you know what to do.’
‘Dorchester isn’t on the coast,’ I snapped, ‘and no, I don’t.’
I rang off abruptly. Nick seemed to have the gift of riling me without ever having to exert much effort. I supposed I shouldn’t be too surprised. The truth was that he was as free as a bird and I wasn’t. Furthermore, ever since I’d met him, he’d disturbed what had been a comfortable captivity.
As I let myself into the hall, I nearly tripped over Oliver’s leather safari bag while above I could hear someone moving around the bedroom. Startled, I went up the stairs two at a time. An open case lay on the bed and Oliver was bent over it, busily folding shirts. He looked up as I appeared in the doorway.
‘Ah, Grace, I’m glad you’re here. It saves me leaving a complicated message.’
‘And what would that be? Why the packing?’
‘I’m off to Newcastle.’
‘Now?’
‘That’s right. I think I told you that the exhibition was a rush job.’ His voice was smooth, but there was a distinct edge to it.
‘Not this rushed, surely.’
‘I’m not entirely happy with the arrangements—I told you that, too, I believe—and I need to be on the spot to troubleshoot.’
The idea of Oliver troubleshooting made me smile. He was an excellent communicator, an accomplished networker, but troubleshooting? He’d always been amazingly deft at avoiding it. It was fortunate that he was bent over his suitcase at that moment and didn’t notice my grimace.
‘I see.’
I didn’t, of course. I couldn’t understand the haste unless it was Oliver’s way of making sure I understood how badly I’d let him down, but I decided to be conciliatory. Thank goodness I’d not been tempted to go to Dorset. It looked as though tomorrow I’d be travelling in the opposite direction.
‘And when exactly do you want me there?’
‘No hurry. Come when it suits.’ His tone was indifferent.
I gaped at him. Was this the man who only yesterday was berating me for not being around when needed? I waded in.
‘Twenty-four hours ago you were crying on my shoulder, bemoaning the fact that Sue was a useless organiser and I was indispensable. So what’s happened to change that?’
He straightened up, but his eyes didn’t quite meet mine and before he could answer, the doorbell rang. The sound had a curious effect on him. His limbs almost jerked themselves into a scramble for the door as though he were a clockwork toy that had just been wound and released. It would have been comical if I’d been in the mood to laugh.
‘Stay there,’ I muttered crossly. ‘I’ll go.’
The face that looked at me across the threshold was young and pretty. Very pretty. Tousled blonde curls, slim figure, a smile as wide as the Thames estuary. But good teeth, I noted.
‘Yes?’ I wasn’t exactly welcoming.
‘This is Professor Brooke’s house?’ Her voice said she was nervous but undaunted.
‘It is. How can I help?’ I didn’t sound helpful.
She looked at my face and blanched ever so slightly.
‘Professor Brooke has asked me—’ She broke off and a relieved smile flooded the soft curves of her face. Oliver had come up behind me unheard.
‘Rebecca, how lovely to see you, my dear.’ Oliver’s voice was
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