The Secret Art of Forgiveness by Louisa George Page A

and thought how nice it would be to see him again on Sunday. They would be able to talk properly instead of through a crackly line that threatened to freeze at any given moment and made intimacy very difficult.
    Brett moved a little away from the screen and behind him she could see the stark white walls of his office space. When Baddermans had taken a lease on the building they’d had a senior management meeting during which she’d chosen the paint for that wall. Clean and fresh. She’d chosen the furniture. She’d chosen Brett, too. She looked down at her ring, then back at him.
    This was a brief working holiday. He was her real world. ‘Sorry, you’re right, I am very distracted. It’s hard not to be with so much going on. I’ll be glad to get home on Sunday.’
    â€˜Good. Well, okay, I’ll go now then. Can’t think of anything else we need to talk about. At least, not without you breaking off every couple of minutes.’
    It felt so stilted, so unlike them, and she knew it was her fault. ‘Brett… I’m sorry.’
    â€˜You’re in the middle of a lot of things and you can’t give your full attention to this call. It’s fine, honey. Really, it’s fine. I’m just not used to you being away. But I’ve got to go.’ He gave her a reassuring and not at all irritated smile and she relaxed a little. ‘I love you, Em. Email your flight details, I’ll be at the airport on Sunday.’
    â€˜Great. Good. That’s great.’ A lorry rattled by and she jumped at the noise. He was right; she was only managing to give everything half her attention. She needed to focus on one thing at a time, then she’d achieve a whole lot more and not annoy him in the process. ‘I’ll see you on Sunday, then.’
    â€˜Looking forward to it.’
    â€˜Yes. Me, too.’ And she was.
    Really.
    She was.
    ***
    Greta placed another pot of tea in front of Emily as she sat down. ‘He’s been fine. Look at him – bless, fast asleep.’
    The Judge had found a quiet, comfortable sofa near the children’s play box and dropped off. His head lolled to one side, not unlike the baby in the pushchair beside him – although not nearly as cute. But, Em thought with a sting, almost as helpless at times. What a wicked thing ageing was to reduce a once competent, fierce man to this. ‘I think all the excitement of the doctor’s visit has worn him out. I’m supposed to be taking him for a haircut, but I don’t want to wake him up, so I might as well stay here and finish a couple of things. Is it okay if I buy some more Wi-Fi time? I’ve used up my free allowance.’
    â€˜On the house. I only charge for it to stop the teenagers coming in and spending hours in here and not buying anything. It’s business sense, Sean says.’ Greta picked up an empty cup. ‘Ooohh… wow. I love your ring.’
    â€˜Oh. Yes. Thank you.’ Still reeling from the conversation with Brett, Emily glanced at her ring, then found herself wringing her hands. Stop it. They didn’t usually niggle at each other like that. They always agreed on everything. It was her fault, too; she’d growled at him for being excited about marrying her. What the hell was wrong with her?
    Greta smiled. ‘Engagement ring, is it?’
    â€˜Yes. Yes, it is.’ It felt strange talking about it after she’d shut Brett down, but Emily held her hand out so Greta could have a closer look.
    â€˜Oh, it’s gorgeous. Congratulations. Have you planned a date yet?’
    â€˜No, not yet. We’ve only been engaged for a few days, to be honest. There’s such a lot to organise, I wouldn’t know where to start.’
    Greta wiped her hands down her stripy apron, clearly a woman who knew about weddings. ‘Well, if I were you, I’d make sure I booked a venue well in advance. We made a snap decision to get