‘That’s so sweet of you, Harriet. Thank you. Please come back and see us sometime.’
Harriet promised she would, then sent text messages to Dido and Tim, saying she’d be returning that day. She checked the house to make sure she’d left nothing behind, locked the familiar door and took her belongings out to the waiting taxi. As it drove away she looked back at End House with a sudden, sharp pang of misgiving, hoping she’d made the right decision.
When she let herself into the flat at lunchtime it was quiet, and remarkably tidy. Impressed, she took her bags into her room and unpacked the cushion bought in Cheltenham as a present for her friend. She went into Dido’s room to leave it on the bed, and dodged out again in a hurry. Her friend was still in bed, and she had company.
Harriet sighed. She was fond of Dido, but this particular aspect of sharing with her had its drawbacks. It was embarrassing, but not unusual, to run into one of Dido’s men friends outside the bathroom of a morning, but normally only at weekends. Sleepovers before a working day were a first. Harriet retreated to her room to unpack, then curled up with the daily paper bought on the way and had finished the crossword by the time Dido tapped on the door.
‘You can come out now. He’s gone.’
Her face wan under a fall of silky fair hair, Dido smiled guiltily when Harriet joined her in the tiny kitchen. ‘It’s been lonely without you. Welcome back. Shall I throw some lunch together?’
‘Sure you’re not too tired?’ Harriet batted her eyelashes. ‘Sorry I disturbed love’s young dream. I backed out in a hurry—honest.’
But there was no answering smile from Dido as she buttered bread. ‘I didn’t expect you back so early. Not that it matters, you know it wasn’t Tim—not that I’d ever try to poach on your preserves,’ she added hastily.
‘Whose were you poaching on, then?’
‘Nobody’s as far as I know. Louise from Regional Sales brought her brother to the pub to meet the rest of us for her birthday bash last night. He gave me a lift home, and it’s my day off today—’
‘So he stayed the night,’ said Harriet, resigned.
‘Why not?’ said Dido, flushing. ‘It’s different for you. You’ve got Tim.’
‘I go out with other men occasionally.’
‘But you don’t sleep with them. For you there’s only Tim. I don’t have anyone like that in my life.’
‘Oh, come on, you know loads of men.’
‘No one who matters—’ Dido’s head flew up in consternation as the buzzer sounded.
‘Don’t worry. If it’s your mystery lover back for seconds I’ll see him off. Hide in the bathroom.’
Harriet picked up the receiver and pressed the release button, and smiled, delighted, when she heard a familiar voice. Tim came in like a whirlwind, brandishing a carrier bag, grinning all over his face.
‘Great—you’re here already. I come with gifts, angel. Will you feed me, or are you entertaining a lover behind my back?’
‘Not today,’ said Harriet, engulfed in a bear hug. ‘I didn’t expect you so early. Have you come straight from Waterloo?’
‘I sure have, and I’m hungry.’
‘What a surprise! Ask Dido nicely and she’ll probably let you have something.’
‘And where is the fair Dido?’ asked Tim, wolfing a piece of bread.
‘In the bath, I think.’
He went to hammer on the bathroom door. ‘Come out, Dido. I’ve brought you a present, and I’m starving.’
‘Be gentle with her,’ said Harriet when he rejoined her. ‘She’s just got out of bed.’
He grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I shall handle her with kid gloves—or maybe not. She might like it too much.’
She laughed, admiring the new jacket and stylish haircut. ‘You look good. You obviously had a great time?’
‘The best. How did you survive your stay in Upcote?’
‘By leaving in a hurry.’
‘As bad as that?’ The familiar Devereux eyes narrowed on hers. ‘You shall tell me all later—ah!’ He turned as Dido, fully dressed and face perfect, rushed in to kiss him.
‘So what did you get up to in Paris, then, Tim Devereux?’ she demanded.
‘I’ll tell you over lunch if you’ll give me some food.’ He smiled coaxingly as he handed her a package. ‘I brought you some perfume guaranteed to send men wild with lust.’
Tim lifted Dido’s mood, as usual, but after the meal she bestowed a valiant little smile on him and got up to go.
‘I know you want to catch up with Harriet so I’ll pop out to do some shopping. See you later.’
‘What’s up with Goldilocks?’ asked Tim, after she’d gone.
Harriet sighed. ‘A man stayed the night.’
‘Not that unusual for Dido?’
‘It was someone she’d just met. Again. She worries me lately. She’s so desperate to find a man like you.’
‘Like me?’
‘I mean someone special in her life. She’s been detoxing, botoxing, having her teeth whitened, eyelashes dyed, and heaven knows what else.’
Tim eyed her closely. ‘You don’t do her kind of thing, do you?’
‘Invite strange men to stay the night?’
‘I meant the drastic beauty stuff.’
‘A bit of basic maintenance, otherwise what you see is what you get.’ She wagged a finger. ‘But don’t play the innocent. You know perfectly well that Dido’s got a crush on you.’
‘And you know perfectly well why she’s on a losing wicket.’ Tim drew Harriet down on the sofa, eyeing her sternly. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over Dido. It’s her life.’
‘I know.’ She grinned at him. ‘Now tell me what you really got up to on your trip.’
Half an hour later, when he was on the point of leaving, Tim remembered to ask what else had happened in Upcote.
‘Nothing much,’ she said casually, her stomach churning at the lie. ‘I had a couple of lazy days down there, then sold End House to your brother.’
‘At a cracking good price, I hope.’
‘Since you ask, yes.’ Harriet sighed. ‘I didn’t need much time to sort things out, after all. It’s a pity I docked a whole week from the Italian trip.’
‘You’ll still have a fortnight.’
‘Can’t wait!’
Tim smiled at her in approval. ‘You obviously got on a bit better with Jed if you let him have your beloved house.’
‘We agreed to a truce. But he strongly disapproves of my friendships with other men.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘He’s afraid I’ll hurt you.’
Tim shrugged. ‘Jed just can’t help feeling protective, love. Besides, I know you’ll never hurt me.’
‘Try telling your brother that,’ she said tartly.
Tim tapped her cheek with his forefinger. ‘Why is he always my brother? Can’t you force yourself to say his name?’
‘I’m never going to call him Jed. But I try to manage his given name now and then. It’s part of the new peace-keeping treaty. Which I agreed to solely to make you happy,’ she added, not quite truthfully.
‘You always make me happy.’ He held out a hand to pull her to her feet and held her close. ‘I missed you, Harry.’
‘I missed you, too.’ She held her face up for his kiss. ‘I’m glad you had a good time.’
‘I know you are.’ He stroked her hair gently.
She smiled and patted his cheek. ‘Now go home and get to bed early, you look tired. By the way, Dido’s throwing a party next Saturday. You’re invited.’
‘Of course I am. Tell her I accept with pleasure.’ Tim clapped a hand to his forehead, and took a package from his holdall. ‘I almost forgot. I brought boring scent for Dido, but for you something special.’
Harriet tore open the wrappings to find sexy wisps of underwear, with a label that made her mouth water. ‘Tim, you extravagant thing, they’re gorgeous, and the right size! Thank you. I’ll wear them under my new dress at Dido’s soirée.’
But after
Harriet had been through Dido’s strict cleanse/tone/moisturise routine before the party a few days later it was James she thought of as she made up her face. The caramel brown of her long, waving hair was natural, the shape under her new dress was all her own, and the effect was satisfactory even to her own critical eyes. She blew a kiss of approval to her reflection. He wouldn’t be there to notice, but even by James Devereux’s exacting standards the ugly duckling was quite a presentable swan these days.
Tim was still missing by the time the flat was packed to the doors with Dido’s guests.
‘Where is he?’ muttered Dido impatiently as they opened more bottles in the kitchen.
‘He’ll be here soon,’ Harriet assured her.
But when Tim finally put in an appearance he had company.
‘Hi, gorgeous,’ he said, kissing Harriet. ‘Jed called in to see me just as I was leaving, so he gave me a lift.’
‘Why, hello,’ said Harriet, wanting to clout Tim with one of the bottles he was carrying. ‘This is a delightful surprise. I’ll fetch Dido.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Tim gave her a guilty look, and plunged into the crowd with his offerings like a criminal bent on escape.
As well he might, thought Harriet, simmering.
‘I can leave right now, if you like,’ offered James dryly, but Dido raced up to gush over him, and press him to a drink.
‘How lovely to meet you at last,’ she cried. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’
‘And I about you,’ he said, smiling down at her in a way that won him such a delighted, flirtatious response only the arrival of more guests forced Dido to tear herself away.
James moved close to Harriet at once, like a hunter closing in for the kill. ‘Tim insisted I come in for a minute to say hello.’
‘Surely you’ve got better things to do,’ she muttered.
‘I wanted to see you,’ he said in a fierce undertone. ‘I called round to End House next morning but the bird had flown.’
‘It seemed like a good idea. This,’ she added rapidly, ‘is a bad one.’
‘I need to talk to you.’
Harriet backed away. ‘If it’s about the house—’
‘What are you two arguing about?’ demanded Tim, putting an arm round her shoulders.
‘We’re discussing End House,’ she told him.
‘I was just asking Harriet to meet me sometime to go over the details regarding furniture, and so on,’ said James casually.
‘Good idea,’ agreed Tim, delighted. ‘The three of us could have lunch together tomorrow.’
‘Come to the flat,’ James said promptly. ‘I’ll organise a meal.’
‘All right with you, love?’ said Tim eagerly.
‘Fine,’ she assured him, resigned.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then, about one,’ said James. ‘Say my goodbyes to the hostess, Tim. Harriet, perhaps you’d see me out.’
She went out into the hall, and closed the door on the uproar in the flat. James stood close in silence, his eyes so like and yet so unlike Tim’s, holding hers captive for a moment before he said the last thing she’d expected to hear. ‘You look beautiful, Harriet.’
‘Why, thank you.’ She smiled challengingly. ‘You like my swan outfit, then.’
‘You were never an ugly duckling,’ he said instantly. ‘Robert loves the lion, by the way.’
‘You’ve seen him?’
‘Stacy brought him with her when she came to see the garage flat.’ He moved closer. ‘We need to talk alone, Harriet. Just tell me where and when and I’ll meet you somewhere.’
She shook her head. ‘No need. I’ll just come to your place a few minutes early tomorrow.’
He raised a disbelieving black eyebrow. ‘Ah, but will you break the habit of a lifetime and actually turn up this time?’
‘Yes,’ she said curtly.
‘Good. I’ll be waiting. Goodnight, Harriet.’
James gave her a formal, unsmiling bow and left, taking Harriet’s zest for the party with him. Feeling oddly flat, she went to rescue Tim from a trio of Dido’s colleagues, and agreed gratefully when he suggested taking food and a bottle of wine to her room to enjoy their own private party. But when they stole away with their feast they found Harriet’s bed occupied.
‘That does it,’ said Harriet savagely, slamming the door shut. ‘I just have to get a place of my own.’
‘We could go back to mine,’ suggested Tim, once he’d stopped laughing.
She shook her head. ‘It’s late and I’m hungry. Let’s just sit out in the back area to eat this lot, and hope it doesn’t rain!’
As Tim was leaving, Harriet reminded him about their lunch date next day. ‘But there’s no point in your trekking here to pick me up tomorrow. I’ll meet you at your brother’s place.’
Tim eyed her accusingly. ‘Does that mean you’re going to duck out of it as usual?’
‘Certainly not. I have things to discuss with your—’
‘For God’s sake call him by his name,’ he said irritably.
‘All right, crosspatch. Go home to bed.’
Tim grinned penitently and gave her a hug. ‘Goodnight, love. See you tomorrow.’ He kissed her, drew back to yawn, and trudged off to the main entrance. He turned to look at her. ‘By the way, did I tell you that you look pretty damn scrumptious tonight, Harry?’
‘No, you didn’t. But others did!’
It was three in the morning before the last reveller had left, and for once Dido began tidying up without argument.
‘Tim left very early tonight,’ she complained, emptying ashtrays into a bin bag. ‘By the way, the famous Jed’s a bit gorgeous! Why didn’t he stay?’
‘No idea. By the way, Tim and I are having lunch with him tomorrow.’
Dido gave her a cynical look. ‘But are you actually turning up this time?’
‘We’ve got a few loose ends to tie up over End House, so I have to.’ Harriet yawned. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to the rest while I change my sheets for the second time in one day. I took Tim off to my room to eat our supper in peace, and walked in on a couple writhing about on my nice clean bed.’
‘Oh, God, that’s horrible!’ Dido shuddered. ‘What did you do?’
‘Nothing. We shut the door on them and took our supper outside. It could have been worse. It’s a fine night.’
‘I’m so sorry!’
‘Not your fault.’
Dido sighed as she began thumping sofa cushions. ‘I suppose that settles it, especially now you’ve sold your grandma’s house. You want a place of your own right away.’
‘Yes, I do,’ admitted Harriet. ‘Can you manage the mortgage yourself, or will you get someone else to share?’
‘I’ll be fine now I’ve had a pay rise.’ Dido collected a few glasses, her face still averted. ‘Are you and Tim going to move in together, then?’
‘Not yet. I quite fancy being on my own for a while.’
‘When you could be sharing with Tim? You’re mad!’
The prospect of lunch next day gave Harriet another of the restless nights plaguing her lately. Seeing James Devereux, unexpected and out of context, had shaken her badly, and he’d known it.
It was raining hard next morning, which gave Harriet the perfect excuse to dress down in khaki combats and black ribbed cotton sweater, to make it clear she didn’t look on the occasion as special. From the first day of James’ move, Tim had driven her mad with constant descriptions of his brother’s flat, which overlooked the Thames and occupied two floors of a redbrick Victorian warehouse James Devereux and his partner Nick Mayhew had transformed into luxury apartments.
Harriet paid off the taxi and dashed through the rain into the foyer to take the lift to the fourth floor. By the time she reached it she had her smile firmly in place when James, in jeans and chambray shirt, opened his door.
‘So you actually came, Harriet. Welcome.’ He stood aside to let her in. ‘Let me take your umbrella.’
Harriet’s tension van
ished at first sight of the apartment. The glazed brickwork and great arched windows of the original building housed an interior that looked like a film set for a science fiction movie. Semi-circular white sofas were grouped with glass tables and steel lamps to face a huge plasma-screen television with free-standing speakers, the white, steel and glass theme continued in a kitchen and dining area dominated, like the entire, light-filled living space, by panoramic views of the river.
‘Are you going to say something soon?’ said James, amused.
‘It’s not a lot like Edenhurst.’
‘True,’ he agreed. ‘What’s your verdict?’
‘For once Tim wasn’t exaggerating,’ she said obliquely, and walked to one of the windows to look at the spectacular view. ‘Isn’t it a bit like living in a goldfish bowl?’
‘I had fine-slat blinds fitted in the bedroom—though only a passing seagull could look in. Let me give you a drink,’ said James. ‘I’ve got champagne on ice—’
‘No, thanks,’ she said, so vehemently he took her by the hand and turned her to face him.
‘Relax, child.’
Harriet shook her head. ‘I’m not a child any more.’
‘No. It would be much simpler if you were.’ He dropped her hand. ‘So what can I offer you?’
She took a glass of fruit juice with her as he showed her the rest of the apartment. In the sparsely furnished bedroom Harriet gave a fleeting glance at the huge white-covered bed and looked round curiously. ‘Where’s your bathroom?’
‘Through here.’ James slid back an opaque glass panel behind the bed to reveal a mosaic-tiled shower, oval bath, and custom-made units in the glass, white and steel of the rest of the apartment. ‘Would you like to stay here by yourself for a moment?’ he asked tactfully.
‘No, thanks,’ she said, red-faced again, and splashed fruit juice down his chest in her haste to get away.
James grabbed a towel to blot his shirt, rolling his eyes. ‘Harriet, for God’s sake stop this sacrificial lamb act. I am not about to throw you on the floor and ravish you.’ He gave her a sudden smile. ‘Not that the idea lacks a certain appeal.’
Harriet let out a shamefaced little laugh. ‘Sorry! Have I ruined your shirt?’
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