jobs.
And Liza ... well, Liza hadn’t spoken to her since their fight and wasn’t likely to, considering the snide — and deeply unfair — remarks she’d made about Kit Berenger.
Altogether, what with avoiding Brunton Manor because of Liam — not to mention being unable to face all those women who knew what a prat she’d made of herself over him — her remaining options were limited.
I could go shopping, thought Dulcie, but even the prospect of spending money on unnecessary luxuries failed to exert its usual seductive pull.
She bit her lip and gazed out of the window. The alternatives were equally dreary.
She could – heaven help her – Go For A Nice Walk. This had always been her mother’s antidote to terminal teenage boredom.
The answer was still no thanks.
Or she could have a bath, eat biscuits and lie on the sofa watching wall-to-wall rubbish on television.
At that moment the phone rang. Dulcie’s spirits soared as she raced to answer it. Talk about fate.
‘Hi, Dulcie? Brad Pitt speaking. You must come to my party ...’
Or:
‘Dulcie, hey! It’s me, Sting. I’m sending the helicopter for you, okay? You’re spending the day with us.’
Anything like that, really. Just something fun.
‘Dulcie. Good, you’re at home. All right if I drop by in about half an hour?’
Okay, so it wasn’t Sting, but Dulcie still felt her heart do a clumsy somersault.
Half an hour, she thought breathlessly. I can either shower, get dressed and do my face, or lie in the bath until he gets here and saunter downstairs in a towel.
When the doorbell rang exactly twenty-eight minutes later, Dulcie sauntered downstairs in a towel. Her black hair was slicked back from her face and her wet, Floris-scented skin glistened.
Her green eyes, with their ultra-white whites, were bright with anticipation and half a bottle of hastily flung-in Eye Dew.
The dark-blue velour towel, fetchingly clutched around her in a just-got-out-of-the-bath kind of way, could have been larger but it set off Dulcie’s tan beautifully.
‘Hi.’ Patrick barely glanced at either the towel or the tan. He strode past Dulcie into the hall.
‘Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday. Won’t be a sec; I just need to pick something up.’
He sounded distant and briskly efficient, like a bankmanager. As she closed the door, Dulcie’s suspicions were confirmed. Claire Berenger was sitting in the passenger seat of Patrick’s car.
When she saw Dulcie she smiled and waved.
‘Off to play frisbee in the park?’ Dulcie couldn’t help it. The taunt slipped out as Patrick made his way through to the sitting room. Leaving a trail of wet footprints, she followed him.
‘Liam not around?’ Patrick countered.
‘Oh ha ha,’ said Dulcie bitterly. ‘Please don’t pretend you don’t know.’
He turned.
‘Don’t know what?’
‘Come on, your spies must have told you. It’s over between me and Liam.’
He looked genuinely shocked.
‘I had no idea. The girl from the office downstairs is away on holiday.’
‘Funny, you’d think Liza might have mentioned it.’ Dig dig.
Patrick ignored this. ‘I haven’t seen Liza for weeks. When did it happen?’ His eyes darkened with concern. ‘God, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry. How are you coping?’
Pride welled up. Defiantly, Dulcie lifted her chin. ‘Fine. I’ve got myself a job.’
‘But the baby—’
Oh hell, this wasn’t going to plan at all. She’d completely forgotten about the baby.
‘There isn’t one.’ Best to just blurt it out, she decided wearily.
But the look on Patrick’s face was extraordinary. ‘Oh, Dulcie ...’
As he said her name, his voice broke. The next thing Dulcie knew, he had his arms around her.
He was holding her, hugging her. She breathed in the blissfully familiar smell of his skin. It felt wonderful, but she knew she had to get a grip. She had to start telling the truth.
‘I didn’t lose the baby,’ Dulcie muttered, wishing the hug could go on forever. ‘There never was one in the first place.’
‘What?’
‘I thought I was pregnant.’ She kept her face buried against his chest. Oh well, she’d told enough truth for one day. ‘But I wasn’t. It was a mistake.’
The comforting hug was taken away. Uncertain now, Patrick stepped back and pushed his fingers through his
