The conviction and desperation in her mother’s voice had sent a tremble through Chloe. What if her father were a criminal? Or a wife-beater? Perhaps he was in prison. She was glad to be sheltered from the truth. But even though she had repeated the conversation to Anthony, he had not taken the same view. Perhaps it was because he was that much younger, or because he needed to keep the myth of his father alive more than she did. All these years later he still couldn’t let it drop.
‘Look, Chloe,’ Anthony began, his hands working frantically as he tried to explain. ‘She doesn’t need to even talk about it. All she needs to do is to write down the facts she knows on a piece of paper, and I can take it from there.’
‘I don’t know,’ Chloe said, as the phone started ringing. She got up to answer it.
‘You didn’t call me back?’ Mark said without preamble.
‘I know, sorry,’ Chloe answered. ‘My brother turned up unannounced.’
‘Oh. Well, I was going to see if you were up to anything but I guess that means you are?’
‘You can come over,’ Chloe offered half-heartedly, not relishing the thought of introducing Mark and Anthony right then.
‘No, it’s okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well,’ Mark said, and hung up.
Chloe returned to the lounge feeling disgruntled at how the evening was turning out. While she’d been gone Anthony had switched chairs, found football on another channel and turned the sound up. She thought about starting another difficult conversation, then decided against it, and went to run a hot bath instead, thinking that surely there she would get some time to herself.
33
As Mark threaded his way through the logjammed traffic towards work, he felt the same vaguely churning stomach and dizziness that he’d had for weeks. He’d contemplated seeing a doctor, but his symptoms were too vague, and besides, he had an uncomfortable suspicion about them.
It had come to him last night as he had lain in bed and tried to stop thinking about her. Could he be
The prospect didn’t excite him much, particularly if this was how it made him feel. Love was awkward, vulnerable and emotional, and Mark felt he was the antithesis of all those things. And yet when he thought of Chloe, well, maybe he was more of a suppliant fool than he cared to admit.
He reached the kerb just as the cars and buses began their slow crawl forward, and tried to gain control of his feelings before he reached the office.
Chloe’s personality was what Mark thought of as understated, and that in itself spoke volumes to him. Every one seemed to like her; she was working on cases without antagonising people, yet was unafraid to assert her opinion, because she had the knack of making it sound like a point of view rather than the imposing assertion of fact that Mark went for, and it seemed to serve her just as well.
And she was very pretty, no one could deny that. He couldn’t wait to see the glamorous side of her at the ball tomorrow night. It would make a change from an array of suits in dull navy, black and grey, however well they fitted her slim frame.
He reached the double doors of the office building and tried to compose his thoughts into sharp focus on what lay ahead of him at work. No contact with Chloe, that was for sure. She’d been taken under the wing of one of the senior solicitors who worked in the family-law area that Chloe was keen on, whereas Mark was learning fast about the genteel cut and thrust of the English litigation system.
‘Morning, Mark.’
‘Oh, hi Dad.’ Mark resisted the urge to look down at his watch, hoping he was in at an acceptably early hour. Despite still living at home, Mark resisted coming to work with his father. He didn’t want to remind others that Henry was the primary reason he worked for this firm, as he felt it devalued his own standing and hard work in having got this far.
‘Busy day ahead?’ Henry Jameson peered at his son from underneath bushy eyebrows as he strode alongside him.
‘Is there any other type?’ Mark tried to joke, and watched his father smile, but without comment, making Mark feel slightly foolish for being so flippant.
They walked on in silence until they reached Mark’s office. Henry followed his son in, while Mark took off his coat and laid his briefcase down.
‘Mr Jameson?’
They turned as one to see Charlotte, the new secretary, standing by the door. She was looking at Mark but flicked a nervous smile towards Mr Jameson Senior as well on seeing him there.
‘Mr Zanuski has been on the phone already, wanting to discuss the Connell case – apparently they are missing some documentation.’
‘Okay,’ Mark said, ‘let me have the number and I’ll get onto it.’
Charlotte walked across the office and handed Mark a memo slip, then turned on her heel and left, seemingly un aware that Henry Jameson’s eyes were affixed to her shapely bottom.
Henry turned around with eyebrows once more aloft, and said, ‘What a looker.’
Mark smiled. There was no denying Charlotte was stunning, and by now he was used to his father’s comments on the aesthetic merits of the opposite sex.
‘Taking Chloe on Saturday?’ Henry asked.
‘Sorry? Oh, yes,’ Mark replied, looking down at the memo slip, already running through the forthcoming phone conversation in his head.
Henry nodded, looked like he was about to say something, then changed his mind. ‘Okay, well, I’ll see you later,’ he said. ‘I’m in meetings all day today.’
Mark nodded absent-mindedly, and when he looked up a moment later Henry had already gone.
When Chloe peeped around the door of his office at lunchtime, Mark’s head was still buried in his work.
‘Want me to bring you anything?’ she asked.
Mark looked up and smiled, trying to quell the surge of pleasure in his chest at seeing her.
‘If you’ve got time?’ he asked.
‘Of course, what would you like?’
She was back with sandwiches fifteen minutes later, and came and sat opposite him without being invited, opening her own paper bag and pulling out a roll. Mark normally didn’t like unagreed-to interruptions, but he couldn’t be annoyed at her when she smiled at him like that.
‘How are you getting on?’ she asked between bites, nodding towards his desk.
Mark blew out his breath and looked briefly at the ceiling then back at Chloe. ‘There’s a lot to do.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, wrapping the paper bag around the roll and making to get up, ‘I should let you get on.’
‘No, no,’ Mark found himself saying, even though two minutes ago he’d thought exactly that. ‘Ten minutes doesn’t matter.’ He unwrapped his own sandwich, and said, ‘How’s your brother then?’ before taking a bite.
‘Okay, I think,’ Chloe answered, ‘though he’s about to cause a few ructions in the family. He wants to push Mum into giving him information about our father.’
Mark swallowed his mouthful, then said, ‘Really? And what do you think?’
‘I still think it’s best left alone, but there’s no reasoning with him – besides, who am I to stop him if it’s important to him?’
‘You might get dragged into it, though.’
‘I might well,’ she agreed, looking resigned.
They ate silently for a few moments, then Chloe said, ‘Actually, I was wondering… if you think it’s too soon just say, but my family always have a party of some kind the weekend before Christmas, and I thought maybe you might like to come… if you haven’t got any other plans.’
Mark beamed. ‘That would be great.’
‘Okay.’ Chloe smiled. ‘It’s a long drive, though, so we might have to stay a couple of nights for it to be worth
