‘Do you mind if I join you?’
She looked up to see Carson Page standing, regarding her gravely.
‘Are you waiting for someone?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Dan-my boyfriend. He’s a little late.’
‘Then I’ll only stay a moment.’ He sat down. ‘I just wanted to let you know that your car will be finished the day after next.’
‘I know. I called the garage. Mr Page-’
‘Carson.’
‘Carson, I had no idea you were going to replace the engine. There was no need for that.’
‘According to the garage, there was every need.’
‘You know what I mean. I want to pay you-not immediately, but in instalments-’
‘All right, pay me one day. Now, can we forget this?’
She agreed, with a horrid suspicion that she was boring him. ‘How did you know I’d be here?’ she asked.
‘I was going to drop in at your office, but I arrived just as you were getting into a taxi. So I told my taxi to follow you.’
He ordered himself a drink, and she watched him, trying to tie this man in with the ogre Dulcie had described. ‘Difficult and demanding’ she could understand. Even when he was being kind, his air of pride and self-will were unmistakable. A bad enemy. A man who expected things done his way, and at once. A disturbing man. An exciting man.
She tried to brush that idea away, but it lurked on the fringe of her consciousness, taking little pot-shots at her more sedate thoughts.
He was different from other men, as a lion was different from kittens. She wished Dan would hurry up and arrive. Something was happening here that was threatening her carefully constructed world, and if she hurried she might still be in time to avoid it.
‘What about your car?’ she asked, hoping that her voice wouldn’t shake and betray her inner confusion.
‘It’ll be ready by tomorrow.’ He looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Seven-twenty. What time was your date supposed to arrive?’
‘Any time about now,’ she prevaricated. Dan should have been there at seven. ‘He’s very busy.’
‘So am I, but if I make a date with a lady I’m punctual.’
‘Actually I’m early. I don’t expect him until seven-thirty,’ she said defiantly.
‘If you say so.’ His dark eyes warned her not to try to fool him.
‘What did you think of Philip Hale?’ she asked, valiantly searching for a new topic of conversation.
‘He’s everything you said. Brilliant-couldn’t have a better man-for a limited range. Also the biggest bore in creation. Never says anything once if he can say it ten times.’
She choked into her sherry and put it down hastily, her shoulders shaking.
‘Don’t smother it,’ he advised her. ‘Laugh aloud. He isn’t here to know.’
‘I shouldn’t think anyone’s ever spoken about him that way before,’ she chuckled.
‘Nonsense. Everyone who’s ever met him must have said something like that as soon as they escaped.’
He hoped she would go on laughing, because her laughter made the sun come out again. But she controlled herself, pressing her lips together, although her eyes still brimmed with fun. He would have to make do with that.
‘Anyway, bore or not, I’ve decided to take him on. I’m seeing him again tomorrow, heaven help me! He’s a good lawyer, within his range. Do you have a speciality?’
‘Property and commercial law.’
‘So you might be doing some of my work?’
There was a noise in the background. Gina leaned forward, frowning. ‘Could you repeat that?’
‘You might be doing some of my work.’ He saw her watching him intently. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m deaf,’ she said simply.
‘Nonsense!’ he said brusquely. ‘You
Gina’s face broke into the happiest smile he’d ever seen.
‘Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me since-since I went deaf.’
He frowned. ‘But you seem to be hearing me quite normally. Are you saying you’ve been lip-reading all this time?’
‘Oh, no. I have a cochlear implant that helps me. I can hear most things, but if there’s background noise I sometimes miss a few words.’
Before her eyes he changed. A heaviness seemed to settle over him. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘I never suspected-’
‘Why should you? Apart from the odd moment, I’m just like everyone else.’
‘Yes, of course. Forgive me. I was just thinking-’
Gina watched him in dismay. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She was used to people who flinched at the word deaf, who couldn’t cope with even the thought.
But not this man, surely? She’d been so sure that he was special that she’d admitted her problem without worrying. Now her heart sank at the thought that he might be no better than the others.
The discovery hurt, but she couldn’t escape it. There was no mistaking the chill, withdrawn look that had come over his face. He no longer knew what to say to her.
To her relief she saw Dan hurrying towards her, dodging between the tables. ‘Darling, I’m so sorry I’m late. Something came up…’
Carson rose quickly. ‘I gather this is your date. I won’t keep you.’ He nodded politely at Dan and walked away.
‘Who was that?’ Dan asked, kissing her on the cheek.
‘Carson Page. I bashed his car.’
‘Good grief!
‘No, he isn’t,’ Gina said with a little sigh. ‘He’s just like all the rest.’
The next afternoon, the receptionist called to say that there had been a delivery for Gina. Dulcie was deep in correspondence, so Gina went out herself. And that was how she saw Carson Page arriving, accompanied by a little boy of about eight. The child had a pale, intelligent face, and he looked nervous.
Philip Hale arrived, full of an effusive greeting, which Carson returned politely, but with a cool restraint that would have warned a subtler man than Hale.
It was strange, Gina thought, how the child showed no awareness of the conversation going on over his head. Almost as if…
I’m imagining things, she thought, giving herself a little mental shake.
True to his word, Carson gave no sign of recognising Gina, but followed Philip Hale, his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
‘I wonder what’s the matter with that child?’ Gina said to the young woman receptionist.
‘Poor little kiddie. Tossed from pillar to post. Parents not speaking, using him as a weapon. Apparently, Mr Page is trying to stop his ex having any access to Joey at all.’
‘That’s wicked!’ Gina exclaimed.
Her view of Carson Page took another knock. Obviously his friendliness the day before had been an aberration, and there was something much more unpleasant beneath the surface.
She returned to her office and got down to business. She worked for half an hour, then she leaned back in her chair, yawned and stretched. It was late afternoon and the sun was hot.
She’d happened to glance out of her window, overlooking the main road, and something she saw there made her spring to her feet.
‘What’s that child doing there?’ she demanded, aghast.
It was Joey Page. He was wandering in the busy road, apparently oblivious to the furious honks from the motorists around him. As she watched, a car missed him by an inch. The motorist bawled at him, but the little boy merely looked bewildered, as though nothing that was happening to him was real.
‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered. ‘He doesn’t know-he can’t-’
