He was going crazy, had to be. That’s certainly what it felt like, anyway. So every time he did manage to remember the programme and his mission to find out more about the work of the centre, he blurted out some tactless question that rubbed everybody up the wrong way.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had a staff of thousands, for goodness sake. He negotiated multi-million pound contracts all the time. Surely he could do a better job of finding out what he needed to know? There were only three days left before he had to return to Sheffield, and if he wasn’t going to donate to the Heath Centre, then he wanted to find another organisation to support. Charlotte’s folder of information was back at the house. Maybe it would focus his mind if he looked the charity up on the Internet.
‘Do we get to take a lunch break?’ he asked as the four of them sipped their coffee during a gap between customers.
When three pairs of eyes snapped quickly to his face, he realized he’d probably barked the question out again. Did he do that at work? He’d have to ask people when he got back. It certainly didn’t seem to make him popular here.
Bert muttered something into his styrofoam cup. It sounded a lot like ‘slacker’.
Alexia ignored it. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We take it in turns to take half and hour. You can go first, if you like.’ She was looking at him directly, the hazel flecks in her eyes bright.
A woman with two children approached the stall. Mark gratefully took the opportunity to turn away. ‘I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘I’ll take mine whenever. Hello, Madam, how can I help you?’
Feeling like a guilty schoolboy, Mark took a bite from the sandwich he’d bought on the way to the library, ignoring the ‘no eating and drinking’ sign displayed above the computers.
On the face of it, the figures in The Heath Centre’s annual report were very impressive. Out of the twenty-five people who had successfully completed qualifications at the centre last year, eighteen had gone on to secure jobs. Though he couldn’t help wondering about the unsuccessful seven. He’d have to try to find a subtle way of finding out about them.
Just then, someone familiar walked past the window outside. Bert. Quickly, Mark looked at the time on the computer. Whoops, he was due back at the stall.
Quickly logging out, Mark picked up his sandwich and left the library. As he emerged onto the street, he was just in time to see Bert heading into a pub.
A pub. Surely that wasn’t a good idea for an alcoholic? He’d have to go and have a word with the man – and something told him he wasn’t going to be very welcome.
With a sigh, Mark strode off towards the pub. It was a large place, but Mark tracked Bert down quickly. He was at a table by the window, a glass of beer in his hand, on its way to his mouth.
Bert’s expression was everything Mark had expected it would be when he saw Mark. ‘What do you want?’ he growled. ‘You should be back at the stall by now.’ And he started to raise his glass to his mouth again.
‘Don’t do it, Bert,’ Mark said, taking a step forwards.
‘Do what?’ Bert was looking at him as if he was a crazy man. ‘Here! That’s my pint!’
Mark took the pint he had grabbed from Bert’s hand and strode with it over to the bar. ‘Can I ask you to dispose of this drink please?’ he asked the barman. ‘The man you just served isn’t allowed to drink alcohol.’
‘I can get rid of it if you want,’ the barman replied, ‘but it’s not alcoholic,’ he said.
‘Which I would have told you myself if you’d given me a chance!’ Bert thundered, coming up behind Mark.
Oh no. His heart sinking into his boots, Mark picked up the pint and held it out to Bert. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘You’re right, I should have asked you. When I saw you come in here, I just assumed…’
‘That’s because you’re the type to always think the worst of people, that is.’ He took his pint and stomped back to his table. ‘Glass half empty type you are,’ he said, not seeming to notice the pun.
That was a bit rich, coming from Bert! Mark followed him. ‘And you’re not then, with all this talk of next week’s interview being a waste of time?’ he pointed out.
Bert shrugged. ‘That’s just being honest, that is.’ He looked directly at Mark as if he could see behind the cheap tracksuit to the Armani lifestyle Mark usually led. ‘Which is something I don’t think you are, with your top of the range mobile phone.’
Deciding it was best to ignore this, Mark apologised again. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Bert. I just didn’t want to see you go off the rails. I’m surprised you want to come to places like this, if I’m honest. It must be hard surely? Seeing everyone drinking.’
‘That’s why I do it,’ Bert grunted. ‘To test myself. Prove I can do it.’
Mark felt moved. ‘That’s very brave,’ he said.
Bert shrugged, and then looked at Mark in that piercing way again. ‘So what about you? What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘I told you,’ Mark said. ‘I saw you come in here and I thought – ’
‘To the Centre, I mean,’ Bert interrupted him. ‘What brings you to the Centre? I don’t hold with all this tosh about getting experience. You’re after something else. Don’t know what, but I just don’t trust you. You’ve got Alexia taken in, but not me.’
Mark felt a muscle begin to twitch in the side of his cheek. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Bert deserved the truth.
‘My brother was an alcoholic,’ he said Bert quietly. ‘I…I wasn’t able to do anything to help.’ Mark heard his voice begin to crack a little and gave a little cough in an attempt to cover it. ‘It’s too late for him, but I hoped that by… coming to The Heath Centre, I could be of some help to others in the same situation. That’s all.’ He stretched his lips into a smile. ‘Now, I’d better get back to the stall. Sorry again about the…mix up.’
Turning, he walked away, his mind filled with Jonathan. Funny, talented Jonathan, turning everything he touched to gold. They’d been best mates as children, with only a year between them, and they’d started out in business at roughly the same time. Even when Jonathan had got married to Helen and started a family, their relationship had stayed very close.
At first. Until everything began to spiral out of control. Then Jonathan had pushed Mark away, just as he’d pushed everyone else away. The only companion Jonathan had been interested in was to be found at the bottom of a bottle.
And even though it had all been Helen’s fault, Mark couldn’t help feeling he ought to have been able to do something to help his brother. Anything.
The stall was in view now, and there was Alexia with the sun shining on her hair and the bright yellow of her shirt. She was laughing at something a customer had just said, and she looked alive and vibrant. And incredibly sexy and attractive. Out of nowhere, Mark remembered Jonathan after he’d first met Helen. ‘Mark, she’s amazing!’ he’d said. ‘You’ve got to meet her! No, on second thoughts, wait a few weeks until she’s thoroughly smitten by me. Don’t want her falling for my big brother instead of me!’
It was the first time Jonathan had been in love and he’d been on fire for Helen, sweeping her up in a whirlwind of courtship and marrying her three months later. Now, looking at Alexia, for the first time Mark truly appreciated how his brother had felt. But just look where being in love had got Jonathan… No, there was no place for a serious relationship when you were working all the hours God gave.
* * * * *
Later, at the Turkish bath, Alexia, Laura and Julia lay dressed in fluffy white dressing gowns on sun loungers, eating freshly prepared sandwiches. Alexia hadn’t been enthusiastic when she’d seen Julia arriving with Laura, and sure enough, Julia had irritated her constantly while they’d been soaking up the heat in the steam room.
‘The man is sex on legs, Laura,’ she said, speaking about Mark. ‘Shame you missed him.’
Laura glanced at Alexia with a smile. ‘Is she exaggerating, Alexia? Or do you agree?’
‘She agre
es all right,’ Julia answered for her. ‘Never seen her blush so much. More hot flushes than the menopause!’
Later, when Julia went off to the loo, Laura glanced in her friend’s direction. ‘Don’t worry about her. You know what she’s like.’
‘Indeed I do,’ Alexia said, doing her best to smile. Normally, an evening at the baths was like a mini holiday, leaving her feeling thoroughly relaxed. But she suspected nothing was going to relax her tonight. It had been a strangely tense afternoon, with Mark hardly speaking and doing his very best to avoid speaking to her. She was professional enough to know that whatever was wrong with him, it probably had absolutely nothing to do with her, but that didn’t stop her from feeling fed up. She wished she could stop herself from thinking about him, but unfortunately he seemed to be the only subject Laura and Julia wanted to discuss.
‘You don’t seem yourself,’ Laura observed cautiously. ‘Anything you want to tell me while she’s gone?’
Yes. I think I’m falling for Mark Brown, and that’s crazy because I’ve only known him for five minutes and he’s obviously got problems. But he makes me feel alive – makes me want to do things I haven’t thought about for ages. And it’s particularly crazy, because I know at first hand that those kinds of feelings don’t really mean anything. Being in love isn’t real. It’s here today, gone tomorrow.
Love? What was she thinking of? She wasn’t in love with Mark Brown!
She did her best to smile at Laura before settling back on her sun lounger and closing her eyes. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Nothing.’
‘Sure?’ Beside her, Laura sounded doubtful. ‘Well, if you change your mind, I’m always happy to listen.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m back again!’ Julia announced unnecessarily, plonking herself back onto her lounger. ‘Goodness, what’s the matter with you two? Somebody died?’
Alexia pushed herself up to her feet. ‘I’m going for a dip in the plunge pool.’ she said. If icy cold water didn’t bring her to her senses, then nothing would.
‘Something I said?’ asked Julia, and her laugh was the last thing Laura heard before the water closed over her head.
Chapter Seven
Mark was sitting on a wall in the Centre garden, taking a tea break. He was tired. He’d slept really badly since arriving in Nottingham, and now he was craving his own bed. He might be sleeping in a mobile home at the moment, but it was still a home of sorts. But he wasn’t just missing home, he was missing work too. Having all this time to think just didn’t suit him. He hadn’t realized just how much there was lurking in the background waiting to be thought about. And he’d be only too happy to stuff it all back and slam the door shut on it again.
He longed for the oblivion of his work. And yet, and yet… Leaving here would mean no more Alexia in his life. Not that she was in his life. It was high time he remembered why he’d come here in the first place. There were only a few more days left. At least Alexia was out at meeting this morning, so she wasn’t there to distract him. It was a good opportunity to try to find out what happened to the seven people who hadn’t found jobs the previous year.
Mark got to his feet, his gaze casting around for someone likely to ask. Definitely not Bert. Apart from a cool nod, the man had been avoiding him this morning, which was fine with him. He’d regretted confiding in him about Jonathan almost straight away, and now he was afraid Bert would bring the subject up again.
Inside the building, he caught a glimpse of Julia, standing at the photocopier. Catching his gaze, she smiled and waved at him. Hmm, maybe. He headed indoors with his dirty cup. And regretted it almost immediately.
‘Well, hello,’ Julia said, dimpling at him. ‘And how are you today?’ Her skirt was short¸ and her top blouse button undone. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
Mark held up his dirty mug. ‘Just came in to wash up.’
That smile again. ‘Well, you know the way,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he said, aware of her following him. He’d wanted to talk to her, so that ought to be okay, so why did he feel a bit…well, uncomfortable?
In the kitchen, he ran hot water into a bowl and added a squirt of washing up liquid. It was hardly necessary for one mug that could have been rinsed out under the tap, but it gave him a little more time to find out about the unaccounted for seven.
He turned to smile at Julia and found her leaning on the worktop watching him, as if he were doing something very much more interesting than washing up.
‘So, this place seems pretty successful,’ he said, not really liking the way she was scrutinising his biceps. ‘Does everyone get a job after they get their qualification?’ Turning away from her, he put his clean mug on the drainer and began to empty the water from the bowl.
‘You don’t have to make conversation any longer, Mark.’ When Julia spoke, she was suddenly right behind him. Mark jumped, causing water to slosh down the front of his T-shirt.
Warily, he turned. ‘Er, I don’t think…’
Julia ignored him and, reaching out a lazy hand, she gently touched the wet fabric. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you’d better take it off?’
The door opened. Looking up, Mark saw it was Alexia, back from her meeting.
Julia didn’t look particularly worried. ‘Uh-oh,’ she said, taking her time to move away from Mark. ‘Better get back to my work.’ And she gave him one final, suggestive smile and sashayed off.
Alexia’s face was pink, the amber lights in her green eyes sparking. Mark sighed. ‘That wasn’t how I imagined it looked, I assure you,’ he told her.
Alexia turned away, disapproval in every line of her body. ‘If you choose to see Julia away from the centre, that’s entirely your affair,’ she said coldly. ‘But I’d be grateful if you’d keep such behaviour out of the Centre in future.’
Mark paused, studying the lines of her back. The tiny, nipped in waist and the incredibly erotic swell of her hips. The river of glorious hair rippling its way over her shoulders. He knew he’d never been so aware of anybody in his life before. Logic told him that if she hated him or thought he was involved with Julia, then his time here would be easier. He could put aside her attraction for him and get on with the business in hand. But the irrational part of him that was clamouring for her touch couldn’t bear her to think of him that way.
So he strode across the room, slashing the space between them. ‘There is no ‘behaviour’ between myself and Julia, and I have no intention of there ever being any,’ he said.
He watched Alexia’s eyes drop to the wet front of his T-shirt. They were close enough now for him to see a pulse beating quickly at the side of her neck. The urge to place his lips against it was practically overwhelming.
She looked up at him, wide-eyed, and everything else dissolved away – the sponsorship plan, every sensible reason he shouldn’t get involved with this woman. Any woman. There was nothing but an ache and a yearning that refused to be denied.
‘Alexia…’ His hands held her arms without him realising he had moved them, pulling her in closer.
‘Don’t…’ the word was husky and sounded more like an invitation than a denial. When she licked her lips he followed the movement of her tongue hungrily with his eyes. The need to kiss her, hold her, was overpowering. He needed it more than he had ever needed anything in his life.
Slowly, very slowly, his hands caressed her arms through her T-shirt and he began to lower his head. She didn’t move away. In fact she moved her head ever so slightly back, offering her mouth for his kiss.
Then the door opened suddenly, bashing against her back and sending her right into his arms.
Cursing silently, Mark saw Bert and another one of the trainees. Then he became aware of Alexia’s hands pushing him. ‘Let me go,’ she said to him under her breath.
Bert was looking at Mark with a surly expression as if he were deciding whether or not to tear his head off.
‘Excuse me,’ Alexia said, sweeping away.
&n
bsp; ‘She had something in her eye,’ Mark lied, walking past Bert quickly. But not quickly enough to miss Bert’s disbelieving grunt.
* * * * *
‘And if I ever catch you behaving like that in the Centre again, you’ll be suspended pending a formal enquiry, do I make myself clear?’
The blood was still roaring in Alexia’s ears. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was bellowing the warning to Julia or to herself. She’d come so very close to kissing Mark. If the door hadn’t opened on them, who knew what might have happened? She’d felt quite powerless to stop him. Herself.
‘As crystal,’ Julia said, studying her nail polish, before looking up at Alexia with an entirely unchastised smile, her head on one side enquiringly. ‘Though I can’t help asking myself whether you’re just the teeny tiniest bit jealous, Lexy?’
Alexia flushed scarlet. ‘Don’t call me Lexy!’ she snapped. ‘And don’t be so ridiculous!’
‘What’s going on here?’
The door had opened without either of them realising it, and Alexia turned to see Laura, baby Lily in her arms, gazing at them with concern.
‘Laura!’ Alexia said. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I was just passing, so I thought I’d pop in to see what all the fuss about your new volunteer was all about. Seems as if it’s a good job I did.’
Lily made a cheerful gurgling sound, holding her arms out to Alexia, and she reached out to take her from Laura, burying her hot face gratefully in the baby’s soft, milky skin.
‘Come on,’ Laura said, perching on the side of a desk. ‘Spill, one of you.’
‘Alexia just caught me and the hot volunteer about to make out,’ Julia told her with a cheerful shrug. ‘Sorry, Laura, it won’t happen again. He’s the sort to make you forget all about rules and regulations. You wait until you see him, then you’ll understand. But I promise I’ll control myself in the future. At least, in work time.’
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