by Sara Craven
'Maria?' His face relaxed into a smile. 'So, how's it going?'
As evening approached Olivia was on tenterhooks, pacing up and down her room, eyeing her mobile phone. Willing it to ring.
When it finally obliged, she pounced on it with a sob of relief. 'Jeremy?'
'No, it's Beth. Just calling to see how you're settling in?' Beth paused. 'I gather lover boy isn't around?'
'Not at the moment.' Olivia managed to sound amused as well as rueful. 'I would choose a weekend when he's working away. But I'm expecting him back any minute now,' she added hastily.
'Then I won't keep you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and check on your address. It is number sixteen, isn't it?'
Olivia hesitated. 'No,' she said reluctantly. 'Actually it's 21B Lancey Terrace. As Jeremy wasn't here, I thought it was better to establish my own base. I've found this terrific bedsit. Cheap too. I can't believe how lucky I've been.' She paused, aware of the over-brightness in her tone.
'Well,' Beth said, after a pause of her own, 'just as long as you're OK. Let me know how the job-hunting goes.'
'I will. Bless you.' Olivia switched off the phone and put it down beside her on the sofa, homesickness washing over her like a tidal wave. She'd planned to call her parents, but wasn't sure she could manage it without bursting into tears and worrying them both to death. Better to wait until she had some good news for them, she thought. Something that would lift her own spirits too.
She wasn't used to hiding things from the people she loved, or pretending. She'd let them think that coming to London was a career move. She hadn't told them that her future included Jeremy, because she knew they wouldn't approve while he was still nominally a married man.
She wished she could have confided in Beth. Admitted that nothing was working out as she'd planned. That she felt stranded, and lonelier than she'd ever dreamed.
And threatened, she realised, as an image of Declan Malone's dark, unsmiling face forced its way into her mind. She'd made an enemy there that she didn't need.
She switched on the television and tried to interest herself in a detective series she usually enjoyed, but the twists and turns of the plot couldn't hold her attention tonight.
It was midnight when she finally came to terms with the certainty that Jeremy was not going to telephone after all.
And it was another hour before she eventually cried herself to sleep.
She felt tired and jaded the next morning, which wasn't how she needed to present herself at all, she thought, giving herself a mental kick. She was looking for a job, and she wanted to impress.
She dressed with extra care, choosing a dark grey suit with a faint pinstripe, a white shirt, and black pumps with a medium heel.
She would settle for temporary work to ease her immediate cash-flow situation, she'd decided, but she also planned to register with a couple of recruitment agencies. Try and capitalise on her computer skills.
Perhaps, when she and Jeremy were living together and settled, she'd freelance, working from home, she told herself, determined to be positive about their relationship.
After all, there could be a dozen reasons why he hadn't rung her last night. And she wasn't going to allow herself any more doubts, or fits of the blues.
But if she'd hoped to walk straight into the perfect job, she was disappointed. The first temp bureau she visited had a full quota already, she was told, and the second could only offer part-time work at rates that wouldn't even pay the rent, let alone feed her.
She was climbing the stairs to a third place when her phone rang.
'Livvy?' Jeremy asked. 'Darling, what on earth are you doing here? I could hardly believe my ears when I got your message.'
Olivia leaned against the wall, aware of a small, painful knot in her chest.
She said, 'Aren't you pleased?'
'I'm delighted, naturally,' he said quickly. 'But a bit stunned too. I mean, we didn't actually discuss this—did we?'
'Maybe I felt it was time for action rather than words.' There was a crack in the plaster beside her. It looked like the shape of a pregnant woman, she thought, tracing it with her finger. She said, 'When am I going to see you?'
'Well—tonight, obviously.' He paused. 'How about we meet for a drink when I finish work.'
'A drink?' she echoed, trying to fight down her instinctive dismay. 'But, Jeremy, we need to talk—make some plans.'
'Of course we do, and we will.' He sounded brisk. 'But I'm a bit pushed at the moment Now, there's a bar near Liverpool Street Station called Dirty Dick's. I'll see you there at five-thirty. Bless you, sweetheart. Must dash.'
Olivia switched off her phone and replaced it in her bag. It wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting, she thought flatly, but at least he wasn't angry about her gaffe at Declan's. And in a few hours she was going to see him.
She straightened her shoulders and continued her way up the stairs.
Just hearing Jeremy's voice on the phone seemed to have changed her luck, because the woman who interviewed her this time seemed friendly and upbeat about Olivia's chances of finding work.
'However, it won't necessarily be in this area,' she said. 'We have several branches, and clients all over London, and we deal with everything from large multinationals down to one-man bands. Do you drive?'
'Yes, but I don't have a car. Travelling doesn't worry me, though,' she said, mentally crossing her fingers.
'And you've no ties? No children to be picked up from school?'
'I'm not married.'
The other woman raised her eyebrows. 'What difference does that make these days?' She handed Olivia an application form. 'Complete these details for me, please, including a daytime telephone number where you can be contacted, and I'll have a placement for you by the end of the week—or earlier, maybe, if someone calls in sick.' She produced another form. 'And these are the agency's terms and conditions of employment Read them through, and sign at the bottom if you're satisfied.' She paused, and smiled. 'My name's Sandra Wilton. Welcome to Service Group.'
Olivia allowed herself a modest lunchtime celebration of a hot chicken sandwich and a diet drink, then set out to unravel the mysteries of the London Underground system.
By the end of the day she was confident enough to launch herself towards the City on the Central Line.
She found Dirty Dick's quite easily, hesitating for a moment over whether to choose the door straight ahead of her or go downstairs. She opted for street level, pausing just inside the door so that her eyes could readjust to the subdued lighting. It was a big room, with a long bar, a wooden floor, and barrels for tables.
It was already filling up noisily with dark City suits and briefcases, and Olivia paused, staring around her, trying to locate Jeremy.
She saw him at last, waving at her from the side of the room, where a shelf had been built along the wall, and equipped with stools for customers who preferred to sit.
Her heart leapt as she threaded her way through the laughing, chattering groups, but she couldn't help wishing that he'd come to her.
'Darling.' His arms closed round her, hugging her tightly against him. 'This is amazing. God, it's so good to see you. I've missed you so much.'
'I've missed you too.' Now that the moment of truth had come, she felt oddly shy. 'That's why I came.'
'My love.' His eyes caressed her. 'I wish this wasn't such a public place.' His smile was intimate—warming. He paused. 'I ordered dry white wine for you. I hope that's all right.' He handed her a glass, then raised his own. 'And there's only one possible toast To us.'
'To us,' she echoed, filling her eyes with him. He was wearing an immaculate dark blue suit, and his hair had been cut shorter than she'd seen it before. Almost severe. And, she thought fondly, he'd put on a little weight. But she wouldn't tell him that.
'So,' he said. 'Where are you staying and how long are you going to be here?'
'How long?' Olivia repeated uncomprehendingly.
'Well, yes, sweethe
art. Have you got a week—two weeks?'
The wine tasted sharp suddenly, leaving bitterness in her throat.
She tried to laugh. 'Jeremy—I'm here for good. I—I thought you realised that.' She took a deep breath. 'I've got a bedsit, and I'm looking for a job.' She paused. 'Didn't Declan Malone tell you?'
'No, of course not. He just said you'd been to the house, asking for me,' Jeremy said slowly. 'Livvy, let me get this straight. You're telling me you've thrown up everything in Bristol and moved here? Without a word to me first?'
'I thought you'd be pleased.' Her voice faltered slightly. 'After all, it's what we always intended.'
'Yes, I know.' His voice held a touch of impatience. 'But not at this particular moment in time. It could cause—problems.'
Olivia stiffened slightly. 'With Declan?'
'He's certainly part of it' He grimaced. 'Thank God you were discreet when you went to the house.'
'What do you mean?' Olivia asked uneasily.
'I mean letting him think that we're old acquaintances from Bristol days, and you simply came round to look me up while you were in town.'
She thought in bewilderment, But I didn't—and he doesn't What's going on? What game is Declan playing?
She said quietly, 'Would it be so terrible if he knew the truth?'
'It could be disastrous.' Jeremy frowned. 'Listen, darling, I want a no-blame, no-hassle divorce, with a clean-break settlement. That's essential, believe me. If Maria found out about you—if Declan told her…'
His frown deepened. 'Well, she's a hotshot lawyer. Need I say more? She could string the whole thing out until doomsday—find all kinds of sticks to beat me with.' He gave her an intense look. 'Do you understand what I'm saying?'
'I think so.' Olivia put her glass down on the shelf. Now, if ever, was the time to confess that their secret was already blown, she realised unhappily. But she already knew that she couldn't risk Jeremy's anger. That she wasn't going to say a thing.
She said, 'So, you want me to keep up the pretence— maintain a low profile?'
He nodded. 'Just for a time, my sweet While I'm still living with Declan. You must see that I have to tread carefully.'
'Wouldn't it be better to find a place of your own?'
'Of course it would. And I am flat-hunting. But it's not that simple. I need something in absolutely the right area.' He paused. 'Where are you living, by the way?'
'Not far from you. I'm in Lancey Terrace with someone called Sasha.'
'That old witch,' Jeremy said disagreeably. 'How did you find her?'
She bit her lip. 'It was Declan. I—mentioned I needed somewhere to stay—temporarily.'
'Quite the bloody philanthropist, isn't he?' Jeremy gave a short laugh. 'Well, it's done now, I suppose. But it's going to make it damned difficult for us to see each other on our own. If I come visiting, Sasha's bound to see me and report to Declan.' He sighed irritably. 'If you'd just told me what you were planning, I could have found you a place well away from W11.'
'But absolutely the right area?' Olivia asked drily.
Jeremy flushed slightly. 'Well, perhaps not, but as a stopgap that wouldn't matter so much.'
'I quite like the stop-gap I've got' Olivia paused. 'But I'm sorry to have created all these difficulties. You see—I thought you'd be glad to see me.'
'Darling, I am.' He sounded eager, remorseful. 'But it's going to be bloody frustrating for both of us. So near, and yet so far apart.'
It's not what I had in mind either,' Olivia said crisply. 'Maybe you should step your flat-hunting up a notch.'
'Yes,' he said. 'That's obviously the thing to do.' He sighed again. 'I'm going to get another drink.' He reached for her glass, and stopped. 'You've hardly touched your wine.'
'No,' she said. 'Could I have an orange juice instead, please?'
'You can have whatever you want.' He picked up her hand and kissed it 'I'm sorry, my sweet.' His voice lowered repentantly. 'You haven't had much of a welcome, have you? But I'm still a bit stunned about all this.'
And I'm a little shaken myself, Olivia thought, watching Mm make his way to the bar. Because somehow, and quite unbelievably, I seem to be in league with Declan Malone.
And that has to be seriously bad news.
CHAPTER FOUR
By the time Jeremy returned with the drinks, Olivia had managed to recover her composure. She was also determined to hide her disappointment at his initial reaction to her great surprise.
Beth had clearly been right, she thought rather sadly. She should indeed have discussed her plans with him in advance. In which case she would probably still be in Bristol, a small voice in her head added brutally.
But I'm here, Olivia thought, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. And I'm staying.
'This temping work,' Jeremy said abruptly, setting down the glasses. 'I wish I could help, darling, but we're fully staffed at the agency. You do understand?'
'No problem.' Olivia smiled with more confidence than she actually felt, concealing her instinctive pang of hurt 'I wasn't looking for hand-outs. I can make my own way.'
'But you're taking a hell of a risk.' He swallowed some of his drink. 'You had an established business in Bristol. You were doing really well. I can't believe you've thrown it all away like this.'
Olivia lifted her eyebrows. 'Is that how you see it? I thought I was coming to join the man I love. That was my priority.'
'Well, of course.' He reddened slightly. 'And don't think I'm not flattered.'
'I'm relieved to hear you say it' Olivia put a hand on his knee. She said gently, 'Jeremy, I haven't come to make waves—I promise. But I felt it was time to move on— professionally as well as personally. London's still the magnet—the magic place. Maybe I came for myself as well— to prove I could make it in the big city.'
'Then I hope you're not disappointed,' he said moodily. 'It isn't as easy as it seems.'
She gave him a quick, concerned glance. 'But you're all right, aren't you? Things are going well?'
'Absolutely. Couldn't be better.' He looked at his watch. 'Apropos of which, I have to be moving. I have a business dinner with some potential clients.'
'You do?' This time she couldn't conceal the chagrin in her voice. 'But I thought we'd be able to spend the evening together.'
'Not this time, my love.' He stroked her cheek swiftly, coaxingly. 'You must realise I have appointments—commitments.'
And what about your commitment to me? she wanted to cry out, but did not dare.
'Now, if I'd had some warning,' he went on, 'I might have been able to rearrange my diary, perhaps.' He smiled into her eyes. 'But we have plenty of time ahead of us— all the time in the world, in fact.'
'So when will I see you?' Flatly, Olivia watched him retrieve his briefcase.
'I'll call you.' He pulled her towards him, kissed her swiftly and hotly. 'God,' he breathed, 'if there was something I could do to unload tonight's shindig—but there it is…'
She watched him thread his way through the crowd, and out on to the sunlit pavement.
And thought, That's that.
She could remember as a child looking forward to things— a party, a particular birthday—with almost painful intensity, and finding that the occasion rarely lived up to her expectations.
She had the same feeling of deflation now as she made her way back to Notting Hill.
It was also her first experience of London's rush hour, and as she stood, strap-hanging, pressed uncomfortably between the unyielding frames of two complete strangers, she began to question her own wisdom.
Maybe she should just return quietly to Bristol and wait for Jeremy to call the shots, she thought unhappily. That was what everyone seemed to think she should do.
Including, of course, Declan Malone, she realised, wishing she had sufficient room to grind her teeth.
He was the snake in her grass—the thorn in her flesh— the something nasty in her woodshed. And she was damned if she'd give him the satisfa
ction of knowing that she'd trailed home with her tail between her legs. She could just imagine that cold smile of his. Well, she would do her utmost to ensure that he never smiled again.
Yes, she'd suffered a setback, but that was no reason at all to cut and run. Far better to confront her new life head-on. To take it by the scruff of the neck and shake it into line. And prove to Jeremy that she wasn't going to be some kind of drag. That she could stand beside him and play an equal part in their relationship.
And for starters she would fight her way to the door of this train, using shoulders, elbows and even teeth if she had to.
When she'd eaten her evening meal and cleared away, determinedly not dwelling on any 'might have been,' Olivia set up her laptop computer and began to compose another CV to distribute to recruitment agencies. It would do no harm to concentrate on her career prospects for a while, and let her personal life take care of itself. Maybe Jeremy needed some time to recover from the shock of her arrival, she thought drily. And he'd have more respect for her, too, if she showed her independence.
And so might Declan Malone.
She stopped, her fingers poised above the keyboard, wondering what could have brought that unwelcome idea into her mind.
After all, it was a matter of complete indifference what that creature thought about her. But it was clear, from what Jeremy had said, that he had been giving her at least some consideration.
She sat back, frowning heavily. He'd let her off the hook with Jeremy. He'd had the chance to do her some real damage, to put in the knife and twist it, and yet he'd refrained. But why?
That was the question for which she could find no answer.
But it certainly wasn't out of the kindness of his heart, she thought sombrely. She'd seen him in action on television, after all, reducing some luckless politician to a shadow of his former self with total ruthlessness.
Admittedly she'd never been a regular viewer of the programme, because she'd no real taste for blood sports, which was probably why she hadn't recognised him at once.
On the other hand, she couldn't have expected to come face to face with a media celebrity on her first day in London, when all she'd been able to think of was Jeremy anyway.
