all right with you.’ Jason was at once on the defensive.
‘Of course. I just—–’
‘The spare room is always ready for guests,’ his grandfather assured him jovially. ‘Did you bring any clothes with you?’
Jason nodded, still watching Sarah warily. ‘I left my back-pack outside,’ he answered slowly.
The last thing she wanted to appear was the spoiler of all their fun, but even so… ‘Does your father know where you are?’ she asked with firm control, demanding an answer this time.
Jason flushed. ‘He’s away in Scotland for a couple of days with the owner of the studio. I was sick of sitting around in a hotel room, so I gave Grandad a call.’
‘But even so—–’
‘Jason, why don’t you go and get your things and take them upstairs,’ his grandfather suggested lightly. ‘It’s the room on the right at the top of the stairs.’
Jason looked about to argue, and then he nodded reluctant agreement, his mouth set rebelliously as he went outside.
‘I know you’re angry, Sarah,’ her father soothed before she could speak. ‘But when he called me yesterday the lad was upset; what else could I do but invite him to come here?’
‘You know I don’t mind the fact that he’s here,’ she admonished. ‘I’m as pleased to see him as you are. I just think you should have acted a little more responsibly and—–’
‘How could I tell Garrett when he isn’t even at the hotel?’ he reasoned.
‘You could have left a message for him,’ she pointed out gently.
‘All right,’ her father admitted irritably. ‘I’ll admit that I was so excited at the thought of seeing Jason again after all these years that I may have acted a little selfishly. But it isn’t too late to leave a message at the hotel for Garrett now; Jason said he isn’t due back for a couple more days. I didn’t see why the lad should be bored waiting for him at that hotel when he could be with us,’ he added persuasively.
Her father was worse than Jason, and despite his sixty-six years he seemed about the same age at the moment, excited at the prospect of having Jason stay with them, if only for a few days. Sarah doubted if either of them would listen if she pointed out that it was probably because all Jason would have to do if Garrett brought him with him was sit bored around hotels, that Garrett thought it best if he stayed with his aunt and uncle at these times! Not that she thought Garrett was right completely; heaven forbid she should think that man was right about anything! But he was Jason’s father, and he was going to be worried about him once he learnt of his disappearance.
She stood up decisively as Jason came back into the room, eyeing them both suspiciously. ‘Don’t look so worried, Jason,’ she said lightly. ‘All we’ve decided is to leave a message at the hotel for your father telling him where you are.’
She made no comment as he mumbled the name of one of the most prestigious hotels in London; where else would Garrett Kingham stay, the famous film director, son and brother to Washington senators!
As soon as she got through to the hotel and asked to leave a message for Mr Kingham there was a strange clicking noise on the line and then a very short ring before the receiver was picked up the other end. ‘Hello, I—–’
‘Who is this?’ demanded a gravelly voice that was definitely American-accented.
But not Garrett’s voice, thank goodness! ‘I wanted to leave a message for Mr Kingham,’ she said awkwardly, completely disconcerted, having expected to speak to the receptionist. ‘But there seems to have been some sort of confusion, because the operator—–’
‘What’s the message?’ that gravelly voice demanded again, and Sarah instantly formed an image of a six-and-a-half-foot giant with the build of Arnold Schwarzenegger—but without the intelligence that man had displayed when she had seen him on a chat show several months ago!
‘If you gave me a chance to finish speaking I would tell you,’ she said in her sternest schoolteacher voice, receiving silent attention for her effort. ‘Could you please tell Mr Kingham that Sarah rang, and that—–’
‘Sarah who?’
This conversation wasn’t going at all as smoothly as she had hoped, and she was glad she was out in the hallway and didn’t have an audience to her embarrassment. The man on the other end of the telephone line had the finesse of a bulldozer! Although he probably had a point: Garrett Kingham probably knew a hundred women named Sarah—all of them intimately.
‘Sarah—–’ She hesitated. If she said Sarah Croft then Garrett probably wouldn’t realise who she was; she doubted he had troubled himself to learn that his once-sister-in-law had been married and divorced since they had last met. ‘Sarah Harvey,’ she decided firmly. ‘Could you tell him Jason is with us, and that—–’
‘You’ve got the kid?’ The gravelly voice was instantly alert, making Sarah wonder if she could possibly have underestimated his intelligence just because she didn’t like the sound of his voice.
She bristled indignantly. ‘His name is Jason. And yes, he’s with us. I wanted to—–’
‘What do you want?’ the man growled.
Sarah gave a start at the aggression. ‘If you would just let me finish speaking instead of—–’
‘I think I should warn you that you aren’t being clever, that the kid’s old man is angry, very angry, so if you—–’
‘No more angry than I am, let me assure you,’ she snapped furiously. ‘Now would you kindly tell Mr Kingham that Jason is with us, and that if he wants him he’s going to have to come here and get him!’ She slammed the receiver down, glaring at it indignantly, as if it were its fault she had just been spoken to so rudely. She was shaking because she was so angry, had never been spoken to in that aggressively rude way before.
Jason looked up at her searchingly as she went back into the lounge with controlled violence, pacing the room, still too angry to sit down. ‘What happened?’ he finally asked wearily.
Her eyes blazed with fiery blue sparks as she turned to face him. ‘I’ve just spoken to the rudest man—–’
‘Dad?’ He looked anxious. ‘But he isn’t supposed to be back—–’
‘It certainly wasn’t your father,’ she snapped. ‘If it had been I would have known how to deal with him. This man sounded like an all-in-wrestler and heavy-weight boxer rolled into one—–’
‘Dennis,’ Jason said knowingly.
‘Dennis?’ she repeated incredulously, trying to see the owner of that voice answering to such a name—and failing. Killer, sounded more appropriate! But he must have been a baby once; how could his mother be expected to know he would grow up to resemble a gorilla?
‘What did he say to you?’ Jason’s eyes were narrowed questioningly.
She was about to launch into a word-for-word account of the conversation when she remembered what Dennis had said about
