‘I know. Everything happening suddenly like that—it took me by surprise. I guess I didn’t cope very well.’
‘Come here.’ He put both arms around her, drawing her close so that she rested her head on his shoulder.
At last there was peace, she thought, feeling the strength and comfort he had to offer.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I never meant to get you into trouble.’
‘Don’t worry. You rescued me in time.’
‘You rescued me, you mean. Do we have to go back just yet? I can’t face the way they’ll all look at me. I’ll bet they’re laughing fit to bust.’
‘Let them laugh. What do we care? We’ll stay out awhile and give them time go to bed first.’
They had reached the river now, and sat quietly watching the water glide past.
‘I blame myself,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have let Tommy get near you. Especially when—well, when you have other interests in your life now.’
He was referring to the hint she’d dropped earlier about having an important reason to get home. She’d refused to say more but he had no doubt of her meaning. Another man had come into her life. She wasn’t ready to confide in him, but perhaps he could hope to urge her a little.
When she didn’t reply he sighed and continued, ‘If Tommy gives you any more trouble just tell me and I’ll deal with him. Promise.’
‘I don’t think he’ll trouble me again. You really scared him.’
Yes, he thought. He’d scared Tommy because he’d meant to. He’d been driven by rage at the sight of Freya’s distress. Nor had the sight of her being handled by another man improved his temper.
For a while they gazed at the river, until Jackson said, ‘Let’s have a stroll.’
Leaving the carriage, they walked along the bank until they came to a little café with tables in the open.
‘Let’s have a coffee,’ he said. ‘To tell the truth, you’re not the only one who needs time before we go back. Tonight something really weird happened.’
She waited until they were seated comfortably before saying, ‘What happened?’
‘When I was chasing after you through those confusing streets it was as though time had slipped back.’ He stopped, embarrassed. ‘No, you don’t want to hear about that.’
‘Yes, I do. Where did time slip back to?’
‘Your wedding day. When Dan jumped out of the car and ran. I went after him but he vanished into side turnings until I couldn’t see him any more. And then tonight—’
‘I did the same,’ she said with a little smile to show there were no hard feelings.
‘It was eerie—like being part of a ghost story.’
She patted his hand. ‘It’s not like you to be afraid of ghosts.’
‘I wasn’t before. I think I am now. You can be like a ghost yourself.’
‘You don’t mean you’re afraid of me?’
‘Not exactly. But sometimes I think I could be. It depends on you.’
The arrival of a waiter made them fall silent. While he poured the drinks Freya mused over his words, wondering if she had the courage to pursue them further. Sadly, she realised that she didn’t. Not yet, anyway.
When the waiter had departed she said lightly, ‘Not all ghosts are evil. Sometimes they’re friendly—like the one who’s just appeared in my life.’
There it was again he thought, the glancing reference to another man. And suddenly he couldn’t bear to be shut out of her confidence a moment longer.
‘Is it anyone I know?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes, it’s someone you know, and when I tell you the name you won’t believe me.’
Out of sight, he drove his nails into his palm.
‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Tell me who it is.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT,’ Freya said in a soothing voice. ‘No need to get agitated.’
She didn’t know it but there was every need. Agitation was growing in him with alarming speed. He hated her having another man, but most of all he hated his own reaction.
‘Just tell me who it is,’ he said.
‘And stop giving me orders.’
‘I’m not giving you orders. I’m pleading with you. Don’t you recognise the difference?’
‘Is there a difference? When a man says please isn’t it mostly an act, to hide the fact that he’s not giving you a choice?’
‘Is that experience talking?’
‘Yes, it is. Dan used to do it—and Amos too. I hear him talking to my mother. When he says, “Please, my dear...” there’s always a slightly ironic note that means he’s really saying, stop wasting time arguing.’
‘And of course you’ve decided that I’m tarred with the same brush as my father?’
‘Well—’
‘Come on, we’ve discussed this before, so let’s have the truth. In your eyes I’m as big a bully as he is—just a bit more cunning in how I go about it.’
‘Look, I’m sorry, I—’
‘Too late to be sorry. My Amos side has taken over. Tell me what I want to know or I’ll do something violent.’
‘Oh, yeah? Such as what?’
‘Such as this,’ he said, and stamped his foot hard on the ground. ‘Ouch!’
‘Is that the best you can manage?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ he said, pulling off his shoe and rubbing his foot.
‘Have you hurt yourself?’
‘Yes—my ankle and further up. Ouch! Ouch!’
‘I’m not surprised. You slammed it down so hard that the shock must have gone right up your leg. Here, let the nurse do her job.’
She took over, removing his sock and rubbing the foot while he breathed hard.
‘That’s better,’ he said with relief. ‘But could you go a bit harder on my ankle? Yes, like that. Ahh!’
When she’d done his ankle she
