up and down on his head.
He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘This is getting us nowhere. What are you doing in my house?’
House, she noticed. Not home. Well, he was right about that.
‘I gave Mark a lift.’
‘Riding that contraption outside?’
‘No,’ she shot back. ‘I rode it while he ran behind—’ She checked herself. This was no time for sarcasm. ‘Of course. He rode pillion.’
‘Did he have a helmet?’
‘Yes, I gave him mine.’
‘So you rode without one?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which is against the law.’
‘I’m aware of that, but what else could I do? Leave him there? The point is, his head was safe.’
‘But yours wasn’t.’
‘I’m overwhelmed by your concern,’ she snapped.
‘My concern,’ he snapped back, ‘is for my son if you’d been stopped by the police while in breach of the law.’
Evie ground her teeth but wouldn’t risk answering. He had a point. An unfair point, but still a point.
‘And why were you giving him a lift anyway? Do you normally bring your pupils home from school?’
‘I didn’t bring him home from school. He played truant today, not for the first time.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard about his behaviour before this.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I went to the school and talked with the Deputy Head.’
‘No, I mean what did you do when you got home? Did you talk to Mark?’
‘Of course I did. I told him to behave himself or there’d be trouble. I gather he didn’t listen. All right, leave it to me. I’ll deal with him.’
She stared, aghast.
‘And just what do you mean by that?’ she demanded.
‘I mean I’ll make sure he knows the consequences of disobeying me again. Isn’t that what you came here for?’
‘No!’
Evie spoke so loudly and emphatically that he was actually startled.
‘That is not what I came here for,’ she said firmly. ‘That boy is very unhappy, and I’m trying to find out why. I hadn’t been here five minutes before I could see the reason. Heavens, what a place!’
‘What’s the matter with it?’ he demanded.
‘It’s like a museum. Full of things, but actually empty.’
He looked around at the expensive furnishing, then back at her. He was totally baffled.
‘You call this empty?’
‘It’s empty of everything that matters—warmth, parents to greet him when he comes home.’
‘His mother is dead,’ Justin Dane said in a hard voice.
‘She’s worse than dead, Mr Dane. She’s missing. Where are the pictures of her?’
‘After what she did, I saw no need to keep them, much less put them on display.’
‘But what about Mark? What would he have liked?’
She heard his sharp intake of breath before he said, ‘You’re trespassing on matters that do not concern you.’
‘You’re wrong,’ she said firmly. ‘I am Mark’s teacher and I’m concerned about his welfare. Anything about him concerns me, especially his suffering.’
‘What do you know about his suffering?’
‘Only what he’s trying to tell me without words. I rely on you to tell me the rest. What exactly did she do that entitles you to airbrush her out of existence?’
But he wouldn’t explain, she could see. His face had closed against her.
It was her own fault, she realised. What had she been thinking of to have lost her temper?
She took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. He seemed to be doing much the same for there was a silence. Turning, she saw that he was at the window with his back to her.
He was a tall man, well over six foot, and leanly built with broad shoulders which were emphasised by the way he was standing. When he left the window and began to stride about the room she was struck by how graceless he was. There was strength there, muscle, power, but nothing gentle or yielding.
Heaven help the person who really gets on his wrong side, Evie thought. He’d be pitiless. What kind of life does that poor child have?
When he spoke it was with an exasperated sigh, suggesting that he was doing his best with this awkward woman, but it was very difficult.
‘This is getting us nowhere,’ he said. ‘I accept that you came here with the best of intentions, and I’m glad to know about his misbehaviour. But your job is done now, and I suggest you leave it there.’
She lost her temper again. She couldn’t help it. This man was a machine for making her angry.
‘My job is not done as long as you’re talking about Mark’s ‘‘misbehaviour’’. He is not misbehaving. His mother’s dead, his father’s trying to pretend she never existed. He is miserable, unhappy, wretched, lonely, and that should be your priority. Am I getting through?’
‘Now look—’
A sound from the doorway made them both look, and see Mark. She wondered how long he’d been standing there, and how much he’d heard.
‘Hallo, Dad.’
‘Hallo, Mark. Has anyone offered Miss Wharton any tea?’
‘Yes, Lily’s made some.’
‘Then I suggest you take it upstairs and show Miss Wharton your room. She’d like to see some of your interests.’
She guessed that he would really have liked to throw her out, but he would not do so in front of his son.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I appreciate your being so helpful.’
That annoyed him, she was glad to notice.
Mark’s room turned out to contain all the gadgets any boy could want, including a music centre and computer. Evie guessed she was supposed to admire, and conclude that Mark had everything. Instead, she
