He switched on and showed her. As she’d expected it was state of the art, linked to a high-speed Internet connection.
‘It’s the next generation,’ he said. ‘They aren’t even in the shops yet, but Dad brought it home for me. He makes sure my machine is always ahead of the other kids’ machines.’
‘I’ll bet your school loves him for that,’ Evie observed wryly.
‘At my last school they told him he was throwing everything out of kilter by making their computers look outdated. He replaced every machine in the entire school with the newest thing on the market. Then he turned to the headmistress and said, ‘Not out of kilter now.’ And he winked.’
‘He what? Mark, I don’t believe it. I shouldn’t think your father knows how to wink.’
‘He can sometimes. He says there are things any man can do if he has to.’
So, Evie reflected, winking was Justin Dane’s idea of putting on the charm, something a man could do when he had to, but which was otherwise a waste of time. But she felt she was getting to know him now, and ventured to say, ‘I’ll bet he bought you a new computer too, and it was one step ahead of the school’s.’
Mark grinned and nodded.
‘What do you want to do when you leave school, Mark?’
‘I’d like to do something with languages. Dad doesn’t like it, but it’s what I want.’
‘Why isn’t your father keen?’
‘He says there’s no money in it.’
‘Well, that’s true,’ she agreed with a rueful grin.
‘But I don’t care about that,’ he said eagerly. ‘Languages take you into other people’s minds, and different worlds, so you’re not trapped any more, and—’
This was the boy she knew in class, words tumbling over each other in his joy at the glorious flame he’d discovered. Evie smiled encouragement.
‘I like Italian best,’ he said. ‘One day I want to go to Italy—hang on.’
A knock at the door had signalled Lily’s arrival with tea. While Mark was letting her in Evie looked at the shelf behind her chair and saw, with pleasure, how many books it contained. She took down the nearest volume and jumped as a photograph fell out from between the pages.
Picking it up, she saw that it was of a young woman with a little boy, plainly a much younger Mark. They were laughing directly into each other’s eyes.
His mother, she thought.
Something caught in her throat at the feeling that blazed from that picture. If ever two people had loved each other it was these two. But she was dead, and now his life was lived with a harsh father in a house whose luxury couldn’t hide its bleakness.
Suddenly she became aware of the silence and looked up to find Mark watching her, his face pale.
‘Oh, that’s what became of it,’ he said. ‘I was afraid I’d lost it.’
He held out his hand and she gave him the photograph.
‘Is that—?’
‘Shall I pour you some tea?’ he asked, almost too politely.
His face was implacable, setting her at a distance. At that moment his likeness to his father was alarming.
‘Thank you, I’d like some,’ she said, recognising that she must back off.
He put the picture away and poured her tea, taking up their previous conversation about Italy, a country that he’d evidently studied closely.
‘You’ve got the makings of a scholar,’ she said at last.
‘Don’t let Dad hear you say that,’ he warned. ‘He’d hit the roof.’
‘Yes, I suppose he would. I guess you need to be a bit older before you can stand up to him.’
‘People can’t often stand up to Dad. He just flattens them. Except you.’ He gave a sigh of delight. ‘You flattened him.’
‘Mark,’ she said, laughing, ‘life is about a lot more than who flattens whom.’ She couldn’t resist adding, ‘Whatever your father thinks.’
‘Yeah, right,’ he said, unconvinced. ‘But it helps. And you’re the only one who’s ever flattened Dad.’
‘Stop saying that,’ she begged. ‘And how much did you overhear, anyway?’
‘Enough to know that you fla—’
‘All right, all right,’ she said hastily.
‘Wish I could do it.’
Diplomatically she decided not to answer this.
‘I have to be going,’ she said.
‘I wish you wouldn’t. It’s nice with you here.’
‘I’ll see you at school tomorrow. That is—’ she added casually, ‘if you’re there.’
‘I will be.’
‘No more truanting?’
‘Promise.’
They shook hands.
‘Good,’ said Justin from the door. ‘The best deals are made over a handshake.’
There was nothing but calm approval in his voice, and she had no way of knowing if he’d heard his son’s words.
‘We’ve made a very good deal,’ Evie assured him. ‘Mark has promised me that he’ll attend school every day from now on, and since I know he’s a man of his word I consider the matter closed.’
Her eyes told Justin that if he was wise he’d better consider the matter closed too. She thought she detected a flicker of surprise in his expression, but all he said was, ‘Mark, perhaps you’ll show our guest out? Goodbye, Miss Wharton.’
He gave her a brief nod and walked away, depriving her of the chance to talk to him again. Which, she thought, had probably been the idea.
Chapter Two
EVIE didn’t teach Mark the next day, but she saw him at a distance and knew he was in school. On the following morning he was there in her class, quiet but attentive. As he left she drew him briefly aside.
‘All right?’ she asked briefly.
‘Fine.’
‘He didn’t give you a hard time after I left?’
‘He never said a word about my playing truant, but he asked a lot of questions about you.’
