A Wild Surrender. Anne Mather
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As she waited for the girl to reply, it crossed her mind that it could be her mother. If Matt had mentioned her arrival to her, she might have decided to get in touch.
‘Ms Claiborne?’
The girl was speaking again, and Rachel answered in the positive. ‘I’m here.’
‘I have here a note that says your father called at nine o’clock this morning,’ the receptionist intoned leisurely. ‘He asked if you’d ring him as soon as you came in.’
Of course. It had to be her father, thought Rachel grumpily. He’d probably expected her to phone him last night, although bearing in mind the time change that had surely not been on the cards.
‘Okay. Thank you,’ she said now, and put down the receiver. She needed a few moments to compose what she was going to say before she made the call.
Eventually, though, she dialled for an outside line and punched in the numbers of her parents’ home. For years they’d all lived in a comfortable house in Chingford, but when Rachel had moved into an apartment of her own her parents had sold the house and bought an apartment themselves.
‘Hello?’
Her father’s voice was surprisingly welcome. Despite the argument they’d had about her coming here, he was still her best friend in the entire world. She loved her mother. There was no doubt about that. But the aloofness she’d always detected in her mother’s attitude towards her had made any real closeness between them difficult.
‘Hey, Dad.’ Rachel tried to sound upbeat. ‘Sorry I was out when you called.’
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