at a high level because his comments were insightful and informed, but he seemed intent on grilling Megan on her experiences and finding out what she thought.
‘You’ve been to so many places. What exactly do you do?’ Megan tried again to turn the conversation back to Tim’s experiences.
‘Oh... I advise. People listen sometimes.’ Tim shrugged vaguely and Megan stiffened suddenly as a quiet laugh came from behind her.
‘Tim’s a parliamentary special advisor. He has his finger on the pulse at Westminster.’ Jaye stepped into Megan’s line of view, reaching forward to shake Tim’s hand warmly.
‘If only. I’m not sure that anyone has enough fingers for that...’ Tim chuckled, clearly pleased with Jaye’s assertion.
‘A voice of sanity, then?’ Jaye shot a sidelong grin at Megan, and she felt a rush of embarrassment. It happened every time. That delicious and yet horribly out-of-control feeling as she stumbled and fell into the warmth of his gaze.
‘That would be nice. Sometimes I wonder,’ Tim responded dryly, and Jaye laughed. Clearly the two men knew each other well. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if she slipped away.
She took a tentative step backwards and Jaye rounded on her. ‘Tim’s far too self-effacing. He’s helped us out with the planning on a lot of our projects.’
‘Caroline doesn’t see things that way,’ Tim joked. ‘She frisked me on the way in to make sure I wasn’t carrying any sharp objects.’
Jaye chuckled. ‘My mother has a much longer memory than I have.’
‘Ask him about the sticking plaster.’ Tim leaned confidingly towards Megan. ‘I’ll lay odds he hasn’t forgotten about that one.’
‘Sticking plaster?’ Megan forgot all about escape and turned to Jaye.
‘That was a very long time ago. When we were kids we decided to try our hands at covert surveillance, like we’d seen on TV. We rigged up a couple of voice recorders and taped them under our shirts...’
‘With the biggest roll of sticking plaster I’d ever seen. Jaye had obviously been taking lessons from his father about how to tape broken ribs, and was extremely thorough...’
‘I think I still have the scars from where my mother ripped it all off to see what was underneath.’ Jaye’s hand wandered to his chest, and Megan swallowed down the impulse to remind him that she was a nurse and could take a look at them if he wanted.
‘The worst thing was that we never actually managed to record anything. We’d put our jumpers and coats on, to hide all the lumps and bumps, and all you could hear was a bit of rustling, and then Caroline, asking us what on earth we were up to.’
Jaye quirked the sides of his mouth down. ‘Yes. That was a big disappointment.’
The image of two boys, play-acting and exploring in the winding corridors and vast rooms, floated into Megan’s mind. The Jaye who made use of the formal entrance and main staircase seemed to have lost something along the way. Or maybe it had been stolen from him. It seemed that Sonia had a lot to answer for.
‘More wine?’ Tim turned and picked up a bottle from the table.
‘No...thanks.’ Megan shielded the top of her glass with her hand. ‘I should go and see where Alice has got to...’ She looked around desperately, hoping that the friend she’d made during the conference wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Jaye was suddenly still and silent, as if this sudden glimpse at something like intimacy was too much for him too. Megan smiled at Tim and made her escape.
MEGAN LOOKED STUNNING. So much so that Jaye had forgotten to issue the expected compliment about her appearance. She wore a plain dark blue dress, the sheen of which didn’t come close to matching the sheen of her hair, which was caught up loosely at the back of her head. High heels made her legs look even longer than they actually were. The only jewellery she wore, a heavy twisted silver bangle, was obviously one of a kind. She made everyone else here look as if they’d tried far too hard, and in doing so had lost the sartorial plot.
The string quartet had thrown off the precision of Bach and begun to play a selection of popular songs, all with their very own distinctive flavour. In response, Jaye’s father had spun his mother into an empty space at one end of the ballroom, creating an impromptu dancing area.
The idea that Jaye might do the same with Megan was...impossible. He wanted too much from her. Her scent. The feel of her hand on his shoulder. That slightly dizzy feeling that her smile engendered.
‘Very nice party.’ Tim broke his reverie.
‘Thanks. There are a few people I’d like you to meet...’ Jaye resolved the need to mingle with his suspicion that Tim would be standing alone in a corner of the room if he left him here. Tim didn’t do small talk, and if he’d found him with anyone other than Megan, it would have been a surprise to find his friend so relaxed and at ease.
‘Uh... Later? I’m getting a headache, I don’t suppose you have any paracetamol, do you?’
‘In the box in the kitchen. You know where the key is. Are you all right?’
Tim shot him a pained look. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Stop being such a doctor and go and do your duty as a host...’
* * *
Out of the range of Jaye’s smile Megan had begun to relax again. She’d found Alice and they’d joined the group of new friends, laughing and talking by the fireplace. It was almost an hour before Megan saw Jaye heading towards them, a bottle of red in one hand and a bottle of white in the other, obviously intent on refilling their glasses.
She slipped away. A little cool air on her face, maybe some water, would dispel the heat that she felt rising to her cheeks.
A few wrong turns and she found her way downstairs to the kitchen. The light was on, and Megan looked around, wondering if she’d disturbed someone else who was intent on escape.
No one. Megan fetched a glass from the cupboard and held it under the tap. Then the sound of a rasped breath reached her ears.
She jumped, looking around. Still no one. Maybe this place was haunted, only that wouldn’t account for anything because she didn’t believe in ghosts. She walked to the far end of the room, to a brick archway, finding that it led into a small alcove with a couple of easy chairs and a table.
Tim was sitting in one of the chairs, a half-empty glass of water and an open packet of paracetamol on the table in front of him. His eyes were closed and his breathing seemed laboured.
It occurred to Megan that maybe this was one last challenge, designed to test the group of doctors and nurses. But Jaye and Tim would hardly stage such a thing here, and anyway the conference was over now. When she walked over to Tim, touching the back of his hand, his eyes flickered open.
‘Megan...? What’s the matter?’
‘Are you all right?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, leaning forward to
