‘It must have been a sickener for her when she found out about you and Jared. I mean, doesn’t she spend all her time trying to insinuate herself with the divine Elizabeth?’
‘Don’t say that.’ Isobel couldn’t allow Michelle to ridicule Jared’s wife. ‘Life hasn’t been easy for Elizabeth, you know that.’
Michelle grimaced. ‘I know what she wants everyone to believe,’ she remarked drily. ‘But, okay. I won’t say anything bitchy about Mrs Kendall if you’ll stop getting mopey over Marion’s maliciousness. Hell, she’s probably afraid you’re going to go looking for him.’
Isobel frowned. ‘Why should that bother her?’
‘Come on.’ Michelle was impatient now. ‘What was that address you just told me? Tregarth Hall? That doesn’t sound like a semi in a nice, but unspectacular, part of town.’
Isobel stared at her. ‘You’re saying you think my father might be a—a wealthy man?’
‘It’s possible,’ said Michelle, shrugging as she opened Isobel’s fridge. ‘Ah, wine,’ she noted approvingly. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
Isobel sniffed again, but her mouth tilted a little at her friend’s good-humoured common-sense. ‘I don’t want any,’ she said, helping herself to a can of Coke. ‘It’s all yours.’
Michelle lifted the bottle out of the fridge and looked for the corkscrew. ‘So you’re really going through with this, then?’
Isobel looked down at her stomach. ‘You mean the baby?’
‘I mean the baby,’ agreed Michelle, pouring herself a glass of Chardonnay. ‘Does Marion know about that?’
‘Heaven forbid!’ Isobel spoke fervently. ‘She’d say, Like mother, like daughter.’
‘Mmm.’ Michelle headed back into the living room. ‘And you’re still determined that Jared doesn’t need to know either?’
Isobel nodded vigorously. ‘It was never meant to happen, Michelle. You know that. It’ll be better for all of us when I go away.’
‘Well, if you want my honest opinion, I think he’s bloody lucky to have known you,’ declared her friend staunchly. ‘I hate to say anything good about the bastard, but he hasn’t had the happiest of marriages with the—with Elizabeth, has he?’
‘No.’ Isobel’s throat was tight.
‘And, contrary to what you say, I think he would do something about it, if he knew.’
‘What? Get a divorce? I don’t think so. Apart from the fact that Elizabeth’s disabled, it’s common knowledge that he was driving the car when the accident happened.’
Isobel was getting emotional again, and Michelle apparently decided it was time to back off. ‘Who knows?’ she said lightly. ‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, I guess.’ She sank down onto the sofa again, and took a sip of her wine. ‘So…what are you going to do about the letters?’
Isobel perched on the chair opposite. ‘What do you think I should do?’
Michelle arched improbably thin eyebrows. ‘How should I know?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘But I guess, looking at you now, that you’ve got a plan in mind.’
‘I had,’ admitted Isobel ruefully. ‘Now, I’m not so sure.’
‘Why not?’
Isobel bit her lip. ‘I had thought of looking for somewhere to live near—near Polgarron.’
‘Ah. And?’
‘Well, if your suspicions are true, and he—does have money, I don’t want him to think I’m looking for him now because I think he—owes me something.’
‘He does.’
‘Michelle!’
‘He does, dammit. You are his daughter.’
‘If it’s true.’
‘Do you doubt it?’
‘No.’
‘There you are, then.’ Michelle was triumphant. ‘I suggest we drive down the first weekend of the holidays.’
Isobel caught her breath. ‘You’ll come with me?’
‘And see you settled? What else?’
‘Oh, Michelle, thank you.’ Isobel went and gave her friend an impulsive hug. ‘I thought I’d have to go on my own.’
‘How are you going to haul all your stuff in that match-box of yours?’ demanded Michelle, disparaging Isobel’s car with affectionate familiarity. ‘No, we’ll take the estate car. Phil can manage with my car for a few days, and we’ll leave your car in our garage until you’re settled. Then, you can either come back for it or get a local garage to deliver it for you.’
Isobel shook her head. ‘Won’t Phil object?’ Michelle’s husband was a sales rep and used the estate car to carry demonstration equipment.
‘As I say, he can make do with the Peugeot. Honestly, he won’t mind.’
‘But your holiday—’
‘We’re not going away until the third week in August,’ exclaimed Michelle impatiently. ‘Stop making obstacles where there aren’t any. With a bit of luck, you’ll be installed in your new place before we go away. Hey—’ she laughed ‘—after you move, Phil and I will have a permanent holiday home in the West Country, won’t we?’
‘The West Country.’ Isobel echoed the words with a shiver of apprehension. Despite the news about her father, and the gratitude she felt towards Michelle for her help and understanding, she couldn’t forget what she was leaving behind. ‘It sounds so far away.’
‘It is far away,’ said Michelle mildly. ‘I thought that was the idea.’
Isobel heaved a sigh. ‘It is, of course, but—’
‘You’re going to miss me. I know,’ said Michelle drily, but when Isobel turned pained eyes in her direction, she shook her head in knowing resignation. ‘You’ve got to forget him, kid. You said yourself there’s no future in it.’
‘That doesn’t stop me wishing—’ Isobel cut herself off before she could finish the damning sentence and swung around towards the spare bedroom. ‘Come on. Let’s get started with the packing. It’s only two weeks to the start of the summer holidays.’
JARED dropped his hard hat onto the seat beside him, and rested his head against the soft leather upholstery. It had been a long, hot day and the hair at the back of his neck was damp with sweat. He needed a drink and a shower, not necessarily in that order, and then the prospect of spending the rest of the evening
