style="font-size:15px;"> The Ackerman monster certainly had a beautiful home, she decided, the tranquillity of the scene soothing her. She could almost imagine herself putting down roots if she owned something like this. Almost. She sighed. No, she couldn’t see herself putting roots down anywhere, any time. She couldn’t really see the point. There was always something new over the horizon, something to draw her wandering feet onwards…
‘And when’s this big decision to be taken?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure. But soon. And when it’s made, either way, we can drop this act.’
‘But it can’t have had anything to do with their change of mind, surely?’ Fen looked at him worriedly. ‘One scandalous story in print…’ Her voice trailed away. From what she’d gathered, the viewing figures for Alex’s show had been falling steadily for some time, and dropping like a stone just recently. Could their altered decision be based on what was, after all, simply a piece of sleazy journalism and salacious speculation? It didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
But Alex didn’t care why he had been offered a reprieve, only that it seemed that he had. He was smiling expansively, his face too flushed. Fen suspected he’d been celebrating ever since he’d had that talk with the director of programmes. The champagne had been flowing like water, after all!
‘Shall I drive us home?’ She didn’t want to offend his male pride by suggesting he might be over the legal limit—well over!—but it was time they made a move. She didn’t want to face Saul again, not after what he had said and done. Especially not after what he had said and done!
‘We’ll see. Later. Saul’s asked us to stay to dinner—I’ve been trying to tell you.’
‘What?’ Fen shook her head decisively. ‘No. Oh, no!’ She had had more than enough of his company. Several others would have been invited, too, she was sure of that. A select few. Definitely including the lovely Vesta Faine! But she had no wish whatsoever to be part of the élite around Saul Ackerman’s dinnertable tonight.
‘Fen!’ Alex looked pole-axed. ‘Don’t be like that! I know it’s been difficult—being taken for my mistress, and everything. But it won’t be for much longer, I promise, and then we can come clean. And it’s important to me; you must see that. We got away with refusing his invitation once; do it twice and I can kiss all hopes of a change of mind goodbye!’ He put his hand over hers as it clenched and curled around the sun-warmed stone. ‘I can’t afford to ruffle his feathers, at least not until that decision’s been made. And he might want to discuss it over dinner. Please, sweetheart, try to endure it. For me?’
It was emotional blackmail and she knew she had no choice. But, just to get her own back, she snapped out, ‘Couldn’t we just tell him we can’t wait to get back to your place and dive into bed?’ Saul would understand something like that—the arrogant, insulting, over-sexed monster…!
She saw Alex’s face go purple, and knew why when, from just behind her, that hated voice said, in a tone like steel cutting through stone, ‘Shall we go in? We’ve time for a drink before dinner. And perhaps your niece…’ his voice hovered damningly over that word ‘…would like to freshen up before we eat?’
He had heard what she had said; no doubt about it. Trying to hide her flaming face beneath the brim of her hat, she had no other option but to keep pace with the two men as they walked towards the house. But once inside she could have wept with relief as he introduced his housekeeper, Mrs Pringle.
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