too cold, too ruthless and overtly powerful to be human.
But the money was good. She shut her eyes for a second, thinking of the speed in which the remainder of Graham’s debts could be settled if she had a salary like the one Lucas Kane had mentioned coming in every month. She and Melody could think about moving out of the grotty little bedsit they were forced to call home, and with a car—a BMW, he had said, hadn’t he?—travelling would be a pleasure.
The lift glided to a halt and her eyes snapped open. Enough daydreaming. She stepped into the foyer and walked determinedly towards the far doors without looking to left or right. It wasn’t going to happen—furthermore, she didn’t want it to happen, she told herself firmly.
She would soon get another job and eventually, one day, she would be clear of the burden which hung like a great millstone round her neck. And she had Melody. She thought of her daughter’s sweet little face and felt a flood of love sweep through her, dispelling all the heartache. Yes, she had Melody, and compared to Lucas Kane with all his millions that made her the richest woman on earth.
CHAPTER TWO
‘SO, ALL in all an unmitigated disaster, then?’ Maggie said with forced brightness. ‘Never mind, pet; on to the next one, eh? I get the car back from the garage tomorrow, so if you want to borrow it you can. Friday’s the next interview, isn’t it?’
Kim nodded. She was standing drinking a hasty cup of coffee in Maggie’s ultra-modern kitchen before she left to pick up Melody from the Octopus club her daughter attended after school. ‘At the accountant’s on the corner of the street where I live, actually,’ she answered with matching brightness, ‘so I shan’t need the car. The accountant’s would be much handier than Kane Electrical, travel-wise.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘And it’s a small place—just three or four work there, I think—so it’s bound to be friendlier than a big firm like Kane’s.’
‘Definitely.’
‘Oh, Maggie.’ Kim put down her flamboyant mug painted with enormous red cherries abruptly and stared into her friend’s bright blue eyes. ‘All that money, and a car and everything.’
‘Don’t forget Lucas Kane goes with the deal.’ Maggie was trying to find something positive to say about the lost chance of the century.
‘I could put up with him,’ Kim answered miserably. ‘If it meant being able to move out of the bedsit and get somewhere with a garden for Melody I could put up with just about anything.’
‘I know.’ Maggie put a sympathetic hand on Kim’s arm for a moment. ‘But anyone has only got to see you two together for a minute to know that Melody has something all the money in the world can’t buy. There’s an awful lot of kids with gardens and a nursery full of toys who have rotten childhoods, lass, with parents who don’t give a damn.’
Maggie’s Northern accent was always at its strongest when she was in earnest about something, and now Kim smiled into the round homely face as she said, ‘Thanks, Maggie. You’re one in a million.’
‘Just repeat that in Pete’s ear, would you? Loudly!’
Pete was Maggie’s boyfriend of five years’ standing who was incredibly inventive in avoiding any mention of commitment and settling down, much to Maggie’s increasing exasperation. He worked as a stockbroker—a successful one, by all accounts—and occupied the flat above Maggie’s, which was how the two of them had first met.
‘I thought you were going to have a chat with him over the weekend? Lay it on the line about how you feel?’ Kim said quietly, forgetting her own troubles for a moment as she looked into Maggie’s sky-blue gaze. Pete commuted into London every day and arrived back at the flat well after eight each night, so any serious talking was always left until the weekends.
‘I was.’ Maggie shrugged her meaty shoulders disconsolately. ‘But he wasn’t feeling well—a touch of flu, I think—and I was snowed under with work anyway, so it perhaps wasn’t the right time.’
Maggie was an interior designer and her star was rising in the career sense if not in her lovelife.
‘He doesn’t know how lucky he is, that’s the trouble,’ Kim said stoutly, finishing the last of the coffee in one gulp and placing the mug on Maggie’s gleaming worktop.
‘I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,’ Maggie agreed wryly. ‘Working from home is great in all sorts of ways but he knows I’m always here, no matter what, just waiting for him to come back from the City. The way he carries on sometimes, you’d think he was a Viking returning from a far distant land—he’s such a drama queen! In his opinion, he’s the high-flyer taking chances, on the cutting edge and all that, and I’m good old dependable Maggie with nothing to do but get ready with his pipe and slippers.’
‘The short, sharp shock treatment might wake him up, if you can think of something not too life-threatening,’ Kim advised with a grin. ‘I’m sure he does love you, Maggie.’
‘Ah, but how much, lass—that’s the sixty-four dollar question, isn’t it? I’m getting on for thirty; I can’t wait around for ever!’
‘I must go; Melody will be out soon.’ Kim gave Maggie a quick hug and made for the door. ‘Ring me later if you fancy a chat.’
‘Even if it’s just to moan about Pete?’
‘Course. What else are friends for?’
Kim found herself sprinting the last hundred yards or so along the cold streets to the school, although there was no need; she was in plenty of time. She had always made sure—no matter how hectic or difficult her day or how heavy her workload—that either she or Maggie was there before time to pick up Melody.
Melody’s huge, thickly lashed brown eyes were searching for her the second her daughter walked out of the school doors, and as the small face lit up and a little red-mittened hand waved frantically Kim felt a lump in her throat at the unabashed love on the tiny face so like her own.
‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Melody fairly flew across the playground and into Kim’s waiting arms. ‘Guess what? I’m going to be Mary in the Nativity and have a white dress and tinsel in my hair. Mrs Jones picked me specially.’
‘That’s wonderful, darling.’
‘She said she can trust me not to be silly,’ Melody continued solemnly. ‘Cory Chambers was very silly today; she stuck a crayon up her nose and Mrs Jones couldn’t get it down and Cory was crying her head off. Mrs Jones had to get her mummy.’
The chatter continued during the ten-minute walk to their bedsit, situated in a terraced street which was grim by any standards. A young married couple and several students occupied the other four bedsits the narrow, three-storey house contained, with a shared bathroom for all occupants on the top floor next to Kim’s room.
The fact that the bathroom was right next door for Melody and that their elevated position cut out the possibility of noisy neighbours overhead were two small advantages in their somewhat miserable surroundings, but Kim fought a constant war against mould and damp, ancient plumping and poor lighting. It wasn’t so bad in the summer, but the two winters they had spent at the house had been abysmal.
Kim had made
