of Lisa’s black-clad legs. Even the Financial Controller had been known to give them a passing beam. Now Sam glared at her short skirt.
‘One day soon you’re going to find yourself hosting one of our corporate entertainments. How are the clients going to feel being taken to the races by a woman with earrings like a modern art gallery?’
Lisa put her hand to one of the offending ornaments.
‘You’re not serious!’
‘The top brass already know you live in a place that’s one up from a student squat. The chauffeurs talk, you know.’
Lisa was outraged. Her eyes were usually a green flecked with the gold of a woodland summer. Now they were green ice. ‘You’re a snob.’
‘No. I just know the score.’ He was torn between affection and exasperation. ‘Face it, Lisa. We’ve got a parent company with some very definite ideas about how it wants its management to live. You don’t qualify on any count.’
Lisa folded her arms across her chest and glared. ‘And to qualify I’ve got to pretend to be something I’m not?’
‘Up to you,’ said Sam, losing patience. ‘Now get out of here and make us some money.’
It was the end of a bad week. With Far Eastern markets in freefall, Lisa had had to be at her desk earlier than ever, staying well after New York had closed for transatlantic strategy discussions, and she hadn’t got home until after ten.
As a result, she’d missed her turn to clean the shared kitchen. But what had really offended her housemates was her failure to make it to Anna’s twenty-first on Wednesday evening.
‘Too grand to remember something like a birthday party now,’ Alec Palmer had sneered.
Of all the people she shared the house with, Alec was the one who knew most about her job. He had even worked at Napier Kraus briefly himself. When he’d first moved into the house they had got on well. But since her promotion he had sniped constantly.
In a way, she could understand it. He was older and, unlike Lisa, who had left school at sixteen, he had a university degree. It was natural that he would feel competitive. But there was an edge of spite in his remarks these days that Lisa found hard to bear.
Maybe I should do what Sam wants and move out, thought Lisa. She hated the idea of giving in to what she thought of as snobbery. But if Alec was going to pick at her all the time, she would be better off living somewhere else.
So her heart sank when she went into the kitchen that night and found Alec was the only one home. He was standing at the stove, stirring onions into a Bolognese sauce.
‘The others have gone clubbing,’ he said, his back to her. ‘They said they were going to try to get into the Equinox Club. You could always catch them up.’
Lisa tossed her briefcase onto a kitchen chair.
‘Frankly, I can do with a quiet night. It’s been a pig of a week.’
‘The burdens of responsibility,’ said Alec, with an edge to his voice.
Lisa tensed. But he waved his spatula at the pan of boiling pasta.
‘Want some spaghetti?’
Lisa seized the olive branch gratefully. ‘That would be great. Just let me change.’
She went and had a quick shower, then pulled on jeans and a sloppy shirt and went back to the kitchen.
Alec had set the table and opened a bottle of red wine. Lisa sank onto a pine chair. She took the glass he offered her and raised it to him in a silent toast.
‘This is a real treat. Thanks, Alec.’
‘Pleasure.’
He dished up and put the plate in front of her. She grated some parmesan onto the meat sauce and began to eat hungrily.
At first it was easy. They talked about the food, plans for the weekend, families. Even work, carefully. But then Lisa asked idly, ‘Is Equinox part of the on-going birthday celebrations?’ and Alec blew up.
‘You’ve got no right to sneer.’
‘I wasn’t—’
‘A six-figure salary doesn’t make you better than the rest of us.’
Lisa sighed. As far as her housemates were concerned she was an East End kid made good: irrepressible, hardworking, quick on the draw. None of them knew the hours of work it had cost her, or the loneliness. And not one of them even suspected the private burden of the responsibilities she carried.
‘I’m too tired for this, Alec.’
He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Too tired,’ he mimicked savagely. ‘A big job is all-consuming, isn’t it? I suppose I should be grateful that you had the time to eat my food tonight.’
Lisa winced. But she said indignantly, ‘Garbage.’
He stood up and came round the table, looking down at her broodingly. ‘When did you last have time for me?’
‘Alec—’
He seemed not to hear. He searched her face.
‘You don’t even see it, do you?’
His own face twisted. For a horrible moment, Lisa thought he was going to cry. She winced away from his too revealing expression, but it was too late. He had seen her distaste. He grabbed her up from her chair.
‘Look at me, Lisa.’ Suddenly he was a stranger, panting and desperate. ‘Please. Please. I love you. No one loves you like I do.’
Lisa was appalled. It came out of the blue. The house had an agreement: no relationships between tenants. She had thought of Alec as a friend, and, lately, as a self-selected competitor she would have to treat carefully. It had never occurred to her that he was in love with her. She had no idea what to do.
‘Don’t say that,’ she begged.
But he wasn’t listening. He held onto her like a lifeline.
It pressed all the wrong buttons for Lisa. She had been vulnerable and in love herself. The sight of Alec’s vulnerability twisted her heart. I can’t bear it, she thought.
‘Let me go.’
She struggled to free herself. He didn’t seem to notice.
‘You think you’re so strong,’ he muttered into her hair. ‘But you need love. Everyone needs love. I can give you love.’
And, to Lisa’s inexpressible horror, he slid down on one knee and pressed his face into her stomach.
‘Alec, please don’t do this.’ It was a cry of real pain.
She pushed at his shoulders. But his grip was like a vice. Lisa looked round, helpless, hurting, and acutely embarrassed. He seemed unaware of his own strength. Or the fact that she was trying
