Grace sounded anxious now. ‘I know what you must be thinking, but try to understand my position. Ryan is my brother-in-law, after all. When—when Cole asked where you were, I had to tell him.’
Joanna absorbed this in silence. Although she still resented the fact that Grace had betrayed her whereabouts, without even clearing it with her first, she wasn’t unmindful of Grace’s family responsibilities. Oh, it was easy enough to dismiss them by reminding herself that Grace’s marriage to Ryan Macallister’s brother had been no more successful than her own, but the truth was Grace was more dependent on the Macallisters than she was. Grace and Luke Macallister had two sons, Evan and Luke Junior. If she wanted to continue seeing her sons on a regular basis, she couldn’t afford to offend the man who could deny her that privilege.
‘Jo? Jo, are you still there?’
Grace’s worried tones brought Joanna’s attention back to the phone. It was her own fault really, she thought. As soon as her marriage to Cole broke up, she should have found herself another agent. But she had known Grace for almost ten years. Grace had recognised her talent long before the water-colours she produced became popular. Heavens, it was through Grace that she had met Cole—though the virtues of that particular introduction had long since been debased. Nevertheless, she was fond of Grace, she owed her a lot, and it wasn’t fair to expect her to jeopardise her relationship with her own flesh and blood.
‘Yes, I’m still here, Grace,’ Joanna answered now, expelling her breath on a long sigh. ‘OK, I forgive you. I suppose you didn’t have a lot of choice. But, dammit, you should have warned me! I couldn’t believe it when I saw Cole across the terrace.’
Grace made a sound of surprise. ‘You’ve seen Cole?’
Joanna frowned. ‘Of course.’ She paused. ‘What did you expect?’
‘Oh—I don’t know.’ Grace sounded doubtful. ‘When he phoned, I got the impression he didn’t want to leave Tidewater at this particular time.’
Joanna shrugged. ‘Well, he must have changed his mind.’
Grace hesitated. ‘And are you going back with him?’
‘No.’
‘No?’ Grace sounded dismayed. ‘But Jo, Ryan’s dying!’
‘So?’ Joanna refused to allow the other woman to influence her.
‘He has cancer,’ Grace persisted. ‘According to Cole, the doctors give him a few weeks at most. Jo, he is Cole’s father. Can’t you find it in your heart to feel some compassion? I know you and he have had your differences, but——’
‘Differences!’ Joanna almost spat the word. ‘Grace, that man and I did not have differences! We were totally opposed to one another in every way. Ryan Macallister doesn’t deserve anyone’s compassion. He’s a twisted, evil man!’
Grace sighed. ‘You really hate him, don’t you?’
‘Wouldn’t you? Don’t you?’
‘Not hate, no.’ Grace was tentative. ‘Oh, I know what you’re going to say. If Ryan hadn’t made such a big thing of my wanting some independence, Luke would never have found the guts, strength—call it what you will—to make that ultimatum. But Jo, it was Luke who made me choose between staying at Tidewater, and vegetating, or making a life for myself. Ryan might have fashioned the bullets, my dear, but Luke fired them.’
‘Yes, but——’
‘Hear me out, Jo. I want you to know I haven’t regretted what I did. Not really. Oh, I miss the boys, of course, but it’s not as if they were babies when I left. And I’ve had a good life here. Running the gallery, becoming Ray’s partner. He and I have more in common than Luke and I ever did. Luke was different. He was exciting. And I don’t deny that Ray and I—well, we don’t have the same kind of relationship. Ours is more—intellectual, if you know what I mean. But I’m not bitter. I have everything I need. I can afford to feel pity.’
‘Well, I can’t.’
Joanna pressed her lips together, and Grace breathed deeply. ‘No,’ she conceded, after a moment. ‘No, I see that. I suppose I’d forgotten how much you love Cole——’
‘Loved!’ Joanna amended harshly. ‘You’d forgotten how much I loved Cole. Not any more. That love died when they killed Nathan. Or did you forget about him, too?’
There was silence for a while, and when Grace spoke again there was regret in her voice. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘No, of course I haven’t forgotten Nathan. I’m sorry, Jo. Naturally you must do what you think best.’
Conversely, Joanna felt guilty now. Oh, not about Ryan Macallister, she consoled herself, but perhaps she had been hard on Grace.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, forcing her mind on to other things. ‘Um—how are the arrangements for the exhibition going? Do you think it’s going to attract enough interest?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Grace responded eagerly, evidently as anxious as Joanna to turn their conversation on to a business footing. ‘I’ve already had acceptances to the opening from all the most important critics, and even Howard Jennings has agreed to make an appearance.’
‘Oh, good.’
Joanna tried to summon some enthusiasm for the news that the editor and presenter of a monthly television arts programme was apparently interested enough to attend, but somehow the importance of the exhibition had been blurred. In spite of all she had said, the image of Cole’s father, sick and dying of that most pernicious of diseases, would not go away, and she was inordinately grateful when Grace said she would have to go, and rang off.
But, if she had hoped that by severing the connection with Grace she could sever all thoughts of the Macallisters, she was mistaken. Memories of Cole, and his father, and Tidewater just kept on coming back, and it was with an angry sense of resentment that she snatched up the bag containing her book, sun-screen, and dark glasses, and left the room.
THE sun was soothing. It was hard to think of anything with its rays beating against her closed eyelids, and bringing a film of perspiration to her supine body. It was hot beside the pool, hotter than on the beach, where there was at least a breeze off the water to temper the humidity. But Joanna welcomed the numbing effects of the heat, and the mindless lethargy it engendered.
Her hands uncurled against the cream towel she had spread over the slatted sun-bed, and she arched one leg in an unknowingly provocative pose. Oh, yes, she decided contentedly, this was definitely the life! She refused to think about anything, except what she was going to have for lunch.
She had chosen a chair in a secluded corner of the pool deck. It wasn’t that she was unsociable. It was just that she had no wish to appear in need of company. She knew perfectly well that a woman alone often attracted unwelcome attention from the opposite sex, and indulging in any kind of holiday flirtation was not what she had come here for. At home, she did accept an occasional invitation to dinner, or the theatre, but that was different. On the whole, her escorts knew that she was not interested in any serious commitment, and if any of them showed they would prefer a more intimate relationship they were quickly
