CATHERINE GEORGE

City Cinderella


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      ‘No. I’m very fond of this someone.’

      ‘Who is he?’

      ‘Son of my landlord.’

      ‘One of the twins?’

      ‘You remembered,’ she said, surprised, and sat down in the armchair.

      ‘I remember everything you’ve told me so far,’ Lucas assured her. ‘I’ve felt too lousy to read, or watch television, so I lie here and think about you.’

      ‘Time I was going,’ she said hastily, and got up, but he lunged swiftly and caught her hand.

      ‘I was not coming on to you. I meant that you interest me.’

      Her eyebrows rose. ‘Is that a compliment?’

      ‘It’s the truth,’ he said simply, and released her hand.

      Appeased, Emily resumed her seat. ‘By the way, Lucas, the new number I left for you is unlisted. My family have it, of course, and my closest friend, but—’

      ‘Not Miles,’ he said, nodding.

      ‘That’s the problem. He’s got hold of it somehow. He rang me last night.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘Did you speak to him?’

      ‘No. I just listened while he left a message. He tracked the number down somehow. Now I’m afraid he’ll find out where I’m living.’ She shivered at the thought.

      Lucas frowned. ‘Emily, are you afraid of this guy?’

      ‘Certainly not. I just don’t want to see him again.’

      ‘Why did you leave him?’

      Her lips tightened. ‘The usual reason.’

      ‘Another woman?’

      ‘One that I know of personally, but probably a lot more that I don’t.’ She shrugged. ‘A boring little tale.’

      He settled more comfortably against the pillows. ‘Tell me about your family instead.’

      Preparing to lie about some fictitious appointment, Emily hesitated. Lucas Tennent was enjoying her company. And she was enjoying his. But she had no illusions. Without his dose of flu none of this would be happening.

      His heavy eyes narrowed as he watched her face. ‘You’re about to say you can’t stay. Are you due at the Donaldsons’?’

      ‘No, not today. But I should be going home.’

      ‘Don’t tell me we’re back to this “upstairs, downstairs” garbage again?’ he demanded irritably.

      ‘You should be resting.’

      ‘I can do that after you’re gone.’ He gave her a cunning look. ‘I could pay you overtime.’

      ‘Certainly not,’ she snapped, bristling.

      He grinned. ‘Thought that would do it. Right, then. Stay for a while. Talk to me.’

      Disarmed by the grin, Emily gave in, and at his prompting provided Lucas with a brief résumé of her background—father a retired clergyman, mother a leading light in the local history society and devourer of crime novels. ‘A combination with drawbacks,’ she said wryly. ‘Mother wasn’t keen on my move to Spitalfields because it was once a favourite haunt of Jack the Ripper, though she’s interested in the Roman skeletons found there. I also have a brother,’ she went on. ‘Andrew is head of the physical education department in the school he once graced himself in company with my landlord, Nat Sedley. They’ve been close friends ever since, which is why Nat offered me a room in his house when I left Miles.’

      ‘And is your landlord married to the mother of his twins?’ Lucas asked casually.

      ‘Yes. But there’s a rift. Thea lives with the children in their house near Chastlecombe and Nat lives alone up here. But he desperately wants his life with Thea back. He gets the twins on alternate weekends but it cuts him to pieces to part with them every time. He’s a colleague of Liz Donaldson, your neighbour, by the way.’ She smiled a little. ‘He interrogated her pretty thoroughly about you before I was permitted to take the job.’

      Lucas gave her a cynical look. ‘Are you sure this man still loves his wife?’

      ‘Nat was merely acting on Andy’s behalf to make sure you were a suitable employer for the little sister.’ She smiled demurely. ‘Happily, you passed muster.’

      He laughed, then put a hand to his head, wincing. ‘I’m pleased I made the grade.’

      ‘Is your head bad?’ she said with sympathy.

      ‘Only when I laugh.’

      ‘I’ll give you some more pills, then you really should try to sleep.’

      ‘If I do, you’ll disappear.’ He gave her a cajoling look. ‘If I promise to sleep for a while will you stay this afternoon, and have tea with me later? In the meantime, put your feet up, watch television, or read. Take anything you like from my shelves. Another time,’ he added slyly, ‘you can bring your laptop and work here.’

      ‘There won’t be another time. You’ll be better soon.’

      ‘No, I won’t,’ he said promptly. ‘I’m very ill.’

      ‘In that case, you’d better call a doctor.’

      ‘I don’t want a doctor. I just want you to stay for a while. Though God knows I don’t blame you for wanting to run,’ he added with sudden self-disgust.

      Emily eyed him in silence for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. ‘Oh, very well. I’ll stay until six, but then I really must get back, otherwise there’ll be no point in going. I’m due at the Donaldsons’ in the morning. They come back tomorrow.’

      ‘Don’t go back. Stay the night in my spare room. I meant it just now,’ he added quickly. ‘I’ll happily pay the overtime.’

      She gave him a scornful look, took two pills from his bedside drawer, poured bottled water into a glass and handed it to him. ‘Every drop, please.’

      He obeyed, then gave her a smile which unglued her knees. ‘Thank you, Emily. I promise I won’t mention money again.’

      In contrast to the stark, minimalist effect preferred by the Donaldsons, Lucas Tennent’s taste ran to uncluttered comfort. Because the converted loft gave maximum living space but presented a problem with storage, he’d solved it by investing in a collection of chests, some of them modern, others brassbound and antique. In places the old honey-coloured brick of the walls had been left exposed, in others plastered and painted amber, the few pictures hung on them modern, bright slashes of colour. And in the short time she’d been working there Emily had come to love every inch of it.

      Her only time spent in the vast, split-level living area had been to put it in perfect order as part of her cleaning routine. But now, while the washing-machine was on its dry cycle, Emily settled down on one of the deep, tempting sofas and began to read. Before long the words started to run into each other and at last she gave up, tugged off her shoes and curled up, her head on one of the cushions. She set a mental alarm clock to wake up after half an hour, so she could check on the invalid, but woke with a start to find Lucas Tennent looking down at her.

      ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ she said penitently, scrambling to her feet to put her shoes on.

      ‘It was so quiet I thought you’d gone home after all, so I came to investigate.’

      ‘You shouldn’t be out of bed,’ she scolded, and took his arm to shepherd him back, then dropped it again in alarm when she felt the heat of his skin scorch through the clothes.

      ‘Do that again,’ he said, grinning. ‘I like it.’

      Emily gave him an exasperated glare. ‘If you’ll go back to bed,