‘So, what’s up?’ Pippa asked. ‘How are things?’
‘Oh, fine – good. Still haven’t managed to find gainful employment, but I’m trying.’
‘Bloody economy. I was talking to the Post about doing something for them but their budget’s just been cut. Or that’s what they’re telling me, anyway.’ She grinned. ‘How’s Mark? Is he away this weekend?’
‘New York.’ Or Rome. He could be in Paraguay for all she knew, Hannah thought. She felt a new surge of determination. She had to do it – she had to say something. ‘Actually, Pip, I wondered . . . Taking the opportunity while he’s not about . . . I don’t know whether Dan’s mentioned anything or whether Mark’s said anything to you himself, but I’m a bit worried about him.’
Pippa looked up from sweeping the bean-ends into the waste disposal.
‘I’m sure it’s nothing and I’m overreacting, but he seems a bit . . . preoccupied.’
‘Preoccupied?’
‘I don’t know . . . kind of stressed, I suppose. I mean, he’s working very hard, which is probably part of it, going to bed late, getting up early, burning the candle at both ends . . .’ Hannah stopped, not wanting to over-egg it. ‘I just wanted to make sure that’s all it is, you know, that there’s nothing worrying him.’
‘If there was, he’d tell you, wouldn’t he?’
‘Normally I’d say yes but you know what he’s like with that whole masculine, broad-shoulders thing. Maybe if there was something on his mind, he wouldn’t tell me because he wouldn’t want to worry me.’
‘Hmm, yeah, I can see that. But no, he hasn’t mentioned anything to us. I don’t think Dan’s spoken to him since you came over for dinner, actually.’
‘Well, that’s something. I suppose I’ll just try and get him to ease up on the office hours, then.’ Frustrated, Hannah took a sip of her coffee. This was hopeless, too vague. It was like trying to pick a lock with boxing gloves on. But she couldn’t just come out and say it: discussing it with her brother was one thing, but telling Pippa, who would certainly tell Dan . . . Then again, no, thought Hannah. No. When she’d got home last night, she’d called the Ws again, just in case: no one with the name Mark Reilly was staying at any of them. She’d felt anger surge through her then: where the hell was he? Why hadn’t he given her a contact number or any way of getting hold of him? What if she had an accident? What if the house burned down? And what about the money? asked the voice.
‘Pippa, look,’ she said. ‘This is really awkward – I feel terrible bringing it up but . . . Mark’s not supposed to be away this weekend.’
‘What do you mean?’ Pippa stopped, the colander poised under the tap.
Hannah thought about telling her his story about staying on for the second meeting, but then decided, why bother? It was so patently a lie. ‘I was expecting him back on Friday night but he didn’t show up at the airport.’
Instantly Pippa looked worried. ‘Is he all right? Has something happened? Has he rung you?’
‘No, he’s all right. He rang me yesterday morning and he left a message last night, too. The thing is, he told me he’s in New York but his colleagues all seem to think he’s in Rome.’
Pippa put the colander aside, pulled out a stool and sat down. ‘A mix-up?’
‘That’s what I thought first of all, but he told his assistant he was taking me away as a surprise. His phone’s not working and he’s not staying at his usual hotel. I’ve called all the others in the chain but he’s not in any of them. If Dan were away and he’d lost his phone and he wasn’t at his usual hotel, wouldn’t he tell you and give you another number? What if there was an emergency and you needed to get hold of him?’
Pippa was quiet for several seconds, and the ticking of the giant wall clock above the table suddenly became audible. She laid her palms flat on the counter and looked Hannah in the eye. ‘I can see why you might worry,’ she said, ‘but don’t – or try not to. There’s no way Mark’s messing around – he loves you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else, not remotely.’
‘His ex, Laura . . .?’
‘Laura? No – no way. She was all right and he tried, but his heart was never in it. Look, however dodgy all this seems when you put it together, there’s going to be a simple explanation. Mark loves you – it’s blindingly obvious.’
‘Why lie, then? Why make up some codswallop story for his colleagues?’