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His Secretary Mistress(39)

By:Chantelle Shaw






The following week Jenna’s foot was still black, and she hobbled into work, cursing Lee and his spite. But she forgot her problems for a moment when she discovered Margaret in tears.

‘It’s John,’ Margaret confided as she mopped her eyes. ‘His condition is deteriorating and I don’t know if I can manage like this for much longer. Yesterday he heated up a can of soup in the microwave, and of course it exploded everywhere. While I was clearing up the mess he slipped out of the back door and was found wandering along the high street wearing his pyjamas.’

‘I thought he was attending a day center?’ Jenna murmured sympathetically.

‘He does go on weekdays, while I’m at work, but it’s up to me to look after him in the evenings and weekends, and now Alex has asked me to go to Yorkshire with him.’

‘Well, I’ll go instead. I thought that was one of my duties anyway.’

‘You and Alex don’t seem to be getting on very well at the moment,’ Margaret explained. ‘The date for Alex’s client’s court appearance was changed at the last minute, and I offered to travel up to York with him.’

‘Leave it with me,’ Jenna said briskly, and made a hurried phone call to her neighbour Nora, to ask if she could care for Maisie for the night. ‘It’s an emergency,’ she explained to Nora. ‘I know Maisie will be happy staying with you, but I’m worried about Lee finding out. He’ll be sure to accuse me of abandoning her.’

‘Don’t worry about that little toad; if he comes here he’ll get short shrift from me,’ Nora replied stoutly. ‘You’re an excellent mother, Jenna, but Lee always did knock your confidence. It’s about time you stood up to him.’

Alex was already waiting in the car, Margaret told her, but as Jenna approached the Bentley she was surprised to see him sitting in the driver’s seat, rather than his chauffeur.

‘Barton has the flu, so I’m driving,’ he explained. ‘I’d actually intended to fly, but the weather reports for the north are atrocious. Where’s Margaret?’

Swiftly Jenna detailed the reason for the change of plan and Alex studied her in silence for a moment. ‘You don’t have anything with you,’ he pointed out. ‘And it’ll be too late to drive back tonight.’

‘There must be shops in Yorkshire, Alex. I’ll buy a toothbrush and anything else I need when we arrive. Why do you need to go to York anyway?’ she asked as he negotiated the busy London streets.

‘My client’s committal hearing is in court there—although the trial will eventually take place at the Old Bailey. It’s a murder trial,’ he added. ‘Jason Doyle was allegedly stabbed to death by his wife. By all accounts it was a violent relationship, and he often beat her. It appears that she couldn’t take his drunken rages any more.’

‘And you’re prosecuting Mr Doyle’s wife?’ Jenna queried, trying to suppress a shudder. Lee had never used his fists on her, but how many more ‘accidents’ would she suffer when he was around?

Alex threw her a glance, his curiosity aroused by the forceful emotion in her voice. ‘No, I’m defending Susan Doyle. The poor woman has had a terrible life; I just hope I can arrange bail.’

They arrived in York mid-afternoon and went straight to the magistrates court. Snow had been falling across the northern counties all day, and by early evening the roads around the city were gridlocked.

‘We’re booked into a hotel on the outskirts of town,’ Alex said, his impatience tangible as they sat in a queue of traffic. ‘If we turn off at the next junction we should be able to follow a loop around the city and reach the hotel that way. Here—take the map.’

Forty-five minutes later Alex’s temper was as filthy as the weather, and he cursed as he peered through the wind-screen, his vision rapidly impeded by the snow that was falling faster than the wipers could cope with.

‘Where the hell are we? I’m sure we’ve come too far away from the town and we’re heading onto the moors.’

‘Take the next right,’ Jenna advised as she frantically scanned the map.

‘Are you sure? York’s to the left of us—I can see lights in the distance and I’m going to head towards them.’

‘The map says turn right,’ Jenna insisted, but then gave up. She was all too familiar with Alex’s stubborn streak and deemed it wiser to say nothing as the road grew narrower and his impatience became a palpable force.

The wind whipped the snow into drifts, the road no more than a cart track now, while all around the darkness closed in on them. Eventually Alex cut the engine.