Jack, of course, was once again blithely sauntering through life, cooking magnificently in the kitchen, experimenting with different combinations and nurturing a new relationship which, he assured her, was free of hidden complications. He should know. He had cunningly checked out her house for contradictory signals, which apparently had been his big mistake with Jodie, the Blonde with the Background.
His amusing stories at least managed to keep her on an even keel. Thank God for him! He invited her to have opinions on everything, from his cooking to his love life, never leaving her the option of slinking quietly into her own thoughts and getting overwhelmed by them. Nor did he press her to share them with him.
She had to wait until she was in bed to really indulge in the nightmare of having Angelo around. If only she had never been recommended to Georgina. If only she had not been greedy and decided that they could handle a really big job. If only, if only.
But then, something whispered in her head, don’t you feel alive for the first time in years? That always seemed to be the little voice that had the last whisper before she fell asleep and was the first to greet her when she woke up in the morning.
But as the days dragged on and the phone remained thankfully free of Angelo’s dark, disturbing voice, she felt herself begin to relax a bit more.
She had been right. There was no need for contact, at least not for a while, not until they needed to make practical arrangements for delivery of the food. They would have to discuss what staff Angelo and Georgina needed and what staff they were going to employ themselves for an event of that size. There was nothing to be gained in mentally rehearsing conversations that would take place down the line and the grind of daily life left her little time to add that further element of stress to the repertoire already there and thriving.
So she didn’t think about it. In fact, she so successfully convinced herself that he was a distant bridge that she could happily defer crossing until some unspecified time in the future that it was a shock when, on a balmy Saturday evening, she answered the phone and heard his voice down the line.
She sat down as her stomach took an immediate nosedive, quickly followed by the rest of her internal organs.
‘What are you doing?’ was the first thing he asked her, before she had time to get her head in order.
‘What am I doing when?’
‘Now.’
‘Now? I’m…I’m…well…’
‘Nothing,’ he inserted helpfully. ‘Good. Because I’ve decided to pay you a little visit.’
‘It’s nearly six-thirty, Angelo! Jack and I…have plans…’
‘Have you? That’s funny. I telephoned him at his house. You remember his number is also on your business card? Someone called Robbie answered and informed me that he’s house-sitting for the weekend because Jack’s somewhere in Yorkshire until Monday. You mean you didn’t know?’ Angelo clicked his tongue sympathetically. ‘Very bad to be kept in the dark about your boyfriend’s movements…’
Yorkshire. The wretched cricket match which he had been determined to see with his mates.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said weakly. ‘Now I remember.’
‘So I thought that I would rescue you from an evening of solitude.’
‘Don’t you have more pressing plans for a Saturday night?’
‘Georgina is…not around, shall we say? So I’ll be with you in, say, half an hour. We’re going to go and buy some food and then you are going to show me what you can do with it.’
‘Jack is the real genius when it comes to the food,’ Francesca wittered on as a sickening alternative to Saturday night in presented itself. ‘I’m the lackey, really. Chopping and stuff.’
‘Chopping’s a good start. And don’t put yourself down, Francesca. I have every faith in your talents and I’m curious to see what you can produce. I will see you shortly.’
He seemed to have become very talented at abrupt conversations because he didn’t give her time to voice any more objections. In fact, he barely gave her time to brush her hair and stick on some make-up and then the doorbell was ringing and there he was. Cool, casual and impossibly good-looking. And on her doorstep. And yes, she was horrified to see him standing there. But she was also…shamefully excited.
‘I’ve already brought the wine.’ He handed her two bottles of very expensive stuff which she dumped on the table in the hallway before grabbing her bag.
‘This is just crazy.’ Her heart was thumping madly as she looked at him. He was wearing a casual pair of cream trousers and an open-necked designer polo shirt. Against it, his skin was bronzed and vitally attractive and she didn’t want to stare so she focused on the logo on his shirt instead.