Sylvie bit her lip. It was true that her mother did not approve of her attachment to Otel Place and would have preferred it if, like her, Sylvie had been a city person.
‘I’m an adult now,’ she told Ran bravely. ‘I make my own decisions, my own choices...’
‘I see... And entertaining your friends wearing nothing but one of Alex’s shirts is one of those choices, is it, Sylvie?’
Her face burned. There was no hint of jealousy in his voice now, only a familiar older-brother note of censure.
‘I...I wasn’t expecting Wayne to come round. It was so hot. I had a shower and...’
‘Wayne... This wouldn’t be the friend who’s borrowed half your last quarter’s allowance from you, would it?’ Ran challenged her.
Sylvie blanched. Alex had obviously told him about that; she wished that he hadn’t.
‘I... He’ll pay me back.’ She defended both Wayne’s request and her own acceptance of it.
‘Things have certainly changed since my time at university,’ Ran told her cynically. ‘Then it was the man who did the chasing, the pursuing, not the woman who had to secure the man’s attentions by offering him money.’
Sylvie stared at him, unable to keep either her shock or the pain his words had caused her from showing in her eyes.
‘It isn’t like that... I haven’t been pursuing Wayne. I don’t...’
She stopped abruptly and looked away from him. How could she tell Ran of all men...people...that she didn’t run after his sex, when he had good reason to believe otherwise after the ways she had so blatantly revealed her feelings for him? Now he was looking at her in that horribly cynical way, his mouth twisting in mocking contempt.
‘Alex asked me to come,’ he told her as she remained silent. ‘He’s had to go away on business but he asked me to come and give you this...’
As he spoke Ran was removing a cheque from his wallet which he handed to her.
Swallowing hard, Sylvie took it from him.
‘You could have posted it to me,’ she told him in a small voice.
‘Alex wanted it delivered in person.’
‘It’s a long drive... I could... Would you like something to drink...to eat...?’
‘Coffee will be fine,’ Ran told her shortly, following her as she automatically started to walk into her small living room.
The bottle of wine Wayne had brought with him was still on the table, her own glass nearly empty, and Sylvie saw the hard look Ran gave it as he walked past her work table.
A wooden divider separated the living room end of the room from the small kitchenette, and Ran leaned against it as Sylvie bustled about making them both a cup of coffee.
‘You’ve lost weight,’ Ran told her abruptly when she finally handed him his mug. ‘It is just sex this friend of yours is dealing in, isn’t it, Sylvie...?’
As the meaning of his words sank in Sylvie put down her own mug of coffee, her face burning with indignation.
‘I’m not taking drugs, if that’s what you’re suggesting,’ she told him angrily. ‘I’m not that stupid, Ran.’