Chapter Eighteen

‘YOU FANCY HIM, don’t you?’ Molly teased.

‘Who?’ Katie winced at the elbow in her side as Molly made herself more comfy in the bed beside her.

‘You know who. I saw you last night, when we were having dinner, laughing at all his jokes and speaking in that funny voice …’

‘What funny voice?’

‘The one you always put on when you fancy someone. You should hear yourself, you go all like, posh and witty and blah …’

‘I’m always like that,’ Katie protested, laughing.

‘Yeah, but you still fancy him.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Of course you doooo!’

Katie gasped as Molly started to tickle her. ‘Stop it! Stop,’ she cried, trying to push her away.

‘Not until you admit it. Say, I fancy Tom Chambers.’

‘Ssh, someone’ll hear you.’

‘Like who? It’s not even eight o’clock and we’re the only ones here.’ And feeling like, so released because Michelle wasn’t there, and so able to breathe again, she wrapped her arms round her mother and hugged her hard.

‘Ow! What was that for?’ Katie grimaced, wishing she’d taken her morphine already, because the pain was quite bad this morning and she didn’t want to get up yet.

‘It was just for nothing,’ Molly told her.

Turning on to her side so she could see her better, Katie said, ‘So tell me about this Brad.’

‘Oh no,’ Molly protested, blushing. ‘We’re not changing the subject until you admit you fancy Tom.’

Assuming one of her best long-suffering looks, designed to tell someone of fourteen that they were right in what they’d picked up on, but wrong in the way they’d interpreted it, Katie said, ‘He’s a very attractive man, and I like him a lot, but even you must have noticed he’s mad about Michelle and …’

‘Do you reckon he’ll take her with him when he goes?’ Molly jumped in. ‘It would be so cool if he did, wouldn’t it? We’d be like, just you and me again, the way it used to be. It’s better like that, isn’t it? I mean, I know like, Michelle’s your sister, and all that, and she’s company for you, but this place isn’t really big enough for all of us, is it?’

Katie’s heart weighed heavily as she looked into Molly’s pretty green eyes, that, ironically, were so like Michelle’s and so unable to disguise all the inner turmoil she was trying to suppress. If ever there was a right time to tell her the truth it was probably now, she realized, while no-one else was around and wouldn’t be for several hours, until Tom and Michelle came back for lunch. So could she muster the words? Was she able to tell Molly right now why Michelle had to stay, and why nothing was going to be the same again?

Almost as though sensing what was coming, Molly started to draw back. At the same instant a giant fist of pain clenched Katie’s insides. She gasped, and quickly turned it into a laugh as Molly paled. ‘Come here,’ she growled playfully, starting to tickle her. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet.’

‘No! Stop! Stop!’ Molly cried, laughing.

‘Not unless you go and make some tea and bring up the paper.’

‘All right! All right! Anything, just stop … tickling …’

Katie let her go, and grinned as she watched her catch her breath.

‘You know what would be really cool,’ Molly said, rolling on to her back and staring up at the ceiling, ‘is if Michelle went and Tom stayed.’

‘Molly! Will you get it out of your head that I fancy Tom. I told you …’

‘I know, I know, but it would be cool, wouldn’t it? I mean, we could be like a family, and then you might stop flirting with everyone and embarrassing me.’

Katie exploded with laughter. ‘I do not flirt,’ she protested.

‘Oh, excuse me. What about that time with Elliot Russell? Oh my God, I wanted to die.’

Katie was still laughing. ‘Actually, if anyone was flirting with Tom last night, I think it was you.’

Molly was totally grossed out. ‘Oh puhleeze,’ she snorted. ‘He’s old enough to be my grandfather.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Katie responded. ‘Not even close, in fact.’

‘Well, he’s definitely old.’

Though Katie was still smiling, the pain was forming such a grip on her now that she could hardly think past it. She closed her eyes and held herself rigid as she waited for it to peak, knowing she should breathe through it, but she couldn’t with Molly there. At the top she thought she might scream it was so bad, but mercifully, after a moment or two, it started slowly to shrink back, and not long after that she was able to say, in a voice that was only slightly shredded, ‘Where’s that tea? I’m gasping.’

Springing out of bed, Molly charged off down the stairs, Trotty at her heels, while Katie forced herself up and into the bathroom. The fact that the pain was so bad this soon after the chemo top-up was scaring her badly, though she tried to take comfort from the fact that she was rarely this late with her drugs.

After swilling down the morphine, followed by the anti-emetics, then the megace, she stood over the sink waiting for the fiery swords inside to blunt, and finally fade. It was several minutes before she could lift her head, or even move a muscle, but finally as the morphine started to take effect she was able to inhale a deep, shuddering breath and look in the mirror. Thanks to the fake tan she’d used for her interview she didn’t look as bad as she felt, though the yellowness of her eyes seemed much more noticeable this morning, and her lips were bloodless and cracked.

Improving that with water and a faint smear of lipstick, she took another deep breath and started back to the bedroom. As she reached the landing she could hear Molly clattering about downstairs, while singing along to the radio, and chatting to Trotty. She paused for a moment to listen, and pictured her dancing about in her white lacy tank top and thin pyjama bottoms, thinking she was the coolest thing ever to hit fourteen. Was she really planning to decimate the poor child’s rare good mood with the worst news imaginable? Tom was fairly certain he’d have to leave by tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest, so why spoil what little time he was here? It wasn’t as if she was going to pop her clogs in the next twenty-four hours, or even the next week – perhaps even month … Aha, there was that old devil hope again, batting around in the positive court, and knocking back the horizons every time it took a swipe.

Going to snuggle back under the duvet she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift as the pain continued to subside. Michelle’s talk at the village hall had gone down well last night, and everyone had been delighted to have Tom join in. Molly, predictably, had muttered that Michelle was dead boring – though she’d looked fascinated enough – but it seemed Tom could do no wrong in her eyes, and for that, at least, Katie was thankful. Tom was going to play a big part in Molly’s life, Katie was sure of it, because one look at Michelle’s flushed and happy face last night was enough to tell her that something had been decided between them. Katie suspected, hoped, it was the commitment Michelle longed for, and that would give Molly the family and stability she needed.

After a while her thoughts moved on to Laurie and how things might have gone with Elliot last night. It was easy to imagine it all working out between them, for she didn’t doubt that they still loved each other, but would that be enough in the end? She certainly hoped so, though if the past few months had taught her anything, it was that life had a peculiar way of changing the course just when you were least expecting it. Actually, she wouldn’t mind it changing course for her right now, but since that was unlikely to happen, she’d pluck herself from the shallows of self-pity, and plump up the pillows a bit, because Molly was trudging up the stairs with breakfast. In fact, she was starting to feel a bit peckish, she realized, so the megace must be motoring home to the right address.

Putting the tray on the bed, Molly tucked one leg under her as she sat down next to it and began to pour out the tea. After passing a cup to her mother she sat chewing on the side of her thumbnail, while Katie spread out the paper.

‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’ Katie asked, scanning the editorial page.

Molly shrugged. ‘Nothing.’

‘Yes it is, so come on, out with it. I expect it’s Brad, so I want to hear all about him.’

‘It’s not Brad,’ Molly protested. ‘If you must know, I was thinking that it really would be cool if Tom could stay here, and Michelle could be the one to go.’

With a sinking heart Katie looked up and fixed her with implacable eyes. ‘Michelle’s staying,’ she said gently.

Molly flushed and quickly picked up her toast. ‘You’re not eating yours,’ she said, passing a slice to Katie.

Katie took it, and started to eat, wondering what was really cooking in those frontal lobes of her daughter’s, for she surely wasn’t telling herself that a relationship with Tom Chambers was possible. ‘Are you going to help me with lunch?’ she said after a while.

Molly sighed. ‘OK, but do I have to stay?’

Katie looked at her in surprise.

Molly’s expression was already moulding itself round a begging sort of protest. ‘Oh Mum,’ she cried, before Katie could even speak. ‘Please! You know I hate Sunday roast, and I said I’d go over to Allison’s to watch EastEnders, because I haven’t seen it all week, and she’s got this new DVD with all these pop videos …’

‘But Tom and Michelle are coming. I thought you’d want to see Tom …’

‘I do, but he’ll probably still be here when I get back so I can see him then. Oh, please, Mum, please.’

Katie was frowning suspiciously. ‘Is this Brad going to be there?’ she asked. ‘Is that why you’re so keen to go?’

‘No! I swear. I just want to go over there. And you know what you’re like, when you all get together. It’ll be the same as last night, you’ll just talk about politics and boring stuff like that, so you don’t want me hanging around.’

Having to concede that it probably wouldn’t be much fun for Molly when they became engrossed in all the research again, which they inevitably would, she said, ‘OK, just stay and say hello, and at least have a starter.’

‘All right,’ Molly agreed, and climbing back into bed next to Katie she rested her head on her shoulder and started flicking through the Review.

Stuart Fellowes was with DI Jack Wilding at Paddington Green police station. They were waiting for the arrest warrant to come through that would allow them to pick up Tom Chambers, who they now knew was holed up with his girlfriend in a Wiltshire hotel. Unofficially Fellowes was running the show, which wasn’t sitting well with Wilding, but the man would just have to swallow it. Britain might be his territory, but this was predominantly America’s war, and Chambers was one of theirs.

The instructions were to keep it low key. No SWAT teams, no sirens, and as few uniforms as possible. They already had a satellite positioning on both locations – the hotel and the girlfriend’s home – knew how long it would take to get there, and had just primed the nearest safe facility to be ready for Chambers once they had him. An advance team of two was on its way down the M4 now to stake the place out and keep Fellowes and Wilding in touch with what was happening on the ground.

Slouched in his chair, Fellowes looked at the clock. Ten thirty-six. That would put it at five thirty-six a.m. in Washington. Someone had to be out of bed though, to have sent the email telling him a warrant was being prepared for Chambers’s arrest, so he needed to get himself over to Paddington and be ready to move.

So he was here, and ready, and now Fellowes would like to know what the hell was taking them so long.

Not much more than a mile away, at SIS HQ in Vauxhall Cross, Michael Dalby, Sir Christopher Malton and Edmund Foxe-Randall, the Prime Minister’s Chief of Staff, were engaged in a highly secure video-conference call to Washington. At the other end were Daniel Allbringer, Deborah Gough, and the deputy director of the FBI, Stanley Jacobs.

‘I repeat,’ Dalby was saying, ‘to pick him up in this country is asking for trouble. The press will be straight on it, and if you’re not ready to back up those charges …’

‘He’s carrying the evidence,’ Allbringer interrupted, ‘we just need to make sure he’s in possession when they make the arrest. Or that it’s in the vicinity.’

‘And if it’s not?’

‘Our guys can deal with it. Once he’s in custody, he won’t be your problem.’

‘Do you have a press statement ready?’ Foxe-Randall enquired.

‘It’s being worked on now. It’ll be finished by the time it’s needed. Now, you’re certain Russell, Forbes and van Zant are all in London?’

‘That’s right,’ Dalby confirmed. ‘But let me remind you again that if you want to do this out of sight of the press you’re choosing the wrong location. Katie Kiernan, the girlfriend’s sister, isn’t only one of them, but in her time she was extremely influential, not least of all with the public. Add to that the fact that she’s a single mother dying of cancer, then you tell me if you think that’s the house to go storming into.’

‘It won’t be necessary if Chambers is still at the hotel,’ Deborah Gough stated. ‘And let’s not forget, gentlemen, this man has a long track record of associating with terrorists, and since he’s currently carrying evidence of a plot to attack one of your nuclear sites I don’t see what the hell difference it makes where we pick him up.’

The three men in Dalby’s office exchanged glances. The woman had obviously made up her mind about this. She wanted Chambers in custody, which none of them had a problem with, but for as long as he was on their territory they were going to be answerable to the House and the British public – and with Elliot Russell asking the questions, they had to be damned certain they could make this stand up.

‘We need to see the press statement and the warrant,’ Foxe-Randall stated. ‘Until then, no-one moves.’

Laurie and Elliot were walking hand in hand along the river path, heading towards Tate Modern. It was a chilly, dull morning, so they both wore coats and scarves, and in Laurie’s case dark glasses to mask her tired eyes. She hadn’t slept well, and she didn’t think Elliot had either, for the light in the guest room had been on when she’d gone downstairs to get a drink around three, and he’d been up before her this morning, because he’d brought her tea and croissants in bed.

He’d stayed to eat with her, and had linked his fingers through hers as they’d talked, but when she’d allowed the strap of her nightie to slide off her shoulder, almost revealing a breast, he’d merely lifted it up again, and after kissing her briefly on the mouth had picked up the tray and carried it back downstairs.

That his willpower was so unshakable was unsettling her badly, though for the moment they’d put their relationship problems on hold in order to discuss what Tom’s next moves were going to be.

‘Chris is already on standby to whisk him over to France,’ Elliot was saying. ‘He’ll leave tonight, or in the morning, and I’ll join him in a couple of days, down at Jean-Jacques’ place in Burgundy.’

Remembering the long weekends they’d spent at the quaint little cottage at the edge of a tiny hamlet, Laurie said, ‘Don’t forget Jean-Jacques always expects the best wine to be left after he’s loaned the place out.’

Elliot smiled. ‘Considering the location, that’s never a problem,’ he responded. Then bringing them back to today, ‘What time is Nick expecting you?’

‘Around one,’ she answered, managing to keep her voice as neutral as his.

‘If the ’97 version gives us the proof, or connection we’re looking for,’ he said, ‘we could be ready for print by the end of the week.’

‘Have you decided who you want to run it?’

‘We think a simultaneous publishing event is probably the way to go – if we can pull it off,’ he answered. ‘It’s what I was making calls about last night. One of them was to Nick. He’s going to set up meetings with various European editors over the next few days to brief them on the way this is going, and get an idea of who’s willing to run with it, and who’s not. Pissing off the US isn’t particularly recommended for the long-term health, so there might not be as many takers as we’d like. Max will have a bigger problem, because he’s doing the same in the States.’

Thrown by the fact that he’d been speaking to Nick at the very time Nick was probably assuming she was ending the relationship, she found herself turning slightly hot with discomfort. ‘Is there anything more I can do, besides help run a comparison of the documents?’ she said, wondering what else he’d talked to Nick about. ‘Any statements or interviews you need? Backgrounds?’

‘Would you like some coffee?’ he said, as they approached a café that was open.

‘Not unless you would.’

‘I’m fine. What I was thinking,’ he continued, as they walked on, ‘was that you might like to go with Nick when he leaves for Europe tomorrow. You’re as informed on the details as he is, and it would probably help considerably to have a double presentation, plus it would give you the chance to spend some time together.’

Hardly able to believe what he’d said, or the matter-of-fact way in which he’d delivered it, she stopped and turned to face him. ‘I take it you’re not serious,’ she said.

Experiencing relief that she’d responded that way, he said, ‘On the contrary, I’m absolutely serious. I thought you would welcome it as a chance to find out if your relationship could work.’

Her eyes turned bright with anger. This wasn’t making any sense, because no-one could just let someone they loved – someone they were supposed to be rebuilding a relationship with – take off with another man. If the roles were reversed and there was a chance of him going somewhere with Andraya she’d not only be beside herself, she’d be doing everything she could to stop him. So something wasn’t right, and she had a horrible, sickening feeling she knew what it was.

‘I want to know what’s going on,’ she demanded. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘You told me last night that you don’t know what you want,’ he reminded her. ‘I’m trying, for all our sakes, to help you find out, and I thought spending some time with him …’

She was shaking her head. ‘No, there’s more to it,’ she insisted. ‘You’re trying to get me out of the way and I want to know why.’

He frowned in confusion. ‘What on earth are you talking about? I’m not even going to be here myself. I’ll be with Tom, in France. Jesus Christ, Laurie. You’re the one having an affair here, not me, so don’t …’

‘Are you sure about that?’ she cut in.

His jaw immediately tightened. ‘Yes, I’m sure, but obviously you aren’t.’

Fury was draining the blood from her face. ‘I know she’s in London,’ she told him, her eyes blazing the challenge.

He didn’t even flinch. ‘This has got nothing to do with her,’ he responded, ‘so before we go any further with this, let me say it again, you are the one having an affair …’

‘And you are the one who seems ecstatically happy about it. So I want to know why? Doesn’t it bother you, to think of me with another man? You know what we’ll be doing, so doesn’t it mean anything to you?’

His face was turning pale, as his anger clearly deepened. ‘If that’s what you think, then we could be wasting our time,’ he said darkly.

‘I don’t know what to think,’ she shouted, ‘but I do know that I’m finding your response to me and Nick very strange indeed.’

‘Well I’m sorry if I can’t oblige with the way you think I should respond,’ he said bitingly, ‘but this is it! This is the way I’m handling it, and if it doesn’t work for you, then I’m afraid that’s your problem, not mine.’

She was so angry now that it was right on the tip of her tongue to tell him that there was no point going on, they clearly weren’t ever going to work things out, so they might just as well stop trying. Had an exuberant dog not suddenly bounded up to her out of the blue, knocking her back a few paces, nothing would have stopped her.

Immediately the dog’s owners came rushing up to apologize, the dog was scolded, and as Laurie assured them there was no harm done, while ruffling the dog’s head, the moment of intense anger passed.

As the couple walked on, Elliot turned back to Laurie. ‘If you don’t want to go to Europe with Nick, no-one’s going to be happier than me,’ he told her.

She turned sharply away to look off across the river.

‘I can’t help noticing that you aren’t turning the opportunity down,’ he commented.

Her eyes came back to his. ‘Why should I, when you’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want me in your bed,’ she snapped nastily.

‘Not while you’re sleeping with another man,’ he told her. ‘Now let’s drop this, shall we? We’re starting to become a sideshow, and I don’t think that’s what either of us wants.’

Realizing that they were indeed attracting attention, Laurie fell into step beside him as he turned back in the direction of Shad Thames, and though still furious, she slipped a hand into his pocket, and felt his fingers link around hers.

Neither of them spoke the entire way back, though she was acutely aware of the mounting tension. As they rode up in the lift, still silent, they stared harshly into each other’s eyes, letting the air between them continue to simmer. Then quite suddenly, Elliot tilted her face to his and kissed her fully on the mouth. Almost buckling under the powerful surge of desire, she did nothing to resist. When the door opened he was still kissing her, and he didn’t stop until one of their neighbours gave a polite little cough to let them know she was there.

Apologizing, they stepped out of the lift, but as they started towards the front door Laurie stopped dead in shock.

Elliot collided into her, then he too saw the woman standing outside their apartment.

‘Elliot, darling,’ Andraya purred, her big sultry eyes and pouting lips oozing more appeal than could ever be decent. ‘I am sorry. Have I come too early?’

Laurie’s heart twisted with horror. He’d invited her here?

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Elliot demanded. ‘I told you …’

‘I know, darling, you told me not to come while she was here, but I thought …’

‘For God’s sake! It’s over, Andraya,’ he shouted.

Andraya’s lustrous eyes stayed on him as she let her raincoat fall open. Beneath was a skintight, snake-print cat suit that was open to the waist and revealed almost all of her enormous olive-toned breasts. ‘I understand you are saying that for her benefit,’ she purred, ‘but she needs to know the truth, Elliot. I’m sure he’s told you that it is over between us,’ she said to Laurie, ‘and it was … I thought I was bored, you see, but I was wrong … He is such a good lover, as you know.’

Laurie could hardly tear her eyes away. This was her nemesis. Her arch-rival. The source of all her misery and nightmares. She was like a snake shedding its skin in that cringingly tarty catsuit with its zip right down to her navel and all that garish black and silver lycra clinging to her limbs. Even so, there was no denying the power of her sexuality, nor the mesmerizing potency of her beauty, for it emanated from her in waves strong enough to stun any prey. Even Laurie couldn’t claim to be immune, for next to a woman like Andraya it was hard to feel anything but drab.

Then she realized Elliot was saying nothing, and Andraya was smiling into his eyes.

‘When you called yesterday,’ Andraya was murmuring, her carefully manicured fingers stroking her cleavage, ‘I know straight away that …’

Laurie looked at him. He’d called her!

Unable to bear another moment, she spun round and started to run. Elliot tried to grab her, but she was too fast, and tearing open the fire door she raced down the stairs to the car park.

It was only when she was halfway to Nick’s that she realized Elliot had neither tried to call her mobile nor come after her.

The chicken was roasting away, the potatoes had just gone in and the rest of the vegetables were chilling out in cold water ready for the big steam-up. Now Katie had time to relax with the paper for ten minutes before Molly emerged from the shower, where she was currently blunting razors with her unhairy legs.

‘Come on Trots,’ she said to the dog, who was looking all downcast and fluffy after being plopped in the bath following her morning walk, ‘time for coffee and a cuddle.’

As she led the way into the sitting room, her eye was caught by a small grey metal case that was poking out from under a cushion on the sofa. Recognizing it as Laurie’s organizer, she felt surprised that Laurie hadn’t missed it – or maybe she had, and hadn’t realized it was here. ‘Better call and let her know it’s safe,’ she told Trotty.

After dialling the Butler’s Wharf apartment, she carried the phone back into the sitting room, and was just sinking into her sumptuous fireside chair when Elliot’s voice came down the line.

‘Hi, it’s Katie,’ she told him. ‘Are you still in bed?’

‘At midday?’ he responded, ‘that would be a treat. Is everything OK your end?’

‘Yes, yes. We’re all sizzling along. I’m calling to tell Laurie she left her life-support machine here yesterday, in case she’s looking for it. By that, I mean her Palm Pilot thingy.’

‘I don’t think she’s missed it,’ he said. ‘Or she hasn’t mentioned it, but she’s not here, I’m afraid.’

‘OK, I’ll try her mobile, but before I go, am I allowed to ask how things are between you?’

Elliot sighed. ‘Probably about as bad as they can get,’ he answered. ‘Andraya turned up with no warning about twenty minutes ago and now Laurie’s on her way to Nick’s, or I presume she is. She has to go there anyway to pick up the pages he brought back from the States, and I’m trying to take your advice to give her some space.’

Katie’s head drew back as she looked at the phone in amazement. ‘I don’t think now is the time to do that,’ she told him. ‘It’s reassurance she needs, after coming face to face with your mistress.’

‘She’s not my mistress, and let’s not forget, Katie, Laurie’s the one having an affair here, not me.’

‘No, what she’s doing is fixating on another man because she’s afraid of trusting you again, and if Andraya’s going to start popping up all over the place … Where is she now?’

‘God knows. I managed to get rid of her, but Laurie had already gone by then.’

Katie shook her head in dismay. ‘Elliot, you have to get that woman off your back, or you really will be heading for trouble.’

‘Believe me, I’m trying, but she’s not someone who has a great understanding of no.’

‘Then you’ll have to be blisteringly brutal,’ Katie told him, standing up as she heard a car arriving outside.

‘Even more than I already have,’ he said wryly. ‘I didn’t end it with much subtlety, I can tell you, but that’s a story for another time.’

‘I’m afraid it’ll have to be, as my lunch guests have just bowled up early,’ she said, giving Michelle a wave. ‘But I will say this, there’s giving someone space and then there’s giving them so much space they end up thinking you don’t care. So remember what I told you, make sure she knows she’s loved, then let her take a look at what she’s doing.’

Elliot groaned. ‘This is too much for a mere male,’ he complained. ‘Tell me, was suggesting she should go to Europe with Nick next week the wrong thing to do?’

Once again Katie looked at the phone in amazement. ‘What did she say?’ she demanded.

‘She wasn’t very pleased.’

Katie chuckled. ‘I’ll bet she wasn’t. I’ll bet she doesn’t go either. In fact, if it weren’t for Andraya’s bad timing, I’d say you’d be very much on course for relationship rescue right now. But all is not lost. You love each other, and in the end that’s what really counts. Now I really must go.’

‘I love you,’ he told her. ‘I’ll call again later. And thanks.’

‘Any time.’

Going to drop the phone back on its base, Katie beamed as Michelle came in the door with a bottle of champagne and a huge bunch of roses. ‘Bottle from me, flowers from Tom,’ Michelle declared. Then frowning, ‘Are you OK? You look a bit peaky.’

‘Charming,’ Katie retorted, and shoved her aside to get stuck into a good hearty hug with Tom. ‘How was the hotel?’ she asked.

‘It was great,’ he answered. ‘Kind of old and charming and quintessentially English.’

‘Much like the piece you were there with?’ she said cheerily.

Michelle’s eyes narrowed. ‘I missed you,’ she told her.

‘I missed you too.’ Walking into each other’s arms, they embraced warmly. ‘Can we open the bottle now?’ Katie asked.

‘I hope so,’ Tom answered. ‘We’re celebrating.’

Katie’s brows arched curiously, though one look at their faces was enough to confirm her earlier suspicions. ‘Don’t tell me, you’re going to make an honest woman of her,’ she declared.

Tom grinned. ‘That’s the plan. And we’re going to base ourselves here, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.’

Feeling her throat tighten, Katie wrapped Michelle in her arms again. ‘I’m so happy for you,’ she whispered. ‘I knew it would happen, of course, though God knows you took your time, the two of you.’

‘Which is why we’re not going to waste any more,’ Tom informed her, starting to open the champagne. ‘Just as soon as we can arrange it, she’s going to become Mrs Chambers.’

Michelle’s eyes were so full of love as she looked up at him, that Katie might have imitated a violin had she not felt herself moving close to tears.

‘I’m such a sentimental old thing,’ she laughed, dabbing them away, and deciding that perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell them that Molly already had designs on Tom as a father, since, for the moment at least, it was the wrong mother.

‘We’d like Molly to be bridesmaid,’ Michelle said, taking some glasses down from the cupboard.

‘And you to be my best woman,’ Tom added.

‘Oh my, oh my,’ Katie cried, as more tears began flowing down her cheeks. ‘How wonderful. Of course, we’d love to, both of us. Wouldn’t we, Molly?’ she said, as Molly dropped down from the last stair into the kitchen. She was wearing, Katie noted immediately, not only the earrings and necklace Michelle had told her last night were actually from Tom, but a snazzy little top that concertinaed over her C-cups at full stretch. The sulky little smirk that she reserved for people she was happy to see, while not necessarily wanting them to know this, was also in evidence. In fact, Katie thought with a thud of alarm, she’d obviously decided to have a go at hooking Tom on her mother’s behalf.

‘Wouldn’t we what?’ Molly asked, blushing as Tom looked at her admiringly.

Bracing herself, and already praying the response wouldn’t be too shudderingly horrible, Katie said, ‘Tom and Michelle are getting married.’

Molly’s face instantly drained.

‘Have some champagne,’ Katie coaxed, thrusting a glass at her.

‘I don’t want it!’ Molly snapped.

‘Hey, Molly,’ Tom chided. ‘I thought you’d be happy for us.’

‘What’s it got to do with me? I don’t care what you do,’ Molly said tightly, and shooting Michelle a scathing look she stalked out of the door.

‘No, don’t,’ Tom said, as Katie started furiously after her.

‘But she can’t be allowed to get away with that,’ Katie protested.

‘Look, deep inside she’s suffering,’ he said gently, ‘we know that, and we know why. So it’s not something that can be dealt with by hauling her back here and making her apologize. We have to come at it another way, and I don’t think today’s the day to start trying. So let her go, she’ll come back when she’s ready, and if we feel it’s appropriate to deal with it then, we will. If not, it will be dealt with, and hopefully in a way that’s going to make her less hostile towards Michelle, and a little more receptive to what’s actually happening.’

The lump was back in Katie’s throat as she looked at him. ‘You’re going to make a wonderful father,’ she told him hoarsely.

His eyes moved to Michelle. ‘I hope so,’ he said softly.

Michelle smiled and went to put her arms around him. ‘You will,’ she assured him, as he kissed her gently on the lips.

Katie watched, and as a new little suspicion began to take root she tried to decide whether it would be good for Molly if Michelle were pregnant. She wasn’t sure it would, because Molly might start to feel left out, and if Robbie came to join them too then Michelle would have two of her own who’d inevitably come before Molly. Except Michelle wasn’t like that. She loved everyone, and knowing her she’d go out of her way to put Molly first, but the fear of Molly feeling lonely and left out was already descending. Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to blank it out easily, Katie decided to give Michelle and Tom a few private minutes for their not-so-secret secret. So excusing herself, she trotted off upstairs for a quick slug of morphine and a hasty commune with her higher self, after which she should be able to come down again, all fresh and cheery and ready to put on the sprouts.

Fellowes’s opaque brown eyes slid from the newspaper he was reading to the phone on Wilding’s desk. The British double ring had always irritated him, and having waited so long for this one made no difference.

Wilding picked up the receiver, listened to the voice at the other end then passed it to Fellowes.

It was Nancy Goodman letting him know that the arrest warrant had come through. ‘I’ll bring it over right away,’ she told him.

‘We’ll meet you out front,’ Fellowes responded and put down the phone. ‘OK,’ he said to Wilding, ‘let’s move.’