‘Alone!’
‘Hey, what can’t I hear?’ he asked plaintively.
Isabella let go of Cassie’s arm and wrapped herself around Jake’s neck. She planted an enthusiastic kiss on his lips then pulled away. ‘Girl talk.’
It seemed to convince him. He raised his hands in defeat. ‘OK. In that case, I’m definitely going. See you later, girls.’
Isabella grinned and waved him goodbye.
When he’d disappeared from sight, Cassie exhaled deeply. ‘I feel like a shit,’ she muttered.
Isabella clasped her hand. ‘Thank you, Cassie.’
‘For what? Lying to him?’
‘For being discreet. I don’t want him to know about the feeding. It will bring back too many painful memories of Jess.’
Cassie let Isabella precede her into the elevator. ‘He’s got to know eventually.’
‘Yes,’ conceded Isabella miserably. ‘But not yet, hmm?’
‘The longer we leave it …’
‘The longer he’ll be happy. Ignorance is blissful, isn’t it? So let’s not tell him just yet.’
‘OK,’ sighed Cassie as the elevator door slid silently open at their floor. ‘But I want a favour for keeping my mouth shut.’
Isabella slipped her arm through Cassie’s. ‘Name it! A polo pony?’
Cassie giggled. ‘As if. All I want is a shot on your laptop, to check my emails and stuff ?’
‘Ooh, you ask so much.’ Isabella tossed her hair dramatically, then laughed. Sweeping into their room and flinging her bag on to her bed, she patted her laptop. ‘There you go!’
Cassie logged on, found her webmail folder and scrolled down through the messages. A couple of emails from the kids back at Cranlake, including some really bad jokes which made her laugh out loud. Otherwise nothing but special offers from websites she’d visited. Boring.
There was one more. Although she was expecting it, the sender’s name on the last message in the folder hit her with a jolt. With a flush of guilt, she took a deep breath.
From: Patrick Malone
Subject: Fw: Fw: How’s things?
Give the man his due, he was persistent. He had sent the same email three times now, with minor variations. How was New York? How was the flight? Was she OK? He hadn’t heard from her – was something wrong? Could she just reply to this, or better yet call him, so he’d know she was OK? Cassie, could you please just acknowledge this? How are you feeling?
She sighed. How was she feeling? Not ready to talk.
Definitely not ready to confront what had happened at Christmas, or what Patrick might know …
Gently she stroked the touchpad, guiding the cursor to the delete button.
Delete this message?
Hesitating only for a moment, she clicked ‘Yes’.
CHAPTER SIX
C assie took a deep breath. It seemed a daring act of sacrilege just to touch the beautiful inlaid common-room door. The patterns were so intricate, so delicate, she was afraid she might break the wood.
But let’s face it: that wasn’t why she was hesitating. She eyed Ranjit nervously as he stepped forward and placed his hand on the gleaming silver handle.
‘Relax. It’ll be fun,’ he murmured, reaching down with his other hand to take her own. She rolled her eyes and tried to smile. Ranjit turned the handle and the door swung open.
As they walked in, Cassie took a breath. Why had she been expecting the same Parisian common room, with its antiques and dark fabrics, jewelled lamps and glassware? This vast space, only a floor below Sir Alric’s penthouse office, was flooded with light from its glass walls and the frosty blue sky beyond. The leather sofas were clean-lined and ivory-white; the furniture was sleek and minimalist but visibly expensive. Her trainers squeaked on a pale hardwood floor as they crossed the room under stares that ranged from surprised to friendly to violently hostile.
‘Hey, you two!’ Cormac leaped to his feet, and Ayeesha gave them one of her radiant grins. ‘Good to see you both. Come along in and meet the others, Cassie.’
It was extraordinary, she thought, the way
‘Hey, what can’t I hear?’ he asked plaintively.
Isabella let go of Cassie’s arm and wrapped herself around Jake’s neck. She planted an enthusiastic kiss on his lips then pulled away. ‘Girl talk.’
It seemed to convince him. He raised his hands in defeat. ‘OK. In that case, I’m definitely going. See you later, girls.’
Isabella grinned and waved him goodbye.
When he’d disappeared from sight, Cassie exhaled deeply. ‘I feel like a shit,’ she muttered.
Isabella clasped her hand. ‘Thank you, Cassie.’
‘For what? Lying to him?’
‘For being discreet. I don’t want him to know about the feeding. It will bring back too many painful memories of Jess.’
Cassie let Isabella precede her into the elevator. ‘He’s got to know eventually.’
‘Yes,’ conceded Isabella miserably. ‘But not yet, hmm?’
‘The longer we leave it …’
‘The longer he’ll be happy. Ignorance is blissful, isn’t it? So let’s not tell him just yet.’
‘OK,’ sighed Cassie as the elevator door slid silently open at their floor. ‘But I want a favour for keeping my mouth shut.’
Isabella slipped her arm through Cassie’s. ‘Name it! A polo pony?’
Cassie giggled. ‘As if. All I want is a shot on your laptop, to check my emails and stuff ?’
‘Ooh, you ask so much.’ Isabella tossed her hair dramatically, then laughed. Sweeping into their room and flinging her bag on to her bed, she patted her laptop. ‘There you go!’
Cassie logged on, found her webmail folder and scrolled down through the messages. A couple of emails from the kids back at Cranlake, including some really bad jokes which made her laugh out loud. Otherwise nothing but special offers from websites she’d visited. Boring.
There was one more. Although she was expecting it, the sender’s name on the last message in the folder hit her with a jolt. With a flush of guilt, she took a deep breath.
From: Patrick Malone
Subject: Fw: Fw: How’s things?
Give the man his due, he was persistent. He had sent the same email three times now, with minor variations. How was New York? How was the flight? Was she OK? He hadn’t heard from her – was something wrong? Could she just reply to this, or better yet call him, so he’d know she was OK? Cassie, could you please just acknowledge this? How are you feeling?
She sighed. How was she feeling? Not ready to talk.
Definitely not ready to confront what had happened at Christmas, or what Patrick might know …
Gently she stroked the touchpad, guiding the cursor to the delete button.
Delete this message?
Hesitating only for a moment, she clicked ‘Yes’.
CHAPTER SIX
C assie took a deep breath. It seemed a daring act of sacrilege just to touch the beautiful inlaid common-room door. The patterns were so intricate, so delicate, she was afraid she might break the wood.
But let’s face it: that wasn’t why she was hesitating. She eyed Ranjit nervously as he stepped forward and placed his hand on the gleaming silver handle.
‘Relax. It’ll be fun,’ he murmured, reaching down with his other hand to take her own. She rolled her eyes and tried to smile. Ranjit turned the handle and the door swung open.
As they walked in, Cassie took a breath. Why had she been expecting the same Parisian common room, with its antiques and dark fabrics, jewelled lamps and glassware? This vast space, only a floor below Sir Alric’s penthouse office, was flooded with light from its glass walls and the frosty blue sky beyond. The leather sofas were clean-lined and ivory-white; the furniture was sleek and minimalist but visibly expensive. Her trainers squeaked on a pale hardwood floor as they crossed the room under stares that ranged from surprised to friendly to violently hostile.
‘Hey, you two!’ Cormac leaped to his feet, and Ayeesha gave them one of her radiant grins. ‘Good to see you both. Come along in and meet the others, Cassie.’
It was extraordinary, she thought, the way
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