Deborah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘You’re the one who went ahead and booked the holiday,’ she reminded him.
‘And you’re the one who decided that you were going to work—without consulting me. Just tell me something, Deborah. What am I supposed to do while you’re working?’
Deborah stared at him, baffled.
‘It’s a bank holiday weekend,’ Mark reminded her forcefully. ‘A time for people to spend together, relaxing, enjoying themselves. Oh, but I forgot,’ he added sarcastically. ‘You’re already enjoying yourself—with your work. Well, forgive me if I can’t pretend to be getting the same satisfaction out of mine. It may have escaped your notice, since you’re obviously far too busy these days to notice such things, but it isn’t the greatest mental stimulation in the world sitting in front of an empty desk five days a week.’
‘Oh, Mark, for goodness’ sake stop exaggerating. Your desk isn’t empty.’
‘Damn near—but that isn’t the point. Nothing else matters to you apart from your work, does it, Deborah? Everything… everyone has to fit in around your precious career. How the hell do you think I feel, sitting here night after night while you’re working late, being told to turn down the television so you can work, being treated as though I’m some kind of sub-standard human being because I don’t measure up to you professionally?’
‘That’s not fair,’ Deborah protested. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing any of this,’ she added wearily. ‘I thought you understood… I thought we had an agreement. I can’t believe this is really you I’m listening to, Mark… what is it exactly that you’re trying to say? That you expect me to back-pedal on my career because yours isn’t going well?’
Mark tensed as he caught the angry contempt in her voice.
‘No, of course not,’ he denied. ‘It’s just… Look, I know how much this promotion means to you, but you’ve got to admit that it hasn’t exactly come at a good time for me…’
‘For you?’ Deborah’s eyes rounded. ‘But this is my career we’re talking about… what is it you want from me, Mark? Am I supposed to pretend that I don’t want it… that I’m not thrilled about it…?’
‘No, of course not…’ Irritation and guilt mingled inside him. ‘It’s just that you might try to be a little less self-obsessed about it, to remember that there are other things in life. Is Ryan planning to work this weekend as well?’
His question caught her off guard, her face flushing even though she assured herself she had nothing to feel guilty about.
‘I don’t know… He may do… He ha
sn’t said so… Just that he wants to make sure that I’m really on top of everything.
‘The bank is a major client,’ she pointed out defensively when she saw the way he was looking at her. ‘Mark, you know how important this promotion is to me… Ryan’s already beginning to make noises about having to defend his choice of me for the case to the other partners… I don’t want to let him down.’
‘No? Why not? You sure as hell don’t seem to mind letting me down.’
Deborah froze. ‘That’s unfair,’ she told him angrily. ‘And I could make the same accusation of you. After all, you’ve hardly been supportive recently, have you? I’m beginning to wonder if Ryan’s right when he says that you’re jealous of me——’
She stopped abruptly, cursing herself under her breath as she realised she had said too much.
‘Mark,’ she protested as she saw his face.
‘Forget it,’ he told her bitingly as he turned around. ‘Forget the whole damned thing. You go and get on with your precious work, Deborah… I’ll spend my weekend painting the flat. Who knows—I might get quite a kick out of it… it will certainly be a damn sight better than spending the weekend in a foursome with bloody Ryan and your fucking work. The four of us just wouldn’t get in that double bed together…’
He was behaving childishly and he must know it, Deborah told herself. Her own anger was a tight, hard ball of resentment clogging up her throat, her eyes already stinging threateningly with over-emotional tears.
She hated quarrels and arguments—she always had; and she and Mark never normally quarrelled—or at least they never used to.
Mark’s bitterness and anger had caught her completely off guard, the accusations which had spilled from him as they’d quarrelled so unlike him that she could hardly believe he had actually voiced them.
Well, one thing was certain now. There was no way she could give her work the concentration it needed with this hanging over her. Perhaps it would do them good to get away for a few days; to sit down and talk things over rationally. She knew how upset Mark was about his job but she had never dreamed that he might actually resent her success.
Listening to him just now, it had almost been as though he was trying to claim that he felt he was in some kind of competition with her with her work and yet the two aspects of her life were completely different and separate issues.
When she walked into their bedroom he was standing in front of the window staring out of it. He didn’t turn round until she touched him. He looked pale and tense. His grey eyes were shadowed instead of warm with laughter, she noticed guiltily. How long was it since they had last laughed together? It had been his sense of humour that had first drawn her to him. And, as with his warmth and gentleness, she had felt able to respond to it and to him without fearing that she was in any way putting herself under his control.
‘Perhaps a few days away would be a good idea,’ she told him quietly. ‘We obviously need to talk…’
Beneath her arm she could feel the stiff resistance in his body. What more did he expect from her? she wondered angrily. Not, surely, an apology… For what? She had done nothing that he would not have done and felt he had every right to do had their positions been reversed.
It hurt her that he should reveal this unwanted side of himself to her; she had thought him above that petty need to have his ego nurtured and massaged which she despised in so many other men.
* * *