‘I’m staying in the hotel.’
‘Is your husband with you?’
‘Rafe and I were divorced a month ago.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear it.’
‘Are you, Alex?’ she murmured silkily and Miranda picked up an undertone but couldn’t decide what it was.
Turning to the door, Alex said flatly, ‘Excuse me, I have some work to do.’
‘I wanted a word with you, Alex.’ Elena followed him out of the room, letting the door slam.
Pandora sighed. ‘I wish she hadn’t come here! She has no heart, that one.’
Miranda watched her with uneasy sympathy. How much did Pandora know about Elena and Charles? Tentatively, she asked, ‘Is she an old friend of yours?’
‘Friend? No. She was engaged to Alex years ago. Her mother had been at school with mine, the two families wanted them to marry – but then Elena met a very rich American, here on holiday and eloped with him. It hit Alex badly.’
Alex? Not Charles? thought Miranda dazedly.
‘He was only twenty, and I think he was very much in love. You know how love hurts when you’re that age. My mother was really worried about him.’
A stab of jealousy went through Miranda.
‘But he’s over her,’ Pandora ended, not sounding very sure of that.
After their day in the sun and sea wind Miranda was so tired that she had a light supper in her bungalow, just soup and a roll, then went to bed at nine o’clock, and slept deeply, until the early hours of the morning when she woke up from a confused dream, sweating and on edge.
Sandra! The woman on the jetty at Delos, the one in a black hat which half-hid her face, had been Sandra.
If she recognised me, she thought, if she knows Terry and Sean are looking for me, she’ll tell them and they’ll come to get me.
Sandra had obviously noticed her, but had she recognised her? They had only met a couple of times. Sandra might have sensed she was familiar but not been sure exactly who she was. After all, she hadn’t greeted Miranda, hadn’t tried to speak to her, just stared.
Even if she had recognised her, would Terry have told his ex-wife what Sean had done and why he wanted to find Miranda? He wouldn’t want anyone else to know about the murder, surely? And Sandra was not discreet; she couldn’t be trusted to keep her mouth shut. If he told Sandra, she would tell Jack, a
nd out of malice and mischief he would never stop talking about it, the news would spread to all Terry’s old friends and even to his customers. A story like that could do untold damage to the business.
But Sandra was Sean’s mother – he, or Terry, might have told her.
Miranda couldn’t get back to sleep, she was too disturbed, her mind kept chewing over the chances of Sandra ringing Terry to tell him she had seen them.
But knowing that she was here, visiting Delos, wouldn’t help Terry find her. She, like Sandra, could be on a cruise around the Greek islands. He wouldn’t know where to start looking.
Except that Sandra must know Alex. He had been a customer of Terry’s for years. He was a very sexy man, rich, desirable – Sandra wouldn’t have forgotten him. She would have recognised him at Delos, and once Terry knew she had been seen here with Alex he would put two and two together. It wouldn’t take him long to check out Alex’s home in Piraeus. Not finding her there he would look at the hotel. He would know Alex owned it, and that it was merely a short sail away from Delos.
He’ll have me killed, she thought, shutting her eyes in terror. She was starting work this morning. How was she to concentrate when she felt like this?
When she got up next day she saw a pale, haggard face in the mirror. She spent longer than usual on her make-up, trying to create a brighter face, warm foundation, apricot powder, rose lipstick and green shadows on her lids. Surveying her reflection she sighed. Well, she looked a little better.
While she was at her desk printing out letters to possible customers to whom she was sending the hotel brochure Milo came in and smiled. ‘How are you coping?’
‘Fine, thanks. No problems.’
‘I gather you enjoyed your trip to Delos and Mykonos.’
‘Yes, very much, it was kind of Alex to take me.’