At the Greek Tycoon's Bidding

‘Heather? Heather who? Theo never mentioned a Heather to me, but then my son never talks about his girlfriends. I was beginning to think he had none! Or maybe too many…eh?’ She bustled into the apartment and immediately headed for the sofa, where she sat down with a sigh of relief. ‘Come over here, child. Let me see you.’

‘Oh, but you’ve got the wrong—’

‘Shh!’ Theo’s mother placed one finger commandingly over her lips. ‘Humour an old woman who has been praying so long for her son to find a nice girl to settle down with. And this could not have come at a better time for me, my child. Yes. You look plump and well fed.’

‘I’m on a diet…’ Heather mumbled, aghast at the other woman’s misconceptions and determined to set things straight. ‘Well, soon will be…cabbages…soup…I’ll shed pounds…But, you know, I think…Well…I’m sorry to disappoint you…but…’

‘Disappointed? Of course I am not disappointed, my child…!’ The old face suddenly lit up with a smile and Heather helplessly smiled back. ‘Theo likes to think that I am old-fashioned…maybe that is why he did not tell me about you…he thought that I would disapprove of you two living together…’

‘No, Mrs Miquel…’ Heather urgently positioned herself on the sofa, acutely conscious that her state of dress was doing nothing to further the truth. ‘I mean, we are living together…technically…’

‘And, while I am an old woman, I am not that old that I do not realise how times have changed. In my day—well…we did things differently. But that is not to say that I do not understand how young people do things…’ She unexpectedly reached out to cup the side of Heather’s face with her hand. ‘I am just happy that my beloved Theo has found someone, and I can tell you are a kind person. It is in your eyes.’

Heather wondered how kindness could be so easily confused with panic.

‘And you must not call me Mrs Miquel, my child. My name is Litsa.’

‘Theo didn’t say anything about you coming over…’

‘I had hoped to…’ Her face fell into anxious lines of worry. ‘It is best if I explain to him in person…Now, I am tired…perhaps you could call Theo…explain that I am here…?’

‘Of course!’ Since Litsa’s eyelids were fluttering shut, and her strength was clearly sapped, Heather didn’t feel it appropriate to embark on a lengthy explanation of how it was that she came to be occupying Theo’s flat, currently dressed in a bathrobe, and what her real role was. She decided that it was perhaps best to leave that little nugget of disillusionment to Theo.

In the meantime she would escort Litsa to one of the spare rooms, make sure that she was settled into bed, and bring her something to eat—although, after that first outburst of curiosity, she now seemed to have wilted.

Thankfully, the sprawling apartment had several spare bedrooms, two with en suite bathrooms, and Heather showed her to one of these. How she had managed to accomplish a trip to London was a mystery, because she suddenly seemed very fragile, like a piece of china that could be easily broken. She was asleep before Heather had finished removing her jacket and shoes. Making as little noise as possible, she closed the curtains and tucked her underneath the covers.

However, she felt sure that anyone who wasn’t stone deaf would have heard her heart beating like a steam engine.

Her fingers were trembling as she dialled Theo’s mobile phone. He answered immediately, his tone of voice implying that she had interrupted him in the middle of something important. She took a deep breath and spoke quickly, just in case he decided to hang up on her without giving her the benefit of the doubt. When it came to matters of work Theo did not possess a sense of humour. Heather had worked sufficiently with him to have spotted the change that came over him the minute he lost himself in anything to do with his job.

‘What are you talking about?’ he snapped. ‘I can’t understand a word you’re saying.’

‘I’m saying that your mother is here, Theo.’

‘Hold on.’ There was a few seconds of silence, then he was back on the line. ‘Now speak.’

Heather knew that her words were leaping over each other. Several times he had to ask her to slow down. No, she didn’t know why Litsa had shown up…but she was asleep now and he had to drop whatever he was doing and come back to the apartment immediately.

There was nothing Theo hated more than any distraction from work, and right now he was in the middle of a high-level conference, but for the first time he felt something more powerful than the magnetic pull of his work. He felt fear. It fizzed in his blood like acid as he hurtled out of his office, urgently calling his chauffeur to have his car ready and waiting outside.

Typically for Heather, who had never learned the art of economising with her speech, she had babbled on in a confused manner about needing to set his mother straight about something or other, but he had barely heard. His brain had already leapt to possibilities that did not bear thinking about.

His mother never came to London, never mind without any prior warning. To have travelled over without first informing him was unthinkable.

Indeed, Theo could think of no reason why his mother should not have warned him of her arrival. He briefly wondered whether she had, whether he had misfiled the information somewhere in his head, but he immediately discounted that. He forgot nothing—and certainly nothing as important as his mother coming to England.

The car had not quite stopped before he was opening the passenger door and heading towards the apartment block.

He burst through the door of his apartment to find Heather anxiously waiting for him, dressed in her usual garb of leggings and a baggy tee shirt with broad stripes.

‘She’s sound asleep,’ Heather said, leaping to her feet and catching him by the arm before he could storm into the bedroom to ask questions.

His eyes looked wild and she relaxed her hold into something more reassuring. ‘Let me make you some coffee. We need to talk.’

For a few seconds she thought he was going to shrug her hand off and head for the bedroom, but instead he ran his fingers through his hair and nodded.

He watched as she meticulously made some coffee. Along with all the other amazing and under-used high-tech gadgets in his kitchen was a cappuccino maker which he had never learnt to use. Heather, ditzy as she was, had sussed it out in no time, and now she handed him a cup of frothy coffee and sat opposite him at the chrome and glass kitchen table.

‘Is there a problem?’ Theo demanded. ‘My mother never makes unannounced visits to this country so I am assuming that there is. What exactly did she say?’

‘You mean did she tell me why she had come over?’

‘That’s right. Did she?’

Heather shook her head slowly and tried to figure out how to break it to him that his mother had rushed into some pretty horrendous misconceptions. She had tried on the telephone but her words had come out all jumbled, and anyway he hadn’t been listening. Even from the other end of the line she had managed to glean that much.

‘Theo. Is she all right? I mean, physically? She looked a little…frail…’

Theo’s eyes darkened and he leant towards her. ‘Explain.’

‘She just seemed delicate…’

‘And you would have been able to see that all in the space of what…half an hour? Because you’re not actually doing an art course at all? Because you’re actually studying to become a doctor?’ He gave a bark of laughter under which Heather could pick up the strains of fear and her eyes widened sympathetically.

Theo stood up abruptly and pushed his chair back, then he leaned both hands on the table and shot her a hard, cold look. ‘And spare me the compassion. I’m not in the mood for it.’

‘Okay.’ She felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes and bit her lip.

Theo looked at her downbent head and knew that he had been unnecessarily cruel, but the apology he felt obliged to offer refused to come to his lips. Did she have any idea how her passing glib remark had consolidated all the nebulous fears that had been swimming about in his head? He banged his fist on the table and Heather jumped.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

‘Sorry about what?’ Theo snarled back. ‘About offering your opinion when it hasn’t been asked for?’

‘Sorry that you’re scared.’ She met his eyes bravely and was relieved when he at least deigned to sit back down. She had never seen him scared before, had never seen him even close to it. If he wanted to take it out on her, then so be it. Wasn’t that what love was all about? And didn’t she love him?

However, she instinctively knew that dwelling on it wasn’t a good idea, so she gave him a watery smile and sighed.

‘There’s something else,’ she volunteered tentatively. ‘I did try explaining to you on the phone, but I’m not sure you understood what I was trying to say. You know how sometimes I say stuff and it doesn’t come out the way I mean…’

In the face of this prosaic understatement Theo felt some of the tension drain away from him and he smiled grudgingly. ‘I’ve noticed.’