‘I lied when I told you that Dad had lost his job,’ Harriet went on. ‘He never did. He always earned a good salary. But Mum and I never saw any of it. So, once I was old enough to get a job or three, I did so.’ A small, very bitter smile curved her mouth. ‘Naturally, Dad was furious when I refused to hand over any of my salaries.’
‘He didn’t hit you, did he?’ Alex despised men who hit women.
‘No. He wasn’t a physically violent man, just verbally and emotionally abusive. I hated him.’
‘Understandable. So I’m presuming you didn’t have your parents’ approval when you came to Sydney to pursue a career in real estate?’
‘They had absolutely no idea of my plans. But I always knew what I was going to do. First, I saved up for a car. Not a new car, of course. But not bad, either. I also secretly went to college at night, doing an advanced computer course as well as getting my real-estate licence. Then, as soon as I turned twenty, I left home and drove the two hundred kilometres to Sydney.’
‘That was brave of you,’ he said, admiring her enormously.
‘I didn’t see it that way. I just knew I had to leave home and make a life for myself. I had enough money saved to survive for a few weeks till I got a job. And I booked into a backpackers’ lodge till then as it was relatively cheap.’
‘Did you tell your parents you were going or did you just up and leave?’
‘Mum knew I was going, but Dad was at work when I left. I did ring home to tell Mum I’d arrived safely, but Dad answered and promptly disowned me, saying I was ungrateful and that he didn’t want to set eyes on me ever again.’
‘You’re right. He is a pig. I hope you told him where to go.’
‘I did indeed. In no uncertain terms. Then when I asked to speak to my mother, he hung up. I did ring again the next day when I knew he’d be at work, but Mum also hung up on me.’
Her sad sigh was very telling. ‘Clearly, she’d been ordered not to talk to me, and she was too scared to defy him. I’d hoped I might be able to persuade her to leave him, but I soon saw that was never going to happen. I knew from that moment on that I was on my own. My life would be what I made it. No one was going to help me.’
Alex was beginning to understand exactly where that checklist had come from. It went a long way back.
‘Well, you’ve done a very good job,’ he complimented her. ‘I was seriously impressed when I read your résumé, working your way up from being a receptionist to getting a job in sales. Not for any old company, either. For one of Sydney’s top realtors. Frankly, I was a bit surprised when you applied for the job as my PA. You probably could have made more money staying in sales.’
‘Life isn’t all about money, Alex.’
‘It’s still nice to have it,’ he replied.
‘True. Right, we’re nearly there. I suggest you just let me off outside my place, Alex. There’ll be no parking in my street on a Sunday afternoon.’
She was right. There wasn’t. ‘Are you absolutely sure you have to go home?’ he tried one last time. ‘I could always turn around and take you back to my place for the night.’
‘Alex, just stop it,’ she said firmly. ‘If I’m going to Italy with you on Tuesday, I have lots of things to do.’
‘Give me a kiss before you go.’
She laughed. ‘Good try, Alex.’ And she was out of the car like a shot, leaning in to grab her overnight bag before waving and running inside.
Alex just sat there for a long moment, then drove slowly back to his place, feeling more alone than he ever had in his life before. Once there, he wandered around like a lost sheep for a while till in desperation he rang Sergio and talked for a good twenty minutes, unlike his previous congratulatory call, which had been rather brief. By the time he hung up, Alex saw what Jeremy meant about their friend being genuinely in love with Bella. He was utterly obsessed with the woman, unable to form a sentence without her name being in it. Alex hoped like hell that Sergio’s love was returned. Falling that deeply in love could be dangerous enough. Even worse if it was one-sided.
Seeking more reassurance on the matter, he rang Jeremy, who clearly didn’t appreciate being woken on a Sunday morning before noon.
‘Alex,’ he growled. ‘Do you know what time it is?’
‘I guess that depends on where you are. London or Lake Como?’
‘Neither. I’m in Paris.’
‘What are you doing in Paris?’
‘What do you think I’m doing in Paris? Go back to sleep, mon amie,’ he murmured to whoever was in bed beside him. ‘So what drama is unfolding in your life that you feel you have to call me at this ungodly hour? It had better be life threatening, or you’re a dead man.’