‘Yes, he does.’
‘So he’s been paying for mine all this time, as well?’
Jennie looked awkward. ‘He’d hate you to make a big deal out of it. It was starting to look tatty and he asked the gardener to keep it looking neat, that’s all.’
Shelley shook her head. ‘No, that’s not all. He’s done more than that—it looks almost as good as when my mother was alive.’ She sighed. If only he didn’t have so many good points—like that streak of innate thoughtfulness which used to have her mother and her friends eating out of his hands.
‘He must be doing well,’ she observed slowly. ‘To be able to afford to do all this for you. Money was tight when we were together.’
‘That’s one of the reasons you left him, isn’t it?’
Shelley gave her a steady look. ‘Is that what you think?’
Jennie shrugged. ‘What were we supposed to think? You left him for a very rich man. A man you didn’t really know. So obviously that was the first thing which sprang to mind.’
‘Did everyone else think that, too?’
‘Pretty much. Shall I pour you some tea?’
‘Please.’
Jennie handed over a steaming mug and fixed Shelley with a curious look. ‘But now you’re back.’
‘Yep.’ Steam wafted up her nostrils. She waited for the inevitable question.
‘Why?’
‘That depends who wants to know—you or your brother?’
‘I suspect that Drew’s need to know is greater than mine,’ said Jennie drily. ‘But most other people will be curious once they find out you’re back. You know what this place can be like.’
Yes, she knew. But despite the cloying drawbacks of a small town she knew something else, too, something which came straight from the heart. ‘I’ve come back because it’s my home,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s the first place I thought of.’
Jennie looked at her shrewdly. ‘I thought that home was an apartment in Milan and a villa on Lake Garda?’
The details were much too precise to masquerade as casual gossip. ‘Who on earth told you that?’
‘Drew did. Soon after you’d gone.’
‘Drew? I didn’t realise he knew. My mother must have told him, I suppose.’
Jennie shrugged. ‘Even if she hadn’t he would have found out anyway. Like he always says—knowledge is power.’
‘Does he?’ It sounded more like something Marco would say. ‘I never heard him say anything like that before.’
‘No, well…’ Jennie looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘Yes.’ Shelley leaned back and noticed the plastic box full of toys stuffed behind one of the sofas. And the sense of something being different which had struck her as she’d first entered at last began to make sense. ‘You’ve got a child living here, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, I have. A baby, actually. My baby!’ Jennie smiled with maternal pride. ‘You saw the toys in the box?’
‘Yes, I did, and the photo on the bureau. But I noticed something different when I first walked in. The place had that air that all houses with children in them have—of everything being tidied away while the baby’s asleep! I could always tell which of Marco’s friends had children and which didn’t,’ she added.
‘Didn’t he want any children of his own?’
‘Not when I was with him,’ answered Shelley truthfully.
‘I see.’ Jennie reached out for a biscuit, then changed her mind. ‘I’ve put on too much weight recently.’
‘Well, if you’ve just had a baby…’
‘That’s no excuse.’
‘I suppose not.’ Shelley reached for a biscuit and, meeting Jennie’s eyes, shrugged. ‘Your brother thinks that I could do with gaining a few pounds.’
‘Well, you are terribly thin.’ Jennie’s stare was hard and bright. ‘So is Marco off the scene for good?’ she asked suddenly.
Shelley laughed, oddly refreshed by her candour. ‘That’s a bit of a jump from discussing babies and waist-lines!’
‘Is it? I thought Marco was the love of your life. And if that was the case, didn’t you want his baby?’
This question rocked her. Its intimacy jangled at her raw nerves and Shelley was acutely aware that anything she told Jennie would get straight back to Drew. And if she told the truth, wouldn’t that damn her even more in their eyes? ‘I’d rather not talk about Marco, if you don’t mind. Tell me about your baby instead.’
Jennie beamed. ‘She’s eight months old and the most adorable child on the planet,’ she said, getting up and taking a photo album from the sideboard. She handed it to Shelley. ‘Although I recognise that I might be a little biased!’