At half-past eight, when Marcus had still not come home, she dialled the number of his chambers.
The telephone rang for a long time before he answered it, his voice crisp and slightly impatient. Was it thinking about the past and when she had first known him that caused her heart to lurch with that half-forgotten sensation of pleasure and panic? Eleanor wondered.
‘You’re late,’ she told him. ‘I thought you’d be home by now.’
There was a small, almost sharp pause, alerting her senses, chilling the warm, sensuous anticipation.
‘We’re having a meeting here in chambers,’ Marcus told her tersely. ‘I did tell you, Nell. I shan’t be back until late. We’ve got one or two important things to discuss…’
Eleanor could sense his impatience and irritation. He had said something about a meeting, she remembered guiltily, but she had obviously not registered it properly. She had also, she suspected, interrupted him at a bad moment, to judge from the tone of his voice. She was about to apologise when he continued grimly, ‘Perhaps if you weren’t so wrapped up in other things you might have remembered…’
And then, before she could say a word, he had replaced the receiver.
Slowly Eleanor replaced hers. She was not going to cry, she told herself fiercely. It was a misunderstanding, that was all. They were both adults. They both loved one another. They were both mature and understood that sometimes things were said… things were done… No, she was not going to cry, she repeated tiredly to herself as she lifted her hand to wipe the dampness from her face.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
‘ELEANOR, is that you?’
Eleanor tensed as she heard the pretty, girlish tones of Marcus’s ex-wife’s voice.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Marcus for ages but they keep on telling me he isn’t there. Something about him being in conference with a client. You’d think his own daughter would be more important to him than someone he doesn’t even really know…’ Peevishness was spoiling the girlishness now.
‘Logic is a concept Julia simply doesn’t accept,’ Marcus had once told her, and, listening to her now, Eleanor could understand what he meant.
‘Is something wrong with Vanessa?’ she asked. ‘Is she ill?’
‘Not ill, no. It’s just that I’m going to have to fly out to LA earlier than expected—this weekend in fact, which means that Vanessa will have to come to you and I wanted to tell Marcus that he’d have to pick her up on Friday evening because my flight is early on Saturday morning. I can’t bring her down. She can’t come down on the train. If she’s going to be with you for several months she’ll need…’
‘Several months?’ Eleanor could hear the sharpness of her own voice.
‘Well, Marcus had already agreed to have her for the summer, and now that I’m leaving a few weeks early…’
‘But what about her schooling?’ Eleanor protested.
‘Oh, I’ve explained everything to her headmistress and she’s arranging for her teachers to provide her with some coursework she can do at home. She’ll only be missing a few weeks, after all… what with half-term and then the time she’d have off while they’re preparing the upper classes for their exams. Oh, and by the way, she’ll be bringing a friend with her… just for the week of half-term. Look, I must go, Eleanor, I’ve got a thousand and one things to do before I leave. You won’t forget to tell Marcus about picking Vanessa up, will you?’
* * *
‘She can’t do this to us. You can’t let her,’ Eleanor protested bitterly to Marcus later. ‘I know you agreed we would have her for the summer, but this…’
‘Well, at least the boys won’t be here.’
‘No, but can’t you see how this is going to look to them? They’ll think that they’re being pushed out of the way to make room for Vanessa and her friend. It’s too much, Marcus. I’m way behind with my work and then there’s the house… I’ve had to go down there twice this week already. The architect’s worried that there might be problems with the kitchen conversion… something about the danger of removing too many internal walls, and he thinks the septic tank might be leaking as well. Spring’s now become early summer and we don’t seem to be much further on.’
Tiredly she pushed her hand into her hair, her face tense. ‘I was looking forward to us having this week on our own.’
‘Were you?’ His voice sounded dry. ‘It doesn’t sound as though there would have been much time. Have you heard anything from Louise recently about the winding up of the business?’
‘Only an acknowledgement of my letter setting out the details of my meeting with the agent. I need Louise’s signature on some cheques. At least she’s now given me an address and phone number for the times when she’s away setting things up in France. I’ll have to try and ring her…’ She chewed anxiously on her bottom Up.
‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you get the agent and everyone else to get in touch with Louise direct, instead of shouldering her responsibilities for her? You can’t do everything, Nell, you’re not omnipotent,’ Marcus told her tersely. ‘That way perhaps you and I can have a bit more time for other things.’
Other things? Like looking after his daughter? ‘No,’ she agreed lightly, suppressing her thoughts. ‘If I were omnipotent, the boys wouldn’t end up with so many pairs of odd socks.’
Why was it she felt that his comment was more a criticism than an expression of concern?
‘That’s something else I’ve got to do… pack their stuff for half-term. It’s going to be chaos here on Friday night with four of them.’