‘Not really. Get Zach Fletcher on the phone for me, will you?’
Tamara knew better than to question him further when he was wearing that particular preoccupied look. She dialled Zach’s number with shaking fingers, her stomach churning sickly while she waited for someone to answer.
Instinctively she had been bracing herself against hearing Zach answer, and hearing Julie’s clear high voice instead was like a shock of icy water. She stammered a little over Zach’s name and almost forgot to explain why she was calling, the omission bringing a chagrined flush to her too pale face, which she was thankful Zach was not there to see. The moment she heard his curt, ‘Fletcher,’ she put the call through to Nigel without speaking. The red light at the base of her phone which indicated that Nigel was still talking seemed to be on for a very long time. Another author arrived for an appointment and when he had been waiting for over ten minutes. Tamara did what she usually did in such circumstances, which was simply to scribble down a message informing Nigel that his appointment had arrived, and walk quietly into his office to place it on his blotter. As she opened the door and walked in she heard Nigel saying bitterly,
‘Look, I take your point, Zach, but I don’t like the way you went over my head. I told you I couldn’t spare Tamara and I meant it. Now I’ve just had half the Board hauling me over the coals this morning for being obstructive.’ He looked up, saw Tamara’s white face, and said quickly into the receiver, ‘Look, I must go now, I’ll speak with you again,’ and then he hung up.
‘Was that true?’ Tamara demanded through dry lips, the original purpose of her intrusion forgotton. ‘Was that why you had to go to that meeting this morning? Because you told Zach I couldn’t work for him?’
‘It was one of the reasons, yes,’ Nigel acknowledged. ‘I’ve let the M.D. read the early chapters and he’s wildly enthusiastic—so enthusiastic in fact that he’s giving Zach the complete kid glove treatment.’
‘You mean …’ Tamara’s voice was a husky disbelieving whisper.
‘No, you don’t have to go and work for him,’ Nigel assured her quickly. ‘I’ve managed to persuade the Board that I can find Zach a perfectly competent secretary without having to do without my own invaluable assistant.’
‘But have you managed to convince Zach?’
Nigel fiddled with his pen. ‘Not yet,’ he admitted, ‘but I will do—now don’t worry about it.’
That was easier said than done. Tamara worried all through the oppressive, sultry day, which ended without the promised thunderstorm, the dying sun turning the sky a dull brassy gold.
The weekend dragged by with no let-up in the weather. Tamara spent Sunday in the park, telling herself that the fresh air would do her good, but she returned to her flat feeling listless and headachy. Ever since she had learned that Zach had tried to force Nigel’s hand she had been wondering whether she ought to give up her job. She had enough money to tide her over well until after the baby’s birth, but her savings wouldn’t last for ever, she reminded herself, and she would be lucky to find another boss as understanding and as flexible as Nigel.
By Monday she was no closer to a decision. Thunder was forecast again, but there had been so many false alarms, and the sky was such a heavy, intense blue that Tamara disregarded it, choosing to wear a pretty pink and white striped sundress with a matching white belt, a short-sleeved cotton jacket adding a touch of formality in keeping with the office while still enabling her to keep cool.
Nigel didn’t arrive until ten o’clock and quite plainly had things on his mind. Tamara busied herself with her own work, a tiny thread of apprehension coiling in the pit of her stomach, and tightening slowly but surely as the day wore on.
At one she went out for her lunch. There was a snack bar not too far from the office which she normally patronised, mainly because it was clean and the service was quick.
Although her appetite had improved recently, today she felt totally unable to face any food. Instead she ordered a glass of milk, telling herself that it would be good for the baby.
It was just after a quarter to two when she walked back into the office, her eyes adjusting from the too bright glare outside to the welcome coolness of her office. The door between her office and Nigel’s was open and she could hear voices coming from it. Frowning, she picked up her diary. Nigel didn’t have any appointments. Just as she was wondering which member of staff was in with him Nigel stopped talking and as clearly as though she had been in the room with them she heard Zach saying forcefully:
‘Okay then, but just tell me one thing. Is it true that she broke off her engagement with Mellors when she got back from the Caribbean?’
Tamara moved from her desk to the door on leaden feet, her whole body trembling with reaction. What was Zach doing here asking questions about her? Did he somehow think he could use the information that she was no longer engaged to Malcolm to force her to work for him?
Before she could close the door and blot out the sound of his voice and its effect on her far too vulnerable senses she heard Nigel saying calmly:
‘That, I think, is Tamara’s business.’
‘And you aren’t going to let her come and work for me?’
‘I’m not going to force her into something she doesn’t want to do,’ Nigel corrected patiently. ‘And before you ask, I have no idea why she doesn’t want to, any more than I know why you appear so adamant that she should.’
‘No?’ The word was loaded with contemptuous disbelief. ‘I suppose it would be naïve to ask what you stand to gain by championing her like this?’
‘If you mean what I think you mean,’ Tamara heard Nigel say evenly, ‘then it would be presumptuous rather than naïve. Tamara is my secretary, and a very good one. She is also a very attractive young woman, more so now than at any time in the past, especially since she’s managed at last to conquer her own lack of self-esteem and liberate the beautiful girl she’s always kept hidden behind a wall of reserve. But as for either of us wanting an affair, you insult us both. I happen to be very happily married—a state I can readily recommend, by the way,’ he added with a note in his voice which puzzled Tamara. ‘And Tamara … Tamara a girl who still believes in love,’ he said obliquely.
Tamara didn’t wait to hear any more. Grabbing her bag, she hurried out of the office, unable to endure the prospect of facing Zach and having him browbeat her into returning to the Cotswolds to act as his secretary.
When she got outside she realised that the afternoon had dulled and that ominous clouds had built up on the horizon. She had told the girl on reception that she was going home because she wasn’t well, and only hoped that Nigel would understand.
As she hurried through the crowded streets towards her bus stop she could hear the menacing roll of thunder clouds, filling the sky at an almost unbelievable speed. Lightning flared as the afternoon turned dark, huge drops of rain darkening the pavement, and the thunder continued to growl, growing ominously closer.
Tamara wasn’t frightened of thunderstorms, but she didn’t find them particularly attractive, especially when she was only wearing a thin dress and jacket. By the time she reached the bus stop it was raining in earnest, a heavy downpour that soaked straight through her jacket.
The bus stop was deserted, and Tamara was just in time to see the bus rolling away from her less than a hundred yards down the road. Defeat rounded her shoulders, and she shivered beneath the damp lash of the rain, wishing for the protection of some sort of shelter, but there was none.