Never A Bride. Diana Hamilton
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else’, and that was typical of the type of man he was. Claire pushed him quickly out of her mind and the wall-mounted phone rang.
She was already—more or less successfully—thinking of her marriage in the past tense so when she realised Emma was talking to Jake the shock made her stomach curl up in a ball and turn to ice. And they were obviously talking about her, because Emma was saying, ‘No. Only to do some Christmas shopping. She borrowed one of the cars and took off for the day.’
Claire watched the puzzled frown gather between her sister-in-law’s eyes and just knew he was checking up on her. He was still suspicious about the phone call he’d interrupted, and that made her coldly angry because who was he to poke and pry into her affairs when his was splashed all over the papers? He would want their marriage to end when the time was right for him. He wouldn’t want her jumping the gun, painting him in the guise of a cuckolded husband!
‘Of course I didn’t go with her,’ Emma was saying, running out of patience. ‘I always get mine done early, you know that. No. No— Look, she’s right here; ask her yourself.’
She handed Claire the receiver with an upward hunch of her shoulders and Claire managed coolly, ‘Ask me what?’
The tiny ensuing silence was electrifying and, for no reason that she could fathom, her heart began to beat like a drum gone out of control; then cold anger took over as he told her without an atom of shame, ‘Just checking up on how my wife spends her time. Get all your shopping done, did you? Or perhaps you forgot something vital? Find you have to spend yet another day in town?’
If theirs had been a normal marriage she would have thought he was harboring deep suspicions, half believing she was seeing someone else, was blisteringly jealous. As it was, she knew he was simply anxious not to be made to look a fool.
She hated it when they were like this together. Up until his return from Rome they had got along fine, becoming really close companions. Squashing the impulse to reassure him, because getting back on to a best friends footing again would only make the inevitable break-up much more difficult, she gushed, ‘Now however did you guess? Such a bore! Was there anything else you wanted to check up on, or can I go? My coffee’s getting cold.’
‘No, you may not go.’ The tone of his voice set all the nerves in her body on edge. It was the tone she had heard him use when dealing out reprimands to underlings who had earned his displeasure. He had never used it to her before. And now that clipped, arrogant voice was telling her, ‘I’m buying a property in Have ling. The agent will deliver the keys to you in the morning. As soon as he does, I want you to drive over there and wait for me. I should arrive around lunchtime. Got that?’
She answered, ‘Yes,’ but was talking to silence. Her face went red. He’d put the phone down, just like that! How dared he treat her as if she were a mere employee he’d suddenly lost patience with?
But an employee was all she was, all she had ever been, she reminded herself with a swift return to rationality, and maybe the brisk arrogance he’d used on her for the very first time was his way of easing them apart, phasing out the strange but special relationship they’d had.
‘What was that all about?’ Emma wanted to know. ‘I’ve never heard him so snappy—someone been giving him a bad time?’ She was cutting fruit cake and suddenly looked deadly serious. ‘You? Before he left he asked me to keep an eye on you,’ she went on slowly, as if thinking things out and not liking the conclusions she was reaching. ‘He said he was worried about you. You’d got overtired, I must make sure you had plenty of rest and didn’t go racketing round on your own. But just then he sounded on edge, as if there was a lot more to it than that. Is there?’
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