Passion & Pleasure. Julia James
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surprise, when he opened the door, Amy was standing at her mother’s side. They were both dressed in shorts and T-shirts, Amy’s hair, which was longer than her mother’s and straighter, caught up in a pony-tail.
‘Hi, Quinn.’
Predictably, it was Amy who spoke first and Matt saw the way Fliss winced at her daughter’s familiarity. But she had evidently decided to put what had happened the day before behind her and her tone was coolly polite as she said, ‘Amy’s got a day’s holiday today. I hoped you wouldn’t mind if she came and played in the garden while I’m working.’
‘No.’ Matt took a step back, silently inviting them inside. ‘I don’t mind at all.’ His eyes moved to the child and he managed a grin. ‘Hello again, Amy. Or are you calling yourself something else today?’
Amy giggled. ‘Well…’ she said thoughtfully, putting a finger against her lips, but her mother intervened.
‘Amy will do,’ she said firmly, stepping inside. She glanced behind her. ‘Don’t go out of the garden, will you, Amy? And if you want anything, come and knock at this door.’
‘She can come and have a drink,’ said Matt, not quite knowing why he’d made the suggestion, but clearly Fliss thought she did.
‘It’s not necessary,’ she said, her cheeks a little pink. ‘I’ll be starting work straight away—’
‘Well, as I’ve just made a pot of coffee, why don’t we all have a drink first?’ suggested Matt drily, and Amy gave him a huge smile.
‘Oh, yes, Mummy. Can we?’
She was obviously eager and Fliss, finding herself outvoted, had little choice but to give in. All the same, Matt noticed that she ignored his offer of a seat and took her coffee standing, her hip firmly wedged against the counter behind her.
And, conversely, he found himself resenting her behaviour. A few moments ago, he hadn’t wanted to open the door to her, and now he was finding her polite detachment hard to take. Dammit, he regretted what had happened just as much as she did. More, probably. And she hadn’t had to contend with erotic dreams that had tormented his sleep and left him feeling strangely off-key.
‘Grandad’s going to make a bigger place for Buttons,’ Amy offered, after Matt had handed her a glass of fizzy lemonade.
‘An enclosure,’ corrected Fliss and Amy nodded.
‘Yes. A “closure.”’ She glanced about her. ‘Do you have a straw?’
‘Amy!’
Fliss was impatient, but Matt was grateful to the child for lightening the mood. ‘Sorry,’ he said, pulling a wry face. ‘But I’ll be sure and have some for next time.’
Amy beamed. ‘Colonel Phillips used to buy straws just for me,’ she said proudly. ‘Did you know Colonel Phillips? He was very old.’
‘Amy,’ Fliss said again, but Matt was happy to continue the conversation. At least with Amy there were no undercurrents; no suspicion that Fliss had only agreed to stay to prove something to herself.
‘No, I didn’t know Colonel Phillips,’ he said, wishing Fliss would sit down so he could do the same. He could feel an ache in his lumbar region, which he guessed was the result of the fall he’d taken the day before. ‘He was gone before I bought the house.’ He paused. ‘Did he let you come here with your Mummy, too?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Amy spoke airily. ‘He used to like me to come and play games with him. Board games, I mean. Draughts and ludo, that sort of thing. Oh, and he had boxes and boxes of coins and stuff. I used to like looking at them.’
‘I bet.’ Matt’s eyes moved thoughtfully to Fliss’s solemn face and then away again. What was she thinking? he wondered. That he was using the child to find out more about her? He considered. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any coins, but I do have lots of books that need sorting out. How would you like to help me this morning? We could sort them out together.’
‘It’s a fine morning,’ said Fliss at once. ‘Amy will be happy enough in the garden. You don’t have to entertain her, Mr Quinn.’
‘I know I don’t,’ said Matt, and, seeing the little girl’s disappointed face, he couldn’t help responding to it. ‘But I mean it. Amy can help me. You saw how many boxes of books there are.’
‘I’m a good reader,’ put in Amy at once. ‘Mrs Hill says I’m the best reader in my class.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Matt, with a rueful grin at Fliss. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
Fliss allowed a sigh to escape her. ‘I—of course I don’t mind, but—’
‘That’s settled, then,’ said Matt, and, deciding there was no point in being proud, he sank gratefully into a chair at the table. ‘I’ll be glad of her help, and if she gets bored she can always go outside.’
‘I won’t get bored,’ declared Amy, but Matt could see that Fliss still had her doubts.
‘If you need help…’ she began, but he shook his head.
‘She’ll be good company,’ he assured her. If only because she would stop him from dwelling on other things. ‘We’ll be fine.’
‘Well, it’s very kind of you,’ Fliss said awkwardly, and he glimpsed a trace of empathy at last. She finished her coffee and put down her cup. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’ She bent and gave Amy a kiss. ‘You be good now,’ she added. ‘And don’t get in Mr Quinn’s way.’
The morning passed remarkably quickly. Matt hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said that Amy would be good company. She was. She liked to talk. She chattered on about everything, from school and her family to what she’d watched on television the night before. And he discovered she wasn’t at all inhibited about the fact that she didn’t know her father.
‘He went away before I was born,’ she said matter-of-factly, spilling books, that Matt had just sorted into categories, over his desk. ‘Where do you want me to put these?’
‘Oh—just leave them where they are,’ said Matt resignedly, beginning to sort them all over again. ‘You open that box over there. You might find something interesting in it.’
Amy went to squat beside the box he’d indicated, and Matt wondered if she’d say any more about her father. But she didn’t. Instead, she used the scissors to cut the string that bound the box, and then hauled out the first of the photograph albums that were inside.
‘Is this yours?’ she asked, and Matt nodded.
‘It’s a kind of picture record of the different stories I used to report for Thames Valley News,’ he explained. ‘I thought you might find it more interesting than all these reference books.’
Amy’s eyes widened. ‘Did you used to work on television?’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh, wow! That’s so cool.’
‘It was just a job,’ said Matt modestly, finding her innocent admiration much more appealing than the insincere flattery he’d received from various quarters since he’d got back. All the same, he didn’t deserve it, and to divert her he bent and pointed to a man pictured in one of the stills. ‘Did you know he used to be the President of Abuqara?’
Amy stared. ‘Have you met him?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Matt’s jaw tightened and he wondered why he’d bothered to bring Abraham Adil to her attention. ‘That was why I was in Abuqara. To report on the rebellion that was trying to get rid of his administration.’
‘And did they?’ Amy asked, her interest as innocent as her praise, and Matt sighed.
‘Get rid of the government?’ And after a quick nod of assent, ‘Eventually.’ He pulled a face. ‘Unfortunately, the new government is likely to be just as corrupt.’
‘Corrupt?’