The Rinucci Brothers. Lucy Gordon
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the doorway made her jump.
There was no doubt of the identity of the man standing there. If the hint of russet in his dark brown hair hadn’t proclaimed him Mark’s father she would still have known him from Debra’s description.
Pride and assurance personified, she thought. Everything under control. And when it wasn’t he hit the roof.
His lean face was set in harsh lines that looked dangerously permanent and there was a ferocity in his eyes that she refused to let intimidate her.
‘I’m Miss Wharton,’ she said, determinedly pleasant. ‘I teach languages at Mark’s school.’
He made a wry face. ‘Really!’
‘Yes, really,’ she said, nettled.
‘Dressed like that?’
She looked down at her colourful outfit and shrugged.
‘A verb conjugates exactly the same, however I’m dressed, Mr Dane.’
‘You look like some crazy student.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, giving him her best smile. She knew he hadn’t meant a compliment but she couldn’t resist riling him. ‘At my age that’s a really nice thing to hear.’
‘I wasn’t flattering you.’
‘You amaze me. I’d assumed you went through life winning hearts with your diplomacy.’
There was a flicker in his eyes that suggested uncertainty. Was she, or wasn’t she, daring to mock him?
Let him wonder, she thought.
‘How old are you?’ he demanded.
‘Old enough not to tolerate being barked at.’
‘All right, all right,’ he said in the voice of a man making a concession. ‘Maybe I was hasty. We’ll start again.’
She stared at him in fascination. This man was so lacking in social skills that he was almost entertaining.
‘I suppose that’s as much of an apology as I’m going to get,’ she observed.
‘It wasn’t meant as an apology. I’m not used to coming home and finding myself under investigation by strangers.’
‘Investigation?’
‘It’s a politer word than spying. Are you here to report back to the social services? If so, tell them that my son has a good home and doesn’t need anyone’s interference.’
‘I’m not sure I could say that,’ she replied quietly.
‘What?’
‘Is this a good home? You tell me. What I’ve seen so far looks pretty bleak. Oh, it’s comfortable enough, plenty of money spent. But after all, what’s money?’
Now it was his turn to be fascinated. ‘Some people think money amounts to quite a lot.’
‘Not if it’s all you have.’
‘And you feel entitled to make that judgement, do you?’
‘Why not? At least I looked at the whole room. You judged me on the basis of my clothes and my age.’
‘I told you, I’ve drawn a line under that,’ he said impatiently.
‘But maybe I haven’t,’ she said, incensed again. ‘And maybe I stand on my right to jump to conclusions, just like you.’
She knew she was treading on thin ice, but what the hell? She was usually slow to anger, but there was something about this man that made her want to be unreasonable. In fact, there was something about him that made her want to jump up and down on his head.
He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘This is getting us nowhere. What are you doing in my house?’
House, she noticed. Not home. Well, he was right about that.
‘I gave Mark a lift.’
‘Riding that contraption outside?’
‘No,’ she shot back. ‘I rode it while he ran behind—’ She checked herself. This was no time for sarcasm. ‘Of course. He rode pillion.’
‘Did he have a helmet?’
‘Yes, I gave him mine.’
‘So you rode without one?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which is against the law.’
‘I’m aware of that, but what else could I do? Leave him there? The point is, his head was safe.’
‘But yours wasn’t.’
‘I’m overwhelmed by your concern,’ she snapped.
‘My concern,’ he snapped back, ‘is for my son if you’d been stopped by the police while in breach of the law.’
Evie ground her teeth but wouldn’t risk answering. He had a point. An unfair point, but still a point.
‘And why were you giving him a lift anyway? Do you normally bring your pupils home from school?’
‘I didn’t bring him home from school. He played truant today, not for the first time.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard about his behaviour before this.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I went to the school and talked with the Deputy Head.’
‘No, I mean what did you do when you got home? Did you talk to Mark?’
‘Of course I did. I told him to behave himself or there’d be trouble. I gather he didn’t listen. All right, leave it to me. I’ll deal with him.’
She stared, aghast.
‘And just what do you mean by that?’ she demanded.
‘I mean I’ll make sure he knows the consequences of disobeying me again. Isn’t that what you came here for?’
‘No!’
Evie spoke so loudly and emphatically that he was actually startled.
‘That is not what I came here for,’ she said firmly. ‘That boy is very unhappy, and I’m trying to find out why. I hadn’t been here five minutes before I could see the reason. Heavens, what a place!’
‘What’s the matter with it?’ he demanded.
‘It’s like a museum. Full of things, but actually empty.’
He looked around at the expensive furnishing, then back at her. He was totally baffled.
‘You call this empty?’
‘It’s empty of everything that matters—warmth, parents to greet him when he comes home.’
‘His mother is dead,’ Justin Dane said in a hard voice.
‘She’s worse than dead, Mr Dane. She’s missing. Where are the pictures of her?’
‘After what she did, I saw no need to keep them, much less put them on display.’
‘But what about Mark? What would he have liked?’
She heard his sharp intake of breath before he said, ‘You’re trespassing on matters that do not concern you.’
‘You’re wrong,’ she said firmly. ‘I am Mark’s teacher and I’m concerned about his welfare. Anything about him concerns me, especially his suffering.’
‘What do you know about his suffering?’
‘Only what he’s trying to tell me without words. I rely on you to tell me the rest. What exactly did she do that entitles you to airbrush her out of existence?’