‘When she remembers,’ he said with brutal truth ‘Then she tries to cram a year’s worth of nagging into three days.’
Zoe gave a choke of laughter. ‘Do you want me to change the locks?’
‘No, but—don’t persuade her to come back if she wants to stay with Aunt Liz,’ he said in a rush.
‘Harry—are you really worried about these exams?’ she asked seriously.
‘No.’ He was matter-of-fact. ‘I’ve done the work and I’ve got the brain. But everyone at school is going a bit mad. I need to stay focused and not get in a flap. And mother flaps me.’
She thought about that. ‘You mean minimal fuss, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So if I get a job which means I have to leave the house before you go off to school in the morning, that wouldn’t bother you?’
He was surprised. ‘’Course not.’
‘So what do you want to make these next few weeks least stressful?’
‘Regular meals and no one crowding me,’ said Harry promptly.
It was like being let off a major task. Zoe laughed and ruffled his hair.
‘You’ve got it.’
And she would be at Culp and Christopher so early she would make the Mogul Prince’s eyes spin in his head, she promised herself. This summer was going to be fun.
Jay Christopher snapped awake as he always did, instantly alert. He was alone in the mussed Sunday-afternoon bed. Surprised, he came up on one elbow, looking round.
The room was full of dusty sunshine, but the shadows were longer than he’d expected. The summer afternoon was hot and very still. There was not so much as a tweet from the birds in the tall trees outside, although all the windows were open to the air.
The woman was standing at the open French window. She had thrown a blue kimono over her nakedness. He had brought it back from Japan for her at Christmas. They had only just started seeing each other then. She had been delighted, dancing round the room, laughing.
She was not dancing now. She turned and stood there, watching him levelly.
Jay’s heart sank. Here we go again, he thought. Why are you like this? Are you commitment-phobic? What do I have to do to make you love me?
He looked at his watch. It was the only thing he was wearing.
‘Time I was on my way back.’
The woman’s eyes flickered. He braced himself.
But all she did was pull the kimono round her and say quietly, ‘Yes, of course.’
He drew a sigh of relief. He liked Carla. He never told her lies. He had been faithful ever since they’d got together. And he was always honest about how little he was committed; how far he was from being able to commit.
She had always said that was enough. But lately it had not seemed enough any more. Some of their recent goodbyes had been positively scratchy. He had been here before. It was beginning to look as if it was time to move on.
Jay knew himself very well. He was not going to change. And Carla was too nice to hurt. The last couple of times he had left she had had that taut, holding-in look that he dreaded seeing on a woman’s face. He knew it meant they were being brave, and he hated it.
But now she went and sat on the dressing stool and brushed her dark hair, chatting cheerfully through the bathroom door while he showered.
‘Heavy week?’
‘The usual.’ Jay rootled through the bathroom cupboard for unscented shampoo. Ever since Carla had found that he did not like to use her lavender-scented stuff she had stocked up on an alternative. ‘At least I’ve got rid of the troublemaker. New girl starts on Monday.’
He turned on the shower and got under it.
Carla knew about the troublemaker. She had even held hands with him fondly, all through an office party, hoping that it would discourage the girl’s patent crush before any harm was done. It had not worked, but they had been friends then, united in their kindly conspiracy.
‘Was it difficult?’
Jay soaped his hair viciously. ‘She cried.’
‘Poor Jay. That’s bad.’
‘You’re laughing at me,’ he said, pleased.
But her voice was odd. ‘No. I’m laughing at me.’
He did not like the sound of that. He rinsed off his hair, the brief flare of hope dying. He stuck his head out of the bathroom door and she passed him his discarded underwear.