Here Comes The Bride

Jessica Hart

CHAPTER ONE

‘COME on, Mum…we’re going to be late!’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming…’ Nell scrabbled feverishly through her bag, checking to see that she had everything she needed. She had been so forgetful recently, and it had all been such a rush this morning that if she wasn’t careful she would have to go to the meeting this afternoon without any make-up on, and that was the last thing her confidence needed right now.

Ah, there was her comb. At least she’d be able to do something about her hair when she got to the office. Now, where was her cosmetic bag? Had she left it in the bathroom after all?

‘Mu-um…’ sighed Clara.

‘I’ve got to get myself a decent bag,’ Nell muttered to herself. ‘I can’t find anything in here… Oh!’

She broke off in consternation as the bag slipped from her grasp and landed with a splat on the doorstep, spilling keys and pens and tissues and lipsticks and the odd coins that always seemed to be lurking in its depths onto the path.

Clara bent to help pick them all up. ‘Mum, what is the matter with you at the moment?’ she asked, ten going on forty-five. Anyone would think that she was the mother, and Nell her awkward child. ‘You’re not usually this muddled.’

‘I’m not that bad, am I?’ asked Nell absently, shoving everything back into her bag. There was that compact mirror she had been looking for everywhere.

‘You lost your keys the other day.’

‘That could happen to anybody,’ Nell protested as they headed down the pavement at last.

‘And when you came to pick me up at Charlotte’s the other day, you went to the wrong house although you’ve been there millions of times.’

‘The doors were the same colour.’ Nell tried to defend herself, but Clara hadn’t finished.

‘And you forgot that Sophie was coming last Saturday.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised before Clara could come up with any more examples of what a bad mother she was.

Her daughter was right, though. She wasn’t usually this vague. ‘There just seems to be a lot to think about at the moment,’ she tried to explain. ‘I’m not really settled into my new job yet.’

It was true that moving jobs had been more stressful than she had imagined, but that wasn’t the real reason she was so unsettled at the moment, was it? Deep down, Nell knew that what had really thrown her was being reminded about P.J. after all these years.

It was all Thea’s fault. Nothing had been the same since she had got in touch with P.J.’s sister on some internet site. There was no need for people to go contacting old school friends, Nell thought crossly as she waited with Clara at the lights. It just made you remember all the things you had tried so hard to forget for the last sixteen years.

P.J. was part of her past. He had gone to the States, she had stayed here. They had both moved on. She hadn’t thought of him for years. Well, not very often, anyway.

Sometimes she didn’t think of him for weeks at a time.

But now he was back.

‘Guess who’s back in town?’ Thea had said, bursting with news, and Nell had been taken aback at the way her heart had clenched at the sound of his name.

‘Janey says he’s been incredibly successful,’ Thea told her. ‘Something to do with electronics. We should have known. He always was a bit geeky, wasn’t he?’

‘He wasn’t geeky,’ Nell objected, annoyed. ‘People just used to say that because he was clever.’ She defended him, just as she had all those years ago.

‘I wish we’d known just how clever,’ said Thea. ‘It’s a pity you didn’t stick with him, Nell. According to Janey, he’s practically a billionaire now.’

P.J., a billionaire? Nell couldn’t get her head round the idea. In her mind he was still the P.J. she had loved, a bit gawky, very young and very lanky, with that thin, intelligent face and the unexpected smile. The thought of him as a thrusting tycoon was vaguely unsettling. It didn’t fit with her image of him at all. She had always pictured him as a scientist rather than a businessman.

But then, she had never imagined that she would become a struggling single mother, either.

‘Janey says that he’s not with anyone at the moment,’ Thea went on, oh so casually. ‘You should get in touch.’

‘That would look subtle, wouldn’t it?’ Nell said sarcastically. ‘Hi, P.J., I haven’t been in touch for sixteen years, but I’ve just heard that you’re incredibly rich, so I wondered if you fancied meeting up?’

‘You could say that you’d just heard that he was back in London,’ Thea suggested. ‘You wouldn’t need to mention the rich bit.’

‘No, and of course P.J. would never guess that I knew that he had all that money, him being so stupid and all!’

Thea sighed. ‘It wouldn’t be like that with P.J. It’s not as if you’d be a remote acquaintance coming out of the woodwork. You were engaged once, after all.’

‘That just makes it worse!’ said Nell, recoiling from the very idea.

Her sister looked at her speculatively. ‘It’s a shame. You two were always good together. Still, maybe Janey will tell him that you’re divorced, and he’ll get in touch with you.’

Nell doubted it very much. P.J. had been nicer about Simon than she deserved, but no one liked being rejected, and presumably now that he had made his millions he had no trouble finding a girlfriend.

Good luck to him, she thought. He deserved his success, but his life and hers were worlds apart now. It was nice to know that he was well and successful, but there was no point in thinking about him anymore, she decided. She would put him out of her mind completely.

Absorbed in her thoughts, Nell didn’t realise that the green man was beeping at the lights until Clara dug her in the ribs. ‘Wake up, Mum!’

Nell started, and let her daughter bustle her across the road. Really, she must pull herself together. She was supposed to be looking after Clara, not the other way round.

Clara was eyeing her thoughtfully as they turned down a side street. They had walked to school so many times now that they followed the route automatically. Nell was sure that she could do it in her sleep.

‘Are you nervous about your date tonight?’

Nell sighed. She had been so busy thinking about P.J. that she had forgotten all about her blind date. ‘I wish I’d never agreed to go,’ she grumbled. ‘I don’t know why I let you and Thea bully me into these things!’

‘It would be nice for you to have a boyfriend.’

‘Clara, I’m thirty-seven! I’m too old for boyfriends.’

‘You’re not,’ said Clara loyally. ‘You’re not much older than Thea, and she’s just got married.’

That was unarguable. Her sister had been thirty-four when she’d met Rhys, and ready to give up on ever finding the right man for her.

‘Sometimes you just have to wait for fate to put the right person your way,’ said Nell, thinking that fate had done the best it could twenty-one years ago. It wasn’t fate’s fault that she had been too young and too silly to recognise the right person for her.

Not for the first time she wished that her daughter weren’t quite so interested in adult relationships. It was hard to explain some of the complexities to a ten-year-old, but from a very small child Clara had been fascinated by people and why they behaved the way they did.

She had been hardly more than a baby when her father had left, and took having divorced parents in her stride, but Nell really wanted to give her the example of a loving relationship, so that she could see that it was possible for adults to live together and be happy. That was the main reason why she had let Thea talk her into making an effort to meet men again, but so far her blind dates had not been a success, to say the least.

There had been Neil, who had, according to his own confession, thrived on a double life, Nick with the appalling table manners, Paul who had talked about himself all evening, and Lawrie, the latest disaster, who had spent the entire date describing his red sports car, apparently believing that it would be enough to make any woman fall at his feet. Thea had assured her that tonight would be different, but Nell wasn’t convinced.

‘I never really had boyfriends even when I was young,’ she told Clara now. ‘I married your father when I was twenty-one and before that there was only-’

She stopped. Somehow she had ended up back at P.J. It was uncanny the way all her thoughts seemed to lead back to him, in spite of the fact that she had decided so utterly and definitely that she absolutely was not, no way, going to think about him anymore.

‘Oh, look at that puppy,’ she said quickly as a scatty Labrador with huge paws and an eager expression gambolled along the pavement towards them, towing its owner in its wake.

‘Ah-h-h…cute…’ Clara cooed and let the puppy slurp at her fingers, quivering in ecstasy at all the attention, but the moment it had been dragged on its way she fixed a beady look on her mother, who had just begun to hope that she had been successfully distracted.

‘Only who?’

‘Only who what?’ Nell prevaricated. Clara was a darling, but sometimes she could be just a little too perceptive and persistent for comfort.

‘You said you’d only had one boyfriend before Dad,’ Clara reminded her.

‘Oh, yes, that’s right,’ she said as carelessly as she could. ‘Just a boy I knew at school.’

‘What was his name?’

‘P.J.,’ she admitted reluctantly.

‘What, like in pyjamas?’ said Clara, unimpressed.

‘Yes.’ Nell was conscious of a slightly defensive tinge to her voice. She had thought of P.J. as P.J. for so long that the initials no longer seemed odd to her.

‘Why was he called that?’

‘His real name was Peter John Smith,’ she explained. ‘He used to say that using his initials was the only way he could make himself sound interesting.’

Clara looked puzzled. ‘Was he really boring, then?’

‘No, he wasn’t boring.’ Nell couldn’t help smiling as she shook her head. P.J. had been a lot of things, but never boring.

His image rose before her, long and lanky, with that humorous, beaky face and eyes that were blue and very alert. P.J. would never have made it as a model, that was for sure, but he had been kind and clever and funny, and everybody had liked him.

‘He was…nice,’ she told Clara. ‘He was very easy to talk to. We had good fun together.’

The other girls had mooned over the better-looking boys in the year above, but P.J. had been much more fun. And it wasn’t as if he had been exactly ugly. He had had a stubborn jaw and laughing eyes and an unexpected, slightly lopsided smile that would suddenly make him seem much more attractive than he actually was.

Without meaning to, Nell sighed. If only she couldn’t remember him quite so vividly.

‘What happened?’ asked Clara. ‘Did you have a fight?’

‘No.’ Nell hesitated. It was hard to explain what had happened when she couldn’t even explain it to herself now. ‘We’d been going out since I was sixteen and he was seventeen. We’d been away to different universities and…well, I suppose we’d started to grow apart.’

They had been so young, too, she thought. She had been just twenty-one, and desperate to get married and have a family, while P.J. had wanted to wait. It had begun to seem as if they were just staying together out of force of habit.

‘And then I met your father…’

She trailed off, remembering how glamorous Simon had seemed at the time. A few years older, he had had all the swagger and sophistication that P.J. had lacked, while she had been too naive to realise that kindness was worth so much more than sophistication, or that good looks and self-confidence counted for little compared to someone you could rely on absolutely.

Like P.J., in fact.

‘Your dad swept me off my feet,’ she told Clara.

And he had. Simon had promised her everything she had ever wanted…and then spent the next eight years crushing her bright hopes one by one.

Clara swung her bag thoughtfully. ‘Do you wish you’d married P.J. instead of Dad?’

‘Of course not.’ Nell stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, and gave her daughter a hug. ‘If I hadn’t married Dad, I wouldn’t have you. How could I possibly be sorry about that?’

She couldn’t let Clara think that she ever regretted the choice she had made. Her marriage to Simon hadn’t been a success, but they had had Clara, and she was worth everything.

‘It’s all a long time ago,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t think P.J. even remembers me now.’

Somehow it was a depressing thought. Nell made herself push it away and squared her shoulders mentally. It was ridiculous the way she had let thoughts of P.J. unsettle her recently. She had been fine when she’d thought he was in the States, but, really, what difference did it make if he was back in London or not? It wasn’t as if she mixed with a wealthy crowd, let alone with billionaires, so she was hardly any more likely to bump into him.

So she might as well put him out of her mind. Again.

The trouble was, her life just wasn’t big enough at the moment. That was the only reason P.J. suddenly seemed so important. Thea was right, she needed to get out there and meet someone new, or failing that take up a hobby. Basket-weaving, or train spotting or something… There must be some interest out there for her. There was no use hankering after what-might-have-beens.

They crossed the last road and turned into the busy street where Clara went to school. There was still a cluster of parents and children at the gate, so they weren’t too late, thank goodness.

Nell glanced at her watch. She might get the earlier tube after all. It would give her time to pick up her suit from the dry-cleaner’s and get changed and made up before she had to face her boss. Eve was always banging on about the importance of professional image, and she wouldn’t think much of Nell in old track-suit pants, faded sweatshirt and trainers, with a naked face and hair all over the place. This would be the morning she had slept through her alarm.

This was better, thinking about work instead of about P.J., Nell congratulated herself. A motorised wheelchair was buzzing busily towards her along the pavement, and, her mind still on not thinking about P.J., Nell stepped automatically out of the way.

Only to misjudge the kerb and stumble into the road, right into the path of a passing car. There was a glancing blow on her arm and a squeal of brakes, but all Nell could see was her daughter’s white, horrified face.

‘Mum!’

The car practically stood on its nose and Nell reeled away from it, feeling sick with shock at the narrowness of her escape.

‘It’s OK… I’m OK…’ she said as Clara flung herself at her, and she hugged the little girl tightly to reassure her.

A car door slammed and quick footsteps came towards them. ‘Are you all right?’ a male voice asked, sharp with concern. ‘I didn’t hit you, did I?’

Clara pulled herself away from her mother and turned on him furiously, venting her fright in shrill anger. ‘You should be more careful! You could have knocked her over!’

Nell braced herself for a mouthful of abuse. A lot of drivers would react aggressively in a near accident, and it had been her fault, after all. Fortunately, this man seemed to take in Clara’s distress and was calm enough not to take out his own fright on a little girl.

‘Yes, I could,’ he said to Clara, sounding almost as shaken as Nell felt. ‘I’m really sorry. I wasn’t expecting your mother to step out into the road like that, but that’s no excuse, I know.’ He turned to Nell, who was rubbing her arm. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No, I…I…’ She trailed off in disbelief.

He looked just like P.J.

Older, tougher, more solid, but yes, exactly like P.J. He looked like him, he even sounded like him, but clearly he couldn’t be P.J. That would be too weird. Coincidences like that just didn’t happen. It was just that she’d been thinking about him.

Nell shook her head slightly to clear it. Perhaps she had been knocked over after all and was having some bizarre out-of-body experience? But he was staring back at her and the blue eyes that were uncannily like P.J.’s widened with incredulous recognition.

‘Nell?’ he asked in a tentative voice.

‘Hello, P.J.,’ she said weakly.

CHAPTER TWO

P.J. STARED at her, trying to take in the fact that it was actually Nell. Janey had been doing her best to drop her name into every conversation they had had since he had come back to London, and he had been disturbed by how vividly he could remember her.

Nell was divorced now, Janey had said pointedly. Why didn’t he give her a ring?

P.J. had been hesitant. It wasn’t as if he had been pining for Nell all these years, but the memory of the look in her eyes as she gave him back his ring still had a surprising power to hurt. The raw pain had faded to the merest twinge now, of course, but he didn’t want to go through that again.

Still, the idea of seeing her again had both intrigued and unnerved him, and he had been thinking about it more than he should have done. That was probably why he hadn’t been concentrating as well as he should, until she had stumbled out into the road in front of him.

And now here she was, his first love, his lost love, standing in a busy London street, while the passers-by, hopeful at first of some gory incident, had quickly lost interest and were now surging impersonally past them once more, oblivious to the fact that his world had just turned upside down.

Nell.

She was older, of course, and thinner, he thought, and she had lost the golden bloom that had so entranced him as an adolescent. There was a wariness and a weariness in the lines around her eyes that hadn’t been there before, but it was unmistakably Nell. She had the same wide grey gaze, the same sweetness in her expression, the same air of deceptive fragility.

‘Nell…’ He ran his hands through his hair a little helplessly. ‘This is bizarre… I always hoped I’d bump into you again one day, but not literally! Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?’

Nell looked down at herself as if to check, becoming aware for the first time of a dull throb in her ankle. She must have wrenched her bad foot as she’d tried to right herself.

‘I think my arm just caught your wing mirror,’ she said, feeling more shaken by coming face to face with P.J. than by the accident.

It was disconcerting to find him so familiar, and yet so changed. She had been right in thinking that he would grow into his looks, but she hadn’t expected him to turn into quite such an attractive man. Where the young P.J.’s face had been thin and beaky, now it was strong and angular. His neck and shoulders had broadened as he had thickened out with age, and he had acquired a solidity and a presence that was almost unnerving, but the crooked smile and the blue dancing eyes were just the same.

‘Let me see.’ Unaware of the train of her thoughts, P.J. took her arm and felt it gently. ‘It doesn’t seem to be broken, anyway.’

Nell was unaccountably flustered by the feel of his hands, and miserably conscious of her bare face, and scruffy clothes. If fate had wanted her to meet P.J. again against all the odds, it could at least have waited until she was looking more presentable.

‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ she said almost sharply, and pulled out of his grasp, only to wince as she stepped back onto her twisted ankle.

‘You’re limping,’ said Clara protectively. ‘It’s your bad foot, too.’ She cast P.J. an accusing glance. ‘She broke it last year.’

‘And now I’ve made it worse. I’m sorry…’ P.J. looked enquiring, and Nell had no choice but to make the introduction.

‘This is my daughter, Clara,’ she said. ‘Clara, this is-’

‘P.J.,’ supplied Clara before she could finish. She looked assessingly at P.J. as she held out her hand, and quite suddenly she smiled, as if he had passed some rigorous test. ‘Hello,’ she said.

‘Hello, Clara.’ P.J. shook her hand gravely, but his eyes twinkled. ‘It’s nice to meet you, but I’m really sorry I had to nearly knock your mother over to do it. We’re old friends.’

‘I know,’ said Clara. ‘Mum was just telling me about you. She said you were nice.’

P.J. glanced at Nell, his eyes warm with amusement, and to her chagrin Nell could feel herself blushing.

‘We were just talking old boyfriends and how I met you at school,’ she said as casually as she could. She didn’t want him thinking that she spent her days boring on about him. ‘Clara doesn’t believe that I was ever that young, of course!’

‘Oh, she was,’ P.J. told Clara with a grin. ‘She was the prettiest girl in the school. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was, I can tell you!’

Clara beamed approvingly at him, and Nell’s heart sank. Her daughter was an incurable matchmaker, especially since she had taken such a successful hand in her aunt Thea’s affairs the previous year, and now she had evidently decided that it was time that her mother had some romance in her life, too. It was clear that she was eyeing P.J. up as prospective candidate.

Heaven only knew what she would say if she discovered that P.J. was not only eligible but rich enough to solve all her mother’s financial problems without even noticing a blip in his bank account! She had to nip her plans in the bud right now, Nell decided.

‘Clara, we’re going to be really late,’ she said quickly. ‘We’d better get on.’ She turned to P.J. ‘Nice to see you again, P.J.,’ she said with a bright smile and what she hoped was an air of finality.

If P.J. heard it, he ignored it. ‘Let me give you a lift,’ he said.

‘There’s no need,’ Nell said firmly, and pointed to the school gates. ‘We’re just going along here.’

‘What about your ankle, Mum?’ Clara put in. ‘You won’t be able to walk on it. How are you going to get to work?’

‘I’ll be fine when I get to the tube.’

‘Where do you work?’ asked P.J.

‘In the city,’ said Clara, disregarding Nell’s attempt at a quelling look. ‘It takes ages to get there,’ she added, blatantly fishing.

P.J. didn’t disappoint her. ‘Oh, well, that’s easy, then,’ he said. ‘I’m going that way myself. I just have to drop off the kids first.’

Kids?

Jolted out of her annoyance at the way the two of them were calmly organising her life for her, Nell turned belatedly to where a car with sleek, expensive lines was pulled up, half on, half off the pavement. Three small, curious faces were staring through the back window at them.

Three? And this was the man who hadn’t been ready for children at all! An extraordinary mixture of emotions-none of them explicable-churned around in Nell’s chest. Surprise, regret, disappointment, and worst of all something that felt suspiciously like jealousy.

She didn’t know why she was so taken aback. Why shouldn’t P.J. have married and had a family just as she had? What had she expected? That he would have spent the last sixteen years pining for her?

Janey had told Thea that he was single at the moment, and somehow it had never occurred to Nell that he might be divorced, like her. She had always thought of P.J. as someone who would make a commitment and stick by it, no matter what.

Of course, Thea might have misunderstood. Why not accept the more obvious explanation? Nell asked herself. That P.J. was happily married with three gorgeous children, and a phenomenally successful career, while she was single, with one gorgeous child, and her career was best not thought about too much.

‘It won’t take long,’ P.J. was saying. ‘Their school is just round the corner.’

Nell knew the one. It was an extortionately expensive private school, the kind of place she would never have been able to send Clara, even if she and Simon were still married. Not that expense would be an issue for P.J. now. You only had to look at that car and the immaculately tailored suit he was wearing to know that he could afford whatever he wanted.

He had a very different life from her now, that was for sure. Not that it made any difference to her, Nell reminded herself. There was no reason for her to feel prickly and defensive the way she suddenly was feeling for some reason.

‘Really, there’s no need for you to give me a lift,’ she said shortly, and saw Clara looking puzzled at her tone. ‘I’m quite capable of walking, and anyway, the tube is much quicker than sitting in traffic. Thank you for the offer, but we really should go. Come along, Clara.’

Sadly, her attempt at a dignified exit was ruined by the way her ankle buckled the moment she tried to take a step.

‘Mum, you can’t walk,’ cried Clara, obviously exasperated by her mother’s stubbornness. ‘Don’t be silly!’

‘Clara’s right,’ said P.J., and gave Nell a smile that made her heart do an alarming somersault. ‘You always used to be so sensible, Nell. Don’t tell me you’ve changed that much!’

‘You have,’ she said without thinking.

‘I’m sixteen years older and wearing a suit,’ he acknowledged, ‘but otherwise I’m just the same. I’m not suggesting you get into a car with a stranger. We used to be friends.’

And lovers…

The unspoken words hung in the air, and for Nell it was like a series of pictures flicking through her mind. P.J. reaching confidently for her hand, smiling as he drew her towards him. Lying by the river in the long, sweet grass, drowsy with sunshine, feeling the tickle of a feather on her nose, opening her eyes to see him leaning above her with that wicked grin. P.J. turning up at her door, half hidden behind a huge bunch of roses, when she passed her finals; holding her as she wept and wept for a lost dog.

‘Come on, Nell,’ he said with a smile that told her he remembered just as much as she did. ‘Get in the car and stop being silly like Clara says!’

Clara giggled and hugged Nell, evidently taking it for granted that the matter was now decided. ‘Bye, Mum. See you tonight.’ She turned brightly to her new ally. ‘Bye, P.J. Don’t let Mum do anything she shouldn’t!’

‘Goodbye, Clara.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after her.’

Nell shook her head ruefully as her daughter ran off, school bag bumping against her back. ‘That girl…!’

‘She’s great,’ said P.J. ‘I like children with personality.’

‘She’s got that all right,’ said Nell with feeling.

‘Well, she’s issued her instructions, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if she finds out that you haven’t done as you were told!’ He held open the passenger door. ‘Come on, in you get.’

It would be ridiculous to refuse now, and she could hardly run off with her ankle like this. With the distinct feeling that she was being managed, and not at all sure that she liked it, Nell limped over to the car and got in. Turning with a little difficulty, she smiled a hello at the children in the back.

‘Jake, Emily and Flora,’ said P.J., pointing affectionately at each one. ‘Kids, this lady I almost knocked over is an old friend of mine, Nell Martindale.’

It was odd hearing her maiden name again. ‘Nell Shea now,’ she reminded him.

‘Of course. Sorry.’

P.J. switched on the engine abruptly. He had forgotten Simon Shea there for a moment. Of course Nell had taken his name. She had been besotted with him. Stupid to think she would have changed it back.

‘We’re divorced, but I kept Shea so that I’d have the same surname as Clara,’ she said, almost as if she could read his mind.

‘Oh. Sure.’

P.J. felt a bit better for some reason. He checked the mirror and pulled out into the heavy traffic as Nell engaged the children in conversation, discovering that they were nine, seven, and five and a quarter respectively, that they didn’t mind school but that they all hated Mrs Tarbuck, who shouted at them if they were naughty.

Nell had always been good with children, he remembered, and had longed to have a baby of her own. He was the one who had resisted the idea, thinking that they were too young and that there would be plenty of time to start a family. More fool him, he thought bitterly. While he had still been hesitating, Simon Shea had swept Nell off her feet with his easy promises.

P.J. was a quick learner. After that, he had seized every opportunity that had come his way. It had led to astonishing success and wealth beyond anything he had ever been able to imagine, but somehow none of it had ever quite compensated for the bitterness of that first hard lesson.

In the back seat, the children were still chatting happily to Nell about the contents of their lunch boxes.

‘It sounds yummy,’ said Nell, thinking what engaging children they were. They didn’t look exactly like P.J., but there was a definite family resemblance and Jake, the boy, had the same alert blue eyes. Would their children have looked like this if they had married? she wondered a little wistfully.

‘But I don’t like banana,’ little Flora was grumbling, sticking out her lower lip. ‘Mummy always makes me have one. She says I have to have a bit of fruit, but I don’t see why I should.’

‘I’m afraid I make Clara have fruit every day, too,’ Nell confessed to Flora’s disgust. She might not like the idea of P.J. having a wife, but on some things mothers had to stick together.

‘Here we are.’ P.J. pulled up outside the school and opened his door to get out. ‘Out you get.’

The three children scrambled out of the back seat and he stooped, giving the girls a kiss and Jake an affectionate tweak on the nose, and then they were gone, running into school with their friends.

‘They’ve forgotten us already,’ he said wryly to Nell as he got back into the car, and she nodded, grasping at the chance to fill up this first moment when they were alone with polite chit-chat.

‘Clara’s like that. The moment she meets up with her friends, she’s completely absorbed in their own world. I’m sure she never gives me a thought when she’s with them.’

P.J. sent her a sidelong glance. ‘You should be pleased that she’s not clinging to you. You want your child to grow up well balanced and independent, don’t you?’

‘Of course, but sometimes it’s a little hard when you spend your whole life thinking about them and you realise it’s all one way.’

‘That’s your job as a parent, isn’t it?’ he said with a lopsided smile. ‘And Clara’s the kind of child who’ll go far. She’s got charm in spades.’

‘When she wants to use it,’ said Nell in a dry voice. ‘She’s like her father that way,’ she added without thinking.

‘Ah, yes, Simon,’ said P.J. evenly. ‘How is he?’

‘He’s well. He’s got a new wife and a new family now, though, and I don’t see much of him.’

‘Janey told me that you were divorced,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you. I know how much you loved him.’

Had she loved Simon, or had she just been carried away by an illusion? Nell wondered. It was hard to remember now.

‘You were right,’ she said abruptly.

‘I was right?’ P.J. glanced at her in surprise. ‘What about?’

‘You said that Simon didn’t really know me, so he couldn’t really love me. You said I didn’t really know him, so I couldn’t trust him. You said he’d break my heart and leave me…and he did.’ Nell’s smile was twisted. ‘I think you’re fully entitled to say “I told you so!’”

‘Nell…’ P.J. wished he could say something to help, but he couldn’t think of anything. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last, quite simply. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was just lashing out because I was raw and bitter. I suppose I wanted to hurt you because you’d hurt me, but I swear I never wanted to be proved right.’

‘I know. I’m sorry, too,’ said Nell quietly. ‘I never wanted to hurt you, P.J., but I know that I did.’

‘Hey, I survived.’ The corner of P.J.’s mouth turned up in his crooked smile as he tried to lighten the atmosphere, and Nell found herself remembering with piercing clarity exactly what his lips had felt like against her skin. Shivering a little, she turned away.

‘I can’t say I thought so at the time,’ he admitted, hoping to take some of the sadness from her expression, ‘but it didn’t take long for me to realise that it was all for the best.’ He hated the thought that she had spent years feeling guilty about the way their relationship had ended. She had had enough to bear without that.

‘Oh?’ Nell kept her eyes on the car ahead as they inched towards a busy junction. Naturally, she was pleased to know that P.J. hadn’t been heartbroken, but surely he ought to have had some regrets?

Or had he been wanting to end things himself, so that her decision had come as a huge relief? For some reason, that thought was worse than feeling guilty about the way she had hurt him.

‘You were right, too,’ P.J. told her, one eye on the traffic, the other on Nell’s suddenly rigid profile. ‘We’d been together too long, and our relationship was stale. It was time for us to be braver and get out there on our own. If we’d got married then, we would have been tied down with a mortgage and babies straight away. We would never have gone to Africa or done all those things we’d planned to do, would we? We’d still be there, regretting the opportunities we’d missed, and resenting each other for it. I certainly don’t think I’d have taken the risks I did to start my company if I’d had a family to think about.’

They had made it to the junction, and P.J. waited, looking for an opportunity to cut across the traffic. Nell studied him sideways under her lashes as he concentrated on driving. The set of his jaw was achingly familiar, and the line of his cheek and the curl of his mouth made her feel hollow inside.

He could have been hers. They could have spent the last sixteen years loving and laughing. They could have gone to Africa, and taken any babies with them. They would have been able to do anything as long as they were together. It wouldn’t have had to end in bitterness and resentment the way P.J. thought it would.

‘So you think it all worked out for the best?’ she asked.

CHAPTER THREE

AN ONCOMING car flashed its lights, and P.J. pulled out, easing the car in the long line of traffic and lifting a hand in acknowledgement. ‘Yes, I do.’ He glanced at Nell. ‘Don’t you?’

‘I’m sure you’re right about us,’ she said quickly, in case he thought she had more regrets about their broken engagement than he did.

‘But?’ he prompted.

Nell sighed. ‘But when your marriage ends in a mess, it’s hard sometimes to think that it was all for the best.’

‘I can imagine,’ said P.J., contrite. He hesitated. ‘Does it still hurt?’

‘About Simon?’

He nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.

‘Not really. Not now. At the time it was horrible,’ she told him, surprised at how easily she had slipped back into the way of talking to P.J. about the things she would normally keep to herself. ‘But by the end it was just such a relief not to have to pretend and argue anymore.

‘I didn’t want Clara to grow up with us shouting at each other,’ she said, remembering how Simon had lied and blustered and finally left. ‘It wasn’t how I imagined having a family,’ she went on a little sadly. ‘I’d dreamt about giving my children a loving home with two parents but…well, it didn’t work out like that, and I think it’s better this way. At least Clara has a “normal” life when she’s with Simon and Elaine.’

‘How often does she see her father?’ asked P.J. after a while.

‘Not as often as she needs.’ Nell watched a young man walking along the pavement, a small boy perched, delighted, on his shoulders. The sight of a father being tender and loving with his children always gave her a pang, thinking about how uninterested Simon had been with Clara.

‘Simon’s not a cruel father. He pays his maintenance for Clara on time, and he does his duty by her…but that’s just what it feels like, a duty. It’s as if she’s a tiresome obligation now that he’s got a new family. And I don’t think Elaine feels comfortable with Clara. She’s always changing the arrangements when Clara is due to go over there, and they never include her in their family holidays.’

‘That’s hard,’ commented P.J.

‘I don’t mind not being part of Simon’s life anymore,’ Nell tried to explain, ‘but I do mind for Clara. She’s always been an incredibly sensible child and she never complains, but she’s only ten.’

‘I can’t imagine having a daughter like Clara and not wanting to spend as much time with her as possible,’ said P.J., stopping at a pedestrian crossing.

‘I know. That’s why I-’ Nell caught herself up just in time. She had been about to tell P.J. about her efforts to find a man who would be a better male influence in Clara’s life, but that would be taking confidences a bit too far. P.J. had only been back in her life for a matter of minutes, and a girl had her pride, after all.

‘Why you what?’

‘Oh, nothing.’

P.J. sent her an uncomfortably searching glance. ‘You’ve never thought about marrying again?’

Nell had never liked his habit of being able to follow her train of thought even when she was trying to be her most inscrutable.

Nell thought about asking him if he had any idea how difficult it was to find someone new when you were in your thirties, and had a child, and couldn’t afford to go out, and in any case were too dog-tired after working all day and then looking after your daughter to dream about anything more exciting than a hot bath and an early night. And that was before you started looking at the single men who were available!

‘No,’ was all she said in the end, though.

It was definitely time to change the subject. ‘What nice children Jake and Emily and Flora are,’ she said, and meaning it. ‘You must be very proud of them.’

‘I am,’ said P.J. ‘Although I must admit that I haven’t really had that much to do with them over the last few years.’

Nell couldn’t help staring at him. How could he sound so casual about not spending enough time with his own children? She would have expected that P.J., once he became a father, would take his role very seriously.

‘Their mother deserves all the credit for bringing them up, I think,’ he was saying. ‘She doesn’t get as much support as she should.’

Nell’s brows drew together. ‘In that case, perhaps you could do a bit more to help her?’ she suggested coolly.

‘I’d like to,’ said P.J., ‘but it’s difficult…and I have got a business to run.’

That had always been Simon’s excuse too, she thought bitterly. ‘I haven’t got time,’ he had used to say. ‘I can’t afford to take time off. I can’t support you and Clara unless I work, can I?’ His job, it seemed, was always more important than giving his daughter some attention.

‘Oh, well, if your business needs you…’ she said, not bothering to disguise her sarcasm, and P.J. looked at her with a puzzled frown.

‘It probably doesn’t need me as much as I’d like,’ he admitted.

‘Does it need you more than your children?’

P.J.’s brow cleared. ‘Are you thinking about Flora and Emily and Jake, by any chance?’

‘Of course.’

‘They’re not mine,’ he told her with a grin.

‘But I thought…’ Nell trailed off, trying to remember exactly what he had said about the children.

‘They’re Janey’s. You remember my sister, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she said a little stiffly, feeling foolish. It was an easy enough mistake to make, but, still, she shouldn’t have leapt to conclusions.

And did this mean that P.J. did not in fact have the perfect marriage and the perfect family after all? Nell fought down the flicker of excitement that came with the thought.

‘You obviously get on very well with them, anyway,’ she said.

‘I’ve been based in the States for the last few years, so I just saw them occasionally, but I’ve tried to make more of an effort since I got back to London,’ P.J. told her. ‘I still haven’t sorted out a house, so I quite often spend the night with Janey. It gives me a chance to get to know the kids, and, as Janey’s husband is away on business a lot, I think she’s glad of the company.’

He grinned. ‘Of course, the kids only like me because I give them a lift to school in the morning. Janey normally makes them walk.’

Janey had been just another giggling friend of Thea’s when she and P.J. had been going out, but the more Nell heard about her now, the more she thought the two of them would get on. Not that she would get a chance to find out, Nell reminded herself quickly. She and P.J. had very different lives now, and it would be best to keep them that way.

Still, she thought P.J.’s nieces and nephew probably liked him as more than a chauffeur.

‘It’s a lovely car,’ she said, stroking the soft leather seat appreciatively. ‘I’m not surprised they like being chauffered around in it!’

‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’ P.J. gave the dashboard an affectionate pat, and Nell was submerged in a wash of memory so powerful that she clutched onto the seat as if it were all that stopped her being swept straight back into the past.

P.J. had always loved cars. She could see him now, showing off the first car he had ever owned, the one he had worked so hard to buy. His face had been alight with pride as he’d pointed out wheel trims and carburettors and propeller shafts, none of which had meant anything to Nell, who had only been able to see a battered old car. But she had nodded and looked suitably impressed, happy because he had been.

‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’ That was what he had said then, too, and Nell had smiled and agreed.

Now she couldn’t help smiling. ‘She’s absolutely gorgeous,’ she teased, exactly as she had then.

P.J. laughed and glanced at her as she sat beside him, and as their eyes met the air was suddenly charged with the memory of what had happened next.

‘She’s not as gorgeous as you,’ he had said, pulling her towards him and turning her so that he could press her against the car door and cup her face between his hands. ‘She’s not beautiful the way you are,’ he said, his young man’s voice low and husky, and then he kissed her the way he had never kissed her before, a boy no longer but a man with seductive lips and sure hands.

Nell could still feel the way the door handle had pressed into her back. His urgency had taken her aback at first, until her own body had risen to meet it and match it, and she had wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Her mouth was dry, her throat tight, and she swallowed as the memories pulsed and pounded through her. His hands had been so persuasive, his mouth so warm against her skin as they had explored each other, tentatively at first and then with increasing urgency, as they had discovered new sensations that had been thrilling and almost frightening in their intensity.

How could she have thrown all that away? Nell tried to remember when it had all changed. When had she started to take that excitement for granted? Had it been when P.J. had gone away to university, or when she had a year later? By the time she had graduated, they had been going out for five years. She had been ready to start a family, but P.J. had wanted to be sensible and wait until he was established in his new career.

Then Simon had turned up, and everything had changed again. He had been so confident, so dangerous and intriguing and exciting, and P.J. had been dear and familiar and not there.

And she had been young and silly, Nell knew that now. Too young to appreciate what she had in P.J. and too silly to understand the risk she was taking in throwing in her lot with a man she hardly knew.

Now the air was crackling with the memory of that first car, and the good times she and P.J. had shared. Nell bit her lip. She had known that getting in the car with P.J. was a mistake. She should have taken the tube, and to hell with her ankle, whatever Clara might have said.

The past was past. There was no point in sitting here and remembering how much she had loved P.J. now, not when he had turned into someone so attractive and so successful and so out of reach.

P.J.’s eyes had gone back to the road, and Nell stared fiercely out at the traffic and willed the memories down as she tried to think of something to say.

In the end it was P.J. who spoke. The silence between that glance and his words had probably only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Nell.

‘This car was the first thing I bought when I came back to London,’ he said. ‘Janey said it was typical of me to buy a car before a house.’

Nell was pathetically grateful to him for turning the conversation into neutral channels. She cleared her throat and tried to pretend that she had met him for the first time a few minutes ago, that they had never loved each other.

‘Have you come back to London permanently?’

‘Yes…I think so, anyway. I had a great few years in the States but I started to feel…well, restless, I suppose.’

P.J. couldn’t really explain how that feeling of faint dissatisfaction had crept over him, as if his life were missing something, and he couldn’t work out what it was. ‘I kept thinking about coming home,’ he said at last, ‘but, of course, I haven’t got a home here, at least not yet. I’m renting an apartment at the moment, but it’s not the same as having your own home.’

‘You could buy a house, couldn’t you?’ said Nell, thinking that, if he was half as rich as Thea said he was, London property prices weren’t going to be a problem.

‘I guess so.’

The trouble was that P.J. couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for the idea. He would just have to hand a house over to designers and decorators, who would make it too smart. ‘I’m not sure where I want to be yet, though.’

‘You could take your pick of properties, couldn’t you?’ said Nell. ‘I hear you’ve done well for yourself.’ To say the least.

P.J. glanced at her again. ‘Where did you hear that? I never thought of you as an avid reader of the business pages.’

‘I hardly have time to read the headlines, let alone the business section,’ she told him dryly. ‘No, I had it from Thea, who had it from Janey when they met up on that internet site. It sounds as if Janey’s very proud of you.’

‘That’s not what she tells me,’ said P.J. with a wry smile. ‘She’s usually giving me a hard time about something.’

Building up a billion-dollar business meant nothing to his sister. ‘What’s the point of all that money if you haven’t got someone to share it with?’ she would demand. ‘You need to get married and have a family.’

‘It’s not that easy,’ P.J. complained. ‘I don’t want to get married unless I’m sure I’ve found the right woman.’

‘Well, I can tell you you’re never going to find her until you stop hankering after Nell Martindale!’ Janey said.

‘I got over Nell years ago,’ P.J. protested, but Janey only smiled in that knowing-and particularly annoying-manner she had sometimes.

‘Oh, yes? Has it never occurred to you that every single one of your girlfriends has looked a bit like her, and somehow none of them has ever quite measured up to her?’

P.J. had always pooh-poohed the whole idea. ‘Rubbish,’ he always said firmly. ‘It’s got nothing whatsoever to do with Nell at all.’

But Janey wouldn’t let it go. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her conversation with Nell’s sister, and that Nell herself was free.

‘That slimeball Simon Shea made her life hell for a few years, and then he dumped her and left her high and dry with a baby to look after and minimal maintenance. Thea says that she’s been struggling on her own ever since. You should look her up,’ she went on airily. ‘Maybe you could finally get her out of your system.’

‘She’s not in my system,’ P.J. said through gritted teeth. ‘Nell was great, but it was over years ago,’ he told his sister firmly. ‘I’ve moved on since then.’

‘Sure you have,’ Janey scoffed, and he was so incensed that he ended up letting her set him up on some stupid blind date just to prove to her that he was perfectly ready to meet someone who bore not the slightest resemblance to Nell.

But now, extraordinarily, Nell was here, sitting beside him, and he could smell the faint drift of her perfume and see the curve of her cheek and the downward sweep of her lashes. He yearned suddenly to be able to reach out and touch her and feel her warmth, for her to smile at him and make the lost years disappear. But years didn’t just disappear like that, P.J. knew. They were gone, and nothing could get them back.

Nell’s voice brought him back to the present. ‘Isn’t it true, then?’ she asked.

‘Isn’t what true?’

‘That you’ve made your fortune?’

‘Yes, I’ve made a lot of money,’ said P.J. in a down-to-earth voice. ‘Janey says it’s an obscene amount of money.’ He half smiled. ‘I didn’t set out to be rich, though. I wanted to build a business, and that was the exciting part. The money just came along with the success.’

‘Must be nice, though,’ said Nell, thinking of the bills and the mortgage and the credit card payments that loomed over her every month.

‘Sure. It’s great to be able to buy a car like this without thinking about it but…’

‘You’re not going to tell me that money isn’t everything, are you, P.J.?’

P.J. laughed a little ruefully at the dangerous sweetness of her tone. ‘Guilty as accused!’ he confessed. ‘It’s a horrible cliché, I know, but it really isn’t enough on its own. The best thing is knowing that you don’t need to worry about it anymore, but after a while you’re not even risking anything when you try something new, because you’re always safe and have got money to fall back on.

‘I miss that feeling,’ he told her. Nearly as much as he had missed her, and being able to talk to her like this. ‘Going out on a limb, trying something new, working flat out to make your idea succeed because the alternative is just too dire to contemplate… Now I’ve got a huge business, but I’ve got nothing to do! I employ thousands of people to do what I once did by myself, and it’s all a bit…I don’t know…dull, I guess. I’ve been feeling recently as if I need a new challenge, or something new to get excited about.’

‘You should have a family,’ said Nell lightly. ‘It’s hard to be bored with kids around. And you’d soon find a use for all that money you’ve got sitting around. You have no idea how expensive children are!’

‘So Janey is always telling me,’ said P.J.

There was a pause. ‘Have you ever thought about having a family?’ she asked, trying to sound casual, as if having children weren’t the issue that had pushed them apart all those years ago.

He nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I’ve thought about it a lot. I guess I made the classic mistake of thinking that I should wait until the time was right, and then found that the time was right, but my relationship wasn’t.’

‘You’ve never married?’

‘No…I’ve come close, but…no.’

And it wasn’t anything to do with Nell, whatever Janey said, P.J. swore to himself. It was just that he had never found another woman who was as easy to talk to as she was, who had felt quite as right in his arms, or who could offer him the same sense of peace when she lay warm against him.

‘So you’re still looking for the right woman?’ Nell asked.

P.J. took his eyes off the road to glance at her, and their eyes met for a jarring moment as he remembered how desolate he had felt when she had told him that she was going to marry Simon Shea. ‘We belong together,’ he had told her, not too proud to plead.

‘You’ll find someone else,’ she had said, her voice shaking with tears. ‘Somewhere out there is the perfect woman for you.’

‘No, there isn’t.’ His voice had been as bleak as his heart. ‘It’ll only ever be you.’

All rubbish, naturally. How melodramatic he had been, P.J. thought indulgently. Of course there would be someone for him, just as Nell had said. He just hadn’t found her yet.

‘Yes,’ he said, striving to sound suitably cheerful. ‘Still looking.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I WOULDN’T have thought it would be that difficult,’ said Nell, thinking that she couldn’t be the only woman who had noticed what an attractive man he had grown into. ‘Surely billionaires get to have their pick of beautiful women?’ she added with an ironic look.

‘You’d be surprised,’ said P.J. ‘Janey says I’m impossible to please.’

He hadn’t been hard to please before, thought Nell. All she had had to do was to be herself. Her gaze slid sideways to rest on his profile, lingering on the corner of his cool mouth, before drifting down to the lean, tough body and the competent hands on the steering wheel, and something turned over inside her.

She looked away. Inside the car, the silence seemed suddenly loud, and she could hear her heart thumping.

P.J. seemed aware of the same constraint. ‘That’s enough about my financially rewarding but ultimately empty life,’ he said, mocking himself. ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing.’

‘Oh…’ Nell lifted her shoulders a little helplessly. ‘What is there to say? My life has been very unglamorous compared to yours. I’ve taken no risks and had no staggering success. I can’t boast about my transatlantic lifestyle. I haven’t even got a car, let alone one like this. I’ve just spent the last sixteen years getting through the days and bringing up my daughter as best I can. Not very exciting, I’m afraid.’

‘I hate to sound like a walking cliché,’ said P.J. with an ironic glance, ‘but bringing up a happy, healthy child has to be more worthwhile in the long run than making millions.’

‘It’s probably as hard work, especially when you’re on your own,’ said Nell in a wry voice. ‘Clara was hardly more than a baby when Simon left, so it was difficult to find a job that I could fit around looking after her.’

About to tell him about the expense of childcare, Nell caught herself just in time. She didn’t want to sound like a sad, single mother, consumed with bitterness about her divorce and perpetually moaning about money. If she couldn’t compete with him in the glamorous lifestyle stakes, she could at least convince him that she had a good life and no regrets.

Least of all about him.

‘Anyway, that’s the story of my life,’ she said with a bright smile. ‘No glittering prizes for me, but Clara and I have fun together, my family have been fantastically supportive, I’ve got lots of friends… I think I’ve been pretty lucky. And now I’ve even got a good job, so things are definitely looking up.’

Was that enough to convince P.J. that she was perfectly happy with her life? Nell wondered. If only he hadn’t been quite so successful! It would be much easier to be honest and open with him if she didn’t know how stupendously wealthy he was. As it was, she was terrified that he would think that she was hinting that she regretted having left him and was angling to re-establish their relationship just because of his money.

But P.J. showed no sign of thinking any such thing. He asked about her job instead. ‘I was wondering what you did.’

‘I’m in recruitment,’ said Nell, allowing herself to relax a bit. Talking about work was good. Work made for an excellent neutral topic of conversation. She should stick with it from now on, and not let herself get diverted by memories.

‘I used to work for an agency,’ she told him. ‘I dealt with mostly secretarial and clerical positions, but I’ve just got a new job with a firm of head hunters. It’s very small but very prestigious, so it’s a good move for me, but a bit scary at the same time. Everything is much more pressurised. I find it a bit stressful, to be honest.’

‘Can’t you go back to what you were doing before?’

There spoke someone who hadn’t had to worry about money for a while! ‘I’ve got this quaint little notion about paying my mortgage,’ said Nell, a little more sharply than she intended.

‘The brutal truth is that I need the money,’ she went on, with less of an edge to her voice. ‘And I want to prove myself, too. I’ve never had a chance to work like this before. Everything is much more professional and high-powered.’

‘In what way?’ asked P.J.

‘I’ve got a very demanding boss. She always looks immaculate, and I’m supposed to look the same.’ Nell’s mouth turned down at the corners as she thought about Eve and the impossible standards she set. ‘It’s all about the company’s image, she says, but it’s a bit of a strain having to look perfectly groomed the whole time.’

P.J.’s blue eyes rested for a moment on Nell in her jogging pants and trainers and old sweatshirt, and his mouth quirked.

Nell flushed. He didn’t need to say anything. ‘I change when I get there,’ she told him a shade defensively. ‘I had an accident last year and broke my ankle and my wrist. I’m fine now, but walking long distances is hard except in sensible shoes, so I tend to wear these for the commute and put on my work shoes when I get there.’

‘Very sensible,’ said P.J. gravely, but his eyes danced in a way that made Nell feel distinctly ruffled.

‘Normally I’d be dressed properly by now,’ she told him, even as she wondered why she was bothering to justify her appearance to him. ‘But I’ve got an important meeting this afternoon, and I’m going to pick up my suit from the dry-cleaner’s on the way in.’

If she hadn’t overslept, she would have had her makeup on by now, too. It wasn’t fair. If she had to bump into P.J. she could at least have been looking her best. That was just typical of her life at the moment, thought Nell fatalistically. It was about time something started to go right for a change.

‘How is your ankle now?’ he asked.

‘It’s fine,’ she said truthfully. The rest had done it good, and she could only feel a slight throb now. ‘I won’t have to walk much further on it today, anyway. We’ve got an important meeting this afternoon, but fortunately my boss is a great believer in taxis, so we’ll probably get driven door-to-door.’

P.J. looked interested. ‘What’s the meeting about?’

‘I don’t know much about it, to tell you the truth,’ Nell admitted. ‘I know that we’ve got an important contract to recruit someone for a senior position in some big company, and Eve-my boss-seems to think that if we do a good job, we’ll be in a good position to do a lot more recruitment work for them. She wants me to go along and learn the ropes about finding out what they really want-which is apparently not always what they say they want! Fortunately I’m not going to be called upon to do more than look cool and professional and as if I know what’s going on.’

‘And won’t you?’

‘No,’ said Nell frankly. ‘I’m terrified that someone will ask me a question, but I’m hoping that if I keep my mouth closed and look enigmatic enough, it won’t be too obvious that I haven’t got a clue about what’s happening.’

‘Ah, then you have already learnt the secret of professional success!’ said P.J., amused. ‘I can tell you’ll go far!’

They both laughed, but found their smiles fading at exactly the same moment, as if both unnerved by how quickly they had slipped back into the old, easy ways.

Constraint seeped back into the air. Nell stared desperately out of her window at the commuters streaming out of the tube station they were just passing. She was one of them usually. That was her life, not sitting in this luxurious car, cocooned in comfort with P.J. beside her. She belonged in the crowd, glancing enviously at those who could travel in such comfort. She didn’t belong with P.J., not now.

She must remember that.

It would be too easy to forget if she were to spend any longer in P.J.’s company. The tug of attraction, the tug of the past, was very strong. Nell was conscious of having to dig in her heels mentally to stop herself falling back under the old spell, the one that made it seem as if everything were easy and natural between them.

But how could it be after all this time? This was just a chance encounter, a brief interlude, and it would be a mistake to pretend that it could always be like this. P.J. was a different man, one whose assurance and attractiveness had left her feeling flustered and more disturbed than she wanted to admit. Things might feel the same, but they weren’t, and if she forgot that it would make going back to her real life so much harder. The past was the past. Better if it stayed that way.

As the silence lengthened in the car, and the memory of their shared laughter thrummed in the air, P.J. drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and thought about what Janey had said.

‘You’ll never move on until you’ve got Nell Martindale out of your system. Look her up. She won’t be the same pretty young girl, and you won’t feel the same about her.’

P.J. hadn’t wanted to do that. He hadn’t wanted to see that Nell had grown older, or to think that she had lost her charm. He hadn’t wanted to face the fact that the old dream had died.

But now fate had put her in his way, and she was older, just as he had feared. Older and warier, with faint lines starring her eyes, but she was still beautiful, and the warmth and the charm were still there. Why not see if the spark could be rekindled?

They were edging over Waterloo Bridge now. They would be in the city soon, and then this strange meeting would be over. Why not take advantage of coincidence?

‘What are you doing tonight?’ he asked, breaking the silence so abruptly that Nell started in her seat.

‘Tonight?’ she echoed a little breathlessly.

‘I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner to make up for almost knocking you over,’ said P.J., hating himself for sounding so stiff and awkward. This was Nell, for heaven’s sake. They had been friends and lovers for years. He ought to be able to ask her to dinner without stumbling over his words or making up an excuse to want to see her again.

‘I can’t tonight.’ Nell didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that she had a real excuse. ‘I’ve got a date.’

‘A date?’

P.J. looked so taken aback that Nell was ruffled. ‘There’s no need to sound so surprised!’ she said shortly, wondering if he had been expecting her to fall at his feet with gratitude at his casual invitation. ‘It’s allowed. I’m a free agent.’

‘I didn’t mean that…’ P.J. wasn’t sure what he had meant. He had always thought of Nell as essentially homely, he supposed. She was someone warm and comfortable to curl up with on a sofa, not someone who dressed up and went out on dates.

‘It’s just that you said very firmly that you hadn’t married again,’ he tried to explain, ‘and I assumed…’

‘…that I was too old?’ Nell finished his sentence for him, and P.J. could tell from the brilliance of her smile that he had somehow made things worse for himself.

‘No, of course not-’

‘I am only thirty-seven,’ she said huffily. ‘Not all men fantasise about eighteen-year-old girls, you know. Some even find women my age attractive and desirable.’

‘I know. I’m one of them.’ It was P.J.’s turn to be provoked. He had just asked her out, hadn’t he?

There was an antagonistic pause.

‘So, who’s your date tonight?’ he asked after a moment, wanting to sound casual but afraid that he might have sounded belligerent and sulky instead.

‘His name’s John.’ Nell was feeling spiky and defensive for some reason.

‘Have you been seeing him long?’

There was a distinct edge to P.J.’s voice now, which only made her more determined not to admit that John was a blind date. She didn’t need to account to P.J. for what she did, or whom she met, did she?

‘No, not long, but it’s going very well,’ she said, spotting an opportunity to impress on P.J. that she stood in no need of charitable invitations to dinner from him or anyone else. She wasn’t a sad divorcee, desperate for a night out, whatever he thought.

A muscle tightened in P.J.’s jaw. ‘So, what’s he like, this John?’

‘He’s lovely,’ said Nell, improvising freely. ‘Very kind and funny and intelligent. We get on really well.’ At least, Thea had said that they would. ‘I’m beginning to think he might be the one for me. We’ve started to talk about the future, and, well…it’s still all very new, but I feel quite excited.’

Which would be news to poor John.

‘How did you meet this paragon?’ asked P.J. tightly.

‘Through Thea.’ It was a relief to get back to the truth. ‘She actually set us up on a kind of blind date.’ Nell even managed a laugh as if the very idea of her going on a blind date was absurd. ‘She said we’d be perfect for each other, and we are.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re happy,’ P.J. made himself say, although privately he couldn’t help thinking that her precious John sounded too perfect to be real. He just hoped Nell wasn’t setting herself up for another bitter disappointment. He hated the thought of her being hurt again.

‘I am,’ said Nell, lifting her chin defiantly, and spotting a familiar row of shops with relief. She didn’t want P.J. interrogating her about her supposedly wonderful relationship with John. She wasn’t cut out for elaborate fibs.

‘Oh, that’s the dry-cleaner!’ She pointed gratefully. ‘Could you possibly drop me there, P.J.? I need to pick up my suit.’

P.J. pulled over obligingly, and turned in his seat to watch her as she gathered up her bag. ‘Shall I wait for you?’

‘There’s no need. I just work down there.’ Nell gestured in the direction of some office blocks along the road. ‘I’ll walk from here.’

To P.J. it was as if she were deliberately being vague so that he wouldn’t be able to note where she worked. Obviously she had moved on, he thought with a trace of bitterness. There was no place for him in her life anymore, and if he had any sense he would leave it there, but somehow the thought of saying goodbye and losing her as soon as he had found her again was unendurable.

‘What about another evening?’ he asked, and she paused with her hand on the door.

‘For dinner,’ he said as she looked at him uncertainly. ‘I wouldn’t want to come between you and your hot date, of course, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t meet as old friends, is there?’

Only that it was too hard to think of him as an old friend now that he had thickened out and grown into a disturbingly attractive man. But how could she say that?

‘I…don’t think so, P.J.,’ she managed after a moment. ‘We can’t go back. It was good to see you again, and I’m really grateful for the lift, but the past is the past, and I think we’d better leave it that way.’

She opened her car door, and got out, leaning back in to give him a final word of thanks before she shut it firmly on his hopes and turned quickly away.

A taxi swung past, blaring its horn at P.J. for blocking the road, but he hardly noticed. He just sat there and watched as Nell walked away from him all over again.

CHAPTER FIVE

AS SOON as she could, Nell rang Thea. ‘Guess who I ran into this morning?’

‘Um…Hugh Grant?’

‘No.’

‘Brad Pitt?’

‘No.’

‘More or less exciting?’

Nell hesitated.

‘P.J.,’ said Thea, and it wasn’t even a question.

Nell held the receiver away from her and gaped at it. Sometimes her sister astounded her. ‘How on earth did you guess?’

‘Let’s face it, Nell, most of the men we know aren’t exactly up there with Brad Pitt when it comes to exciting!’ said Thea. ‘P.J. is the only one I can think of who’d give you a moment’s pause if you had to compare him.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of him being exciting,’ said Nell, still more than a little unnerved by her sister’s perspicacity. ‘I was just going to say that meeting him was just as unlikely as meeting Brad Pitt… I can’t believe you guessed it was him!’

‘I suppose it’s just because we’ve been talking about him recently,’ said Thea soothingly. ‘I knew he was back in London and it would be a surprise to run into him, that’s all. Tell me what happened.’

‘It was so weird, Thea,’ Nell said. ‘I still can’t really take it in. One minute I was walking along with Clara, and the next he was there.’ She told Thea about falling off the kerb into P.J.’s car. ‘I thought I was imagining things at first. I thought it was the shock of the accident, but it really was him.’

Thea was delighted. ‘Ooh, Nell, you know what this means, don’t you? It’s fate, literally throwing you together again!’

Nell sighed. She might have known Thea would start on that line. ‘It was a coincidence, Thea, that’s all.’

‘A pretty amazing one, though! Well, go on, what’s he like now?’

‘He’s just the same…’ P.J.’s image rose before Nell with startling clarity. Those blue, blue eyes with their lurking laughter, the strong nose and jaw and the humorous mouth that seemed constantly about to quirk into a smile, and something clenched inside her. ‘But he’s…well, he’s different, too,’ she finished lamely. ‘He’s sixteen years older, for a start.’

‘Has he grown into his looks, then?’ asked Thea, straightforward as ever. ‘I always thought he would look better when he was older.’

‘Well…’

‘Oh, Nell, he was gorgeous, wasn’t he? I can hear it in your voice!’

‘Not gorgeous exactly,’ Nell protested, before her sister got too carried away. ‘But, yes, he’s quite attractive,’ she added, rather proud of her cool and casual manner.

Sadly, it didn’t fool her sister. ‘Gorgeous, then,’ she said with satisfaction. ‘Are you going to see him again?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Nell, trying to sound as if she didn’t care one way or another. ‘He asked me to have dinner with him but…’

‘But what?’ demanded Thea ominously.

‘But I said I didn’t think it was a good idea.’

There was a pause while Thea made an audible attempt to contain her exasperation. ‘Why not?’

‘Thea, there’s no point,’ said Nell.

‘No point in meeting a single, straight, attractive billionaire who just happens to have been in love with you?’

‘He’s certainly not in love with me now,’ said Nell, alarmed to hear, too late, the unconsciously wistful note in her voice.

She made an effort to sound more casual and upbeat. ‘You should see him now, Thea. He wears a suit and tie now, drives an incredibly flash car. He’s very…assured.’

‘P.J. was always like that,’ said Thea to her surprise. ‘Even when he was a teenager, and all legs and nose, he always seemed quietly confident and at ease in his own skin. You don’t meet many people like that, especially not at school!’

‘Well, he’s even more like that now,’ Nell admitted. ‘It was so…odd. I felt as if I knew him, but at the same time it was obvious that I didn’t know him at all. Maybe it was just that I’d changed too much.’

‘You haven’t changed at all.’

‘Yes, I have. I used to be so young and so confident…’ She trailed off a little sadly. ‘I haven’t felt like that for a long time.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Thea conceded thoughtfully. ‘Back then, it was P.J. who seemed to be the lucky one, wasn’t it? Everyone liked him, but he was a bit of a nerd, wasn’t he? And you were always the pretty one with all the boys after you.’

‘He used to say that he couldn’t believe I would even look at him,’ Nell confessed. ‘He made me feel like I was some kind of goddess…and then, this morning… Oh. Thea, I just felt so dowdy and inadequate and a failure compared to him!’

‘I don’t suppose he’d ask you out if he thought that,’ said Thea.

‘I expect he just felt sorry for me,’ said Nell gloomily.

Thea clicked her tongue in exasperation. ‘Nell, you’re still gorgeous! If he asks you out again, you’re to say yes.’

‘He won’t. Anyway, he doesn’t know how to contact me.’

‘That’s not going to be much of a challenge to an intelligent man like P.J., is it? He just needs to ring Janey, who’ll ring me.’

Nell sat up straight in alarm. ‘Thea, you’re not to give her my phone number!’

‘I most certainly will!’ said Thea in her most uncompromising voice. ‘You may want to throw away the chance of getting back together with a wonderful man who’d solve all your problems, but I’m not going to help you do it!’

‘Anyway, he won’t call,’ said Nell perversely. ‘I made it very clear I didn’t want to see him again.’

‘Oh, well, it seems a pity.’

Rather to Nell’s surprise, Thea left it there. ‘Now, what are you wearing tonight?’

‘Oh, I don’t know… My black trousers?’

‘You’re not wearing those trousers again, Nell,’ said Thea bossily. ‘You can wear that dress you bought for my wedding. You look wonderful in that.’

Nell sighed. ‘Do I have to go?’ she asked, thinking that if she hadn’t had this blind date Thea had set her up on, she wouldn’t have had to refuse P.J. that morning. She could have been thinking about looking wonderful for him instead. She would have let herself be persuaded. Just so as not to be rude.

‘It’ll be awful,’ she grumbled. ‘We’ll just end up talking about how wonderful cars are, or about our divorces the way I have with every other man I’ve been out with since Simon.’

‘Well, there haven’t been many of those,’ Thea pointed out reasonably. ‘Not enough to form a pattern, anyway.’

‘I’ve been on four blind dates this year,’ Nell objected, ‘and every single one has been ghastly.’

‘That’s because they were strangers from the lonely hearts column,’ Thea explained patiently. ‘It’ll be different tonight. Why would I set you up with someone awful? I know this guy tonight, and I think he’s great. He’s perfect for you.’

‘Then why won’t you tell me anything about him? Knowing his name is John and that he’ll be sitting in Bar Barabbas with a Swahili dictionary tonight isn’t much to go on!’

‘That’s because I don’t want you going with any preconceptions,’ said Thea. ‘You know what you’re like. You’ll make up your mind about him before you even meet him, and then you’ll get nervous and go all prickly on him.’

The way she had with P.J. that morning, thought Nell guiltily as Thea talked on. She wished she hadn’t been quite so short. It wasn’t his fault that she had felt so flustered, but if only he hadn’t been quite so…overwhelming. She could recall everything about him in vivid detail-his hands on the steering wheel, the twitch at the corner of his mouth, the warmth and humour in his eyes as he’d turned to look at her.

And the way she had longed to reach out and touch him. That was what had really made her uneasy. You couldn’t go around throwing yourself at ex-boyfriends, especially when they had turned into billionaires overnight…well, over sixteen years, anyway.

Thea broke off, suddenly suspicious. ‘Are you listening to me?’ she demanded and Nell caught herself up.

‘Of course I am,’ she lied.

‘I’ve just got a good feeling about today,’ said Thea. ‘You know how you used to tell me that one day I’d wake up, and not know that that was the day I was going to meet the man who would change my life forever? Well, you were right. One day I had no idea about Rhys’s existence, and the next, he was part of my life. All it takes is one day, and your whole life can change.

‘I think today is your day,’ she finished portentously, ‘so all you have to do is go out tonight, relax and be yourself.’

‘There’s no chance of me relaxing until this meeting is over.’ Nell lowered her voice. ‘Eve’s driving us all nuts about it. I’m so wound up now, I’ll be a gibbering wreck by the time we actually get there.’

‘Well, you would go for this high-powered job,’ said Thea unsympathetically. ‘It’s more important that you’re not a gibbering wreck tonight, so don’t be late back. I’ll come over early to make sure you don’t get those black trousers out.’

P.J.’s assistant opened her mouth to pass on a notebook full of messages but he waved her aside. ‘In a minute,’ he said. ‘Can you get my sister on the line first?’

‘P.J.!’ Janey was surprised to hear from him. ‘You don’t usually ring at this time… Nothing’s wrong is it?’

‘Far from it,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Guess who I knocked over this morning?’

‘You knocked someone over?’ Janey was horrified.

‘Not really, but it was pretty close.’ P.J. put on his best Humphrey Bogart accent. ‘But of all the pedestrians on all the pavements in London,’ he paraphrased, ‘I had to knock over Nell Martindale!’

There was a stunned silence at the other end of the phone. ‘Nell? You’re kidding me!’

‘No, I’m not.’ P.J. grinned. ‘And because I know sisters always like to be right, I thought I’d say it before you had a chance to say, “I told you so.” I’ve changed my mind and I do want to see her again. Can you get her number for me from Thea?’

There was another pause. P.J. could practically hear his sister thinking. ‘Why didn’t you just ask Nell out when you saw her?’

‘I did, but she turned me down. She said she had a date tonight.’

‘So do you,’ said Janey in a dry voice.

The smile was wiped from P.J.’s face. ‘Oh, God, I’d forgotten all about that!’ he said, clutching his hair.

‘Don’t even think about trying to back out of it now!’ Janey warned before he could say any more.

‘But, Janey, you’re the one who wanted me to get in touch with Nell!’ said P.J., baffled as ever by his sister’s perverted logic. ‘I’ve admitted that you were right and I was wrong. I do need to get Nell out of my system. Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair on what’s-her-name to pretend I’m looking for another relationship when I’m really only interested in another woman?’

‘Her name’s Helen,’ said Janey coldly, ‘and I don’t think it’s as unfair as standing her up at such short notice. She’s a lovely person, and she wasn’t that keen on being set up on a blind date with you either, to be honest. It would be awful for her if you didn’t turn up.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of leaving her sitting there,’ said P.J. defensively. ‘I thought you could ring her and explain-’

‘Explain what? That my brother is totally perverse? You said you didn’t want to see Nell again, P.J. You said you didn’t want to rake up the past, and that you were perfectly ready to move on to another relationship. And when I suggested introducing you to Helen, you said you’d like to meet her.’

‘I know I did,’ said P.J. through gritted teeth, ‘but that was before I saw Nell again. Everything’s changed now.’

‘So you’ve changed your mind! Who’s to say you wouldn’t change it again when you meet Helen?’ asked Janey. ‘Your trouble, P.J., is that you’re spoilt. You’re too used to getting your own way. You think that because you’ve got all that money you can snap your fingers and have whatever you want. Well, you can’t just dump your date with Helen just because it doesn’t suit you to meet her tonight anymore. I’m not one of your flunkies who’ll say, “Yes, sir, no, sir,” and do your dirty work for you.’

‘You know, Janey,’ said P.J. thinly, ‘if one of my directors spoke to me the way you do, there would be a spare place on the board!’

Janey snorted, unimpressed. ‘You go tonight, and you be at your most charming. If you give Helen so much as an inkling that you don’t really want to be there, you’ll be off my board!’

‘All right.’ P.J. swallowed his wrath with some difficulty. ‘I’ll stick to the arrangement, but will you get Nell’s number for me? I really want to see her again.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Janey, enjoying having her brother on the run for once. ‘That rather depends on what Helen tells me tomorrow, doesn’t it? If she’s happy about the way the date went, then I’ll give Thea a call.’

‘Thank you,’ said P.J., his jaw gritted.

If he’d known Janey would carry on like this, he’d have found out Nell’s number some other way. He could have asked one of his ‘flunkies,’ as Janey called them, to track Nell down, but he’d thought she would be delighted to hear about his change of mind. That was sisters for you!

‘And who knows?’ said Janey, amusement threading her voice. ‘Maybe you’ll decide that Helen is the right woman for you after all, and you’ll ring me tomorrow and tell me you don’t need Nell’s number anymore!’

P.J. didn’t think that was very likely. When Janey had rung off, he sat for a while, staring down at the phone.

He had been so sure that he was over Nell, and, after the years spent dismissing Janey’s suggestions that he was simply searching for a substitute for her, it was galling to realise that his sister had been right all along.

Irritably, he swung his chair round and prowled over to the window. Part of him had been overjoyed to see Nell that morning, but there was part of him too that wished she hadn’t stepped out in front of him and that he had simply driven past her without knowing that she was there.

No, not that, P.J. corrected himself. He had wanted to see her. He just wished that she hadn’t been so familiar, that she hadn’t still been so easy to talk to, still so beautiful… Now it felt as if everything had changed. Nell wasn’t just part of his past, whatever she might say about it. Now she was his present, too. She had been ever since he had looked into her grey eyes that morning and felt his heart squeeze in his chest at the realisation that it was really her, after all this time.

He turned back to his desk, but he didn’t sit down again. He felt edgy and restless, almost cross, and it was because of Nell. She had shaken him so easily out of his own sense of certainty. P.J. didn’t like the feeling, and he especially didn’t like the thought that she had found someone else. Janey had told him that she was divorced, but she hadn’t known that Nell already had the oh-so-perfect John to make her happy again. She didn’t need P.J., and she had made it plain that she didn’t particularly want to see him again.

It had all changed so suddenly, too. He had woken up that morning not knowing that Nell would be part of his life once more before the day was even halfway through. Not knowing that sixteen years of missing her would lead to this moment, and that he would have to face the fact that he still wanted her, and needed her, and that, in the end, nothing had changed at all.

What was it Janey had said about him being too used to having whatever he wanted? P.J. hunched his shoulders uneasily. He didn’t think that he was like that, but there was no doubt that realising that he might not be able to have Nell had left him feeling tense and twitchy and exposed. It was a long time since he had felt like this.

Sixteen years, in fact.

But he wasn’t twenty two anymore, P.J. reminded himself. He was a grown man, and he didn’t have to just accept things anymore. He might not be able to have Nell, but he would do whatever he could to get her back, John or no John. He would go on this date tonight as Janey had insisted, but after that he was going to find Nell, with or without his sister’s help. He would have to. He couldn’t face the thought of losing her all over again.

CHAPTER SIX

THE meeting was scheduled for three o’clock, by which time Nell was wishing that she had never heard of Sygma or its need for a new director of finance. She knew what electronic meant-sort of, anyway-but that was as far as her awareness of, or interest in, firms at the cutting edge of technology went.

Her boss was much more enthusiastic. ‘Sygma are huge,’ she told Nell, several times. ‘They dominate the technology market in North America, and now they’re expanding their operations in London to take advantage of the enlarged European community. They’re going to have phenomenal influence on the business world here, and if we do a good job for them this time, the possibilities are enormous for us.’

Eve’s eyes shone at the prospect. ‘We’ve got to get this meeting right. We’re dealing with an American company, remember, so we need to be punchy and assertive. None of this British self-effacement, Nell! We’ve got a can-do philosophy. We’re positive, professional, the best.’

Nell clenched her fist in what she hoped was a suitably gung-ho gesture. ‘The best,’ she agreed, wishing that Eve would go away and let her get on with her work. ‘Absolutely.’

‘They’ve got a reputation as tough negotiators,’ Eve went on, ‘but we can be tough, too. The important thing is to convince them that we’re consummate professionals, and that we can find them exactly the right person to be their new director of finance. We don’t compromise on quality. Ever.’

Nell suspected that Eve was nervously rehearsing what she would say that afternoon, and after a while she restricted herself to nodding absently. She respected her boss rather than liked her, but she had to admire her when they arrived at Sygma’s offices. No sign of Eve’s earlier tension showed as she shook hands with Lester Graves, the director of human resources who came to meet them.

Nell was glad that she was wearing her best suit. The Sygma offices were extraordinarily stylish, all glass and steel and unobtrusive quality. She began to see what Eve had meant when she’d talked about the company being a force to be reckoned with, and she tried not to feel intimidated as Lester Graves shook her hand and gestured towards a meeting room on their right.

‘Shall we go straight in?’

Punchy, positive, professional, Nell repeated to herself, squaring her shoulders and pulling down her jacket as she followed Eve and Lester across the lobby.

‘By the way, our president will be sitting in on the meeting,’ Lester said to Eve as he opened the door. ‘The director of finance is a key position, and he wants to be sure that you know exactly what we’re looking for.’

In other words, the president didn’t trust his director of human resources to do his job properly, thought Nell, but Eve didn’t miss a beat.

‘Naturally,’ she said coolly. ‘It’s essential that we establish clear channels of communication at this stage.’

A man was standing by the window, but he turned at the sound of Lester’s voice and came over to greet them. Bringing up the rear and half hidden behind Eve, Nell couldn’t see him properly at first.

‘Peter, can I introduce Eve Fleming and Nell Shea?’ said Lester. ‘Ladies, this is our president, Mr Smith.’

Eve shook his hand and said something gracious, and then stepped aside to draw Nell forward.

‘My assistant, Nell Shea.’

It was only then that Nell saw who was holding out his hand towards her.

P.J.

The breath seemed to be stuck in P.J.’s throat, and for a moment he could only stare. It wasn’t just the surprise at seeing her here, although that was startling enough. It was the way she looked.

He had never seen Nell like this before, poised and elegant in a pale pink suit and high heels, her ash blonde hair twisted up and away from her face. The contrast with the way she had looked that morning, in a faded old sweatshirt and with her face bare and her hair tumbled, could hardly be greater, and P.J. was conscious of an absurd spurt of anger at her for changing, and throwing him once again.

He had only decided to sit in on this meeting because he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything all morning. Lester was more than capable of dealing with recruitment issues, but he had agreed readily when P.J. had suggested that he come along as well.

But then he was hardly going to refuse, was he? P.J. thought, shifting uncomfortably at the memory of Janey’s comments about his so-called flunkies who said, ‘Yes, sir,’ and, ‘No, sir,’ and jumped whenever he snapped his fingers. ‘You think you can have whatever you want,’ she had accused him.

Now, P.J. looked at Nell and knew that his sister was right. He couldn’t have Nell for a snap of his fingers. The exultance he had felt when he’d seen that fate had put her in his way once more evaporated. She looked so lovely, so cool and professional, that his confidence faltered. This Nell wasn’t the girl he remembered. She was a woman, who would have to be wooed and won anew, and she wasn’t going to be impressed by his position here, no matter how obsequious his staff were.

Belatedly, P.J. became aware that Lester and Eve were looking at him, evidently waiting for him to finish greeting Nell so that they could get on with their meeting. He glanced back at Nell, and her expression was so appalled that his ready sense of the ridiculous came to his rescue.

If she wanted to pretend that this was a business meeting like any other, so be it.

‘Ms Shea,’ he said formally as he shook her hand.

Nell pulled her hand out of his as if it were scalded, muttering something in reply. She was totally unprepared to see P.J. here, and her heart, which had lurched into her throat at the sight of him, now seemed to be stuck there, beating so frantically that it was all she could do to stay upright.

How could it be P.J., here? Again? Meeting him once had been a bizarre enough coincidence, but twice…!

And he was just behaving as if he had never met her before. Completely thrown, Nell turned and headed blindly after Eve, who was settling down with Lester at the end of a long boardroom table at the other end of the room. So blindly, in fact, that she only just avoided bumping into a massive leather sofa.

Nell was so relieved by her narrow escape that she didn’t see the granite coffee-table that some fool had put in front of the sofa, and stubbed her toe so painfully on it that she was only just able to bite back an extremely rude exclamation in time.

‘Are you all right?’ P.J. asked in concern, and Nell forced back tears of pain.

‘I’m fine,’ she said grittily, aware that Eve was watching her and clearly wondering what she was doing drawing attention to herself like that.

So much for punchy, positive and professional.

Fixing on a smile, Nell limped on to the table and barely restrained a sigh as she sank down next to Eve, and eased off her shoe so that she could rub her poor foot surreptitiously on her calf. Surely this day would start going right soon?

Although obviously not yet, she sighed inwardly as P.J. sat down opposite her, the one place where it would be impossible for her to avoid noticing him.

He pushed his chair back and turned slightly sideways so that his arm rested on the table. ‘Lester’s going to take the meeting,’ he told Eve pleasantly. ‘I’m just here to observe and comment as I think it necessary.’

Yes, and to make things more tense for everybody, thought Nell crossly. Doing her best to ignore the way he sat so lazily relaxed across the table, she put her briefcase on her lap and pulled out a notepad and pen. Placing them neatly in front of her, she put her briefcase down, but as she straightened she made the mistake of catching P.J.’s eye.

He sent her a swift, wicked smile that set her blood tingling in her cheeks and made her poor heart jolt anew. Wrenching her gaze away, Nell straightened her notepad unnecessarily and forced herself to look composed.

Punchy, positive, professional, right?

‘Well, if we’re all ready…’ Lester began.

Nell did her best to look alert and engaged in the discussion between Eve and Lester, but it was very hard with P.J. right there. He was listening with apparent interest, and occasionally turning a pen pensively on the table, but something about the way he sat there was incredibly distracting. No matter how hard Nell tried to focus on Lester, every nerve in her body strained to turn her attention back to P.J., so that even when she was almost cross-eyed with the effort of looking at the other two, it was his image that danced in front of her eyes.

He had taken his jacket off, and his tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up casually, and as her gaze drifted surreptitiously from the hard, exciting line of his cheek to his jaw and the edge of his mouth Nell felt herself submerged beneath another frightening wave of what could only be called lust. She wanted to crawl across the table and into his lap, to run her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, to bury her face into his throat and taste his skin.

She felt hot and feverish, and desperate to get out of the room, and away from him. One part of her was jittery and trembling with the need to touch him, but the other couldn’t help resenting P.J. for doing this to her now. Why did he have to turn up and turn over her life today of all days?

This was an important meeting. Eve had intimated that her future with the firm might hinge on it, and she needed to concentrate, but how could she concentrate on career profiles and shortlists when P.J.’s smile was burning behind her eyelids, when his hand and his forearm were within reach and it was all she could do not to stretch out and let fingers slip over the broad male wrist and curl around his, palm against palm?

Stop thinking like that. Focus.

Nell dragged her attention back to the meeting. It seemed to be going well, judging by the way Eve was nodding thoughtfully.

‘Yes, that’s a good point,’ she told Lester crisply. ‘We’ll bear that in mind. Make a note of it, will you, Nell?’

At the sound of her name, Nell started, and fumbled for her pen, glad of something to do at last, and to take her mind off P.J.

The pen wouldn’t work.

Nell looked at it in disbelief. It had been working perfectly before. She had checked it deliberately. As discreetly as she could, she scribbled on the pad, but the ink wouldn’t flow.

Did she have another pen? Nell wondered desperately. And by the time she had found it, would she remember the point Eve was so anxious for her to note?

Biting her lip, Nell started to bend towards her briefcase very slowly and carefully so that Eve wouldn’t notice what she was doing, but before she could feel around for the handle P.J. had leant across the table and was offering her his pen.

‘Take mine,’ he said.

Of course, at the sound of his voice Eve and Lester paused in mid-conversation and both turned to look disapprovingly at Nell, whose incompetence on the pen front had caused the interruption.

Mortified, Nell had little choice but to take P.J.’s pen with a gritted word of thanks. He couldn’t have drawn more attention to her if he had tried. Why didn’t he go the whole hog and point out to the other two that she wasn’t even professional enough to bring along a pen that worked?

Things weren’t improved by Eve repeating the point very slowly and clearly, so that Nell couldn’t miss it, although actually this was just as well, as otherwise Nell wouldn’t have had a clue what she was supposed to write by that stage. Still, it was humiliating, and it was clear that Eve was not pleased after everything she had had to say about the need to appear the epitome of cool professionalism.

Nell’s cheeks were hot as she made the note, and after that she kept her eyes on Eve and Lester, rigidly ignoring P.J. It was an uncomfortable position, though, with her head turned to one side, and it was impossible after a while not to let her eyes slide back to the other side of the table, where P.J. sat, evidently absorbed in the intricacies of board profiles and fee structures. He had found another no doubt perfectly functioning pen from somewhere, and was twisting it absently between his fingers as he listened.

Nell knew what those fingers felt like. She knew how firmly they could grasp her hand, how safe they had made her feel. She knew how warm and strong they were, and how sure they had been as they slid over her skin.

She wished she didn’t.

She wished the meeting would end. Nell stole a glance at her watch. They had been in there over an hour, and it felt like a lifetime. Surely there was a limit to how much they could find to talk about? It was only a job, for heaven’s sake.

Looking up from her watch, she saw that P.J. was watching her, and their eyes met for another fleeting moment. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking, and Nell coloured, lifted her chin and turned deliberately away from him.

‘I think we’ve covered pretty much everything by now, don’t you?’ P.J. said to Eve and Lester, who immediately nodded their agreement. Perversely, Nell wished that they would disagree with him, even if it did mean that she would be late getting home to Clara. At least it would show him that he couldn’t always have his own way.

But, no. Of course they were too busy kowtowing to him and sycophantically asking for his comments.

‘I thought it was a very interesting discussion,’ he said blandly. The blue gaze went back to Nell. ‘What do you think, Ms Shea? You’ve been looking very enigmatic!’

Nell glared at him. What was it she had said that morning? Something about looking enigmatic when she didn’t have a clue what was going on. And P.J. had laughed and made a joke out of it. It wasn’t fair of him to put her on the spot when he must know quite well how hard she had found it to concentrate.

They were all waiting for her to say something. Nell glanced at Eve, who was telegraphing the need to say exactly the right thing or she could blow it all now, while Lester was waiting courteously enough but obviously wondering why her opinion suddenly mattered so much to his president.

She cleared her throat. ‘I hope I’ve been looking interested rather than enigmatic,’ she said with a cool smile. ‘I think it’s been an extremely useful meeting, that has clarified a number of issues-on both sides,’ she added looking directly at P.J.

There. If he wanted to challenge her on exactly what she had found so interesting, or which issues had been clarified, he could. She could always go back to her old job.

But P.J. only smiled his appreciation of the vagueness of her answer, and Eve visibly relaxed.

‘We’ll be in touch as soon as we’ve drawn up a list of potential candidates,’ she promised as she began to get to her feet.

‘Perhaps it might be useful if you both met some of the other senior members of the team?’ P.J. suggested, standing as well. ‘As you may know, Sygma are sponsoring an exhibition of contemporary British art at the Westruther Gallery, and there’s a reception to mark the opening this evening at six-thirty. We’ll all be there, and it might be a good opportunity for you to meet them socially and get a feel for the kind of organisation we are. What do you think, Lester?’

‘It sounds an excellent idea,’ said Lester predictably, and Eve, equally predictably, was delighted.

‘We’d love to come, wouldn’t we, Nell?’

No, she would not love to come, Nell wanted to shout. She had other things to do this evening, as P.J. knew, and she hated modern art, which he also knew perfectly well. They had spent a weekend in Paris once arguing heatedly about what they had seen in the Beaubourg, and then made up over coffee and calvados in a tiny little café in Montmartre. He had only issued the invitation to throw out her evening.

But she couldn’t say that, could she? Eve’s lips were thinning dangerously, and the look she sent Nell was so steely that she might as well have observed in a loud voice that Nell’s job was on the line. Nell had no option but to force a smile.

‘That sounds lovely,’ she said through clenched teeth, and P.J.’s smile broadened at her obvious reluctance.

‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘I’ll get your names put on the guest list. You never know, you might even enjoy it!’

‘I’m sure we will,’ said Eve warmly, with another warning glance at Nell, but by now Nell was too fed up to care. She had had enough of today.

She put her notepad and pen away in her briefcase and pointedly said nothing as Eve turned back to say goodbye to Lester.

‘Please, do keep my pen, Ms Shea,’ P.J. murmured over Nell’s shoulder, and she actually slapped her forehead with an exclamation of frustration.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said stiffly, making to open her briefcase. ‘I wasn’t intending to steal it. I wasn’t thinking.’

P.J.’s voice changed. ‘Nell, it’s only a pen,’ he said in an undertone so that Eve and Lester couldn’t hear. ‘I was just teasing. Of course, it doesn’t matter.’

‘I think it does.’ Nell extracted the pen and handed it back to him, very much on her dignity. ‘Thank you so much, Mr Smith.’

If she’d hoped to disconcert him, she failed miserably. P.J. only grinned and twirled the pen between his fingers as he stood back to let her past, her briefcase clutched defensively to her chest.

‘I’ll see you later then, after all,’ he said.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘HE MADE me look an absolute fool,’ Nell stormed, slamming the lid onto the kettle and banging it back onto its element.

‘I don’t see how,’ said Thea, who was babysitting Clara and had heard all about the meeting over their first cup of tea. ‘It wasn’t P.J.’s fault that you stubbed your toe, or that your pen ran out, was it?’

It had felt like his fault, Nell thought darkly, but she didn’t know how to explain that to Thea.

‘And he only insisted that we go to that stupid reception tonight because he knew I had a date,’ she went on, opting to ignore her sister’s reasonable comments.

Thea reached for another biscuit. ‘He’s obviously keen to see you again,’ she said with satisfaction.

‘Well, I’m not keen to see him! If Janey asks you for my number, I utterly forbid you to give it to her!’

‘He won’t need your number,’ Thea pointed out through a mouthful of biscuit. ‘He knows where you work now.’

That was true. Nell dropped down into a chair with a gusty sigh. ‘There’ll be fat chance of getting my calls screened either. Eve would make me marry P.J. if she thought it would get her a long-term contract with Sygma!’

‘Well, you could do worse,’ her sister said thoughtfully, and Nell glowered at her.

‘Make up your mind! I thought I was supposed to be falling for this guy I’m meeting tonight?’

‘You know, I really do think you might,’ said Thea with a conspiratorial smile. ‘Still, there’s no harm in having P.J. as a fall-back position, is there?’

‘I think you should get back together with P.J.,’ said Clara, leaning over Nell’s shoulder to pinch another biscuit from the tin. ‘I thought he was really nice.’

‘You hardly met him,’ objected Nell. Why was everyone so determined to push her into P.J.’s arms?

‘He had smiley eyes,’ Clara said simply.

He did have nice eyes. Nell couldn’t dispute that. Their warmth and humour was very hard to resist, and she wasn’t that surprised that her daughter had fallen for their charm, too.

‘I could tell he was pleased to see you, too, Mum,’ Clara went on. ‘Why were you so unfriendly to him?’

Good question. Nell couldn’t explain to Clara that P.J. was much more than a charming smile and an engaging manner. If that was all there was to him, there would be no problem. She would just be able to think of him as an old friend and a nice man, the way everyone else seemed to do.

But old friends didn’t make you churn with desire, did they? They didn’t set your nerves a-jangle, or make you feel restless and breathless with something that was more fear than pleasure, as if the earth had shifted beneath your feet and sent your life and everything you thought you were, everything you thought you wanted, spinning out of your control?

Steeling herself against the way P.J. made her feel was the only way Nell could keep a grip on reality, but how could she explain that to Clara?

‘I was just a bit…thrown,’ she said after a moment. ‘It’s an odd feeling coming face to face with your past without warning like that.’

Nell wanted to go back to the way she had been yesterday. Yes, it had been lonely sometimes, but she had Clara, who made everything worthwhile. So life wasn’t very exciting? At least it was safe, and she was content. Surely that was better than this twitchy, jittery, scarily alive feeling she had had ever since P.J. had crashed back into her life that morning?

‘You’re supposed to be thinking about the future, not the past,’ said Thea, who had been watching her sister’s face. Draining her tea, she got to her feet and brushed the biscuit crumbs from her fingers in a determined manner. ‘Let’s go and make you beautiful for John.’

Between them, Thea and Clara bullied Nell into putting on the dress she had bought in a burst of extravagance to celebrate Thea’s wedding the previous Christmas. At first glance it seemed quite plain, just a dress that clung to her figure and whose smoky grey echoed her eyes, but there was a sheen to the material that added a subtle glamour to the subdued colour, and the effect was softened by the chiffon sleeves and overskirt that fluttered and floated as she moved.

Something about the fabric and the cut made Nell feel wonderful whenever she put it on. Even now, when she was churning with anxiety, she was conscious of a frisson of pleasure as the soft material shimmered around her.

Maybe Thea was right. She should be thinking about the future, not the past. Her life was too small at the moment. There seemed no room for anything except Clara and work. No wonder P.J.’s reappearance had had such an effect on her, Nell thought ruefully. He had made her realise just how limited her life had become. If she had been involved in another relationship, she wouldn’t be this unsettled by him.

Well, that could change. She would make an effort tonight. This John might be just what she needed, Nell told herself. He might be nice. Thea liked him, which was a good sign, but it was hard to imagine him at the moment. Whenever she tried to conjure up a possible picture, all she could see was P.J. smiling at her.

She pushed the image aside once more and concentrated fiercely on imagining a future with a man she loved. Maybe in years to come, she and John would look back on this evening as the first night they met, and they would remember the bar, and how they had felt and this dress…

‘You don’t think it’s too revealing?’ she asked, regarding herself dubiously in the mirror.

‘That’s the whole point,’ said Thea patiently. ‘It’s supposed to be sexy.’

‘But I’ve got to go to this reception first.’ And P.J. would see her wearing it. What if he thought she had made all this effort for him? ‘It’s not really appropriate for a work do.’

Thea waved work aside. ‘If they want you to turn up in a suit, they should keep work to office hours,’ she said. ‘You’ve got a heavy date tonight, and it’s more important that you look nice for that. Now, where are those shoes…? Ah!’

‘Thea, I can’t possibly walk in those,’ Nell protested as her sister pulled a pair of exquisitely delicate sandals from the bottom of her cupboard.

‘Who said anything about walking? You can get taxis this evening,’ said Thea. ‘I’ve already ordered you a cab to get to the gallery. You spent a fortune on these shoes, Nell, and you never wear them. Anything else will spoil the dress, anyway-unless you were thinking of going in your trainers?’ she added sarcastically.

‘I could put them in a bag and change when I get there, the way I do for work,’ Nell pointed out, but Thea wasn’t having any of it.

‘You are not going to ruin everything by hulking a carrier bag along with you,’ she said. Rummaging some more in Nell’s wardrobe, she emerged after a few moments with a tiny sequinned bag, which she pushed into her sister’s hand. ‘Perfect! That is all you’re allowed to carry, and I can tell you now the trainers just won’t fit.’

She stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘You look fabulous!’

‘You do,’ Clara agreed. She had been sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching Thea take her mother in hand. ‘You look beautiful, Mum.’

‘Thank you, darling,’ said Nell, touched. ‘But the truth is that I’d much rather be wearing my dressing gown and staying in for pizza with you and Thea!’

‘Instead of which you’ve got to go out to a glamorous reception and a date with a gorgeous man,’ said Thea with spurious sympathy. ‘It’s a dirty job, I know, but somebody’s got to do it, and tonight it’s your turn! Don’t forget your book,’ she added as they went downstairs to wait for the cab.

Resigned, Nell went into the sitting room and ran an eye along the shelves until she found the Swahili phrase book that Thea had apparently arranged for her to carry as a signal.

She wished Thea hadn’t chosen this book of all books. Pulling it slowly down from the shelf, she stared at it in her hands and felt the memories wash over her. It was years since she had looked at it. Keeping it hadn’t even been a conscious decision, and if anyone had asked her if she had such a phrase book a week ago she would probably have said that she didn’t.

‘Why did you tell John I would have this with me?’

‘Because I’ve been noticing that book on your shelves ever since I’ve been babysitting Clara,’ said Thea. ‘If I’m here on my own and there’s nothing on television, I see if I can find something to read, and that Swahili book always seemed to catch my eye. I’ve often wondered why you had it.’

Nell flicked slowly through the pages. ‘P.J. and I used to talk about a trip to East Africa,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘It was going to be an extended honeymoon. We planned to spend a few months there and we were both going to learn Swahili…’

Her voice trailed off as she remembered how young and innocent and enthusiastic they had been. She couldn’t contemplate a trip like that now without running through all the possible complications and difficulties first. But everything had been simple then. They had loved each other, and the world had been at their feet, and that had been enough.

She remembered going to a cavernous shop in Covent Garden with P.J. and eagerly buying maps and guides and phrase books. That had been just before she’d gone back to university for the last time, and the next time she’d been home, Simon had been there…

‘I wish I could go to Africa,’ sighed Clara. ‘I want to go on safari and see the lions and giraffes and elephants.’

Yes, that was what she and P.J. had wanted to do, too.

‘What is John going to be carrying, again?’ asked Nell, still leafing distractedly through the book.

‘A Swahili dictionary,’ said Thea. ‘He’s been to Tanzania, and that’s what made me think of saying you’d take your phrase book. I thought it was a brilliant idea,’ she added complacently. ‘No one else is likely to have one, are they? So you won’t be able to mistake each other, and it means you don’t need to bother with awkward descriptions.’

‘I suppose it’ll give us something to talk about, if nothing else,’ acknowledged Nell, opening her clutch bag. The phrase book was pocket sized, but the bag was so tiny that she could only just squeeze it in. The clasp wouldn’t close properly, but it was better than carrying the book in her hand. At least this way P.J. wouldn’t see it.

It was a slow drive into the centre of London at that time of the evening, and as Nell sat in the back of the minicab and looked out at the bumper-to-bumper traffic she found herself thinking about those old dreams of camping together under a wide African sky.

‘We’ll lie in our tent and listen to the lions roaring,’ P.J. had promised, his face alight. ‘We’ll watch the sun rise over the Serengeti and we’ll be married, and we’ll be together, and we’ll be the happiest people in the world!’

But they had never made it. She had chosen Simon instead, and that was a choice she had to live with, Nell knew that. On an impulse, she pulled the phrase book out of her bag, and turned it in her hands. For some reason the anger she had felt after that afternoon’s meeting had evaporated at the sight of it.

It wasn’t really P.J. she was angry with, Nell realised. She was angry with herself for regretting the choices she had made. She was angry because he had come back and made her think about how happy they might have been, might still be, if she had chosen differently. It wasn’t P.J.’s fault that he had moved on and made a success of his life without her.

She had Clara. Nell clung to the thought. She couldn’t imagine life without Clara, wouldn’t want to imagine it. But she could imagine being with someone who loved her and cared for her, someone who would make her laugh and hold her when she was sad, who would celebrate her triumphs with her, and commiserate with her failures. Someone who would share her life instead of shutting her off into a small part of it, the way Simon had done.

P.J. would have been a husband like that. Nell stared unseeing out at the traffic and thought about the mistakes she had made. She had had her chance. She had been lucky enough to meet the right man for her, but she had blown it. She had been too young to appreciate kindness and integrity and strength and humour over good looks and glamour. Now, she could see how lucky she had been to find those qualities in her first love, but now it was too late.

Things might be different if P.J. hadn’t been quite so successful, but his immense wealth seemed to Nell to be an insurmountable gulf between them. It changed everything. She didn’t want him for his money, but how would he ever believe that now?

She would have to stay on her side of the gulf and make the best of it, Nell decided sadly. She would go and meet John, and make a real effort to start afresh, and maybe after a while she could forget P.J. all over again.

The gallery was already crowded when she got there, the hubbub spilling out into the street. If only she didn’t have to face P.J. again! Still, with this crowd, there ought to be a good chance of avoiding him. She would go in, show her face to Eve, talk to a couple of people and then go. She had a previous engagement, after all. She couldn’t be expected to rearrange her entire social life around work.

A brief hope that her name might have been missed off the guest list died as she was waved through, so she accepted a glass of champagne and looked cautiously around for Eve.

Of course, the first person she saw was P.J. He wasn’t looking her way, but still the sight of him made her heart jolt painfully, and she jerked her glass, sending champagne slopping over the rim and down the front of her dress. Nell brushed herself down with a hand that was shaking slightly, and told herself to get a grip.

She risked another glance. Like many of the other men in the room, P.J. was wearing a dinner jacket, and the severe black and white tailoring made him look powerful and more distinguished than she had ever seen him. He was standing on one side of the gallery, talking to a dark, intense girl who was dressed in such a challenging way that Nell wondered if she was one of the artists.

He seemed absorbed in his conversation, and Nell let her eyes rest hungrily on him for a moment. It was as if everything about him were in sharp focus, the planes of his face, the set of his shoulders, the white cuff against his brown hand as he gesticulated, and her stomach clenched with longing.

Turning abruptly, she headed off in the opposite direction in search of Eve. There was such a press of people, none of whom seemed to be the slightest bit interested in the pictures and installations that lined the walls, that it was quite hard work pushing through them and when Nell had got as far away from P.J. as she could, she paused. She couldn’t see any sign of Eve.

What now?

The whole exercise was pointless anyway, Nell told herself. There was no way they were going to be able to talk properly to anyone in this crush. Perhaps she would just slip away now…

Glancing longingly towards the entrance through a break in the crowd, she found herself staring straight into a pair of familiar warm blue eyes that lit at the sight of her.

P.J. smiled at her, and Nell’s bones seemed to dissolve. Appalled, she spun on her heel before she had a chance to think and turned her back pointedly, desperate to break the effect of that glinting blue smile. Her instinct was to bolt for the entrance, but if he saw her leaving now P.J. would know that it was because of him.

Unseeingly, she stared at a picture on the wall instead, pretending to be absorbed in it. Surely P.J. would get the point and leave her alone now?

‘What do you think?’ His voice came from behind her and Nell jumped. How had he got across the room that fast? Why had he come at all? Couldn’t he see how hard this was for her?

Her mouth was dry, and she moistened her lips. ‘Think?’ she repeated stupidly. How could she think when he was standing right beside her, near enough for her to turn and lean into him, to rest against his broad chest and wind her arms around his back and cling to him as if he were her last refuge?

‘Of the picture,’ P.J. prompted.

‘Oh.’

With difficulty, Nell focused on the painting and discovered that she had been apparently absorbed in an extremely explicit male nude study. A wave of colour surged up her cheeks, but somehow she managed to keep her expression composed enough.

‘Interesting use of brushwork,’ she said stiltedly, and P.J. laughed.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve learnt to like contemporary art, Nell!’

‘I wouldn’t say “like,’” said Nell, ‘but maybe I’ve learnt to appreciate some of the things I wasn’t old enough to appreciate before.’

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and something flared in P.J.’s face, something that made Nell’s heart stumble, and she looked away almost fiercely, afraid that she had given too much away.

CHAPTER EIGHT

P.J. LOOKED at Nell’s averted face, letting his eyes rest on the pure line of her cheek and the pulse hammering in her throat, and he remembered her as a girl, sitting across a café table in Paris, her expression vivid as she talked and argued and laughed.

Even then he had marvelled that this beautiful creature was really his. That she would love him had seemed too good to be true, and when Simon Shea had swept in and taken her away part of P.J. had told himself that he had always known it couldn’t last. Why would a girl like Nell want to be with him, with his big nose and lanky frame and utter lack of sophistication?

She was still beautiful, still slender and somehow elusive, and as he watched her P.J.’s earlier confidence drained away. He felt twenty-two all over again, awkward and unsure, dazed by her nearness and gripped by the fear that if he tried to hold on to her, she would slip through his fingers and leave.

As she had.

She had John now. She was happy. Why would she want to start all over again with him? Look at her, sophisticated and desirable in a dress that clung in all the right places. It was a dress that made you think about how soft and warm her body would be beneath the soft, floaty material, how it would slide and slither over her skin, what it would be like to ease down the zip…

P.J. swallowed hard.

‘You look stunning,’ he said, aware that he sounded abrupt and almost angry, but unable to help himself.

‘Thank you,’ said Nell a little warily.

‘I hope John appreciates that dress.’

John? For a terrible moment, Nell couldn’t think who he meant, but then she remembered her blind date, and she clutched at the idea. John represented the future, P.J. the past. Pretending that she had already chosen the future would make it easier in the end to say goodbye to P.J. again.

‘John doesn’t think clothes are important,’ she said. It was the first thing that came into her head, and P.J. wasn’t impressed.

‘You don’t have to think clothes are important to appreciate a beautiful woman in a beautiful dress!’ he said. ‘He sounds a bit worthy for you, Nell.’

‘He’s a very nice man,’ she said a little defensively.

‘Not just a little boring?’ P.J. suggested.

‘Of course not,’ said Nell stiffly.

‘It just sounds as if he might be, that’s all.’

Nell glared, so irritated by his needling that she almost forgot that she knew absolutely nothing about John. ‘He’s not like that at all,’ she insisted, lifting her chin defiantly. ‘He’s great. He’s…kind and reliable and…clever…and he’s got a great sense of humour,’ she finished as if laying down a challenge.

‘I suppose he’s incredibly good-looking, too?’ said P.J. nastily.

‘Not that it matters, but, yes, as a matter of fact, he is!’

In for a penny, in for a pound, thought Nell, wondering what the real John would make of all this. Would he have a sense of humour? Would he prove to be kind and clever? Would he be the man who could push P.J. back out of her heart and her mind and her life?

‘He sounds perfect.’ P.J. glowered down into his glass of champagne. ‘So, do you think this is it?’ he made himself ask, not wanting to hear the answer but needing to know if he should give up now. ‘Are you thinking about getting married?’

‘It’s too early to think about that,’ said Nell, deciding not to get carried away with elaborate wedding plans. ‘We haven’t known each other that long. Anyway, I’ve already been married once and engaged twice,’ she added, trying to make a joke of it. ‘My track record isn’t that good, is it?’

‘Maybe it’ll be third time lucky,’ said P.J.

It had been first time lucky, if only she had had the sense to realise it. Nell’s heart twisted.

‘Maybe,’ she agreed, an unconsciously wistful expression in her eyes.

There was a tiny pause. ‘What does Clara think of him?’

‘Clara?’ Nell echoed stupidly.

‘She comes with you as part of the package, doesn’t she? I presume how she and John get on is important to you?’

‘Of course it is,’ said Nell, thrown back on the defensive. ‘But she doesn’t know him very well yet.’

‘Clara struck me as the kind of girl who makes up her mind about people straight away,’ P.J. observed so accurately that Nell was taken aback. That was exactly what Clara did, just as she had done with P.J. that morning. She had looked at him, assessed him, and decided that she liked him, and that was that in Clara’s book. Nothing would change her mind now.

‘Do you know what I think?’ P.J. went on, leaning forward confidentially, and Nell swallowed at his nearness and clutched her glass harder.

‘What?’

‘I think Clara hasn’t got much time for your John,’ he said provocatively. ‘I think she thinks he’s a dull dog, but she doesn’t want to tell you, and that’s why you’re hesitant about committing yourself to him.’

‘Rubbish!’

‘If you loved John and you thought he was the right man, you wouldn’t hesitate,’ said P.J. ‘You’re someone who loves completely and unconditionally.’

‘Yes, well, maybe I’ve learnt to look before I leap,’ Nell said a little bitterly, thinking of Simon.

The look in her eyes made P.J.’s chest hurt. He was just taking his disappointment out on her, he realised. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that he was still in love with her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised in a different voice.

‘John’s a lucky man,’ he went on seriously. ‘I was just trying to say that if I was waiting for you, and you walked in wearing that dress, I would be really proud.’

Nell looked at him, and her heart contracted so painfully that she almost winced. If only she were going to meet P.J. tonight, instead of the blameless John. The longing to tell him so made it hard to speak, and for a moment she could only stand dumb with wishing that everything could be different.

She didn’t want John. He was a friend of Thea’s, and he would be nice, and friendly and charming and probably attractive and a perfect date, but he wasn’t what she wanted. He couldn’t be. She only wanted P.J.

A muscle worked desperately in her jaw to stop her mouth from wobbling, and P.J., understanding that she was upset, but not why, did what he could to lighten the atmosphere.

‘That dress is the third outfit I’ve seen you in today,’ he said, ‘and it’s definitely my favourite. You looked very nice in your track suit and trainers, of course, but they don’t have quite same the same allure, do they? And to be honest, I didn’t think the cool, crisp look you had this afternoon was quite you!’

Grateful to him for changing the subject, Nell made an effort to smile and follow his lead. ‘I usually carry off cool and crisp better than I did this afternoon,’ she told him. ‘My pen always works, and I manage not to walk into the furniture. But then I don’t usually walk into a meeting to find that I’m shaking hands with my ex-fiancé! Did you know I was going to be there?’

P.J. shook his head. ‘Lester mentioned Eve’s name, but not that there would be anyone else with her. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you come in. After this morning, it seemed too much of a coincidence.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘Do you think fate might be trying to tell us something?’

‘Only that it’s as muddled as the rest of us,’ said Nell, as lightly as she could.

A waitress was hovering with a plate of spectacular canapés. Desperate for a distraction, to look at anything other than P.J., Nell took a firm hold of her glass and wedged her sequinned bag under her arm to give herself a free hand. She selected a canapé at random, and was just lifting it to her mouth when someone behind her stepped back into her.

Nell’s arm was jolted, and she jerked instinctively to avoid dropping her champagne, but the movement was enough to dislodge the little bag, and, with her other hand full of canapé, there was no way of saving it. If she’d been able to close it properly, no harm would have been done, but the Swahili phrase book burst through the clasp’s precarious hold and shot onto the floor, followed by all the other contents.

Had she really had all that stuff in that tiny bag? To Nell, rooted to the spot, it seemed as if the contents had multiplied bizarrely and that she was standing in a scattered sea of keys and lipsticks, mobile phones and credit cards, tissues and perfumes and ten-pound notes, all interspersed with the change from the minicab, which was rolling merrily amongst the shoes in every direction.

‘I’m so sorry.’ The man who had bumped into her was full of apologies, stooping like P.J. to help gather everything up.

Why was there never anywhere in these places to put a glass down? Nell looked around helplessly. With both hands full, she felt marooned and ridiculous, the two men apparently grovelling at her feet, and she had no choice in the end but to pop the canapé in her mouth.

Still chewing, she bent to retrieve the little bag, and smiled embarrassed thanks as they handed back her scattered belongings. Someone brought over a pound coin that had rolled right into the middle of the room, another person found her comb. Thank goodness she hadn’t had anything really embarrassing in the bag!

‘I think that’s everything,’ she said, straightening, and turned to thank the man who had bumped into her for his help, and to assure him that there was no harm done, really.

‘Except for this.’ P.J. stood up with the Swahili phrase book in his hand, a strange expression on his face.

Nell’s heart sank at the sight of it. In all the confusion, for a minute there she had forgotten how odd the phrase book would look.

A smile hovered around P.J.’s mouth. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still trying to learn Swahili, Nell?’

‘No…I…I’m just lending it to John.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. He’s…um…thinking about a holiday in Kenya.’ Nell improvised as best she could, but it didn’t sound very convincing even to her own ears.

‘Really?’ P.J. smiled at her, a smile that evaporated the air in her lungs and made her pulse ring in her ears.

‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly, unable to think of anything else to say.

She wished P.J. would give her the book, but he was flicking through the pages. ‘Habarigani…how are you? Remember that? We used to practise it all the time.’

‘Not as often as we practised “two cold beers, please,’” said Nell, trying to make light of it, but her heart was thumping with memories.

P.J. screwed up his face and held up his hand. ‘Hold on…nataka beer mbili, baridi sana,’ he said triumphantly after a moment. ‘You see, I remember!’

‘I’m impressed,’ she said. ‘I would never have been able to remember that.’

‘I remember everything.’ His voice changed. ‘I remember how to say “I love you,” too. Nakupenda sana. I would have said that to you every day.’

Treacherous tears pricked at Nell’s eyes, and she bent her head, pretending to check that the bag was properly closed this time. ‘It’s all a long time ago,’ she managed after a moment.

‘Sixteen years,’ said P.J. ‘Remember what plans we had? We were going to do all the game parks, and climb Kilimanjaro and swim in the Indian Ocean…and then there was Zanzibar… Didn’t we talk about driving across the Sahara at one time, when getting on a plane seemed too tame?’

‘We must have been mad,’ said Nell, resisting the lure of the memories with a physical effort. ‘When you think about it now, it seems totally unrealistic.’

‘We were young,’ said P.J. gently. ‘Don’t you ever wish you could still be that unrealistic?’

Nell nodded sadly. She had had enough reality over the last few years. ‘You can’t recapture that feeling though. You’re never that young again.’

‘It doesn’t mean you have to give up on dreams,’ he said.

‘No, but it’s easier to be realistic in the long run.’ Nell bit her lip. ‘It’s less disappointing that way.’

P.J. closed the phrase book and handed it back to her. ‘Did you ever go to Africa?’

‘No.’ Nell shook her head.

Simon wouldn’t even consider an adventure holiday. They had always gone to expensive resorts where the rooms were air-conditioned and the plumbing always worked and the pool was carefully filtered. Nell had used to suggest going out to see something of the country they were in, but Simon had never been interested. ‘We’re here to relax, Nell,’ he would say exasperatedly. ‘It’s all right for you, but I’ve been working flat out for months.’

Nell pushed the memory aside. ‘What about you?’

‘I went to Tanzania once a few years ago.’

‘Was it as wonderful?’ she asked, trying to keep the envy out of her voice.

‘It was beautiful,’ P.J. said slowly. ‘Even more so than we imagined.’

But he hadn’t really enjoyed it being there without her. He had found himself watching the sunset and thinking about Nell and what it would have been like if they’d come together as they’d planned.

He had never asked for two cold beers in Swahili. Marian was strictly a champagne and cocktails girl, who wouldn’t touch beer and who complained about the heat and the insects and the lack of any decent shops. The whole holiday had been disastrous. It had certainly spelt the end of that relationship.

‘I’m glad,’ said Nell. ‘We spent so much time dreaming about that trip, it would have been a shame if neither of us had gone.’

‘Yes, a shame,’ P.J. agreed, and their eyes met for a brief moment before Nell’s slid awkwardly away.

She was having trouble breathing again, and the silence lengthened as she tried desperately to think of something to say. She had the strangest sensation of being trapped in a bubble, isolated somehow from the chatter and the crowds that surrounded them, so that there was only P.J. and the silence and the memories that clamoured and jangled between them.

She had to break out, to get away from the bittersweet knowledge of what might have been.

‘I…I haven’t met any of the other members of your team yet,’ she said at last with an edge of desperation. ‘Perhaps you could introduce me?’

P.J. didn’t move. ‘Eve’s busy chatting them all up.’

‘I should go and join her, then.’ Nell could hear the tell-tale huskiness in her voice and cleared her throat. ‘That’s what I’m here for, after all.’

‘I think Eve would prefer you to stay right where you are,’ he said with a lazy smile. ‘She’ll think you’re doing a good job of sucking up to the boss.’

In a strange way, Nell was grateful to him for making her cross. ‘I wasn’t aware that I had been sucking up,’ she said tightly.

‘You haven’t-but there’s no need for Eve to know that, is there?’

‘Then what was the point of making me come here tonight?’

P.J. feigned surprise. ‘I didn’t make you do anything, did I? I merely invited you for a glass of free champagne.’

‘Yes, knowing perfectly well that I was in no position to refuse,’ said Nell, deliberately feeding her anger, which was so much easier to deal with than the memories. ‘Never mind that I’ve got a date tonight, which you also knew perfectly well!’ She looked at her watch. ‘And now I’m going to be late!’

CHAPTER NINE

‘I’M SURE John will understand,’ said P.J. ‘Why don’t you give him a call and tell him you’ll be a little late?’

Nell bit her lip. There was no way she was going to admit now that John was a blind date and that the only way she could contact him was to depend on him recognising her Swahili phrase book.

P.J. had picked up her mobile from the floor, so she could hardly claim that she had no way of getting in touch. And even if she did, he would probably just offer her his phone.

‘He doesn’t have a mobile,’ she said, driven into a corner.

P.J. looked surprised. ‘He doesn’t? Why not?’

‘He thinks they’re an intrusion,’ Nell improvised and then was vexed with herself for making the blameless John sound so boring. For all she knew, John had the latest technology coming out of his ears. ‘Anyway, I’m sure he’ll wait, but I’d better get going…’

‘Where are you meeting him?’

‘At Covent Garden.’

‘In a restaurant?’

‘No, in a bar-not that it’s any business of yours!’

‘Which one?’

‘Look, what’s with the interrogation?’ demanded Nell, ruffled.

P.J. held up his hands. ‘No interrogation. It’s just that I’m on my way to Covent Garden myself. I could give you a lift.’

‘There’s really no need,’ she began, but P.J. interrupted her.

‘I insist,’ he said. ‘As you’ve just pointed out, it’s my fault that you’re late, so it’s the least I can do.’

‘I’ll take the tube,’ said Nell stiffly, distrusting his motives. ‘It will be easier.’

‘In those shoes?’ P.J. nodded down at her feet. You didn’t need to be an aficionado of footwear to realise that those delicate straps and elegant heels weren’t meant for walking. ‘You know how far you have to walk along the tunnels underground, and I didn’t see a spare pair of shoes in that bag. It wouldn’t do that ankle of yours any good.’

That was unanswerable. This was Thea’s fault, Nell thought vengefully.

‘I wouldn’t have had to walk at all if you hadn’t made me come here,’ she grumbled, falling back on accusation. ‘I haven’t met a single one of your precious team and I’m just as much in the dark about your famous company culture as I was this afternoon! It’s been a complete waste of time.’

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ said P.J., and the undercurrent of amusement in his voice made Nell look at him sharply.

‘What on earth was the point of inviting me, then?’

‘I wanted to see you again,’ he said simply. ‘You wouldn’t have dinner with me, and getting you to come along this evening was the best I could think of on the spur of the moment.’

‘P.J…’ Nell wrenched her gaze away from the dancing blue depths. Couldn’t he see how impossible it would be? ‘I…I’d better go,’ she stammered, looking around for somewhere to put down her glass.

‘Yes, you mustn’t keep John waiting any longer,’ P.J. agreed affably. ‘Here, let me take that glass.’ As if by magic, a waiter materialised at his side and he put the glasses on the tray with a nod of thanks before turning back to Nell. ‘Ready?’

‘Really, I’ll be fine…’

‘Nell, I’m just an old friend offering you a lift,’ said P.J. patiently. ‘What’s the harm in that?’

None, if she could think of him as just an old friend. But he could never be that to her now. The current of awareness still ran between them too strongly for that.

‘What about everyone here?’ She hung back, gesturing around the crowded room.

‘What about them?’

‘I thought you were sponsoring this event. Won’t they miss you?’

‘It’s nothing to do with me,’ said P.J., unconcerned. ‘I don’t even get to sign the cheques anymore. It’s a corporate affair, and I’m just invited along with everyone else. Anyway, I’ve got a date myself.’

‘Oh.’ Nell was horrified at the wave of sickening jealousy that engulfed her.

‘That’s why I’m on my way to Covent Garden,’ he explained, flipping open a tiny mobile phone and pressing a button. ‘I’m meeting her there.’

‘Oh,’ said Nell again in a hollow voice.

‘Come on, let’s go.’

There was no point in arguing any further. One warm hand on her elbow, P.J. propelled her firmly through the crowd, nodding and smiling at various people, but stopping for no one.

By the time they made it to the entrance, his car was already waiting. The driver got out, and handed the keys to P.J. before vanishing discreetly.

‘Very convenient,’ said Nell, trying to recover some of her earlier combative spirit.

‘Isn’t it?’ said P.J. cheerfully as he opened the door for her. ‘I just buzz him when I’m ready to leave, and he has the car waiting for me outside.’

‘It must be nice never to have to worry about parking tickets.’

‘One of the bonuses of being a billionaire,’ he agreed with a sidelong grin, and got in beside her.

Something had changed, Nell thought suspiciously, eyeing him under her lashes as he slotted the key into the ignition. He had been unusually prickly earlier, almost unpleasant when he was needling her about John, and it had crossed her mind that he might even have been jealous, but there was no sign of that tension now. His normal good humour was completely restored. She could see it in the curve of his mouth and in the glint of his eyes, hear it in the undercurrent of teasing laughter in his voice. He seemed almost…elated was the only word that sprang to mind.

He was obviously looking forward to his evening, and why not? There was no reason for P.J. to dread his date the way she was dreading hers.

The news that P.J. was dating someone had left Nell with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt ridiculous. All that fuss she had made about the need to resist him! She had been so sure that he too was conscious of the surge and crackle of awareness between them, and she had been afraid that he would try and resurrect their relationship. Now it turned out that she could have spared herself the effort of worrying about it all!

P.J. hadn’t mentioned anyone, so she had just assumed that he didn’t have a girlfriend, but she should have known better. Of course a man like P.J. would have someone special in his life.

He had said that he wanted to see her, though, Nell reminded herself. But then, what did that mean? He might simply want to catch up on old times. It didn’t mean that he wanted to pick up where they had left off sixteen years ago, did it?

And now he had a date. P.J. was strictly a one-woman man, so obviously she really was just an old friend as far as P.J. was concerned. She ought to be pleased, Nell thought mournfully. Wasn’t it exactly what she had decided herself? She had been determined not to let him back into her life, and now it looked as if she wouldn’t have to. Everything was perfect.

Everything being perfect should have made things easier, but instead Nell felt even more awkward than before.

‘So…are you meeting someone nice?’ she managed at last.

‘Oh, yes,’ said P.J. and turned to smile his heart-stopping smile. ‘She’s the nicest person I know. And the most beautiful,’ he added.

‘She sounds lovely.’ Nell fixed on an answering smile so bright it made her jaw ache. ‘Lucky you.’

‘I hope so.’

She turned slightly in her seat to look at him in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m not sure how she feels about me,’ said P.J. carefully.

She was probably head over heels in love with him, thought Nell. How could she not be?

‘You should ask her,’ she said. That was the kind of advice one old friend gave to another, wasn’t it?

P.J. seemed very interested in her opinion. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘Of course.’ Nell managed a careless shrug, as if it didn’t make any difference to her one way or another. ‘At least then you’ll know where you are.’

‘But what if she tells me she doesn’t love me?’

Inside Nell, it felt as if a cold hand were clamped around her heart, squeezing it so painfully that it was hard to breathe. ‘It’s better if you’re both honest about how you feel, isn’t it?’ she managed.

‘That’s the thing,’ said P.J. ‘I don’t think she has been entirely honest with me so far.’

‘Why not?’

‘She’s been hurt,’ he said slowly. ‘She doesn’t trust me.’

‘Perhaps she doesn’t trust herself,’ said Nell, concentrating on breathing in and out and on not thinking about the pain in her heart at the knowledge of how deeply P.J. loved the new woman in his life.

P.J. glanced at her thoughtfully. ‘I think you might be right, Nell,’ he said. ‘How can I make her trust me, though?’

Nell’s throat hurt with the effort of not crying. ‘You need to be patient, that’s all.’

‘It’s hard being patient,’ he said.

‘I know, but if you really love her, she’s worth it, isn’t she?’ Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and she looked fiercely out of the passenger window.

‘Oh, yes,’ said P.J. ‘She’s worth everything.’

Nell couldn’t see his expression, but she could hear the warmth and the tenderness in his voice, and the cruel grip on her heart tightened, but she made herself swallow and take a deep breath.

‘I’m so glad you’ve found someone you can love like that, P.J.,’ she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. ‘I hope it works out for you.’

‘I hope so, too,’ he said. He glanced at her. ‘And thanks for your advice, Nell. That’s helped me a lot.’

‘Good.’ Nell’s smile wavered a little, but she forced it back into place. ‘I’m really happy for you.’

But she didn’t feel happy. She felt desolate at the thought of him loving someone else.

Why had he come back? She had been fine on her own, Nell thought bitterly. She had been bumbling along with Clara, missing having someone to hold sometimes, wishing there were someone to hold her when times were hard, but on the whole…she was OK. More than OK. She had been happy. Happyish, anyway.

And now P.J. had spoilt that. He had made her think about how empty her life was beyond Clara. He had made the future seem bleak and lonely, where before it had simply been more of the same. It had taken her years to bury her memories of him, but a single day to bring them all back. It was like waking up to find a dream being dangled tantalisingly in front of her, only to vanish the moment she thought about reaching for it and making it real, and now she felt sick with disappointment and yearning.

And these might be the last few minutes she would have with him, Nell realised with a spurt of panic. He had a new woman in his life, and there would be no reason for them to meet again.

She longed to touch P.J. one more time. She wanted to reach over and put her hand on his thigh, to lean across and press her lips to his throat. She wanted to make him stop and pull the car over and kiss her. She wanted to roll back time, to go back sixteen years and have her chance again, and this time she wouldn’t blow it. She would make the right choice.

But there was no going back, was there? Time only went one way.

The silence was excruciating. Nell was afraid that P.J. would hear her heart thumping, and the pounding of her pulse as she clutched her hands around the little bag to keep them from crawling across to him. The traffic was very heavy, and the journey seemed to take forever.

By the time they got to Trafalgar Square, Nell could stand it no longer.

‘I think it’ll be quicker for me if I walk from here,’ she said as the traffic light turned red once more.

‘But what about your feet?’ P.J. asked in concern. ‘It’s still quite a walk from here in those shoes.’

‘They’ll be fine,’ Nell insisted. ‘It’s not that far now, and I don’t want to keep John waiting any longer.’

‘Well, if you’re sure…’

Nell didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry when P.J. made no further protest. His mind was obviously on the evening to come and the woman he loved.

‘I’m sure.’ She undid her seat belt with hands that trembled slightly and reached for the door handle. ‘I hope you won’t be late for your own date.’

P.J. glanced at his watch. ‘I think she’ll understand if I’m a few minutes late,’ he said, and a smile touched the corners of his mouth in a way that made Nell’s heart clench. ‘Anyone can see what the traffic is like tonight. You might even find that you get to your bar before John,’ he added. ‘But I’m sure that won’t be a problem. He sounds like a guy worth waiting for.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Nell, wishing she had never embarked on the whole John fantasy. Still, it was too late to put P.J. right now. ‘Yes, he is.’

She opened the door. ‘Well, good luck with everything,’ she said, as casually as she could.

‘You, too.’

The lights would change if she didn’t get on with it. It was all Nell could do to get out of the car and fix on a bright smile as she closed the door and bent to say goodbye through the open window. ‘Thanks again for the lift.’

P.J. smiled. ‘Goodbye, Nell,’ he said softly.

At the last moment, Nell’s brave smile slipped. ‘Goodbye,’ she said, a treacherous wobble in her voice, and she turned quickly and made herself walk away before he could see the tears in her eyes.

She was limping badly by the time she made it to the bar where she was to meet John, but in a strange way it was almost a comfort to concentrate on the pain in her feet rather than on the pain in her heart.

Never had she felt less like a blind date! The thought of sitting and trying to be friendly and interested in a man who, however nice he was, wasn’t P.J. made Nell feel more miserable than ever, but she was here now, and it wouldn’t be fair to John to just leave him sitting there.

The fairest thing would be to tell him straight that she was in love with somebody else, she realised. There was no point in pretending anything else. Thea would be cross with her, but if John was as nice as her sister had said, he would understand. He would probably rather be told the truth. Hadn’t she told P.J. that it was better to be honest about how you felt?

Nell looked at her watch. After all of that, she wasn’t as late as she had thought. Pushing open the door, she went in and hesitated just inside, looking around for anyone who looked as if he might be called John. The bar wasn’t too busy, and there were only two men there on their own, neither of whom looked old enough to be John. Nell tried not to look as if she was staring as she walked past the tables where they were sitting, but there was no sign of a Swahili dictionary, and, anyway, neither of them appeared to be looking for her.

The traffic was bad, though, as P.J. had pointed out. Maybe John was stuck somewhere. She had better give him a chance to turn up, anyway.

Choosing a seat where she could be seen from the door, Nell ordered herself a glass of wine and carefully put the Swahili phrase book in full view on the table in front of her. She would give John half an hour, and then she would go.

Normally Nell would have felt very conspicuous at being so obviously waiting for a blind date, but right then she didn’t care about anything other than the fact that she had just said goodbye to P.J. again. How was she going to bear it?

For something to do, she picked up the phrase book and studied it dully, but it was too full of the memories that P.J. had brought back so vividly. She thought about the good times they had had, the dreams they had dreamed together, and just for a moment she let herself imagine what it would have been like if she hadn’t chosen Simon.

But she had, and she had to take responsibility for that. Nobody had made her choose him, she had done that herself. She had made a mistake, and she had to live with it. In so many ways she was lucky, Nell reminded herself. Clara was healthy and happy. She had loving family and friends, a place to live, and a good job.

She just didn’t have P.J.

Well, she had managed without him before and she would manage without him again…but, oh, it was going to be so much harder now. In spite of her determination to keep up a good face, a tear trickled down Nell’s nose and she brushed it angrily away just as a Swahili dictionary was laid quietly on the table in front of her.

CHAPTER TEN

‘I’M SORRY I’m late.’

Nell stared at the hand on the dictionary, riveted by the whiteness of the cuff against brown skin, by the gleam of gold cufflinks and the fine dark hairs at the broad male wrist. Very, very slowly, her stunned grey gaze travelled up the sleeve of the dinner jacket, along the shoulder and up at last to the face that went with the voice.

P.J.

Still in thrall to utter disbelief, she dropped her eyes down to the dictionary as if to confirm it was what she thought it was, and then lifted them back to his face.

‘You?’ she whispered.

‘Peter John,’ P.J. reminded her. He pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her. ‘Janey and Thea decided you wouldn’t come if you knew it was me, so they used my second name instead.’

Nell sat mouse-still, staring at him like an owl, hardly daring to believe what was happening, and too stunned to understand anything beyond the fact that suddenly, miraculously, he was there. She felt almost frightened, as if she had conjured him up by the power of her longing and he weren’t quite real.

‘I thought I was coming to meet someone called Helen,’ P.J. went on, more unnerved by her silence than he wanted to admit. ‘Why didn’t I know that about you? I didn’t realise Nell was an abbreviation of Helen, although I know that’s not why you’re called Nell…’

He could hear himself burbling nervously and made himself stop. ‘I’m talking too much,’ he acknowledged, and looked straight into Nell’s beautiful grey eyes. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked simply.

‘Mind?’ echoed Nell, although the word came out as barely more than a croak.

‘That it’s me, instead of another John?’

The uncertainty in his expression broke the spell that held Nell motionless. This wasn’t a dream. This was a real man, unsure of himself after all, and she gave something between a laugh and a sob, and shook her head.

‘No,’ she said, smiling through the tears that brimmed her eyes, ‘I don’t mind.’

P.J. reached out and took her hands in his, holding them tightly across the table in a warm, firm grasp. ‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘Part of me was afraid that you would be angry.’

‘I should be,’ said Nell, but fingers were twining round his. ‘But not with you. I presume this is Thea and Janey’s doing?’

‘They set it up between them, apparently. After they got in touch on that internet site, Janey couldn’t wait to tell Thea her favourite theory about me.’

‘What theory is that?’

‘The one that says that I’d never got over you,’ said P.J. with a rueful smile. ‘Ever since I came back to London, and she discovered from Thea that you were divorced, Janey’s been going on and on at me to get in touch with you, but I was afraid of raking up the past. I thought it would be better to leave things as they were…and then I saw you this morning, and I realised that Janey had been right all along, which of course she’s absolutely delighted about!’

Nell couldn’t help laughing at his expression. ‘Thea will be unbearable, too. She’s been doing the same thing. Why didn’t I contact you? Why didn’t I give you a ring and just say hello? You can imagine! And the more she talked about you, the more I refused to see you.’

‘Were you anxious about the past, too?’ asked P.J., and she thought about it a while.

‘That was part of it, of course, but mainly I was really intimidated because I’d heard that you were so rich and successful. It just seemed like we had different lives now and that it would be better to keep them that way.’

‘I know what you mean,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘It’s as if we’ve been on separate paths, that have gone off in different directions, and twisted and turned, but still somehow been meant to bring us back together today. We’ll let our sisters think it was down to them, but, really, I think we’d have met anyway. I think that was the way it was meant to be.’

‘I wonder,’ said Nell, thinking about what he had said. ‘Certainly the first two meetings today had nothing to do with Thea or Janey, did they?’

‘No, and the third time was me deciding to take a hand in my own affairs,’ said P.J. with a grin. ‘I thought fate had done enough and it was up to me to get you back-although, as it turned out, I could have left it to my sister!’

Nell smiled, and he released her hands at last. She took a sip of her wine, conscious of the tension slowly trickling away from her spine and her shoulders. ‘When did you know that it was me you were meeting tonight?’

‘Not until you dropped your bag. All Janey would tell me about the blind date she’d set me up on was that I was to meet a divorced friend of hers called-she said-Helen, who was very nice and I’d know her because she’d have a Swahili phrase book with her. When I saw that it had fallen out of your bag, I felt…’

P.J. trailed off, trying to find the right words to explain how everything had suddenly fallen into place, and the world had lifted from his shoulders. ‘I can’t describe how I felt.’ He gave up at last. ‘When I dropped you at Trafalgar Square, I rang Janey and asked her straight out if it was you I was supposed to be meeting, and she confessed.’

‘Why on earth didn’t they just tell us?’ grumbled Nell.

‘I think they thought that we would bottle out if we knew what they were planning.’

‘I probably would have done,’ she conceded reluctantly, ‘but at least it might have saved me making a colossal fool of myself! I’m going to kill Thea when I see her! You must have thought I was an idiot, pretending that I’d found the perfect man in John!’

‘I’m just relieved that he’s turned out to be me, to be honest,’ said P.J. with a crooked smile. ‘The thought of him gave me some bad moments! I was pretty jealous of him.’

Nell put down her glass in surprise. ‘Surely you guessed that he wasn’t real?’

‘Only after I saw the phrase book. He sounded so perfect, so exactly what you wanted. I had no reason to believe that he wasn’t real.’

She flushed, remembering the fibs she had told. ‘I don’t know why I made up all that about him,’ she said, twisting the stem of the glass between her fingers. ‘I suppose I didn’t want you to think that I was just a sad divorcee.’

It was P.J.’s turn to look surprised. ‘There was no chance of that, Nell! Why on earth would I think that? There you were, with a lovely daughter, a good job and-it seemed-a great man. It looked to me as if you had your life under perfect control.’

‘Whereas in fact I’m chaotic and clumsy, with daughter who bosses me around and an imaginary lover,’ said Nell, amused at the very idea of her having her life under control. If only!

‘I know better now,’ P.J. agreed solemnly. ‘I’ll admit it was a relief to discover that you weren’t quite as perfect as you seemed at first.’ Smiling, he lifted his hand to trace the line of her cheek with infinite tenderness. ‘Although you’ll always be pretty perfect to me,’ he said softly.

‘Oh, P.J…’ Sudden tears trembled on Nell’s lashes. ‘How can you say that when I hurt you so much? I was so stupid about Simon,’ she told him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I hurt you, too,’ he pointed out gently. ‘I should have paid you more attention when you needed it. I was too busy thinking about the future when I should have been listening to you and what you wanted in the present.’

Reaching for her hand, he closed his fingers around hers firmly. ‘That’s the thing about relationships. It takes two to make it, two to break it. It wasn’t just you, Nell. At least you were honest with me. You told me as soon as you realised that you were attracted to Simon, and that must have taken guts. It didn’t help that I went off the deep end. If I’d been older, I might have stuck it out, and given you some space to think about things instead of ending it all there and then.’

‘I was such a fool. I had no idea how lucky I was.’ A single tear wobbled over Nell’s lashes and trickled down the side of her nose until P.J. wiped it away tenderly with his thumb.

‘Nell, it was a long time ago.’

‘I just wish I could do it all again better.’

‘But then you wouldn’t have Clara, and I wouldn’t have my company. The last sixteen years haven’t been all bad, have they?’

‘No,’ Nell had to agree, thinking of her daughter.

‘I have missed you, though,’ P.J. confessed.

‘For sixteen years?’ She smiled, still a little tearfully. ‘I don’t believe you’ve been pining all that time!’

‘I wouldn’t say I’d been pining exactly,’ he admitted. ‘I haven’t been unhappy, and there have been women, yes. But none of them were you, Nell. Another of Janey’s theories is that all my girlfriends looked like you, and that I spent my time trying to find a substitute for you. She thinks that’s why my relationships never came to anything. I wanted them to, but subconsciously maybe I was comparing them to you.’

He smiled and shook his head. ‘The crazy thing is that if you’d told me yesterday that that was what I felt-as Janey always did-I would have insisted that it wasn’t true, but all I had to do was look at you this morning, in your old jogging suit and trainers, and I knew that I had loved you all along.

‘I went straight into work and rang Janey and tried to get out of the date she’d set me up on tonight, but she wouldn’t let me. I should have guessed what she was up to, but I didn’t. I thought I was going to have to spend the evening making polite small talk with a divorcee when all I wanted was to be with you.

‘Janey was right.’ Still holding her hand, P.J. looked deep into Nell’s grey eyes. ‘It’s only ever been you, Nell. You’re my one and only, just like they used to say. Being near you again was like coming home for me. I was so desperate to see you again, and it was a real blow when you said you didn’t want to see me.’

Nell tightened her fingers around his. ‘I was afraid,’ she said honestly, and his brows drew together slightly.

‘Of me?’

‘Of the way you made me feel,’ she said. ‘I’m like you. I’ve spent sixteen years telling myself I’d forgotten you, and then a couple of weeks ago Thea mentioned your name… Since then I’ve been remembering, and regretting, and just wanting something I knew couldn’t have.’ Her smile twisted. ‘I’m not sure what it was. I think probably I just wanted to be that confident and certain again. I wanted to be loved the way you used to love me.’

‘Then why not have dinner with me when I asked you this morning?’

Nell sighed. ‘I don’t know… It all just seemed too difficult somehow. We were different people, and I thought everything had changed, but the more I saw of you today, the more it seemed that nothing had changed at all, and that made it even worse!

‘I told myself that it would be easier if I didn’t get involved, that it would be better to draw a line under the past again, all of that. I did my best to resist,’ she told him as if he had accused her of not making enough of an effort to forget him. ‘It didn’t do any good, but I couldn’t admit that deep down I wanted to see you again desperately. I was afraid you would think that I only loved you for your money now.’

‘Do you?’ asked P.J. urgently.

‘Of course not!’

His grip on her hands tightened. ‘No…I mean, do you love me?’

Nell let her eyes rest on the familiar, exciting lines of his face, seeing there the boy who had loved her, the man who loved her still, and her heart swelled with happiness.

‘Yes, I do.’ It was such a relief to be able to say it at last. ‘I know it’s crazy when we’ve only been back together a day, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Not loving you, letting myself forget you… It was like losing part of me, and, this morning, it seemed as if I had found it again.’

‘That’s how I feel, too.’ The smile that had started in P.J.’s eyes when she’d told him that she loved him spread over his face, and the strength of his feeling seemed to reverberate through the touch of his hands all the way up Nell’s arm. ‘I love you, too, Nell. I’ve always loved you. There’s been a bit missing from me, ever since we’ve been apart, and you’re the only person who can put it back.’

‘P.J…’ At the look in his eyes, the air evaporated from Nell’s lungs.

‘Come here,’ he said softly, leaning forward and pulling her towards him so that he could kiss her across the table.

The touch of his lips unlocked a torrent of emotion in Nell. It cascaded through her, a joyous blend of relief and release, of pleasure and promise, of excitement and the sheer exhilaration of loving and being loved. She had forgotten what a wonderful feeling that was, and she kissed him back with a kind of desperation, needing to show him how he made her feel.

‘Let’s go.’ P.J.’s voice was ragged as they broke the kiss at last. ‘I can’t kiss you properly here.’

Nell’s bones were liquid with desire, but somehow she got to her feet, belatedly remembering her bag and the phrase book. ‘My wine…’ she said, groping for some money.

‘Here.’ Too impatient to bother about change, P.J. tucked a ten-pound note under her glass. Picking up his dictionary, he took a firm hold of Nell with his other hand and they practically ran for the door.

They could hardly wait until they were outside. P.J. pulled her into the nearest doorway and they kissed hungrily.

This time there was no table between them, and it felt so good to be able to put her arms round him at last, to cling to the glorious granite strength of his body, to hold him and touch him and smell the deliciously clean male scent of his skin. Nell couldn’t kiss him long enough, hold him close enough, and it was only the need to breathe that made her break away at last and rest her face against his throat with a long, shuddering sigh of contentment.

P.J. smiled into her hair as he held her. ‘We could do without all these bags and books,’ he pretended to grumble. ‘They’re hampering my style!’

‘It would be nice to have two hands,’ Nell agreed, laughing. ‘Let’s find somewhere to sit.’

They wandered round the busy piazza in search of a bench, but ended up sitting on some stone steps. At least they could put down the books, and hold each other properly.

‘It feels like being teenagers again, doesn’t it?’ said P.J. as Nell nestled into the circle of his arm. ‘Trying to find somewhere to kiss where no one would walk in on us-particularly your mother!’

Nell smiled, but then sobered at the realisation that they weren’t in fact teenagers anymore. ‘I wish things could be as simple as they were then,’ she said wistfully.

‘I love you and you love me,’ he said. ‘It seems simple enough to me.’

‘But it isn’t, is it? There’s Clara to think about.’

‘Of course.’ P.J. turned to look down into Nell’s face, and he frowned at her worried expression. ‘You don’t think it will be a problem for her, do you?’

Nell thought about what Clara had said about P.J. ‘To be honest, I think she’ll be delighted. She worries about me being on my own, and she liked you. She thought you had smiley eyes.’

She shook her head. ‘No, Clara won’t mind…but will you? I don’t exactly come unencumbered. I’m not the same person I was before, P.J. I’ve got all the emotional baggage of a nasty divorce, and a child who takes up a lot of my attention. Clara’s fantastic, but it’s not always easy.’

She sighed. ‘I wish we could just pick up where we left off, but I don’t see how we can do that.’

‘We can’t, but we can start again, can’t we?’ P.J. took her hand and turned it over, running his finger over the veins and the faint beginnings of fine lines. ‘I did love you in the past, Nell, and it’s true that I carried a dream of you all these years, but I’m not in love with a memory. Clara is part of who you are now, and that’s the you I love. I don’t want you the way you were, because I’m not the way I was then either.’

Gently, he touched the edges of her eyes. ‘I want the Nell who’s older and wiser and has laughter lines around her eyes and wears sensible shoes to walk to work.’

And he drew her close and kissed her again, and Nell felt her last doubts dissolve. ‘Marry me, Nell,’ he said. ‘Marry me, and we’ll take Clara to Africa with us on our honeymoon. Let’s do all the things we always dreamed of doing, but let’s do them together this time.’

Nell drew back slightly, her eyes intent as she looked at him. Like her, he was older, a little bit battered around the edges, but he was still P.J. She loved the boy he had been, and she loved the man he had become, and it was hard to believe how lucky she was. Against all the odds, she had been given a second chance, and she had to grasp it with both hands.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘let’s do that,’ and she smiled back at him as he pulled her towards him to seal their promise with a long, sweet kiss.

It was much later when a yawn caught Nell by surprise, and P.J. hauled her to her feet. ‘It’s time I took you home,’ he said as they laughed ruefully at the stiffness of their definitely non-adolescent bones after sitting still on the stone steps for so long. ‘It’s been a long day.’

‘It’s been an incredible day,’ said Nell, rubbing her bottom, weary but ballooning with happiness. ‘I can’t believe how much has happened,’ she marvelled. ‘Twenty-four hours ago, I couldn’t have imagined meeting you again, loving you again, actually agreeing to marry you again, and yet, here we are, just a day later, and my life has changed utterly and completely.’

P.J. smiled and put his arm around her to lead her back to the car and take her home. ‘Sometimes a day is all it takes,’ he said.