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a muffled exchange, and other footsteps, lighter ones this time, before the phone was picked up once more.

      ‘Mum?’

      ‘Tom!’ Jaime could barely articulate his name. She swallowed convulsively. ‘Tom, what are you doing there?’

      ‘Oh, Mum.’ Tom sounded sheepish, and Jaime’s nerves tightened. What did Tom have to be sheepish about? He couldn’t help being attracted by so much wealth. ‘Mum, I’m sorry.’

      Jaime drew a steadying breath. ‘There’s no need to be sorry, Tom,’ she said evenly. ‘Naturally, I’m disappointed that you’ve missed an afternoon’s school. Still, it’s only half a day. I dare say you can make it up tomorrow.’

      ‘You don’t mind my coming here, then?’ Tom was obviously anxious, and Jaime was reassured. So long as Tom cared about her feelings, she had nothing to worry about.

      ‘Well,’ she murmured now, wondering whether Ben was eavesdropping on their conversation, ‘I don’t suppose you could refuse. Did—er—did Uncle Ben meet you from school?’

      ‘No.’ Tom sounded puzzled now. ‘No, he didn’t even know I was coming, did he?’

       Didn’t he?

      Jaime had to sit down then. She groped her way to the foot of the stairs, and sank down weakly on to one of the lower treads. What was Tom saying? That he had gone to Ben’s house uninvited?

      ‘I—I think you’d better explain what happened,’ she managed, after a few moments. ‘Are you saying that you—that you decided to play truant?’

      ‘Kids don’t play truant these days, Mum,’ muttered Tom, a little sulkily. ‘They skive off—or they split!’

      ‘Thank you. But I don’t require a lesson in semantics, Tom,’ retorted Jaime shortly, and as a justifiable anger began to replace the panic inside her she added, ‘How dare you go there without my permission?’

      Tom sniffed. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

      ‘What do you mean, it wasn’t like that? You’ve just told me you—you abandoned school, and that—that Uncle Ben wasn’t expecting you.’

      ‘I know.’ Tom’s reply was defensive. ‘But I didn’t intend to come to the house. I—just wanted to see where it was, that’s all.’

      Jaime breathed deeply. ‘So? What happened?’

      ‘Uncle Ben saw me.’

      ‘He saw you?’

      ‘Yes.’ Tom hesitated. ‘He—I—I was outside the gates, when he drove in.’

      ‘I see.’ Jaime tried to keep a lid on her temper. ‘And he recognised you, of course.’

      ‘Well—I waved,’ muttered Tom lamely, and Jaime closed her eyes against the visions that his words evoked. Ben turning into the gates of the Priory, and Tom trying madly to attract his attention. God! And she had virtually accused Ben of kidnapping! No wonder he had put the phone down on her.

      ‘I think you’d better put—Uncle Ben back on the phone,’ Jaime declared now, steeling herself for another confrontation. ‘And I think you should come home. Right away.’

      ‘Oh, Mum!’

      ‘Just put Ben—Uncle Ben back on, will you? Anything I have to say to you can wait until you get home.’

      ‘But I want to go swimming!’

      ‘Not today, Tom. Now, let me speak to—to your uncle.’

      Once again, the phone was laid down, this time rather less considerately, and she heard the exchange of feet on the bare floor. Tiles? she wondered inconsequentially, and then dashed the insidious thought. She had absolutely no interest in how Ben Russell had restored the Priory. She was only concerned with its occupant, and the effect he was having on her family.

      The phone was lifted, and once again Ben came on the line. ‘Washed your mouth out with soap?’ he queried laconically, and Jaime was so relieved he wasn’t angry with her that a nervous laugh escaped her.

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘No problem.’ Ben was unperturbed. ‘I just thought you might get worried if he didn’t arrive home from school at the usual time.’

      ‘Well, I would have, of course.’ Jaime had her incipient hysteria under control now, and she was able to think of other things. ‘How—how did you know I was here?’

      ‘I looked in my crystal ball.’ Ben’s tone was dry. ‘How do you think? I phoned your office, and the receptionist told me you’d gone home. She said you weren’t feeling well. Are you all right?’

      ‘Oh—yes.’ Jaime wasn’t concerned about her own condition right now. With luck, the receptionist wouldn’t have asked who he was, so Felix was unlikely to hear about it. ‘Um—I’m sorry if Tom’s disrupted your afternoon. I had no idea he might—well, I’ll speak to him myself, when he gets home.

      ‘As I say, it’s no problem.’ Ben was infuriatingly casual. ‘He was curious to see where I lived. I can understand that.’

      Yes, you would! thought Jaime tautly, willing herself not to say anything that might jeopardise her chances of getting Tom home again unscathed. At least, now, she had some idea of what she was up against, so far as her son was concerned. Whatever he said, Tom wasn’t going to ignore his relationship to the Russells. That was blatantly obvious.

      ‘Well, I think you’d better send him home—right away,’ she declared now, trying hard to sound reasonable. ‘The—the bus from Nettleford to Kingsmere passes close to the Priory gates. He can get that. He does have some money with him.’

      ‘OK. If that’s what you want.’ If she’d expected an argument from Ben, she was disappointed. ‘I can think of an alternative, but you’re his mother.’

      ‘Yes, I am.’ Jaime’s response came out curter than she could have wished, but she couldn’t help it. She licked her lips. ‘Tell—tell Tom I’ll pick him up at the bus station.’

      There was a moment’s pause, and then Ben said quietly, ‘Why don’t you come and get him yourself?’

      His suggestion was delivered in the same even tone he had used before, and Jaime envied him his ability to hide his feelings so well. For her part, she was left scrabbling for a legitimate excuse.

      ‘I—don’t think so,’ she said at last, not very satisfactorily, and Ben sighed.

      ‘All right.’ As before, he didn’t attempt to try to change her mind. ‘I’ll give Tom your message—–’

      ‘Wait!’

      Jaime realised he intended to ring off, and all of a sudden she was aware of how skilfully he had transferred the responsibility for what happened next to her. He could tell Tom—quite truthfully—that his mother had insisted he go home, and, remembering her son’s attitude over the past weekend, Jaime could imagine how that would be received. It might be what she wanted, but was it really wise to play into Ben’s hands by acting the heavy?

      ‘I—uh—what was your alternative?’ she enquired, through clenched teeth, and had the dubious pleasure of knowing she had disconcerted him for once.

      But Ben was nothing if not resourceful, and he quickly regained his composure. ‘I was going to offer to bring him home myself—later,’ he appended smoothly. ‘After he’s had time to look around—and take a swim.’

      ‘He doesn’t have his swimming shorts,’ Jaime protested at once. It was the first thing that came into her head, but Ben was undeterred.

      ‘There’s only the two of us here, and we’re both male,’ he reminded her mildly. ‘But, if he’s shy, he can borrow a pair of mine. We can fix something.

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