LITMIR.BIZ

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I followed Tara into the street to see where she went. To make sure that she was all right.’ Phoebe stirred her coffee.

      ‘It hasn’t taken Cindy long to get fixed up,’ he said grimly. ‘We only moved down here three weeks ago.’

      Phoebe moved a restive shoulder. ‘I suppose she is allowed a social life.’

      ‘Naturally. She has most weekends off, and usually each evening too. The whole point of moving my business down here was so that I could spend more time with Tara.’

      ‘But I thought—’ Phoebe stopped abruptly.

      ‘What did you think?’

      She drank some coffee. ‘That you’d have to be away a lot on business.’

      ‘Well, it does happen, of course. I was away overnight earlier in the week. But Tara understands, I think. At least I hope she does.’

      I wouldn’t count on that, Phoebe thought. Aloud, she said slowly, ‘She seems very mature for her age. Very self-possessed.’

      ‘In some ways, perhaps.’ He looked down at his cup. ‘She’s had to grow up quickly.’

      ‘Yes.’ She hesitated. ‘It must have been hard on her—losing her mother like that.’

      ‘You make it sound as if she’s been deliberately careless,’ he said lightly.

      Her lips parted in a silent gasp of outrage. She said thickly, ‘I hope you don’t refer to your late wife quite so casually in front of Tara.’

      ‘I try not to refer to her at all,’ he said curtly, his grey eyes scanning her stormy face. ‘And when you talk of my “late” wife, are you referring to Serena’s chronic unpunctuality, or are you under the misapprehension that she’s departed this life?’

      Phoebe nearly spilled her coffee. ‘You mean she isn’t dead?’

      ‘Good God, no,’ he said derisively. ‘Only the good die young, Miss Grant. On that assumption, Serena should outlive all of us.’

      ‘Oh, Lord.’ Phoebe was scarlet with mortification. ‘It’s just that Tara said she didn’t have a mother, and I assumed...’

      Dominic Ashton shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter, and in many ways Tara’s right. Serena and I have been divorced for the past two years, and she’s pursuing her career in California. It was agreed that Tara should remain with me.’

      Phoebe said numbly, ‘Serena Vane—of course—the actress. I should have realised.’

      ‘I thought you did know. After all, you addressed me as Mr Vane when you came bursting in here.’

      Phoebe looked at the floor. ‘I—I’m sorry. That must be very—disagreeable.’

      ‘Extremely,’ he agreed calmly. ‘But during the period of our marriage I became used to it, if not resigned.’

      ‘I saw her in Tess of the D’Urbervilles on television,‘ Phoebe blurted. ‘She was wonderful.’

      ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Acting is what Serena does best. And I don’t blame her for wanting to try her luck in Hollywood.’ He paused. ‘But I didn’t want that life for Tara. Any more than I wanted her to be called that absurd name,’ he added, his mouth twisting. ‘But Serena was convinced, just before the christening, that she was going to be cast as Scarlett O’Hara in some remake of Gone with the Wind that never actually transpired.’

      He swallowed the rest of his coffee and put down the cup. ‘But I suggest we make a joint vow to make no more assumptions. We’re clearly not very good at them. You were convinced that I was an uncaring absentee father, and I assumed that because Cindy was pleasant and came with glowing references that she’d be reliable too.’

      ‘What are you going to do about her?’

      He shrugged. ‘I’ll have to find her first. All her clothes and personal things are still in her room, so I guess she’ll be back, sooner or later.’

      ‘And she left the car in the car park.’ Phoebe paused for a moment, then said diffidently, ‘Perhaps you should phone the local hospitals—and the police. I mean—she could have had an accident.’

      ‘At this precise moment, I’d be glad to hear she’d broken her damned neck. But you’re right. I’ll start ringing round after I’ve taken you back.’

      She said with a touch of desperation, ‘It would save a lot of time and trouble if you’d just get me a taxi.’

      ‘You brought my daughter safely home. I want to do the same for you.’

      Which, of course, was unanswerable, Phoebe thought, gritting her teeth.

      She said, ‘I’d like to say good night to Tara, first, if that’s all right.’

      ‘Of course. Whenever you’re ready.’

      Halfway up the stairs, she began to tremble. What room was Tara going to be in? If it was—that room, then she couldn’t go through with it. But then it wouldn’t be. Then, as now, it would be the master bedroom.

      It was still a relief when they went past the door, Phoebe staring blindly ahead of her. At the far end of the landing, there was another flight of stairs curving away to the left.

      ‘This has always been the nursery suite,’ Dominic Ashton said as he led the way. ‘Cindy’s bedroom is up here too, and a big playroom, and there are two bathrooms, and a kitchenette to make hot drinks and snacks. It’s quite self-contained.’

      Phoebe murmured something indistinguishable.

      Tara was in bed, looking mutinous.

      ‘Carrie said I had to have an early night. But I wanted to come downstairs and play Snakes and Ladders with you and Phoebe.’

      Dominic ruffled her hair. ‘I’m on Carrie’s side. You’ve had enough fun and games for one day, madam.’

      Tara turned pleading eyes on Phoebe. ‘Will you come another time and play with me—please?’

      This, thought Phoebe, was not part of the plan.

      She gave Tara a constrained smile. ‘I can’t promise anything. I—I do have to work for my living. And you have Cindy to play with.’

      ‘Not any more.’ Tara grinned naughtily. ‘I heard Daddy tell Carrie that Cindy would come back over his dead body.’ Her eyes brightened. ‘Daddy, why can’t Phoebe be my nanny instead?’

      There was a silence. Then Dominic said easily, ‘I’m sure she has a hundred reasons. I’ll leave her to tell you some of them while I make a few phone calls.’

      ‘Don’t you really and truly want to be my nanny?’ Tara asked when they were alone. ‘I thought you liked me.’

      ‘I do like you.’ Phoebe sat on the edge of the bed. ‘But it isn’t that simple. I have a job already.’

      ‘But it’s much nicer here than it is in that café,’ Tara urged. ‘You’d have a lovely bedroom. Would you like to look at it?’ She began to scramble out of bed, and Phoebe restrained her firmly.

      ‘And I have a home, too.’ With a roof that leaks and wiring on the blink and a nosy landlord ‘Your father will soon find someone else to look after you.’

      ‘I don’t want someone else.’ Tara sounded rebellious and fractionally close to tears.

      Phoebe took her hand. ‘Look, I came to say good night, not have a fight. Everything will work out, poppet. You’ll see.’

      Tara pulled her hand away and turned over, burying her face in the pillow. ‘I don’t like being on my own,’ said a muffled voice.

      Phoebe sighed soundlessly. ‘Listen, if you’re a good girl, and stop fussing, I’ll come and play Snakes and Ladders with you one day.

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