Tangled Emotions by Catherine George

Author:Catherine George
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2003-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

INSTEAD of a letter from Safehouse next morning Fen received a phone call from David Baker’s assistant, asking her to come back for a second interview the following Monday. And, though Fen would have given much to tell the woman Safehouse could stuff their job, she agreed to the time suggested solely because she wanted to see Joe hard at work while she swept by on her way to her interview. After which, because rejection was new in her life, she’d avoid another by saying no thanks to David Baker before he said it first.

Fen made a couple of journeys to the car with luggage, television and microwave, then took down the curtains she’d bought and folded them into a bin liner with her cushions and bedlinen. At last she picked up the phone and rang Friars Wood.

‘Gabriel?’ she said, her voice suddenly breaking.

‘Fenny? Oh, Fenny, I’m so glad to hear from you. I could have cried when Adam said you came here on Sunday to an empty house. Where are you now? When are you coming home?’

‘Would right now be a bad time?’ said Fen, swallowing tears in her relief.

‘Of course not! Come right away. I’ll ring Adam—no, I won’t. We’ll do a special dinner and surprise him tonight,’ said Gabriel jubilantly, then paused, her voice troubled. ‘You know, Fenny, I’d give the world—’

‘Don’t, Gabriel, please. Don’t blame yourself. I had to know some time.’

‘I just wish you hadn’t found out from me.’

‘And I wish I hadn’t behaved like such a horrible brat and worried you so much. I’m desperately sorry. I’ve missed the boys so much. How are they—?’ Fen broke off as she heard noisy crying in the background.

‘That’s how they are,’ said Gabriel, laughing. ‘You still want to come home?’

The warmth of Gabriel’s welcome lightened Fen’s mood considerably as she put the rest of her belongings in the car. She locked up for the last time, then with a sigh of relief turned her back on Farthing Street and drove to the rental agency to reclaim the deposit put down when she rented the house.

‘No can do, love,’ said the woman at the desk. ‘You left the house before the time specified on the contract.’

‘Will you tell your manager that Miss Dysart requires return of her deposit before he gets the keys to 29 Farthing Street?’ said Fen, slapping down a receipt on the desk. ‘Alternatively he can reimburse her for the new mattress she bought to replace the stained, insanitary disgrace provided by the company. His choice.’

Her tone sent the woman hurrying with the bill to the manager’s office. When she returned almost immediately with a cheque Fen received it graciously, handed the keys over and swept out, well aware that it was the Dysart name, rather than her ultimatum, that had won the day.

On the drive back to Stavely Fen did her best to erase Joe Tregenna from her mind and concentrate on the joy of going home. She’d been away for longish

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