“Joey needs his father. You’re his father. Not me. Not someone you hire from an agency, but you.”

Gina continued, “My terms are simple. Joey has six weeks of the summer holiday ahead of him. You’ve got to make use of that time. You learn sign language. Talk to him. And listen to him. Plus you leave work early—no more getting home at ten. You take at least a week off to give him a holiday somewhere. I want your solemn word. If I don’t get it, I leave this minute.”

“You warned me you were tough,” he said.

“I had to be. You’ll discover that Joey’s tough, too.”

“If I give you these promises, I want one in return.”

“What?”

“That you’ll stay with us the whole six weeks. I can do it, Gina, but not without you.”

Lucy Gordon cut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness and Sir John Gielgud. She also camped out with lions in Africa, and had many other unusual experiences which have often provided the background for her books.

She is married to a Venetian, whom she met while on holiday in Venice. They got engaged within two days, and have now been married for twenty-five years. They live in the Midlands, U.K. with their two dogs.

Two of her books, His Brother’s Child and Song of the Lorelei, won the Romance Writers of America RITA award, in the Best Traditional Romance category.

For the Sake of His Child
Lucy Gordon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

YOU’RE PERFECT, my darling, do you know that? A bit small, perhaps, but size isn’t everything, is it? To me, you’re perfect. And you’re the love of my life!

Gina came out of her happy dream, and looked around hastily in case she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. But nobody in the car park had noticed her. Relieved, she patted the little car lovingly, and it seemed to shine more brightly, basking in her adoration.

It was, as she’d admitted, tiny. It was also twelve years old and had come at a knock-down price. People had been known to chuckle at the sight of it. But it was hers. It served her faithfully in a chug-chug fashion. And she loved it.

Her smile faded as she tried to open the door to get in. On one side of her was a brick wall. On the other side was a large Rolls-Royce, whose owner plainly felt entitled to take up more than his own parking space. She was tightly hemmed in.

‘Now, that’s not on,’ she muttered. ‘I can’t even open the door far enough to get in.’

Luckily the car had no barrier between the boot and the seats. By climbing through the back, Gina was able to reach the driver’s seat. It was squashed, undignified, and did nothing to improve her temper.

‘Who does he think he is?’ she muttered.

She began to back out slowly, holding her breath. At first all went well, but suddenly the little car threw a temper tantrum, slewed to the side and slammed into the shiny Rolls with an ugly grating sound.

Horrified, she squeezed out of the back again and went down on one knee to inspect the damage. Both vehicles were badly scratched and dented but on the Rolls it looked worse.

‘That was clever,’ said an ironic male voice above her head. ‘I’d just had it resprayed, too. Ten out of ten for timing!’

From this angle he looked enormous. His head of thick, dark hair towered over her from a great height and his shoulders seemed broad enough to blot out the sun. Hastily Gina got to her feet, but he still had eight inches over her, and it was exasperating to have to express her righteous indignation looking up.

‘Clever isn’t the word I’d choose,’ she said. ‘Selfish and arrogant, maybe.’

‘Who?’

‘Whoever parked this Rolls using two parking spaces, and leaving me no room to get out.’

‘Just how much room does this peanut on wheels need?’

‘We can’t all drive a Rolls,’ she said, incensed at this slur on her beloved.

‘Just as well. If you drove a Rolls the way you drive this—this—’

‘You’re encroaching on my space. You didn’t even leave me enough room to open the door. You had no right to park like that.’

‘Actually, it wasn’t me. My chauffeur parked it.’

‘I might have known.’

‘I see! If owning a Rolls is a crime, having a chauffeur is a hanging offence, right?’

‘It’s all of a piece, isn’t it? Anyone who can afford a chauffeur doesn’t need to think of other people. Why didn’t you stop him doing this?’

‘Because I wasn’t in the car at the time. This is the first I’ve seen of it, and I’ll agree he didn’t do a brilliant job. But let’s face it. He still left you room to back out, if you’d gone in a straight line. You’re not supposed to do a sharp turn, or did nobody tell you?’

‘If you’d left me my rightful space,’ Gina said crossly, ‘I’d still have missed you, no matter how many sharp turns I did.’

‘Your steering is defective,’ the man said, with exasperated patience. ‘And you’re damned lucky it came to light now and not when you were trying to avoid a truck.’

He was right, of course. That just made it worse. Now she was faced with a huge repair bill.

‘So what shall we do?’ the man asked. ‘Exchange insurance details, or would you prefer pistols at dawn?’

‘This isn’t funny—’

‘If we make a fight of it, I could say a few things about your wonky steering—’

‘Will you stop casting aspersions at my car?’

‘Considering what your car has done to mine, aspersions are the least I’d like to cast at it. The insurers will probably declare that little rabbit hutch a write-off.’

‘Now, look—’

‘So why don’t I just accept all the blame and pay for your repairs and mine?’

His sudden capitulation cut the ground out from under her. Her indignation died.

‘You’d—do that?’

‘Yes, despite my disgraceful chauffeur and my reprehensible Rolls, I have some human qualities after all.’

‘Thank you,’ she said meekly.

A middle-aged man had approached and was watching the scene. The other man turned to him.

‘You’ve landed me in it, Harry. What were you thinking of to park like this?’

‘Sorry, guv, but the bloke on the other side—he’s gone now—was taking up half our space, so I thought it wouldn’t matter if— Oh, my Gawd!’ He’d seen the damage.

‘Never mind. Just drive this lady’s—er—car to my usual garage and tell them to do what’s needed. Then come back here, take the Rolls—dents and all—and drive it to the garage.’

‘How do I get in?’ Harry demanded.

‘Through the back,’ Gina said through gritted teeth.

He squeezed into the little car and eased it gingerly out, only just managing not to graze the Rolls again. The man cast Gina a speaking look but maintained a tactful silence.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said awkwardly.

‘It’s not your day, is it? Where can we sit down and swap details in comfort?’

‘There’s a little place over there.’

He looked wildly out of place in Bob’s Café, a cramped greasy spoon that catered for people with little money and less time. He must have been a good six foot two, with long legs, broad shoulders and a set to his head that suggested authority. His suit was pure Savile Row, as befitted a man with a Rolls, but his air of confidence was his own.

She cast a disparaging glance down at her own clothes. Her grey business suit was neat and appropriate to her job, but it had been the least expensive in the store. She kept it varied with the clever use of scarves and jewellery, but this man looked as though his normal companions wore haute couture.

She tried to remind herself that he was the villain of the piece, but that was hard when he’d offered to pay all the bills.

It was lunchtime and the place was just filling up, but he found them a window table. He was the sort of man, Gina realised, who would always be able to find a window table in a crowded place.

‘Let me buy you a coffee,’ she suggested. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

‘Forget it. I’d rather heap coals of fire on your head.’ He studied the menu. ‘I’m hungry and I don’t like to eat alone. Choose something.’

‘Yes, sir.’

He grimaced. ‘Sorry. It’s my way. I’m used to giving orders, and it’s a hard habit to break.’

His voice was deep and resonant, making her realise that most voices were flat.

She made her choice and he hailed a waitress without trouble. When he’d given the order he said, ‘My name’s Carson Page.’

‘And mine is Gina Tennison. I’m really grateful to you, Mr Page. You were right about my steering. And it shouldn’t have been like that because I’ve just had the car repaired—’

‘You should sue the garage. Get yourself a good lawyer.’

‘Actually, I am a lawyer.’

‘Good grief!’

‘Well, it’s hard to be a convincing lawyer in a garage full of male mechanics,’ she said defensively. ‘It doesn’t matter how many legal qualifications you have, they still do what they like because they think you’re just a silly woman who knows nothing about cars.’

He didn’t answer, but his lips twitched.

‘Go on, say it,’ she challenged.

‘Do I need to?’

She broke into laughter, and he joined her. Laughing transformed him, softening the harsh lines of his face. But it vanished quickly. It was almost as though cheerfulness made him uneasy, and he needed to protect himself against it.

In repose, his face was full of tension. His eyes were dark and shadowed, and there were lines of strain around his mouth. This was a man who lived on his nerves, she realised, and she had a sudden feeling those nerves were at breaking point.

It was hard to guess his age. Somewhere in the thirties was as close as she could get. He had a lean body that moved easily, suggesting youth. But he carried an air of gravity as though life had piled cares on to him. It made his brief smile an unexpected pleasure.

‘So you’re a lawyer?’ he said. ‘Where do you work? Around here?’

‘Yes, I’m with Renshaw Baines.’

‘Renshaw Baines? I’m one of their clients. At least, I shall be after a meeting this afternoon.’

‘Oh, heavens, I’ve offended a client!’

‘That’s a little unfair when I’ve been at pains not to be offended.’

‘But I scratched your Rolls,’ she said, aghast.

‘Well, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Anyway, you can make up for it by putting me in the picture about Philip Hale, who’s going to handle my affairs. I’ve never met him before. Describe him.’

‘Philip Hale,’ she echoed carefully. ‘Well, he’s the most recent partner—everyone says he’s brilliant—you couldn’t have a better man—’

‘You really do dislike him, don’t you?’ he asked, easily reading between the lines.

She gave up. ‘Yes—no—it’s more that he dislikes me—disapproves of me. He thinks I’m a lightweight, and he didn’t want to employ me. Mr Page, I’m really not the person you should ask.’

He smiled again, becoming delightful for a moment. ‘I wish you could see your face this minute. All right. I’ll spare you. Why does he think you’re a lightweight?’

‘By his standards, I suppose I am. But he can’t fault my paperwork. I’ve done jobs for him that even he had to admit were up to scratch.’

‘Paperwork? No dramatic courtroom appearances?’

‘No, thank you,’ she said hastily. ‘I’m quite happy beavering away in the background.’

‘Isn’t that a bit dull for a young woman?’

‘Not for me,’ she said earnestly. ‘You see, for years I—’

‘Go on.’

‘No, I’m just burbling away about myself, and I don’t know why. I don’t normally go on like that.’

‘But I’m interested. What happened, “for years”?’

‘I was—ill, that’s all. And it didn’t seem as though I could live a normal life. But now I do. I’ve got a good job, and my own modest little bit of success, and it’s all like a dream to me. You said it must be dull, but I don’t find anything in my life dull, because it’s more than I ever hoped for.’

He looked at her, intrigued by the light that had come into her face, wondering if he’d really found that rarest of creatures, someone who was contented with her lot.

‘What kind of illness?’ he asked gently.

But she shook her head. ‘That’s enough about me. Please, I don’t want to say any more.’

To her relief he didn’t press the matter. It made her nervous to be talking to Philip Hale’s client, even if he had promised to keep her secret.

Gina had fought to study for her legal exams and passed them well. Renshaw Baines wasn’t the biggest legal firm in London, but it had a first-class name and could take its pick of applicants. She was proud of her value to her employers.

At twenty-six she was modestly pretty, with reddish hair, a pale skin and a slim, elegant figure. Her one real beauty was a pair of thrilling eyes, with the colour and depth of emeralds.

But few people had seen how lovely she could be. The circumstances of her life had taught her the value of caution and keeping a low profile. At work she dressed quietly, and even at play she didn’t splash out. She had a job which gave her a sense of self-worth, plus a boyfriend who was like an old slipper. And she was content.

His mobile rang and he answered it. It was Harry, at the garage.

‘They say it’s going to take a whole new engine to make that heap of junk roadworthy. And that’ll cost.’

‘Tell them to do whatever’s necessary,’ Carson said, without hesitation.

‘Look, guv, you don’t need to buy that woman a new engine—’

‘Just do it,’ Carson Page said brusquely, and hung up. ‘They’re working on your car now,’ he told Gina.

‘Is it bad?’

‘Nothing that can’t be fixed.’

‘Is it going to cost you a lot?’

He dismissed the subject with a shrug. ‘It’s history. Leave it.’

‘But—’

‘I said leave it.’ He sounded impatient. ‘You’ll have your car back in working order, but I should think you could afford a better one if you’re a lawyer.’

‘I haven’t been qualified long, but I suppose I might think of it now.’

‘You certainly should, for everyone’s sake,’ he said gravely, but his eyes were kind.

Impulsively she said, ‘You’ll probably think I’m crazy but I’ll be sorry to say goodbye to my “peanut”. It’s been a good friend and it’s sad to think that I’ll go onward and upward while my friend will languish in a scrapyard, waiting to be broken up.’

‘Not for a while yet. When the garage has finished with it you’ll be able to sell it to someone equally crazy.’

‘That’s true,’ she said, brightening. ‘And they might love it as I do.’ She tucked into her salad, which had arrived while they were talking, plainly feeling happier now.

Carson watched her in fascination as he munched on his sandwich. Then he turned his inward eye on himself and was incredulous. He prided himself on not being sentimental, but he’d accepted the blame, and the expense, for something that had been only partly his fault.

And why? Because he’d wanted to see her smile. That was the only explanation he could think of. And it wasn’t good enough.

Then he’d compounded his own idiocy by spending time in this dump, with a girl who was plainly cuckoo. He had a thousand better things to do than sit here listening to her talk nonsense.

Or did he?

Suddenly his brows contracted and he rubbed his eyes like a man in pain.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘Do you have a headache?’

‘No,’ he said quickly.

It was true that his head ached, but it did that so often these days that he disregarded it.

‘I think you do,’ she said.

For a moment he was annoyed at her persistence. He’d said no and that should be the end of it. But her eyes were gentle and concerned and his flare of anger died.

‘Perhaps just a little,’ he conceded. ‘I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment.’

She had a kind face, and for a moment he was tempted to tell her about the disasters that threatened to crush him. It might be easy to confide in this charming stranger about the loneliness of his life after the woman he’d once loved had turned out to be a selfish, calculating shrew.

He might even find a way to tell her about the deeper pain of his son, the little boy of whom he’d once been so proud, but who’d become a pitiful, disadvantaged creature. He could feel compassion for the child, and helpless, agonised love, but no pride.

Then he pulled himself together, wondering what he’d been thinking of. It wasn’t his way to show weakness in front of anyone, never mind strangers.

Besides, he didn’t want to spoil this moment. She was cheeky, and sweet, and fun.

Fun.

He’d almost forgotten what the word meant. But it meant this delightful young woman with her sunny face, laughing ruefully over her idiotic little car, counting her modest blessings. He was glad he’d yielded to the impulse to spend a little time with her. It was good to be reminded that there were people who could face the world with a smile.

He looked at his watch and was amazed to find that an hour had slipped away in her company. ‘Time for my appointment with Philip Hale. Have you finished?’

‘Goodness.’ She gulped her coffee in a hurry. ‘Can I have a head start? If we arrive together, people will wonder why, and one question will lead to another—’

‘And your dark secret will be exposed. All right. I’ll give you five minutes. Here’s my card, and I’ve written the garage number on the back. Call them tomorrow.’

‘Thank you. And thank you for the lunch.’

‘No problem. Good day to you.’

His hand took hers in a brief grip that almost made her gasp. She had a glimpse of long fingers, and a sharp sensation of power flowing between them. Then he released her and nodded a farewell that was almost a dismissal.

She hurried back to her office, feeling bemused. She’d never met a man who sent out so many confusing signals. He was handsome, with dark, speaking eyes, and might have been charming if he’d let himself relax. But that was obviously what he couldn’t do. One side of him—the businessman, presumably—had been reminding him of the time he was wasting. He was probably glad to be rid of her.

Carson Page watched Gina until she was out of sight. He had an odd, deflated feeling, as though the sun had just gone in. He rubbed his eyes again, wondering what had come over him to waste an hour over something that could have been sorted out in five minutes.

He pulled himself together. It had been a delightful interlude, like taking a much needed holiday. But now he must return to the real world, and it would be better not to see her again.

Gina found her secretary deep in paperwork. Dulcie was middle-aged, had worked for the firm for over twenty years and took a robustly cynical view of her employers. But she had a soft spot for Gina.

With her first words, she revealed the flaw in Gina’s secrecy arrangements.

‘Did I see you having lunch with Carson Page in Bob’s Café?’ she asked.

‘Oh, heavens! You didn’t tell anyone, did you?’

‘Not a soul. If Philip Hale thinks you’re trying to pinch his newest acquisition, there’ll be hell to pay.’

‘I know. Look, Dulcie, this is for your ears alone—’

‘Silent as the grave.’

Gina briefly described what had happened, and Dulcie gave a snort of laughter that she hastily smothered.

‘You bashed Carson Page’s car and lived to tell the tale?’ she asked. ‘And he’s paying for all the repairs? What’s your secret?’

‘Nothing. He’s just a very nice, reasonable man.’

‘He isn’t,’ Dulcie said at once. ‘I’ve got a friend who works for the last firm of lawyers he employed and he’s the client from hell. He owns Page Engineering, and I suppose if he wasn’t aggressive he couldn’t have made it what it is today.’

‘Goodness!’ Gina exclaimed. ‘That Carson Page? I never dreamed—I mean, I’ve heard of him.’

He’d created Page Engineering from nothing, fighting off competition ruthlessly, buying up smaller firms, and carving a large share of the market for himself. He was unstoppable. Whatever he touched turned to gold, or so the financial pages insisted.

He was also a bad enemy, driving opponents into the ground. And she’d dented his Rolls.

‘You’ve got to hand it to him as a businessman,’ Dulcie conceded. ‘But talk about difficult and demanding!’ She eyed her young boss significantly. ‘But not with you, eh?’

‘Oh, stop it!’ Gina said, reddening slightly. ‘He was just—I don’t know—he was a grouch, but a nice grouch. At least, he was trying to be nice, but he was awkward about it, as though he was using muscles that were a bit stiff.’

‘That sounds about right. He’s not known for overwhelming people with charm. Obviously you made an impression. Play your cards right and you’ll be travelling in that Rolls yourself.’

‘Nonsense. I’ll never see him again. Anyway, I’ve got my lovely Dan.’

‘I could think of many descriptions for your Dan, but lovely isn’t one of them,’ Dulcie said tartly. ‘He’s dull, he’s limited, you’re only dating him because you’ve known him since the year dot, and he takes you for granted.’

‘Well, I take him for granted, too. It’s cosy.’

Dulcie muttered, ‘Give me patience,’ and returned to her work, but only after Gina had made her promise yet again that not a word would pass her lips.

It was true that she’d known Dan since childhood, and was comfortable with him, but what was wrong with that? she thought, a tad defensively. The long years of suffering a crippling disability had left her willing to count her blessings.

She was meeting him that night in a tiny restaurant a couple of miles away. She booked a taxi, then, on impulse, called the garage and asked about her car.

‘You’re lucky,’ the head mechanic told her. ‘It’s not easy to find a new engine for that make, but for Mr Page we pulled out the stops.’

‘Excuse me—did you say a new engine?’ she asked faintly.

‘Only thing that will do it. New steering, too.’

‘But it’ll cost a fortune.’

‘Well, it’s going on his bill, so why worry?’

‘Oh, no, I don’t want this—’

‘Too late. It’s in pieces now.’

Dazed, she put the phone down. She needed that new engine, but to owe a stranger so much!

But, of course, Carson Page was a rich man who’d simply bought off trouble because it was quicker that way. She needn’t give him a second thought, any more than he would give her a second thought.

CHAPTER TWO

GINA went to change for the evening ahead, slipping off her smart business suit and donning a simple green dress. It was sleeveless but had a high neck against which rested a dainty pendant.

She brushed out her hair and added a little more make-up. Then she was ready.

She was a few minutes late at the restaurant, but there was no sign of Dan. She ordered herself a sherry, and sat waiting, hoping he wouldn’t be too long.

‘Do you mind if I join you?’

She looked up to see Carson Page standing, regarding her gravely.

‘Are you waiting for someone?’ he asked.

‘Yes, Dan—my boyfriend. He’s a little late.’

‘Then I’ll only stay a moment.’ He sat down. ‘I just wanted to let you know that your car will be finished the day after next.’

‘I know. I called the garage. Mr Page—’

‘Carson.’

‘Carson, I had no idea you were going to replace the engine. There was no need for that.’

‘According to the garage, there was every need.’

‘You know what I mean. I want to pay you—not immediately, but in instalments—’

‘All right, pay me one day. Now, can we forget this?’

She agreed, with a horrid suspicion that she was boring him. ‘How did you know I’d be here?’ she asked.

‘I was going to drop in at your office, but I arrived just as you were getting into a taxi. So I told my taxi to follow you.’

He ordered himself a drink, and she watched him, trying to tie this man in with the ogre Dulcie had described. ‘Difficult and demanding’ she could understand. Even when he was being kind, his air of pride and self-will were unmistakable. A bad enemy. A man who expected things done his way, and at once. A disturbing man. An exciting man.

She tried to brush that idea away, but it lurked on the fringe of her consciousness, taking little pot-shots at her more sedate thoughts.

He was different from other men, as a lion was different from kittens. She wished Dan would hurry up and arrive. Something was happening here that was threatening her carefully constructed world, and if she hurried she might still be in time to avoid it.

‘What about your car?’ she asked, hoping that her voice wouldn’t shake and betray her inner confusion.

‘It’ll be ready by tomorrow.’ He looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Seven-twenty. What time was your date supposed to arrive?’

‘Any time about now,’ she prevaricated. Dan should have been there at seven. ‘He’s very busy.’

‘So am I, but if I make a date with a lady I’m punctual.’

‘Actually I’m early. I don’t expect him until seven-thirty,’ she said defiantly.

‘If you say so.’ His dark eyes warned her not to try to fool him.

‘What did you think of Philip Hale?’ she asked, valiantly searching for a new topic of conversation.

‘He’s everything you said. Brilliant—couldn’t have a better man—for a limited range. Also the biggest bore in creation. Never says anything once if he can say it ten times.’

She choked into her sherry and put it down hastily, her shoulders shaking.

‘Don’t smother it,’ he advised her. ‘Laugh aloud. He isn’t here to know.’

‘I shouldn’t think anyone’s ever spoken about him that way before,’ she chuckled.

‘Nonsense. Everyone who’s ever met him must have said something like that as soon as they escaped.’

He hoped she would go on laughing, because her laughter made the sun come out again. But she controlled herself, pressing her lips together, although her eyes still brimmed with fun. He would have to make do with that.

‘Anyway, bore or not, I’ve decided to take him on. I’m seeing him again tomorrow, heaven help me! He’s a good lawyer, within his range. Do you have a speciality?’

‘Property and commercial law.’

‘So you might be doing some of my work?’

There was a noise in the background. Gina leaned forward, frowning. ‘Could you repeat that?’

‘You might be doing some of my work.’ He saw her watching him intently. ‘What is it?’

‘I’m deaf,’ she said simply.

‘Nonsense!’ he said brusquely. ‘You can’t be.’

Gina’s face broke into the happiest smile he’d ever seen.

‘Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me since—since I went deaf.’

He frowned. ‘But you seem to be hearing me quite normally. Are you saying you’ve been lip-reading all this time?’

‘Oh, no. I have a cochlear implant that helps me. I can hear most things, but if there’s background noise I sometimes miss a few words.’

Before her eyes he changed. A heaviness seemed to settle over him. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘I never suspected—’

‘Why should you? Apart from the odd moment, I’m just like everyone else.’

‘Yes, of course. Forgive me. I was just thinking—’

Gina watched him in dismay. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She was used to people who flinched at the word deaf, who couldn’t cope with even the thought.

But not this man, surely? She’d been so sure that he was special that she’d admitted her problem without worrying. Now her heart sank at the thought that he might be no better than the others.

The discovery hurt, but she couldn’t escape it. There was no mistaking the chill, withdrawn look that had come over his face. He no longer knew what to say to her.

To her relief she saw Dan hurrying towards her, dodging between the tables. ‘Darling, I’m so sorry I’m late. Something came up…’

Carson rose quickly. ‘I gather this is your date. I won’t keep you.’ He nodded politely at Dan and walked away.

‘Who was that?’ Dan asked, kissing her on the cheek.

‘Carson Page. I bashed his car.’

‘Good grief! The Carson Page? Darling, you shouldn’t have let him go so easily. He’s a big man.’

‘No, he isn’t,’ Gina said with a little sigh. ‘He’s just like all the rest.’

The next afternoon, the receptionist called to say that there had been a delivery for Gina. Dulcie was deep in correspondence, so Gina went out herself. And that was how she saw Carson Page arriving, accompanied by a little boy of about eight. The child had a pale, intelligent face, and he looked nervous.

Philip Hale arrived, full of an effusive greeting, which Carson returned politely, but with a cool restraint that would have warned a subtler man than Hale.

It was strange, Gina thought, how the child showed no awareness of the conversation going on over his head. Almost as if…

I’m imagining things, she thought, giving herself a little mental shake.

True to his word, Carson gave no sign of recognising Gina, but followed Philip Hale, his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

‘I wonder what’s the matter with that child?’ Gina said to the young woman receptionist.

‘Poor little kiddie. Tossed from pillar to post. Parents not speaking, using him as a weapon. Apparently, Mr Page is trying to stop his ex having any access to Joey at all.’

‘That’s wicked!’ Gina exclaimed.

Her view of Carson Page took another knock. Obviously his friendliness the day before had been an aberration, and there was something much more unpleasant beneath the surface.

She returned to her office and got down to business. She worked for half an hour, then she leaned back in her chair, yawned and stretched. It was late afternoon and the sun was hot.

‘Oh, heavens!’

She’d happened to glance out of her window, overlooking the main road, and something she saw there made her spring to her feet.

‘What’s that child doing there?’ she demanded, aghast.

It was Joey Page. He was wandering in the busy road, apparently oblivious to the furious honks from the motorists around him. As she watched, a car missed him by an inch. The motorist bawled at him, but the little boy merely looked bewildered, as though nothing that was happening to him was real.

‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered. ‘He doesn’t know—he can’t—’

The next moment, she’d dashed from her office, running across the reception area and out into the street, praying that she would be in time.

There was more honking as she raced into the road and grabbed Joey. He tried to throw her off, but she held on and guided him firmly back to the pavement.

‘What were you thinking of?’ she demanded breathlessly. ‘You could have been run over.’

‘Yaaa—yaaa—yaaaah!’ he shrieked, glaring at her and wrenching himself free. But behind the childish fierceness Gina glimpsed bewilderment, as though her words were meaningless, and now she was certain about something that had only been a suspicion before. She knelt so that he could see her lips.

‘You’re deaf, aren’t you?’ she said slowly.

‘Aaaah!’ he yelled.

His face was filled with sullen misery. She knew a flare of anger at the man who’d deprived this vulnerable child of his mother.

‘Don’t go into the road,’ she told him, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘It’s dangerous.’ She tried to put her hand on his shoulder.

‘Aaaa!’ he screamed, thrashing about so wildly that she was almost knocked off balance.

‘Joey!’ said a voice behind him. ‘Stop that!’

Gina looked up to see Carson, frowning. She rose to face him.

‘It’s no use shouting at him,’ she said. ‘He can’t hear you.’

‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘I know he can’t.’

He reached for the child’s arm. Instantly Joey swung around to face him and let out another yell. He sounded shocking, like a small demented animal, but Gina, standing close to him, could feel that he was trembling violently.

She could have wept for the child. She knew that bewildered frustration that could only find release in rage. Carson’s appalled expression now brought back a host of painful memories, and instinctively she put her arms about Joey.

‘I’m his father. I’ll take him.’

Gina gasped, trying to fight down the wild anger that surged up in her. She almost never lost her temper, but now it rushed away from her, leaving her shaking.

‘If you’re his father, what were you thinking of to let him wander away like that?’ she demanded. ‘Don’t you know that deaf children are vulnerable on the roads?’

‘I don’t need to be lectured about my own son,’ he snapped.

‘I think you do. A father worth his salt would protect this child properly.’

The look he flung her was so full of rage that anyone else might have been intimidated, but Gina was too cross to care. What did this man matter beside the hurt child?

‘He’s got problems,’ she cried. ‘He can’t hear. That means he needs more love and care, not less. He needs his mother.’

‘That’s enough!’ Carson’s face was frozen. ‘You know nothing about it. Perhaps you would be good enough to bring him inside.’

Gina grasped the child by the hand and led him back into the building. To her relief, there was nobody in Philip Hale’s office.

‘I’m grateful to you for rescuing him,’ Carson said, ‘and for the trouble you’ve taken—’

‘It’s no trouble,’ Gina told him firmly. ‘I’ll get him some—’ She stopped and put herself where Joey could see her. ‘Milk and chocolate biscuits,’ she said, speaking clearly. ‘Would you like that?’

He nodded. His expression was still belligerent but, when she tried to leave the office, Joey took a firm hold of her hand. It was as though he’d discovered safety at last, and he wasn’t going to risk losing it. Gina called Dulcie on the internal line and asked her to bring the refreshments.

‘They’ll soon be here,’ she told Joey. But he frowned. He hadn’t understood.

‘They will soon be here,’ she said, slowly and with emphasis. This time he nodded, and Gina gave him her most reassuring smile. After what seemed like an age, he managed a half-smile in return, but it was gone at once.

Just like his father, she thought.

He had a round face with well-defined features that were just beginning to reflect Carson’s. There was character beyond his years in that face, and mobile eyebrows that suggested a touch of humour. Behind the barrier of deafness a strong personality was developing, Gina thought.

Dulcie entered, and Joey’s eyes lit up at the sight of a plate of chocolate biscuits. But before he touched them he looked up at his father. Gina thought she saw apprehension in that glance, and her anger grew again.

‘He’s afraid of you,’ she accused.

‘He’s afraid of everything,’ Carson said wearily.

‘Of course he is. When you’re deaf, the world is a very scary place, but he should be able to rely on you to help him through it. You’re his father; you should stand between him and the things that threaten him.’

‘I don’t know how!’ he snapped. As soon as the words were out, his face closed against her, as though he’d been betrayed into an admission of weakness, and resented her for it.

‘He could have got killed out there but you haven’t put your arms around him. All you could think of was apologising to me. As though I matter, beside him.’

She checked herself. Out of the corner of her eye she’d glimpsed Philip Hale approaching.

‘Why don’t I take Joey to my office, so that you can get on with your business?’ she said quickly.

‘Thank you.’

She faced the child. ‘Come along. And we’ll take these.’ She took the tray with the milk and biscuits, and they went out together.

Luckily Gina found her office empty, which would give her time to talk to Joey and ease his distress.

‘I’m Gina,’ she said at last, placing herself where he could see her. ‘What’s your name?’

She already knew that he was called Joey, but she wanted him to tell her himself. That would start them communicating.

He looked at her, then away. After a moment he looked back.

‘Don’t you want to tell me?’

He took a deep breath and made a noise that sounded like, ‘Oooeeey!’

‘Joey? That’s fine. My name is Gina.’ He frowned, so she said it again. He tried, not very successfully, to say the word.

‘Look,’ she said, holding up her hand.

Slowly she made the sign for G, then I. She wondered if he understood finger-spelling, but his eyes brightened, and she finished the word.

‘Gina,’ she said.

He tried to say it. It came out badly but she smiled encouragement, and spelt it again with her fingers. Joey watched intently, then repeated her movements exactly.

‘Well done,’ she said, spelling the two words.

He tried to follow her and got it right on the second try.

‘Have something to eat now, and we’ll try again later,’ she said.

Now that he’d calmed down, she could study him better, and she saw sadness, as if the weight of the world was crushing him.

She ventured to try a longer sentence. ‘Are you enjoying your biscuits?’

He nodded, tried to say something and choked on a crumb. She patted him on the back and they laughed together.

Then it was his turn. He tried to speak some words which Gina almost understood. Some signalling back and forth revealed the meaning: You must eat biscuits, too.

After that the conversation was fast and furious. A light came into the child’s face. He communicated as if he’d never managed it before.

‘I’m deaf, too,’ she told him. ‘I can hear now, but I know what it’s like. Nobody understands.’

He nodded and, eyes wide, repeated with his fingers, Nobody understands.

‘You’re very clever,’ Gina told him, her fingers working fast.

Joey simply stared. Gina said it again and indicated for him to spell the words too. But instead of doing so he made a single sound.

‘Eeee?’ he said.

Something stuck in Gina’s throat. Instinctively she knew the meaning of that pathetic question.

‘Yes, darling, you,’ she said. ‘You’re very clever. You really are.’

This time he didn’t try to answer, but simply shook his head forlornly. Gina couldn’t bear that sight. She put her arms about him and hugged him to her. He hugged her back, clutching her so fiercely that she gasped.

I’m a stranger, she thought. Yet the poor little soul clings to me.

She closed her eyes and held on to him tightly, trying to convey comfort and safety in a way he could understand. When she opened her eyes again, Carson Page was standing in the doorway, watching them with an expression from which all emotion had been carefully wiped.

‘It’s time for us to go,’ he said.

Reluctantly Gina tried to release herself from the little boy’s arms, but Joey tightened his grip and wailed.

‘All right,’ she said quickly. She turned his face to her and said slowly, ‘Don’t worry. I’m here.’

She didn’t know what had made her say that in defiance of his father, but at that moment she would have done anything for this little boy.

‘I’m taking him home,’ Carson said firmly.

Gina faced Joey. ‘Home,’ she said.

But the child shook his head wildly. And when his father took hold of him, he began to thrash about, trying to fight him off.

‘Come along,’ Carson said firmly, tightening his grip.

‘Let him go!’ Gina rose to face him.

‘What did you say?’

‘I said, let him go. You’ve no right to treat him like this.’

‘Are you out of your mind?’

‘I’m asking you to be gentle with him—’

‘I make every effort to do so, but I will not tolerate tantrums.’

At the word ‘tantrums’, Gina wanted to bang her head against the wall—or preferably bang his head against the wall. Was there any way of getting through to this man?

‘He’s not having a tantrum,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘He’s lonely and frightened. Are you such a monster that you can’t tell the difference?’

Carson stared at her, thunderstruck by the force of her attack. She was amazed at it herself. Her nature was normally placid, but Joey’s suffering had brought old fears and miseries to the surface, destroying her control. For a moment she was a child again, lashing out at a cruel world that didn’t care enough to understand.

Then she saw Philip Hale in the doorway and her heart sank.

‘You will collect your things, Miss Tennison, and leave immediately,’ Mr Hale said, in a voice that contained a hint of triumph.

‘No,’ Carson said at once. ‘I owe Miss Tennison a debt, and I can’t allow her to lose her job.’

Philip Hale’s face was a picture. The desire not to offend a valuable client warred with indignation at Carson’s imperious way of declaring what he would and wouldn’t allow. While he was struggling Carson went on without waiting for a reply.

‘Miss Tennison, I thank you for saving my son, and—’ for the first time he seemed to falter ‘—and for the understanding you have shown him. You’re a credit to your employers, and I shall be writing to the senior partners to say so.’ He emphasised ‘senior’ very slightly. Philip Hale noticed and his eyes narrowed.

Gina let out a slow breath, more confused than she’d ever been. He was brusque, harsh and arrogant, but he was also fair.

Carson reached out to Joey. All the fight seemed to have drained out of the child, and he took his father’s hand without protest. But he was weeping with a kind of resigned despair that broke Gina’s heart.

She watched as father and son walked out and headed for the front door. They got halfway. Then Carson stopped and looked down at the child who, by now, was wiping his face. He put his fingers under the boy’s chin, and lifted it, looking urgently into his eyes. Then, more gently than Gina would have believed possible, he took out a handkerchief and dried the little boy’s tears. He looked back at her. For the first time he seemed unsure of himself.

‘You’d better come with us,’ he said. ‘I mean—if you can spare the time.’

Gina opened her mouth to say that of course she would come, but suddenly she was swept by alarm. She wanted to help this vulnerable child, yet a great weight seemed to be crushing her.

‘I—I—’ she stammered.

‘Go with him and make yourself useful,’ Hale said, speaking through gritted teeth. ‘I shall have things to say to you later.’

She collected her bag and hurried to catch up with them. Joey watched her, eyes wide, smiling. Then he put up his hands and spelled out, ‘Come too.’

‘Yes,’ she said, clearly. ‘I’m coming, too.’

‘Then let’s go,’ Carson said.

CHAPTER THREE

ON THE journey, nobody spoke. Sitting in the rear, with Joey, Gina could only see the back of Carson’s head. It had a forbidding look. The child seemed simply content to have her there. Gina was trying to calm herself, battling with traumas she had thought would never trouble her again.

For a while she’d been back in the old nightmare of childhood, hemmed in by silence and misunderstanding. It was a prison from which she’d hoped she’d escaped, but suddenly the walls had been there again. Now she was struggling with herself. She didn’t want to return to that prison, and yet Joey’s need was so great…

What was she thinking of? she wondered. This was one brief visit, and then she would never see either Joey or his father again.

She was bitterly disillusioned by Carson. Was it only yesterday that she’d thought she detected charm and kindness beneath his gruff manners? Goodness, had she been wrong about that!

The truth about him was that he was as prejudiced about deafness as anyone else, and furious at the fate that had given him a deaf child. To blazes with him! she thought stormily.

She realised that the little boy was trying to catch her attention, spelling out some words. She answered with her fingers, and they chatted in silence for the rest of the journey.

She soon recognised the part of London where they were heading. It was a place where rich men chose to live to show their status, with broad, tree-lined streets and large detached dwellings standing well back from the road. She’d once arranged the purchase of a house like one of these, and knew that they cost a million.

At last they slowed outside the largest mansion in the street, and Carson turned into the sweeping, curved drive and past the trees that hid the house from passers-by.

‘Normally Mrs Saunders would be here,’ he explained as he opened the front door. ‘She runs everything and looks after Joey when he’s not at school, but at the last moment she needed the day off, which is why I had to take him with me.’

‘Yes, I could tell you weren’t very experienced in looking after him,’ Gina said wryly.

They had stepped into a large hall with polished wooden floors and a broad staircase. The house was pleasant, with tall windows, and through the open doors she could see sunlit rooms. It might have been a lovely place to live, but to Gina’s eyes there was something unwelcoming about it. It was spotless, and everything was of the best. But it wasn’t a home to the two people who lived here, each trapped in his own isolation.

She was beginning to be worried by the looks Joey gave her, and the way he held her hand, as though she was vital to him. She mustn’t be. She could only do her best for him and pass on.

Yet she couldn’t help remembering the way people had come and gone in her own childhood, the feeling that here was someone who understood, only to find them vanished in a week.

Joey was pulling her hand, urging her out towards the garden. She followed him, with Carson bringing up the rear. It was a large, beautiful place, with magnificent lawns and flowerbeds. But Joey had no time for their beauties. He almost dragged Gina to a large pond where fat fish idled around. He pointed each out in turn, and chatted about them with his fingers.

‘He’s very interested in fish,’ Carson said, catching up with them. There was an undertone of desperation in his voice, as though he was making conscientious efforts, but wasn’t sure what came next.

Gina noted the effort, but still blamed him. Joey had been his son for several years, and he ought to be able to cope better than this.

Joey left them for a moment to go around to the far side of the pool and study the water. He was frowning and his concentration was so intense that he looked like a little professor.

‘Why doesn’t Philip Hale like you?’ Carson asked suddenly. ‘It’s more than you told me yesterday, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. He considers me “disabled” and he can’t handle that. Some people can’t cope with anyone out of the ordinary.’ She regarded him levelly.

‘Was that meant for me?’ he demanded.

‘Would it be true?’

‘You evidently think so. You don’t like people who make snap judgements, do you? But today you judged me and found me wanting very quickly. No mitigating circumstances, no “let’s learn all the facts”. Just “off with his head”.’

There was just enough truth in that to make her uncomfortable.

‘Carson, please don’t think I’m not grateful to you for saving my job. It was decent of you, after the things I said to you.’

‘A simple matter of justice,’ he said coolly. ‘Besides, you can be useful to me.’

‘Yes, I thought it might be something like that.’

‘You don’t take any prisoners, do you?’ he said wryly.

‘Well, if there’s a battle, I’m on Joey’s side. I fought it years ago. Don’t be fooled by my appearance. I may look like a little brown mouse, but I’m really very tough.’

‘Little brown mouse?’ he echoed. ‘With that blazing auburn hair?’

She was taken aback. She was used to thinking of her hair as sandy, or at most ‘reddish’ certainly at the dull end of the red spectrum. Nobody had ever suggested before that it was at the glamorous end.

All the way back to the house Joey watched the two of them closely, aware of their tension. Once inside he began to pull on Gina’s hand, urging her to the stairs.

‘Please, go with him,’ Carson said.

She wasn’t sure what to expect from Joey’s room, but the reality made her stop and stare. It wasn’t that the walls were covered with posters—it was the content of the posters that astonished her. Not a footballer in sight.

Everywhere she looked there were whales, penguins, sharks, sea lions, fish, coral, shells. The bookshelves took up the same theme, and beyond them were more shelves of videos.

‘You must know a great deal,’ Gina told Joey.

He nodded.

‘Have you always been interested in marine life?’

She had to spell marine, but then he understood and nodded again.

He showed her around, and she found that he had all that money could buy, including a computer through which he could pursue his interest on the Internet. His father had even provided a credit card with which he could purchase whatever he pleased from an on-line bookshop.

In fact, the room had everything except some sign of warm, adult interest. This child lived in a vacuum, Gina thought with a shiver. On the evidence of his books he was highly intelligent, but he had nobody to share it with.

And then she found something that struck a curious note. A large framed photograph stood by Joey’s bed. It showed a young woman in her early twenties. Her face was heavily made up, but even without that she would have been beautiful. Her rich blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and her mouth was curved provocatively at the camera.

Gina recognised the woman. She was a young actress called Angelica Duvaine who was fast making a name for herself in films. Gina had seen her playing second lead in a recent blockbuster. She had a limited talent but her beauty and glamour were stunning. It was a strange picture to find in the room of such a young child.

Joey saw her looking and beamed with pride.

‘My mother,’ he spelled.

‘But—’ Gina realised she was entering a minefield. A child, cruelly deprived of his own mother, had set up this fantasy to comfort himself. How could she snatch it from him?

‘She’s very pretty,’ Gina agreed.

Joey nodded and pointed to the picture. ‘Eeee—aye—eeee,’ he said.

Gina understood this as She gave me. A fan picture, sent through the post, and the child thought he’d been selected for special favour.

‘She gave it to you?’ she echoed. ‘That was nice of her.’

Joey fought for speech. The result was garbled but Gina understood. She loves me.

‘Yes,’ she said heavily. ‘Of course she does.’

Carson looked in. ‘There’s something to eat downstairs.’

Supper was laid in the elegant dining room, full of polished rosewood, with expensive pictures on the wall. Gina reflected that she would have hated to be a child in such a room, and Joey seemed to feel the same, because he was subdued.

The meal was excellent, and she complimented Carson on it.

‘I can’t take the credit,’ he admitted. ‘Mrs Saunders left everything ready and I just microwaved it.’ He regarded his son, staring unenthusiastically at his plate. ‘What?’ He touched Joey’s shoulder to get his attention. ‘What’s the matter with it?’ he asked, raising his voice.

‘Does Joey have any hearing at all?’ Gina asked.

‘No, none.’

‘Then why do you shout? Speaking clearly is what he needs, so that he can follow your lips. Anyway, there’s nothing the matter with the food. But if Joey’s like me at that age he’d prefer a burger.’

‘Junk food,’ Carson said disparagingly. ‘This is better for him.’

She saw Joey looking from one to the other with the bewildered look of the excluded, and took his hand in hers for a moment. At once the look of strain vanished from his face.

‘But who wants to have what’s better for them all the time?’ she persisted. ‘Junk is more fun. Have you ever asked him what he prefers?’

‘That isn’t easy.’

‘Yes, it is,’ she insisted. ‘You look into his face so that he can see your lips.’

‘Do you think I don’t try that? He doesn’t understand me. Or he chooses not to, for reasons of his own.’

Gina was about to dispute this but a memory of her childhood got in the way.

‘That depends how you talk to him,’ she mused. ‘If you let him see you’re impatient, he’s bound to get upset.’

‘I do not—well, I try not to—are you saying he is doing it deliberately?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s what I used to do. When you’re faced with a really unsympathetic adult who’s obviously just doing his duty, and would rather be anywhere but with you—you don’t tend to make it easy for him.’

‘And I am the unsympathetic adult, I take it?’

‘Are you?’

He let out a long, slow breath. ‘I’m doing my best.’

‘How good a best is it?’

‘It’s damnable,’ he flashed. ‘All right? That’s what you think, isn’t it? And it’s the truth. I’m a lousy father, I don’t know what I’m doing and he’s suffering for it.’

‘At least you’re honest.’

‘But where does honesty get us?’ he asked bleakly. ‘Do you have the answer any more than I do?’

The weight of despair in his voice checked her condemnation. He too was suffering, and he coped less well than the child.

Last night, the word ‘deaf’ had made a change come over him and she’d judged him severely, assuming that he’d reacted with repulsion, as so many people did. But the truth was that deafness confronted him with problems he couldn’t cope with, and a miserable awareness of his own failure.

‘What should I do?’ he said wearily. ‘For God’s sake, tell me if you know!’

‘I can tell you what it’s like for Joey,’ she said. ‘If you understood that, you might find things easier for both of you.’ She saw Joey looking at them and said, ‘Not now,’ quietly to Carson.

For the rest of the meal she concentrated on the child, making him feel included. Carson ate very little, but he watched them, his eyes moving from one to the other as though he was afraid to miss anything.

‘May I use your telephone?’ Gina asked after a while. She’d remembered that Dan was due to call her.

‘There’s one in that room through there,’ Carson said.

She called Dan’s mobile and found him slightly tetchy.

‘You didn’t say you were going to be out tonight,’ he complained.

‘I didn’t know. Something came up suddenly.’

‘My boss invited me to his house and said to bring you, too. It didn’t look good when I turned up without you.’

‘I’m sorry, but I didn’t know.’

‘You’ve still got time to get here if you hurry.’

‘All right, I’ll try to—’

Then she saw Joey watching her from the doorway.

His face told her that he understood. He couldn’t hear the words, but when you were deaf you always knew when people were preparing to desert you.

Desert? Nonsense! She didn’t owe Joey anything.

But she did. Because he was trapped in the dreadful silent world from which she had escaped. And the deaf always owed each other, because they knew terrible secrets that nobody else knew.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ she said hurriedly.

‘Gina, this is important.’

‘And my job is important to me,’ she said, seizing an excuse that Dan would understand. ‘I blotted my copy-book with a client this afternoon, and I’m trying to put it right.’ Hurriedly she explained about the accident, and about Joey. She could sense Dan becoming interested.

‘Carson Page? The man you were talking to last night?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re at his home?’

‘Yes.’

‘That posh place in Belmere Avenue?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hmm. All right. I’ll be in touch.’

He hung up.

Carson had come to the door to urge Joey back to the table. It was clear he’d heard part of the conversation. He looked at her wryly.

‘Did I force you to break a date?’ he asked.

‘No, there’s no problem.’ She spoke to Joey. ‘I’m not going yet.’

His brilliant smile was her reward.

After the meal Joey, at a nod from his father, switched on the television to watch his favourite soap, with the aid of subtitles. The two of them cleared the plates into the kitchen. Carson poured her a glass of wine, and pulled out a chair at the table.

‘I haven’t told you properly how grateful I am,’ he said. ‘I should never have taken Joey to that place, but I didn’t know what else to do. He broke up from school today and, without Mrs Saunders, I had to take him with me. I got absorbed in business and didn’t see him wander off. But for you, I might have lost him.’ He added quietly. ‘And I couldn’t bear that. He’s all I have.’

‘I wish you’d asked me to look after him at the office this afternoon,’ Gina said.

‘I thought of it, but I didn’t know how, without breaking my word and admitting that we’d met before.’

‘You should have broken it,’ she said at once.

‘Also, I wasn’t sure if your employers knew about you. I didn’t want to let the cat out of the bag, precisely because there are people like Philip Hale in the world.’

‘I thought you were like him,’ she admitted. ‘Last night—’

‘I didn’t react very well, I know. But it’s like floundering in a sea of confusion. I try to remind myself that it’s worse for Joey.’

‘Yes, poor little soul. Outsiders can’t imagine—the sheer frustration when the words are building up inside you and you can’t get them out—and people look at you as if you’re crazy—’

‘If that’s meant for me, don’t bother. We’ve already agreed that I’m a hopeless father with no idea what his son needs.’

‘Surely you know one thing that he needs? His mother. Even if you and she have fallen out, she’s the person with the best chance of understanding him. If he had her, he wouldn’t have to indulge in fairy tales about film stars.’

‘What makes you think he’s indulging in fairy tales?’ Carson asked wryly.

‘Oh, please! I’ve seen Angelica Duvaine’s picture by his bed. She looks about twenty.’

‘She’d be thrilled to hear you say so. She’s twenty-eight. That picture’s been cleverly touched up. Mind you, even the reality looks much younger than the fact. She’s worked on her appearance—diet, massage, exercise. The next thing was going to be plastic surgery to lift her breasts. It was the row over that that made her finally move out. Not that she was here much anyway, by that time.’

‘Are you telling me that Angelica Duvaine really is Joey’s mother?’ Gina asked, only half believing.

‘In a sense. Her real name is Brenda Page but it’s years since she answered to it. When our divorce is finalised in a few weeks she won’t even be that any more.

‘I know I look like the monster separating mother and child, but I wouldn’t be doing it if she showed any interest in him. You should read some of Brenda’s press interviews. She’s never once told the world she has a son. From the moment she realised Joey had a problem with his hearing, he ceased to exist as far as she was concerned. He was a blot, something to be ashamed of. My wife, you see, values physical perfection above everything.’

He waited a moment, to see if she had any answer for this.

‘Oh, dear God!’ Gina whispered at last. ‘That poor little boy.’

‘Joey adores her. God knows why, when she treats him so carelessly. She goes away, ignores him, comes back for five minutes, then goes away and breaks his heart again. But he never holds it against her, no matter how badly she behaves.’

‘Of course not,’ Gina said. ‘He thinks it’s his fault.’

He looked at her strangely. ‘Is that how it was for you?’

‘Something like that. I was lucky in my mother—she was wonderful, but she died. My father—well, I think he actually found me repellent. And I knew I must have done something terrible to make him not love me.’

‘And that’s what Joey thinks?’

‘He told me that his mother loves him. He probably explains her absences by blaming himself. But I’m only guessing.’

‘So what do I do?’ Carson demanded. ‘Explain to him that his mother is a selfish woman who loves nobody but herself? That she remembers him when it suits her and abandons him when it suits her? Why do you think I’m trying to separate them finally? Because I can’t stand the look on his face when she leaves again—as she always does.’

‘But she’s his mother—she must love him, in her own way—’

‘Then why didn’t she take him with her? I wouldn’t have tried to stop her, if she’d really wanted him. Don’t judge every mother by your own. They’re not all wonderful.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said helplessly. ‘I had no right to criticise you without knowing all the facts.’

He ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it. At some point he’d removed his tie and torn open the throat of his shirt. The man in control had slipped away, leaving only the man distracted by forces he didn’t understand.

‘I guess I can’t blame you on that score,’ he said. ‘It’s something I do myself. What are all the facts? How can you ever know?’

‘Tell me about Mrs Saunders. Is she qualified to help Joey?’

‘I thought so. Brenda hired her. Apparently she once worked in a school for children with special needs. But Joey dislikes her. He has violent tantrums. Only yesterday he had a terrible screaming fit.’

‘But that’s frustration. It’s not fair to call it a tantrum.’

‘Maybe not. But I think that’s why Mrs Saunders took today off. She needed a rest. Who’s that?’

The doorbell had rung. Frowning, Carson went to answer it, and returned with Dan.

‘You said your car was still being repaired,’ he explained, ‘so I thought I’d give you a lift home.’

‘Very thoughtful,’ Carson said, ‘but I would have provided Miss Tennison with a taxi.’ He looked at her reluctantly. ‘Were you anxious to leave?’

‘That depends on Joey.’

‘It’s about his bedtime.’

‘Why don’t you put him to bed?’ Dan said to Gina. ‘I’m sure he’d like that.’

His smile was full of cheerful kindness, yet it struck a strangely false note with Gina. She didn’t have time to brood over it. She signed bedtime to Joey, and he jumped up and came with her eagerly.

‘I won’t be long,’ she told the two men.

‘Don’t hurry too much, darling,’ Dan muttered to her. ‘I’ve been trying to meet Carson Page for months.’

So that was it. She couldn’t really blame Dan. He worked hard and he had his way to make in the world. But tonight had been about Joey and his needs, and Dan’s opportunism jarred with her.

While Joey got into the shower she returned to his room to fetch the towelling robe she’d seen hanging behind his door. On the way back, she stopped and looked over the banisters. She could just see where Dan and Carson were sitting together, talking. At least, Dan was talking. All she could see of Carson was his back, but something in the set of his shoulders told her that he was finding Dan’s monologue hard going.

Joey turned off the shower and came out straight into the bathrobe she was holding up for him.

‘An—ooo!’ he said painfully. Thank you.

She put him to bed, and asked him, signing, if he wanted to read. He shook his head and lay looking up at her from his pillow, smiling. He seemed relaxed and happy, quite different from the tense, nervous child of the afternoon. Impulsively Gina leaned down and kissed him.

‘Is he ready to go to sleep?’ Carson asked from the door.

‘Just waiting for you to come and say goodnight,’ Gina told him.

She stood back so that father and son could hug each other, but Carson only said awkwardly, ‘Goodnight, son.’

Joey struggled to say goodnight, and managed the word pretty well, but Gina could feel Carson’s tension.

‘Goodnight, Joey,’ she said.

She was about to turn away, but Joey detained her with a hand on her arm. She sat on his bed and watched as he pointed at himself, then curled over the middle three fingers of his hand so that the thumb and the little finger made a Y shape. With this he made a gentle waving motion, then finished by pointing at her. A shy smile touched his lips.

‘What did he say?’ Carson asked.

‘He says he likes me.’ Smiling, Gina indicated herself, made the Y gesture, then pointed at Joey.

I like you.

Suddenly she was gasping for breath as a pair of young arms tightened around her neck in an embrace that was both eager and desperate. She hugged him back, but it was some time before she could make him release her.

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