Читать книгу The Wedding Challenge - Jessica Hart - Страница 8

APART from a faint lifting of his eyebrow, which was somehow worse than an open sneer, Chase gave no sign that he had even noticed her legs. He dropped her hand pretty quickly, though, pulled the door to, and went forward to fold himself easily into the pilot’s seat.

Bea was left to brush herself down and get herself into one of the small passenger seats behind Emily, who grinned knowingly at her. She glared back.

Chase was flicking buttons above his head, ignoring both of them. Bea just hoped that he knew what he was doing. She had never been in a plane this small before, certainly not one with a propeller. It looked pretty flimsy, too. She tapped the side panel dubiously. Oh, for a jumbo jet, four massive engines, and a pilot in a navy-blue uniform with multiple rows of gold braid!

‘Seat belt?’

She started as Chase turned abruptly to fix her with that unnervingly cool blue stare.

‘Oh,…yes…’ She fumbled for her belt, but her fingers were clumsy under his icy gaze and it seemed to take forever to snap it into place.

‘Are you secure?’ he asked with an edge of impatience.

‘I’m a bit neurotic about my weight and I’ve got a massive complex about my hair, but on the whole, yes, I’d say that I was as well-balanced as the next person.’

‘What?’ Chase stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted tentacles and turned into an alien, which was probably how she seemed to him.

Bea rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, I’ve fastened my seat belt.’

With a final hard look, Chase turned back to the controls, and they were soon speeding down the runway, the propeller a blur on the plane’s nose. The sound of the engine reverberated deafeningly through the cabin. Bea’s stomach dropped alarmingly as they lifted into the air, and she closed her eyes and clutched at her seat. If she survived this trip, she was never, ever, ever going to let Emily talk her into doing anything else.

When she felt the plane level off, she opened her eyes cautiously and risked a glance out of the window, and promptly regretted it. The ground looked very far away, a flat, reddish-brown expanse that stretched out interminably in every direction. Bea could see the tiny shadow of the plane travelling along the ground below them, and wished that she were down with it, instead of suspended in midair.

In the front seat, Emily was chatting away, apparently unperturbed by the fact that she was sitting a thousand feet up in a flimsy tin can powered by little more than a rubber band. She had obviously recovered from her initial disappointment and was doing her best to flirt with Chase, although she wasn’t getting very far, judging by his monosyllabic replies. After the way he had pulled her into the plane, his strength couldn’t be denied, and no one could call him chatty, but Bea didn’t think he was quite what Emily had in mind on the strong, silent front.

She hoped not, anyway. She had a nasty feeling that Chase was not the kind of man to mess with. He certainly didn’t look the type to put up with much nonsense. Still, it was odd that he was so unresponsive. Very few men were immune to Emily’s sparkling blue eyes and spectacular lashes, but Chase seemed impervious to her many charms.

Maybe he just didn’t like women, Bea thought. It would be a shame with that mouth. Or maybe he was married after all. There was no reason why he shouldn’t be. The thought made Bea frown for some reason, and she leant forward casually, as if to get something from her handbag so that she could check out his left hand on the joystick.

No wedding ring. Nice hands, though.

Bea relaxed slightly and sat back, only to realise that the lack of a ring probably didn’t mean much. She couldn’t imagine outback men going in for jewellery in a big way. If Emily’s description was anything to go by, they were all macho in the extreme and would consider wedding rings something only city boys wore.

Not that Chase seemed particularly macho, but there was something spare and uncompromising about him. Definitely a no-frills type, she thought.

So he might be married.

Bea’s eyes rested on him speculatively. She couldn’t see his expression, just the edge of his jaw, his ear and the side of his throat. He had a good, strong neck, she couldn’t help noticing. She’d always had a thing about men’s necks. It didn’t bother Emily, but Bea couldn’t bear thin, scrawny ones. She liked her men strong and solid all over.

How did Chase like his women? Bea found herself wondering. It was pretty obvious that he didn’t have much time for brunettes with a stylish shoe sense! No, he’d probably go for a robust, no-nonsense type, she decided. Blonde, probably, with short sensible hair that didn’t require washing, moussing and blow-drying every day, and a minimal beauty routine.

Oh, well. Each to his own. It wasn’t as if she cared.

Although it did seem a waste of a neck like that.

Bea looked away with a tiny sigh.

If only there was anything else to look at! Looking down at the ground made her feel ill, and the sky was just a blue glare that made her feel dizzy. Bea tried looking at her hands, but that was just boring, and it was impossible not to let her mind drift towards imagining how Chase would be with his wife. Was he always this chilly and forbidding, or did he relax with a woman he liked enough to marry? He might even smile. Imagine what that would be like!

Closing her eyes, Bea was alarmed to find that she could imagine it all too clearly, and the picture of that stern mouth relaxing into a smile left her with such a queer feeling inside that her eyes snapped open again.

Nerves, she told herself.

‘Are you OK?’

Chase’s brusque voice made her jump, and she jerked her head round to find him regarding her with a frown. His eyes were uncomfortably keen, and in spite of herself Bea flushed, remembering the wayward trend of her thoughts.

‘I’m fine,’ she said stiffly.

He had turned right round in his seat to look at her. ‘You seem a bit nervous,’ he commented.

‘I’m not in the least nervous,’ lied Bea in a brittle voice, adding pointedly, ‘I might feel better if you were looking where you were going, though.’

A half-smile quirked the corner of his mouth. ‘This old girl can fly herself. It’s not as if there’s anything to bump into up here, anyway.’

‘Maybe not, but there’s plenty to bump into down there,’ she said, pointing at the ground.

‘Relax, Bea.’ It was Emily’s turn to swivel round in her seat. ‘I tell you what, why don’t we change places? You’ll get a much better view up here.’

‘No,’ said Bea, a little too quickly. The plane felt unstable enough as it was without them all playing musical chairs. ‘I mean, I’m happy where I am.’

‘Are you sure? It’s a fabulous view!’

Of what? Bea wondered. Brown, brown and more brown? She could see more than enough from her side window.

‘I’m sure,’ she said, thinking longingly of Sydney. She could be in the kitchen, preparing for the evening ahead. The catering company had been a great place to work, and no two days were the same. One day they might be doing a five-course dinner for eight, and the next canapés for eight hundred. It had been hard work, but Bea loved it. It had been good experience too, and had given her plenty of ideas for when she branched out on her own.

Remembering the atmosphere of controlled chaos and the surge of adrenalin that somehow made everything come together at the last moment, Bea sighed. Afterwards they would all go for a drink in a noisy bar and then she’d get the ferry across the harbour to the house she and Emily had shared with two friends. Sydney seemed part of a different world from this interminable journey.

The noise and the vibration and the smell of fuel was making her feel queasy, and she clamped her lips together as her stomach churned. Excellent, being sick was all she needed to complete the good impression she had made on Chase so far. She could just imagine his expression if she chucked up in his plane.

At least on proper planes they gave you a sick bag. Bea hunted surreptitiously through her handbag, but couldn’t find so much as a tissue. And she certainly wasn’t using the bag itself! She had bought it in Italy, and it was one of her favourites.

Oh, God, please don’t let me be sick, she prayed silently, pressing her lips together as her stomach gave another alarming lurch. Hadn’t she been through enough humiliation today?

Clearing her throat, she leant forward. ‘Um…how much longer will it take us to get to Calulla Downs, Mr Chase?’

‘Only another twenty minutes or so,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder. ‘And you can call me Chase.’

Where did he think they were? In the army? Bea had no intention of barking his surname at him, but she was damned if she was going to be interested enough to ask for his first name either. ‘I’d rather stick to Mr Chase for now,’ she said coolly as she sat back in her seat.

Chase glanced at her again, and then shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want.’

In fact, it was nearly half an hour before the little plane began its descent. Somehow Bea got through it without throwing up, but it was a close run thing. She was so relieved at the prospect of landing that even the flat scrub below them looked inviting. She didn’t care how brown and boring it was, as long as it was firm beneath her feet.

The plane had barely touched down before she was out of her seat belt and waiting by the door like a dog sensing the prospect of a walk. Chase gave her an odd look, as he bent to push the door open.

‘Hang on a minute,’ he said irritably when Bea made to clamber out. ‘You’ll break your ankle if you try and jump down in those shoes.’

Evidently exasperated, he swung himself down in one fluid motion and turned to hold up his arms. ‘Well, come on,’ he ordered, as Bea dithered, torn between her longing to be back on terra firma and an acute attack of shyness at the thought of touching him.

In the end, she didn’t have much choice. She leant forward and took hold of his shoulders as he grasped her firmly by the waist and lifted her bodily onto the ground. It only took a second, but that was quite long enough for Bea to register the rock-hard body and the warmth of his hands searing through the flimsy material of her dress. It might even have been that rather than the heels which made her stumble slightly as she landed and fall against him.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered, flustered by his closeness.

Chase wasn’t flustered. He simply put her aside like a parcel and held up a hand to help Emily jump down before unloading their suitcases.

‘You look a bit funny,’ said Emily to Bea. ‘Are you all right?’

Before Bea could answer, the sound of an engine made them turn to see a pick-up truck bumping along a track towards them, red dust hanging in a cloud in its wake. It stopped beside the plane and a man got out.

And not just any man. Emily drew a deep breath, her concern for Bea forgotten. Here was her fantasy at last!

He was tall and lean and incredibly handsome, with just the right hint of toughness. Here was a man who could ride the bucking bronco, and wrestle bulls to the ground before breakfast. He didn’t actually have a lasso in his hand, but you could just tell that it was looped onto his saddle.

In fact, thought Bea, the only thing that was missing was that trusty horse. By rights he should have ridden up and swung easily to the ground. A pick-up truck didn’t have quite the same effect, but she could see that Emily didn’t care. In every other way he was perfect. The dusty boots, the checked shirt rolled up to reveal powerful forearms…he even had a hat tilted over his eyes.

‘Maybe this is Nick’s brother,’ Emily whispered hopefully to Bea and sent him a dazzling smile.

He gave a slow smile in return, outback man incarnate. It was like watching Emily’s fantasy come alive, so much so that when he actually tipped his hat, Bea almost laughed out loud. Any minute now he would whip off his hat and bend Emily back over his arm for a kiss before tossing her over his saddle and galloping off with her into the sunset. At the very least, he would call her ma’am, surely?

Instead he spoke to Chase. ‘I brought the ute out when I heard you coming in. I thought you might want a lift back in case the girls here had some luggage to bring in.’

Oh, yes, even the right Australian drawl. Emily was starry-eyed. ‘I think I’ve just died and gone to heaven,’ she sighed to Bea.

‘I don’t think he’s Nick’s brother, though.’ Less dazzled, Bea was watching the two men together. They were of a similar age, and Chase was shorter and more compact, but in some indefinable way you could tell that he was in charge. ‘If you’re planning on becoming mistress of a million acres, I’d hang on and check out the brother first.’

‘What do I care about acres?’ Emily was well gone. ‘Did you see the way he smiled?’

Bea was more concerned about the way the men were throwing their suitcases into the back of the ute. She hoped her hair-dryer would stand up to all the rough handling.

‘This is Baz,’ said Chase, belatedly remembering to make the introductions.

‘Hi,’ said Emily before he could go any further. Her eyes shone as she smiled at Baz. ‘I’m Emily.’

‘Welcome to Calulla Downs, Emily,’ he said in his deep, delicious voice.

Chase eyed them sardonically. Here they went again! He’d lost count of the number of girls he’d seen swoon at Baz’s feet. The little blonde was clearly a romantic like all the others. Baz barely had to open his mouth and they were besotted. Chase was surprised that he never seemed to get bored with all that uncritical adoration. For himself, he preferred a bit more of a challenge.

Involuntarily, he glanced at Bea. A smile was tugging at the corners of her lush mouth as she watched her friend gazing dreamily at the stockman, and the snooty expression that had so riled him had been replaced by a gleam of amusement. Chase was taken aback to see how different she looked, and even more disconcerted to discover that he was pleased that she was apparently immune to Baz’s legendary charms.

She wasn’t as pretty as her friend, but her face had more character with its dark brows, firm nose and stubborn chin. And that mouth. Her straight brown hair was cut in a bob that he guessed was normally immaculately shiny but which right then was looking rather the worse for wear, with her fringe sticking to her forehead and the rest hanging limply around her pale face. She had been nervous in the plane, and probably more than a little sick, but she hadn’t been going to admit it, and Chase thought she was probably still feeling a bit queasy.

She turned her head suddenly, as if becoming aware of his gaze, and their eyes met for a tiny moment. There was a funny little jolt in the air, and he found himself remembering the warmth of her body between his hands as he lifted her down from the plane.

‘And this is Bea,’ Chase said to Baz almost roughly.

‘G’day, Bea.’

‘Hello.’ Her voice sounded comically high and brittle after Baz’s deep, slow tones, but something in the way Chase had been watching her had put her on edge. Retrieving her sunglasses from the top of her head, she put them on and hoped they would hide her expression.

‘Where’s Chloe?’ Chase was asking, all briskness, as if he hadn’t even noticed that odd frisson in the air as their eyes had met.

Perhaps he hadn’t, thought Bea. Perhaps she had imagined it.

Baz was talking about somebody called Julie, while Emily hung on his every word. And there was plenty of time to do that. Bea had never heard anyone speak quite so slowly.

‘We may as well pick her up on the way, then.’

As if the hierarchy wasn’t already obvious, Chase strode over to the ute and opened the driver’s door, while Baz climbed into the open back with the suitcases.

Emily gave Bea a nudge. ‘You get in,’ she said, obviously hoping that she would be able to get in the back with Baz, but her plan was foiled when Chase leant over the bench seat and opened the door.

‘There’s room for three,’ he said drily.

Which meant, of course, that Bea was stuck in the middle. The gear stick was set into the column of the steering wheel, so there was nothing to stop her sliding across the shiny leather seat against Chase. She kept edging back towards Emily, who used her bottom to shunt her back into the middle.

‘Budge over, Bea,’ she said. ‘You’re squashing me.’

Bea clung to the bar across the dashboard and concentrated on not brushing against Chase’s arm, but it was hard when the ute was lurching and bumping over the rough ground.

‘Who’s Julie?’ she asked to distract herself from the solid length of his thigh on the seat next to hers.

From the fine hairs at his wrist glinting in the sunlight.

From his hands on the steering wheel and the tingling where his touch seemed imprinted still on her skin.

Bea shivered, and Chase shot her a curious glance. ‘Julie’s married to one of the stockmen,’ was all he said. ‘He’s known as the married man, which means he gets a house on the property. Julie’s got two kids of her own, but she’s been keeping an eye on Chloe until you got here.’

He pulled up outside a low house which looked to Bea as if it had been plonked down in the middle of the bush with an arbitrary fence thrown around it to create a yard otherwise indistinguishable from the surrounding scrub. Three children were playing in the shade of the long veranda, but when they saw the ute pull up at the gate, a little girl detached herself and came tumbling down the steps.

‘Uncle Chase! Uncle Chase!’

Glad of the excuse to get out of the car, Bea had slid out after Chase, just in time to see him smile at the child who threw herself at him.

It gave Bea a horrible fright. For one terrible moment she thought that her heart had actually stopped beating, but the next instant it had slammed back into action, thudding painfully against her ribs and sucking all the oxygen from her lungs so that it was difficult to breathe properly.

For God’s sake, she scolded herself. It was only a smile! You’ve seen a man smile before, haven’t you?

Not like that, an inner voice answered.

She was so taken up with breathing again that it took a minute to realise just what she had heard. Uncle Chase?

Bea swallowed. ‘Uncle?’ she repeated in a hollow voice.

Chase looked at her over the top of the cab. There was no mistaking the glint of mockery in his eyes. ‘Uncle Chase,’ he confirmed, the little girl hanging off one hand.

Even Emily was diverted from Baz for a moment. ‘You’re Nick’s brother?’ she said, staring.

‘I’m Chase Sutherland,’ he agreed.

‘We thought you were the manager!’ Emily put her hand to her mouth and giggled. ‘You must have thought Bea was weird when she insisted on calling you Mr Chase!’

Bea gritted her teeth. ‘I’m sure Mr Sutherland knew perfectly well what we thought,’ she said tightly, glaring at Chase. ‘Why didn’t you tell us Chase was your first name?’ she demanded.

‘I told you to call me Chase,’ he pointed out with what she was sure was a smirk. ‘But you seemed pretty set on calling me Mr. I thought maybe things were more formal where you come from.’

He hadn’t thought anything of the kind, Bea thought savagely. He had just enjoyed seeing her making a complete idiot of herself.

Chase put one hand on the shoulder of the little girl in her denim dungarees. Her blonde hair was tied up in bunches and she had an angelic face belied by the expression in her sharp green eyes.

‘This is Chloe,’ said Chase. ‘Say hello to Emily and Bea, Chloe. Oh, I’m sorry!’ He caught himself up and looked at Bea in mock apology. ‘Would you prefer her to call you Miss Bea? I know how keen you are on formality!’

‘Bea’s fine,’ she said grittily and forced herself to smile at the child as Emily was doing. ‘Hello, Chloe.’

Chloe eyed her warily. ‘Hello,’ she said without enthusiasm.

Bea and Emily exchanged a glance. Even inexperienced as they were, they recognised the mutinous set to that little mouth.

‘Emily and Bea are going to look after you until Dad comes home,’ said Chase.

‘Emily is going to look after you,’ Bea put in firmly. She knew absolutely nothing about children, and she had no intention of getting roped in to looking after one. ‘I’m just the cook.’

Chloe studied her with suspicious green eyes. ‘Why do we have to call you Miss Bea?’ she demanded.

‘That was just your uncle’s idea of a joke,’ said Bea.

‘Why?’

‘I’ve no idea. It wasn’t very funny, was it?’

A smile twitched at the corner of Chase’s mouth as he went over to speak to Baz. To Emily’s dismay, the stockman nodded, tipped his hat again in their direction, and walked off.

‘Don’t panic,’ said Chase drily, correctly interpreting the look on Emily’s face. ‘You’ll see him again this evening. If you get in the ute, I’ll be back in a minute,’ he added. ‘Chloe, you get in too.’

The three of them squeezed into the front seat and, when Chase reappeared, they set off down a fork in the track. Bea could feel the dust gritting her skin already, and her hair felt awful. She couldn’t believe why anyone would choose to live out here. There was nothing but scrub, a few spindly trees and the bare earth, cracked and baking in the heat.

And then Chase swung off the main track, and they suddenly found themselves in an oasis of green. It was so unexpected that Bea actually gasped. Tall trees cast fractured shade over a lawn where a sprinkler flickered. There were lemon trees and great clumps of pink oleanders and purple bougainvillea, and set amidst it all the homestead, a solid, stone building with a deep veranda running around all sides and an air of gracious calm.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful!’ Emily cried.

Bea said nothing, but she had to admit to herself that things might not be quite as bad as she had feared.

Chase drove round the back to a big, dusty yard and parked the ute under a gum tree. From this view the homestead was less impressive. Nobody was wasting water on the working side of the house, with its collection of sheds, its water tanks and windmill.

Inside, though, the homestead was cool and quiet. The floors were of polished wood and the furniture was a comfortable mixture of the antique and the modern. Someone, thought Bea, had a lot of style.

And a lot of money.

Chase dumped their cases in a room with twin beds and looked at his watch. ‘I’ll show you the kitchen,’ he said to Bea, ‘and then leave you to get on with it.’

Leaving Emily to cope with Chloe on her own, he strode back down the corridor, with Bea forced to trot to keep up with him.

‘This is the kitchen,’ he said, opening a door into a large room equipped, to Bea’s relief, with what looked like the latest technology. He pointed through a door on the other side of the room. ‘We eat on the veranda through there.’

‘What, outside?’

‘It’s cooler out there.’

‘Yes, but what about the flies?’

‘It’s screened in,’ said Chase impatiently, as if she was supposed to know that everyone in the outback ate on their verandas. ‘Now, you should find everything you need over there,’ he went on, pointing at a wall of steel fridges and freezers. ‘There’s a larder and a cold store as well. I suggest you keep opening doors until you find what you need. The stockmen will come over for supper at seven o’clock, so you’ll need to have a meal ready by then. Any questions?’

‘“What am I doing here” springs to mind!’ sighed Bea.

Chase frowned. ‘I understood you were a qualified cook.’

‘I am. That doesn’t make me a mind reader!’

He glanced irritably at his watch, impatient to be gone. ‘What do you need to know?’

‘How many I’m cooking for, for a start.’

‘Oh.’ It was a reasonable enough question, Chase allowed grudgingly. ‘Nine of us, plus you two. Chloe eats separately in the evening. She should be in bed by seven.’

‘I’ll tell Emily,’ said Bea sweetly. ‘Any special dietary requirements?’

She was looking straight at him, and Chase saw her eyes properly for the first time. They were golden, the colour of warm honey, and very clear.

‘Meat,’ he said gruffly, annoyed with himself for even noticing. ‘Nothing fancy.’

‘Well, I should be able to cope with that.’

She didn’t even bother to disguise her sarcasm, and Chase shot her a look as he took a hat from the hooks by the door.

‘You’re not much good to me if you can’t,’ he said, and went out, letting the screen door bang behind him.

He didn’t reappear until six o’clock. Bea looked up as the screen door creaked and then went back to slicing carrots vengefully.

The door clattered back into place and Chase hung his hat on a hook. ‘Is everything OK?’

The casual note in his voice infuriated Bea.

‘Oh, yes, everything’s fine!’ she said, tight-lipped, her knife flashing dangerously as it demolished the carrots. ‘We’ve been dumped in the middle of nowhere, with no idea of where anything is or how anything works…and you disappear and just leave us to get on with it!’

‘I thought you wanted to come and work on a cattle station?’

‘Emily wanted to come. Personally, I appreciate a more professional set-up!’

Chase eyed her cautiously. She seemed tense, and he knew from past experience that the last thing you wanted was a tense cook at this stage of the evening. If they wanted to eat tonight, he would have to be careful not to provoke her.

‘You seem to have managed, anyway,’ he said pacifically. ‘Something smells good. Did you find everything you needed?’

‘Eventually,’ said Bea with something of a snap. If she had, it was no thanks to him!

There was a tiny pause.

‘Where’s Emily?’ Chase tried again.

‘Giving Chloe a bath.’

‘Has she been all right?’ Bea reached for another carrot, her edginess at the sight of Chase easing slightly. ‘She seems a bit…wary,’ she said.

There had been a definite sense of wills being measured and in Chloe’s case at least, some calculation as to how much she could get away with. It hadn’t taken her long to realise that the answer was ‘a lot’ as far as Emily was concerned.

Still, it wasn’t her problem, Bea told herself firmly. She had enough to do as it was. Finding your way around a strange kitchen and producing supper for eleven with no warning was problem enough for her!

She had changed, Chase realised. She had replaced those ridiculous shoes with flat sandals and the dress with cotton trousers and a sleeveless top beneath a practical apron. Her hair was pushed behind her ears, and her lashes were lowered as her eyes followed the rapid slicing movements of the knife in her hand.

For some reason Chase felt awkward. ‘She’s a nice kid when she gets to know you,’ he said after a moment. ‘She’s had to get used to a lot of different people passing through, and she tends to take her time before deciding whether she likes you or not. I don’t blame her.’

‘Nor do I.’ Bea looked up from her knife and he was struck again by how clear her eyes were. ‘I do exactly the same.’

Although that wasn’t quite true, was it? She had decided she didn’t like Chase straight away.

There was another pause. Bea reached for another carrot.

‘It must be difficult for Chloe with her mother being away as well as her father. When is she coming back?’

Chase had gone over to the beer fridge, but he stilled with his hand on the door and turned to face her, his brows drawn together. ‘Didn’t Nick explain the situation?’

‘I’ve never met him,’ said Bea. ‘I gathered from Emily that his wife was working in the States and that he’d gone to join her.’

Chase’s hand fell. ‘It’s a bit more complicated than that,’ he said slowly.

Bea paused in mid-slice, and something in his expression made her lay the knife down. ‘What?’

‘Georgie’s left Nick.’

‘Oh, I see,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘And Chloe?’

‘She doesn’t know. She’s too young to understand.’

Chase pulled a beer out of the fridge and wrenched off the top before belatedly remembering to offer Bea one. She shook her head and he sat down at the table, turning the bottle between his hands. It went against the grain to pass on Nick and Georgie’s private business, but she and Emily really needed to know the situation so that they didn’t upset Chloe unnecessarily.

‘Nick’s gone to try and persuade Georgie to come home,’ he said.

To his relief, Bea didn’t offer sympathy or sit down next to him and encourage him to tell her the whole story. Instead she swept the carrots off the board into a saucepan and picked up an onion.

‘Why has…Georgie?…gone to America? Is she really working?’

‘Oh, yes, she’s working all right. That’s part of the problem. Georgie’s an actress. She’s making a movie somewhere in Texas, and she’s got a starring role.’

Bea froze and put down her knife very carefully. ‘We’re not talking about Georgie Grainger by any chance, are we?’

‘You’ve heard of her?’ Chase took a pull of his beer. ‘Georgie would be pleased.’

Bea opened her mouth and then closed it again. Georgie Grainger was not yet in Nicole Kidman’s league, but comparisons were already being made. She had had a small part in a film that had turned into the unexpected success of the previous year, breaking all box office records, and for a while the media couldn’t get enough of her.

Bea remembered seeing her being interviewed on a television chat show, and how envious she had been of her creamy skin and swinging chestnut hair and spectacular green eyes.

‘She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?’ she had said to Phil, but he had only grunted and said that he preferred blondes.

That should have been a warning.