Читать книгу Levelling The Score - Пенни Джордан, Penny Jordan - Страница 7

JENNA had just reached the part where the story was starting to develop properly when her doorbell rang. She groaned, putting her book down reluctantly. It would be Craig, too lazy to search for his own key again.

She got up and went to open the door.

‘Hello, Jenna. I trust my sister is now out of the bath?’

As she fought to control her shock, her attention slid past Simon’s tall, laconic figure to the car parked just behind him. Good heavens, if that was Simon’s, no wonder he had objected to Susie’s new love running into the back of it! She blinked slightly as she took in the luxurious splendour of its dark maroon paintwork.

‘It’s an Aston Martin,’ he told her helpfully, following her gaze. ‘The soft top signifies that it’s a convertible.’

The sarcasm underlying his words snapped her back to reality. This was the Simon she knew so well.

‘I can see that for myself.’

‘You can? You surprise me, Jenna!’

What was he implying? She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, not having the courage to ask. If she did, no doubt she would receive another sardonic insult.

‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

She didn’t want to. Had he already guessed the truth, or was he genuinely expecting to find Susie inside her flat?

The sudden screech of a taxi as it came to a halt inches from the Aston Martin’s immaculate bodywork created a welcome diversion.

The door opened and Craig emerged, looking very brown and slightly leaner than Jenna remembered.

He paid off the taxi, and gathered up his belongings.

‘Hi, gorgeous … Missed me?’ he asked, ignoring Simon to plant a warm kiss very firmly against Jenna’s mouth.

His action took her by surprise. An easy camaraderie existed between her and Craig but, while he would often slip his arm round her, or tease her about her non-existent sex life, this was the first time he had actually kissed her.

‘I hope you’ve got something in for supper, I’m starving …’

‘I filled your fridge for you,’ Jenna told him automatically, her attention focused on Simon, and on the extraordinary tension that was emanating from him. What was causing it? The fact that she was keeping him waiting on the doorstep? And yet he hadn’t seemed all that anxious when he’d first asked for Susie.

‘Lend me your key will you, Jen?’ Craig asked. ‘God knows where mine is.’

She stepped back into the hallway automatically in response to his request, both men following her. When she emerged into the light of the sitting-room she saw that the tension had left Simon’s face, and that he was his usual urbane, relaxed self.

‘Know you from somewhere, don’t I?’ Craig asked Simon, while Jenna got her spare key to his flat.

‘Not as far as I’m aware.’

The silky denial irritated Jenna for some reason.

‘You’ve probably seen his picture in the gossip columns,’ she told Craig, eyeing Simon with disfavour.

‘Really?’ Craig looked curious, but not impressed.

‘Are you going to come up and have supper with me later, Jen?’ Craig asked. ‘Or …’

‘Jenna and I have some personal family business to discuss,’ Simon answered smoothly for her. ‘Private family business …’

Craig took the hint, the look he gave Jenna over Simon’s shoulder as he opened the door to leave making her expel a faint shaky sigh of relief.

It was good to know that Craig would be upstairs if she needed him, although quite what Simon could do if he discovered that Susie had deceived him she wasn’t too sure.

‘Er … would you like a cup of coffee, Simon, or …?’

‘What I would like, Jenna, is to know exactly what game my idiotic sister is playing now. And don’t try telling me that she’s staying here with you.’ His eyes swept the neatness of the small room disparagingly. ‘I know my sister … if she were here, there’s no way she wouldn’t already have littered the place with her possessions.’

Jenna bit down on her bottom lip, knowing that what he said was all too true.

‘Where is she, Jenna?’

The silkiness was gone from his voice now, leaving it hard and determined. He must be a very frightening man to face in court, she thought on a soft shiver.

‘Susie is twenty-four-years old, Simon,’ she told him, stalling for time. ‘If she wanted you to know her every movement, I’m sure she’d let you know …’

‘Nice try, but it won’t wash … Susie is up to something, probably with that moronic idiot, Halbury!’

‘Susie loves him,’ Jenna retorted angrily.

‘So she is with him!’ Triumph glinted darkly in his eyes. ‘I thought as much, the stupid little fool … If she can’t see that it’s her trust fund he’s in love with …’

‘You’ve no right to say that,’ Jenna interrupted him.

‘Haven’t I? Have you met Halbury yet, Jenna?’

She bit her lips again, in vexed admission that he had caught her out.

‘You know my sister … How many times has she been in love in the last five or six years? Once a month on average, wouldn’t you say?’

Jenna was forced to concede that he had a point, but she conceded it in silence.

‘The man’s nothing more than a fortune-hunter,’ Simon told her bitterly. ‘He’s filled Susie’s head with some idiotic idea that he’s a talented fashion designer, and that with her money …’

‘Maybe he’s right,’ Jenna suggested tartly. ‘Just because the all-seeing, all-knowing Simon Townsend doesn’t approve of him, doesn’t necessarily mean …’

‘All right, Jenna, you can cut out the acid remarks. He’s been made bankrupt twice in the last four years. Before he started dating Susie he was involved with the eighteen-year-old daughter of a building millionaire, but Daddy realised what was going on and put a stop to it. Halbury must have thought he’d strayed into paradise when he found Susie.’

His voice held such a ring of bitterness, that Jenna went cold with anxiety for her friend. It was true that Susie was not and never had been a good judge of character. She took everyone at face value, believing that all her fellow human beings were as honest and innocent as she herself.

Because the Townsend family as a whole played down the money inherited from a wealthy industrialist uncle of their father’s, Jenna herself had almost forgotten about it. Now her forehead pleated with concern, as she said slowly, ‘But surely Susie can’t touch her trust fund until she’s thirty?’

‘Or marries beforehand, in which case she inherits when she’s twenty-five—in four months’ time,’ Simon reminded her.

Immediately Jenna felt herself flush with guilt. She ought to have questioned Susie more deeply, knowing her feather-headed friend’s prosperity for trouble, but she had been so caught up in the potential pleasure of putting Simon’s nose out of joint that she had completely overlooked this facet of Susie’s personality.

Another unpalatable thought struck her. Had Susie, knowing how she felt about Simon, deliberately introduced him into the situation as a ploy—a decoy, so that she wouldn’t question her too deeply? And then she remembered the rest of what Susie had told her.

‘Susie’s old enough to make up her own mind about whom she wants to marry, Simon,’ she told him. ‘Since you know your sister so well, I’m surprised that you didn’t realise what the effect of trying to force her hand would be,’ she concluded, with an admirable attempt to mimic his own sardonic coolness.

‘Ah, I see … So now I’m featuring as the big bad brother, am I? I take it that Susie has been discussing John Cameron with you?’

‘She told me that you were trying to coerce her into marrying one of your friends—yes,’ Jenna agreed baldly.

His eyebrows rose mockingly. ‘Is that really what she told you? Goodness me, she must have a more inventive imagination than I’d given her credit for. And you believed her?’

His smile wasn’t kind, and it raised an anguished pattern of goose-bumps down the length of her spine.

‘Do tell me, Jenna—how was the dastardly deed to be accomplished? Was I going to drug her and carry her off somewhere, where I could keep her imprisoned until she agreed to marry John, or …’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ Jenna snapped, interrupting him, bright flags of colour flying in her cheeks. ‘I know what you’re trying to do, Simon, but it won’t work. I know you, remember … there are far more subtle ways of bringing force to bear on someone. Susie was afraid that she would let you persuade her into marriage with this—this John …’

‘Umm … I suppose she neglected to mention that less than twelve months ago when she first met him in Canada, she was actually engaged to John, albeit very fleetingly. She broke off the engagement when he told her that they would be living on his money.’

Jenna felt herself flush again. She wasn’t’ sure whom she was the most annoyed with, Susie, Simon, or herself for being such a gullible idiot.

‘Where have they gone, Jenna? And don’t bother trying to lie to me. I know she’s gone off somewhere with this Halbury idiot.’

‘Cornwall,’ Jenna told him, defeated. ‘Your parents’ house … She wanted time on her own with him, to get to know him properly …’

Defeat and guilt tasted acid in her mouth. Simon was just as capable of shading the truth as Susie herself, but in this instance … She gnawed on her bottom lip, wishing she had never got involved in the situation in the first place.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘What do you think?’ Simon asked ironically.

‘Go down and bring her back?’

‘Clever girl!’ He glanced at his watch, revealing a tanned forearm, crisped with very masculine-looking dark hairs.

‘Enjoyable though I find your company, Jenna, I’m afraid I’ve got to go …’

‘Will you drive down there tonight?’

He raised his eyebrows slightly.

‘Like a knight on a white charger, intent on protecting my sister’s virtue?’ He shook his head. ‘No, not tonight.’ He walked to the door, and then paused, turning to eye her thoughtfully. ‘By the way, do give my apologies to your … friend, for interrupting his … homecoming …’

Jenna caught the underlying message and gritted her teeth against it. ‘There’s no need to be coy, Simon,’ she responded coolly. ‘If you’re trying to intimate that you believe Craig and I are lovers, why not come right out and say so? After all, there isn’t any reason why we shouldn’t be, is there?’

‘None,’ he agreed cordially, giving her a hard-edged look. ‘And although it’s none of my business, I have to say that you hardly took the part of the eager lover, desperate to return to his arms,’ he told her with gentle malice.

She couldn’t let it pass, it came too close to home, too close to a truth she couldn’t bear to admit.

‘Craig and I have lived together for quite a long time, Simon,’ she responded calmly. ‘Neither of us seems to need the constant stimulation of new partners … But then we’re all of us different, aren’t we?’ she added with an acid smile.

If her barb had found its mark, there was no sign of it. She followed Simon out into the hall, and let him out of the front door. She watched as he walked away, a tall man, who, despite being powerfully built, moved with a lithe grace that could on occasion be faintly menacing.

When he had gone she went back to her sitting-room, her interest in her book now completely gone. She had failed Susie; now what was she to do?

She looked at the phone and then remembered that the house in Cornwall did not possess one. It was a holiday home, Mrs Townsend had always said, and that being the case, a telephone could only be an unwanted intrusion.

She thought of Susie, still blissfully unaware of what tomorrow would bring. Her friend had quite probably deliberately deceived her. Simon might be correct in everything he had said about Peter Halbury, but that did not alter the fact that he still had no right to interfere in his sister’s life, Jenna told herself stubbornly.

Somehow Susie would have to be warned. But how?

There was only one way, and she knew even as she contemplated it that her mind was already made up, and had been from the moment Simon had announced that he wouldn’t be going to Cornwall until the morning.

It would be a long drive, and an uncomfortable one in her small Mini, but the very thought of depriving Simon of his prey was enough to make her ignore any potential discomfort.

She went upstairs to Craig’s flat. He opened the door immediately to her knock.

‘Gone, then, has he?’ He looked speculatively at her, but Jenna refused to be drawn.

‘Yes, he has. Craig, I have to go down to Cornwall—immediately … Will you keep an eye on my flat? I’ll only be gone for a couple of days.’

She sensed that Craig wanted to question her, but after a moment’s hesitation he shrugged and said laconically, ‘Of course, why not? You’re not thinking of taking that car of yours, I hope?’

‘What else?’

‘Take mine instead,’ he offered.

Craig owned a six-month-old Porsche that was his joy and pride, and Jenna blinked slightly at the munificence of this offer.

‘Craig, I couldn’t!’

‘Of course you could. You’ll be a damn sight safer driving mine than that tin can of yours.’

Reluctantly she allowed him to persuade her, knowing that the journey would be faster and much easier in Craig’s car.

He gave her the keys, and she went back down to her own flat to pack an overnight case.

Within an hour she was on the road, busy with mid-evening traffic, but once she had cleared the city she had the motorway almost to herself. The Porsche was a dream to drive, eating up the miles. The route was familiar to her from all the holidays she had shared with Susie and her family at their Cornish cottage, and although she had to stop three or four times to check signposts, once she was off the motorway she felt that she was making good time.

Susie would be shocked to see her, but better that shock than the one she would get should Simon turn up unannounced some time tomorrow afternoon.

At last she was crossing the Tamar—always an important psychological moment in those teenage journeys—and finally she was on Cornish land.

Although both Susie and Simon shared their Cornish ancestry, only Simon showed it, with his olive skin and night-dark hair. Mrs Townsend had once voiced the opinion that she suspected there might even be a trace of Spanish blood somewhere in their Cornish inheritance—Spanish galleons had been wrecked off the Cornish coast at the time of the illfated Armada, and more than one dark-haired, swarthy-skinned sailor had made it safely ashore.

The cottage was situated just outside a tiny fishing village several miles from St Ives, on a part of the coastline so rugged and swept by dangerous tides that it had never fallen foul of any developers.

Tregellan Cottage was perched on top of a jagged stretch of cliff exposed to the full force of the Atlantic gales in the winter.

It had its own private beach that could only be reached via a narrow cliff path that was not for vertigo sufferers or those who were queasy-stomached.

There were no signs of life in the village, but Jenna had not expected there to be; at gone two in the morning it was hardly likely that anyone would still be awake.

Craig’s Porsche purred triumphantly up the narrow cliff road—as her poor little Mini would never have done. The cottage was in darkness, and she parked at the front, climbing a little wearily out of the driving seat and walking towards the door.

It was a beautifully clear night and she stopped briefly to breathe in the salt-laden air.

Even from where she stood she could see the ocean—see and hear it, the soft, lulling sound of the outgoing tide distinctly soothing to the ear.

She moved, her bare arms caught by the sudden breeze that sprang up and she shivered slightly as she hurried down the flagged path to the cottage door.

She had changed into a comfortable cotton jumpsuit for the drive, and the sea wind flattened the fabric across the fullness of her breasts.

The cottage had no bell, just an old-fashioned lion-headed knocker. However, just as she lifted her hand to touch it, the cottage door opened.

It was a rather odd sensation, staring into complete blackness, and Jenna hesitated uncertainly on the threshold until common sense came to her rescue and she realised that Susie must have heard her drive up.

Stepping inside she said quickly, ‘Susie, I’m afraid I’ve let you down and you’re in for a shock …’

‘Unfortunately, Jenna, I suspect the shock is going to be yours.’ She gasped as Simon stepped out from the shadows. ‘Please excuse the rather theatrical darkness, but I can’t find the blasted paraffin lights, and the generator is on the blink.’

Electricity had never reached the remoteness of the clifftop, and for years the Townsends had kept on hand some old-fashioned storm lanterns for those occasions when the temperamental generator refused to work.

‘I think your mother keeps them on the cold slab in the small cellar,’ Jenna responded automatically, shock giving way to ire, as she demanded, ‘What are you doing here, Simon? You told me you weren’t going to come down until tomorrow.’

‘So I did, but I changed my mind … I must admit it never struck me that you would be so quixotically loyal to my idiotic sister as to drive down here yourself! It can’t have been a comfortable journey in that tin can of yours.’

‘I’m not driving the Mini,’ Jenna snapped. ‘Craig lent me his Porsche.’

Now that her eyes were accustomed to the gloom, she could see the derisive lift of Simon’s eyebrows quite clearly.

‘Really? He must be more besotted than I’d imagined, or you, my lovely Jenna, must be far more … talented.’

She flushed beneath the barb of the deliberate sexual innuendo, hating him for the mockery it held.

‘Unfortunately, both of us appear to have made a wasted journey, because Susie isn’t here.’

‘Not here! But she told me …’

‘She lied to you, I’m afraid,’ Simon interrupted her coolly. ‘She isn’t here, nor has she been here … I must admit I was a little surprised to learn that her luxury-loving friend was prepared to spend close on two weeks down here. The Côte d’Azur is more in his line.’

He said it with a hard disdain that made Jenna wince.

The burst of adrenalin which had fuelled her determined drive to Cornwall had gone. In its place was a weary exhaustion that locked her muscles and made her ache for sleep.

There was only one thing left for her to do now and that was to return to her flat. The thought of the long, tiring drive was not a tempting one.

As she turned round and started to walk away, Simon caught hold of her arm.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Back to London.’

She saw him grimace, a weary, almost self-mocking tightening of his facial features, which surely must only have been the trick of the light, because Simon had never viewed himself with self-mockery in all his life—of that she was quite sure.

‘Rather dramatic, don’t you think? I know you loathe the very sight of me, Jenna, but you’re hardly going to be contaminated by spending half a dozen hours under the same roof. I shouldn’t think your boyfriend would be too pleased if you wrote off that expensive piece of equipment he’s loaned you. You’re in no fit state to drive back to London now,’ he added firmly. ‘I suspect we’ll find that half the bedding’s damp and the cottage is freezing but, thanks to my dear sister’s notorious selfishness, we have no other option but to stay here.’

Jenna frowned. Susie selfish!

‘She didn’t know we’d follow her down here. I suppose she changed her mind at the last minute and …’

‘Didn’t she?’ Simon asked her sardonically. ‘I think you’ll discover that Susie never had the slightest intention of coming down here. If I’d given it more thought at the appropriate time, I should have guessed she’d given you a red herring. Susie was never overly fond of the place. She’d certainly never choose it as a lovers’ rendezvous.’

‘Susie loved it down here,’ Jenna protested. ‘We both did.’

The look Simon gave her as he turned to study her upturned face in the darkness of the hall made her feel odd—weak and vulnerable, somehow, as though she had said something very betraying.

‘Susie’s a city dweller,’ Simon told her. ‘Not like you. What made you go and live in London? I thought you were going to spend the rest of your life in Gloucestershire.’

‘What as?’ Jenna asked him bitterly. ‘The village spinster?’

Simon ignored her gibe and added tauntingly, ‘What happened to the husband and two-point-two offspring you were so convinced you wanted?’

‘That was when I was fifteen—I’ve changed since then.’

‘Yes, yes, I believe you have. Stay here, I’ll go down to the cellar and get the lamps.’

Much as she objected to his high-handed manner, Jenna knew there was little point in following him down the steep flight of stone steps into the cellar.

The house was built into the cliff side, and as teenagers she and Susie had amused themselves by searching the stone rooms for secret doorways that might conceal passages down inside the cliff face, as in the best tradition of smuggling stories. Or rather, she had amused herself, Jenna realised painfully. Susie had always been rather inclined to scoff at her romantic imaginings.

She made her way to the larger of the cottage’s two sitting-rooms, and pushed open the door. In the dim light she could see that the furniture was swathed in covers. The air smelled cold and faintly stale, and she went over to open one of the windows.

Simon was right, there was little point in her driving back to London tonight, and yet she still felt a small prickle of unease at the thought of being alone here with him. It was ironic really, when for so many years she had been filled with foolishly romantic dreams of just such an event.

How old had she been when she had become infatuated with him? Fifteen? Fifteen! Why deceive herself? she asked herself ironically. She could remember exactly when it had happened. It had been here at this very house, the summer she was fifteen. Simon had made an unexpected visit and she had been sitting in the garden when he arrived. Tall and bronzed from his French Riviera holiday, where he had been crewing on a friend’s yacht, she had watched him come towards her. Jenna had been alone at the time, Susie and her parents having gone into the nearest town to do some shopping.

Her heart had almost seemed to stop beating, lurching into her throat. She hadn’t been able to speak or even breathe …

Thank heavens she had managed to keep her feelings to herself, and that no one had ever guessed how she felt. Once or twice she had felt a thrill of fear at the thought that Simon might have realised, but apart from the odd teasing comment, delivered in much the same brotherly manner he used towards Susie, he had rarely even spoken to her.

The arrival of his latest, equally tall and tanned girlfriend had brought home to her the impossibility of her romantic yearnings, and when towards the end of the holiday she and Susie had become engaged in a heated conversation about how they wanted to spend the rest of their lives, Elena had laughed in derision when Jenna had mentioned her own wish to settle down and have a family.

‘You see, Simon,’ she had said laughingly, ‘you should always avoid quiet, plain little girls, they always have marriage on their minds.’

Jenna had been hurt by the older girl’s cruel remark, but after all there had been nothing personal in it. Since her arrival they had hardly seen anything of her or Simon. They went out together every day in Simon’s small sports car, returning only briefly at supper time to eat and change to go out again.

Her infatuation for Simon had died quite quickly, but it had left her with a curious antipathy towards him, an unease when in his company that made her restless and on edge.

She heard him coming back, and heard him swear as he stumbled into something.

‘I’ve found the lamps, but there doesn’t seem to be any fuel for them.’

‘It’s in the garage,’ Jenna told him.

He cursed again.

‘Only a woman could do something as idiotic as that! Why on earth isn’t it with the lamps?’

‘Because I believe your father considered that it was safer to fill and light the lamps outside than in the confined space of the cellar,’ Jenna told him coldly.

‘Ah, I see … Very well then, I consider myself well and truly put in my place, and take back everything I have said about your sex, Jenna. Will that do? Have I made amends?’

‘I’ll go upstairs and see if I can sort out some bedding,’ Jenna told him, ignoring his taunting remark. ‘I wonder if your mother still keeps those sleeping-bags down here?’

‘I don’t know. It must be a couple of years since anyone was last down. My father was talking about selling the place.’

Jenna only just managed to suppress her instinctive protest, reminding herself that whatever Susie’s family might choose to do with their cottage was really no concern of hers. But so many of the happier memories of her childhood centred round this weathered, unprotected dwelling. She was being sentimental, she told herself as she went upstairs and made her way to the small walk-in airing cupboard.

Without any proper light it was impossible to find what she was looking for, so she resigned herself to await Simon’s return.

He wasn’t long. She heard the door bang as he came inside, and then saw the glow from the two lamps he was carrying.

He brought one up to her, leaving the other at the foot of the stairs.

‘Here, this what you’re after?’ he asked, tugging on the neatly folded, familiar sleeping-bags.

‘Yes, I thought it would make more sense to use these than to bother making up the beds.’

‘I agree. I was having a root in the kitchen before you arrived. I think I’ve managed to locate a jar of instant coffee and some powdered milk. Mrs M must leave it here for when she comes to do her monthly check.’

Mrs Magellan was the wife of the local garage proprietor. She had a key for the cottage and came up once a month to clean and check that all was in order.

‘I thought I’d use Susie’s and my room,’ Jenna suggested, handing Simon one of the sleeping-bags, and turning away from him.

She and Susie had shared the smallest bedroom, tucked up under the eaves, and she headed for it instinctively.

She only realised that Simon had followed her when she saw the golden glow of the lamp reflecting against the polished wood of the door.

She turned the handle and the lamp illuminated the interior of the small room. The two single beds that once occupied it had been dismantled and an ominous dark stain covered part of the ceiling.

‘Damn! I forgot … Dad did say something about the roof losing some slates during a bad storm. Let’s hope that the damage is just restricted to this room.’

It wasn’t … Out of the cottage’s four bedrooms, only one remained damp free.

It would, of course, have to be Simon’s, although his single bed had gone and in its place was the double bed that had once been in his parents’ room.

‘Well, Jenna,’ Simon announced when they had both surveyed the room in silence, ‘it looks that at long last all your girlish dreams are going to come true and you get to spend the night with me … I take it that you will … er … behave like a lady?’

Jenna could have hit him. All those years when she thought she had successfully hidden that embarrassing teenage crush from him, and now he casually let her know that she hadn’t! What was more, he actually dared to taunt her with the fact, and to add insult to injury.

‘Don’t worry, Simon,’ she told him with acid sweetness. ‘I’m rather fussy about whom I sleep with—one has to be these days. You’ll be quite safe … I’ll sleep downstairs.’

‘Oh, well, at least you won’t be alone,’ he responded comfortingly. ‘From the signs I saw in the kitchen, it looks like a whole colony of mice have taken up residence. I suppose they must have come in from the fields.’

All her life Jenna had had an irrational fear of the small, furry creatures and now immediately she tensed, visions of an entire army of them frolicking over her recumbent form as she slept tormenting her. She shuddered.

‘You’re lying to me.’

Simon’s eyebrows rose.

‘Why on earth should I? You don’t actually think I have evil designs upon you, do you?’

Put like that it sounded ridiculous. Of course he didn’t want her, she knew that, but she also knew that for some reason he seemed to delight in tormenting her. Tormenting her? How could lying on the same mattress while securely wrapped up in her own sleeping-bag possibly torment her?

‘Look, I’m shattered. You make whatever arrangements you choose, Jenna, but if you’ll excuse me I want to get some sleep.’

‘Do you want to take the lamp or …’

Reluctantly she picked up her sleeping-bag and walked over to the bed.

Behind her she heard the bedroom door swing shut and for some ridiculous reason she felt as though she had walked into a well-sprung trap.

‘I’ll let you have first go at the bathroom,’ Simon offered magnanimously, ‘but I warn you, the water is like ice.’

It came from an underground well and Jenna shivered in remembered dread of its icy sting.

She went down to the car to fetch her overnight case, acknowledging the impossibility of using the two shaped seats as a makeshift bed. She was aching all over with tension and tiredness.

She heard Simon moving about in the kitchen as she walked in.

‘Fancy a cup of cocoa? I’ve found some at the back of the cupboard, although heaven only knows what it will taste like with dried milk.’

She was thirsty, and perhaps it would be as well if, for this one night at least, she put her resentment of him behind her.

‘Yes, please.’

‘OK. I’ll bring it up when it’s ready.’

By the time she heard his footsteps on the stairs, she was undressed and tucked up inside her sleeping-bag. It occurred to her that in anyone other than Simon she could have taken his delay as a gentlemanly acknowledgement of her modesty, but since when had Simon ever bothered to take her feelings into account over anything?

The cocoa was surprisingly good, warming her chilled hands as she cradled the mug.

Simon disappeared into the bathroom, and was gone long enough for her to finish her drink and snuggle down into her sleeping bag.

She felt the bed dip and heard the rustle of the nylon fabric as he made himself comfortable, and then the room was plunged into darkness as he extinguished the light.

Some time during the night she dreamed that she was freezing cold, ploughing through numbing wastes of snow, and then deliciously she was warm again. She smiled in her sleep, completely unaware of the fact that the reason she was now so warm was that Simon had unzipped their separate sleeping-bags and then zipped them together to provide extra warmth.

It also brought Jenna into much closer contact with his warm body as he lay against her back!