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Like blazes! Her parents may have been close at one time, but they were poles apart now, and both liking it that way. Taye shook her head, her lips sealed. ‘How about your parents?’
Abruptly any sign of good humour left him. ‘What about them?’ he asked shortly.
And she was just a little bit fed up with Mr Blow Hot, Blow Cold Magnus Ashthorpe. Though tenacious if nothing else, and always believing that fair was fair and she had after all told him about her parents, ‘Are they still married?’ she asked. ‘I take it they were married?’ she asked sweetly.
He didn’t think that funny, she observed, as a sudden glint came into his eyes. ‘My father was killed in an accident when I was fifteen.’
‘I’m sorry.’ The apology had come instinctively. ‘Have you any brothers or sisters?’ she enquired gently—and wondered as his expression hardened what she had done now.
‘That’s none of your business!’ he retorted bluntly.
Taye stood up and this time he did nothing to prevent her from leaving. ‘I made the tea,’ she said pointedly. ‘It wouldn’t hurt you to wash the cups and saucers.’ With that she put her nose in the air and stormed out. It wasn’t a brilliant exit line, but it was the best she could think of on the spur of the moment.
Thankfully she saw little of him the next day. And on Tuesday she woke up and made herself think not long now before she got rid of him. From where she was viewing it, though, July and August, not to mention September, were going to stretch out endlessly.
She worked late on Wednesday, but found, Magnus home before her, that there was a mild thawing of hostilities in that, making tea for himself, he actually offered her a cup. ‘Good day at work?’ he enquired when, choosing to drink her tea in the kitchen, she pulled out a chair and he followed suit.
‘Not bad,’ she answered, not trusting him—he was as changeable as the wind.
‘Where do you work?’ he wanted to know. He had been living under the same roof for a week and only now he wanted to make overtures of friendship? He could take a running jump.
‘Julian Coombs Comestibles,’ she answered briefly.
‘Which is where you met Julian Coombs Junior?’
Again Taye had an uncanny feeling that she was being given the third degree. But she’d had some of this merchant before, with his draw-her-out tactics and then, when she started asking questions in return, slapping her down.
‘True,’ she answered warily.
‘How long have you been going out with him?’ Magnus asked crisply.
She expected the big freeze any moment now. ‘Long enough,’ she replied.
He let that pass, but, ‘What do you do there—at Coombs Comestibles?’ he wanted to know.
He could not possibly be interested. But, perhaps he wanted to build a few bridges this time. She gave him the benefit of the doubt. ‘I work for the Finance Director,’ she conceded a little.
‘You’re an accountant?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t have any qualifications. I just sort of seem to have a head that’s happy absorbing numbers,’ she answered modestly, aware that she was quite well thought of at Julian Coombs Comestibles. ‘I seem to have inherited my father’s aptitude for figure work,’ she expanded, then decided, for all Magnus Ashthorpe appeared to look interested, that she had said quite sufficient.
‘Your father’s a mathematician?’
‘He did at one time work in the upper echelons of complicated calculations, but he’s a farm hand now,’ she replied. ‘Though he still keeps his hand in with accountancy,’ she added, and explained, ‘Only last weekend he was saying how he’d taken a look at his employer’s figure-work to help out, and now seems to be doing more paperwork than anything else.’
‘And he’s happy with that?’
Taye thought back to last weekend. She had never seen him look more contented. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. But, getting to her feet, ‘And now I’d better dash. Julian’s picking me up in half an hour.’
She looked at Magnus, mentally daring him to make some snide remark about her ‘lover’. And it was true, he did look as though he was about to lob some acid remark her way.
She braced herself. But when it came, it was a dry, ‘I’ll see to the cups and saucers, then, shall I?’
Taye left him, only just holding down a laugh. She reached her room and discovered she was smiling anyway. What was it about the man? Never, ever had she come across such a one. He could make her angry, furious, bring her to the brink of tears and, in a split second, he could make her want to laugh.
What it was she could not tell, and in the end she gave up trying to puzzle it out and started to get ready to go for a light meal with Julian. There was a new pizza parlour he had heard of and thought they might like to give it a try.
Taye left her office at the end of her working week knowing that she should go to Pemberton and see her brother and mother. The thing was, though, that she had an idea that her father was planning to make the trip to Pemberton this weekend. And, on balance, Taye thought she would not be doing her father any favours by being there. She knew in advance that he was in for an uncomfortable time, and such was his sensitivity he would by far prefer that she was not around as a witness.
Which meant, of course, that she would really have to make that visit the following weekend. It would not be a very pleasant weekend; she knew that in advance too. All she could hope was that in the days between her father’s visit and her own her mother would have had time to cool down.
Magnus was first home. It was the greyish sort of day that sometimes happened in June. Taye suspected the light in his attic studio must have defeated him. Artists needed plenty of good light—didn’t they?
He was in the shower. She saw no harm in making them both a cup of tea while she waited. She dropped her bag and bits of shopping down and had just set the kettle to boil when a phone rang. It was not her phone. She looked about and saw Magnus’s phone on one of the work surfaces. She went over and looked down at it. ‘Elspeth’ she read, and as Taye saw it she had two—no, three choices. She could take the phone to the bathroom to him. No, thank you. She could ignore it. Or she could answer it. Oh, he’d just love that wouldn’t he? Her having a cosy chat with his girlfriend!
Taye chose the middle option and ignored it, and, changing her mind about tea, went to get out of her office clothes. Wearing a light satin kimono, her father’s Christmas gift, she got out the trousers and top she intended to wear for her date with Julian that night. She pinned her hair up so it shouldn’t get soaked in the shower, and then heard the bathroom door open.
Believing she had given Magnus time to get clear, she left her room—and met him, robe clad. His hair was pushed back, damp and black, and she glanced down and found she was thinking what nice legs he had. Then all at once she was so tongue-tied by the idiocy of that thought that she could not think to say good evening. She switched her gaze abruptly upwards. Magnus was not saying anything either, but seemed taken by her white-blonde hair all bundled up any old how on top of her head.
Then his faintly amused grey eyes had transferred to her blue eyes, and, not liking to be an object of fun, Taye found her voice and blurted out, ‘Elspeth rang.’
My word, had she said the wrong thing! On the instant his expression darkened. ‘You spoke to her?’ he grated, outraged in a moment. ‘You answered my phone!’ he snarled. ‘You—’
Taye was not far behind when it came to instant fury. ‘Would I dare?’ She cut through what he was about to say. ‘It lit up!’ she hurled at him. ‘And I can read!’
With that, she pushed past him and went fuming into the bathroom. My heavens, what a man! He was a monster! Thank goodness she had a whole three months in which to take her time and find herself a more congenial flat-mate. Oh, she could hardly wait to give Magnus Ashthorpe his marching orders!
Taye fastened her thoughts on that and started to feel better suddenly—she did so look forward to telling him goodbye. In fact she had never looked forward to anything so much. Oh, what pleasure, oh what joy. She did not know how she would be able to wait to wish him good riddance as she slammed the door shut after him!
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