Page 68 of The Love Letter

Simon handed over the Jaguar, the driving of which had been the one pleasure of the past three days, and climbed back into his own car. He only hoped that he was now ‘relieved’ of his special duty and could get back to the real meat of his job.

He drove up to north London, wishing fervently he was not arriving home to an empty flat. On impulse, he hung a right at the crossing and drove past Joanna’s flat. Seeing the lights were on, he parked his car outside, got out and went to ring the bell.

He saw Joanna peer out of the window, and then open the front door.

‘Hello,’ she said.

He could sense she wasn’t pleased to see him. ‘Have I called at a bad time?’

‘A bit, yes. I’m just writing up an article for tomorrow.’ She hung about in the doorway, obviously reluctant to invite him in.

‘Okay. I was only passing.’

‘You look tired,’ said Joanna, torn between asking him why he looked so miserable, and not wanting to let him in.

‘I am. I’ve had a busy weekend.’

‘Join the club. Everything okay?’

He nodded, not quite meeting her eye. ‘Yes, everything’s fine. Give me a ring and come round to supper sometime. We’ve got things to catch up on.’

‘Yes.’ Joanna regarded him, knowing something was wrong and feeling horribly guilty at her refusal to invite him in. But she just couldn’t trust him any longer. ‘I will.’

‘Bye then.’ Simon stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked back down the path.

Zoe was just relaxing in a hot bath when she heard the doorbell ring.

‘Damn.’ She lay there hoping the caller would go away. It couldn’t be Art; he was still travelling back from Sandringham, and she’d spoken to Jamie at school earlier.

The doorbell rang again. Giving up, she grabbed a towel and dripped down the stairs.

‘Who is it?’ she called through the door.

‘Your darling brother, sweetheart.’

‘Come in! I’m going to get my robe, then I’ll be down.’ Opening the door, she flew back up the stairs, returning five minutes later to the sitting room. ‘You look well, Marcus. Plus, you haven’t made yourself a drink yet, and you’ve been here all of five minutes.’

‘The love of a good woman, that’s what it is.’

‘I see, who is she?’

‘Tell you in a bit. How’s filming going?’ he asked.

‘Well. I’m enjoying it.’

‘You look radiant, Zo.’

‘Do I?’

‘The love of a good man, maybe?’ Marcus fished.

‘Ha! You know me, wedded to my art and my child.’ Zoe smiled at him innocently. ‘Tell me, who is this woman who has put you on the path to sobriety?’

‘I wouldn’t go that far, but yes, I really think she might be the “one”. How do you fancy meeting her over dinner tomorrow night at the bistro round the corner from me? My treat. Then you can take a look at her. You know I’ve always trusted your opinion.’

‘Have you?’ She frowned. ‘I don’t think so, but yes, of course I’ll come and meet her.’

The sound of a mobile emanated from somewhere in the room. Zoe stood up and began searching for her handbag. She located it by the doorway and pulled the phone out. ‘Hello?’