‘It never used to. You never used to see him from one week to the next.’ Her words cut into him as they always did, more so because she was right. But that was then. It was different now. ‘Shall I tell Ben the trip’s off, then? Because his father won’t let him go?’
‘No, of course not.’ How could he possibly compete with a trip to Disney? Either way it was a lose-lose situation, for him at least. ‘But you might have given me a bit more notice.’
‘I only just found out myself.’
‘Typical. Tell Axel that if he wants to take my son anywhere, in future, he does it on your time, not mine. Don’t start messing me around, Lucinda, or you’ll be hearing from my solicitor.’
‘Oh, Danny, don’t be like that. As I said, he’s only trying to do something nice.’
He cringed at the shortened version of his name that onlysheever used. A term of endearment he didn’t want to hear anymore.
‘Well, seeing as I can’t see my son, can I at least speak to him?’
‘Sorry, darling, he’s gone out with Axel to get some treats for the journey. I’ll get him to video call you when we get there.’
‘Make sure you do.’ Daniel ended the call as the doorbell rang.
* * *
Anna finally found where her interview was — a white-fronted Georgian house, on a terrace of other white-fronted Georgian houses, each with railed steps up to brightly coloured front doors. Without an umbrella, her painstakinglystraightened hair was framing her face in unsightly strings, and her new black suit, which she’d thought had fitted her so well, was limp and sodden. So not only was she fifteen minutes late but she looked like a drowned rat. She just hoped that she had made it at all showed her determination. In a hurry, Anna climbed the steps to Daniel Redfern’s house and rang the bell, praying her make-up hadn’t run and mascara wasn’t now streaking her face.
‘Oh my!’ The woman who opened the door was tall and slim, with a dark-brown shiny bob. She wore a crisp white linen shirt, buckled at the waist, and wide-legged black trousers. The whole effect was incredibly chic.
‘Hi, I’m, erm, I’m Anna Wright.’ Anna reached to wipe away a raindrop that was rolling down her forehead.
‘You’re here for the interview?’ the woman asked in a clear, clipped, upper-class voice.
‘Yes,’ Anna replied. ‘I’m sorry, I’m a bit late. I got lost.’
‘Of course, what am I thinking, leaving you dripping on the doorstep? Come on in.’
Anna walked through the door into the entrance hall, conscious of the obviously expensive parquet flooring beneath her wet feet.
‘Here, let me get you a towel.’ The woman disappeared behind a door further down the hallway. When she returned, proffering a white towel, thick and luxurious, Anna took it from her gratefully and began to dab her face, wondering if this day could possibly get any worse.
‘Let me take your jacket. It’s sopping wet,’ the woman said. ‘And then maybe you’d like to use the facilities?’
‘Yes, please.’ Anna shrugged herself out of her suit jacket and handed over the limp offering.
‘It’s just down here.’ The woman led her to a downstairs cloakroom.
‘Thank you.’
She closed the door behind her and searched in her handbag for a brush. She looked in the large ornate mirror. Her dark red hair was plastered to her head in a wet mess. She brushed it through, water dripping onto the floor. She looked a state, but she would just have to do her best, get the interview over with and leave. She’d probably blown any chance she might have had of getting the job anyway, so she had nothing to lose.
‘Is that her? Finally.’ A gruff voice came through the doorway.
‘Anna Wright, yes. She got caught in the rain, poor thing.’
‘She should have been on time, maybe then she would have avoided the rain.’
Anna quaked at his words. She presumed this was Daniel Redfern and he sounded as bad-tempered as his reputation suggested. She put her hairbrush back in her bag and opened the door.
He was standing in the hallway, looking even more handsome in the flesh than he did on social media, except for the deeply grooved frown creasing his forehead.
‘Hi, I’m Anna Wright,’ she said, holding out her hand for him to shake. He ignored it. Feeling like a fool, she returned it quickly to her side.
‘You’re late.’
