Part 20 (1/2)

'And a d.a.m.n sight less dangerous than organised religion.'

'Pardon?'

'I'm pretty sure Iris never started a war or burned anyone at the stake.'

Patrick faltered, then rallied. 'Well, yes. I suppose that's true.'

'And you're interested in taking a peek in her diary in case there's some juicy gossip about your colleagues, employees, whatever.'

'No!'

'What, then?'

'As a businessman, sometimes I make investments, back community projects, that kind of thing. It's sound practice to research people who I may be entrusting with considerable sums of money.'

Gwen nodded. 'And you wondered whether any of these potential business a.s.sociates had visited Iris and told her all about the time they lost a ton of cash or built a housing estate on marshland or-'

'Nothing salacious. Just anything that might be pertinent to my business interests. I wouldn't expect you to show me things that weren't of my concern. You could vet the information first.'

'I don't believe this,' Gwen began. 'If you think I'm going to show you my aunt's private papers-' She broke off as she realised that Elaine had stood up and was walking purposefully towards her table.

'I can see I'm wasting my time,' Patrick was saying.

'h.e.l.lo, Gwen. You haven't changed a bit.' Elaine's cut-gla.s.s tone was as terrifying as it had been back when she was a teenager.

Patrick stood up quickly. 'Elaine! You look radiant as always.'

'Don't talk drivel, Patrick,' Elaine said, looking pleased. 'I'm simply haggard at the moment. Too much to do, too little time.'

'Would you care to join us?' Patrick looked around for a waiter.

'No, thank you. I just had to take a closer look at Gwen here. I didn't know whether to believe the rumours.'

'Believe them,' Gwen said. 'I'm back.'

'Not for long, I hope.'

Gwen was staggered by her open hostility. Patrick didn't seem sure what to say, either.

'I don't see what business it is of yours,' Gwen managed.

'We were just having a spot of lunch,' Patrick said, indicating the plates of food unnecessarily.

'Well,' Elaine said. She gave Gwen a swooping look up and down. 'I hope you manage to conclude whatever business you believe you have here.'

After she'd walked away, Patrick gave Gwen a questioning look. 'I didn't know you knew Elaine Laing.'

Gwen shrugged. 'I don't. Not really.'

'Well, I hope you'll think about my request. I might be able to help you settle into Pendleford, if that's what you decide you want. Smooth the way.' Patrick nodded in the direction of Elaine's retreating figure.

'I wouldn't let you look at my great-aunt's private material if it would make the entire community council prostrate themselves in front of me.'

'There's no need to be vulgar,' Patrick said. 'I can see this is a waste of everybody's time.'

'Not at all,' Gwen said, getting up to leave. 'It's been very eye-opening.' The only question in Gwen's mind now was: how badly did Patrick Allen want the information in Iris's diaries? Enough to have broken into End House? Gwen hadn't got enough of a sniff to know whether his aftershave matched the one she'd smelled before. She tried to picture Patrick Allen breaking into her house and smas.h.i.+ng up her boiler, but it was difficult. He didn't seem the type with his manicured hands and cut-gla.s.s accent ... But appearances could be so deceptive.

Chapter 13.

After another broken night, turning over and over in her bed, unable to get comfortable, unable to switch off the 'Cam and Gwen' show in her mind, Gwen was half-mad with exhaustion. She put on her headphones and turned the music up to wake herself up, but clas.h.i.+ng guitars just reminded her of Cam. She pressed shuffle on her iPod until an acoustic track came on, but that was worse. A song that she'd avoided for the last decade because it reminded her of Cam started playing, as if to taunt her. Dave Grohl's gravelly voice over a driving chord pattern. He breathed directly into Gwen's ears, wondering if 'anything could feel this real forever'. She tried to work on her shadow boxes, but made mistake after mistake until the frustration became unbearable.

At six o'clock, she trailed into the kitchen, but was too jumpy to cook. At seven o'clock, she realised she felt achingly empty, so she ate a bowl of cereal and two slices of cake. It didn't help.

At eight o'clock, she gave in. She called Cam and said, 'Okay.'

'Okay?'

Instantly, her nerve fled. 'Forget it. I'll see you-'

'No. Give me five minutes.'

His urgency made Gwen smile. The wild feeling was back. One night with Cam. She s.h.i.+vered.

The next ten minutes pa.s.sed in a whirlwind of activity. Gwen sprayed perfume on her wrists and neck, threw stray clothes into the laundry basket and lit candles in the bedroom. She closed the curtains and surveyed the effect. It looked nice. Seductive. Terror clenched her insides. This was crazy. She blew out the candles.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Gwen ran downstairs, then paused to comb her hair away from her face with her fingers, and opened the door.

'I drove as fast as was legal.'

Gwen was breathless. 'I was just ... I don't know. I was just thinking about you. About us. And that thing you said.'

Cam smiled his crooked smile and stepped towards her.

The jolt of recognition as his lips touched hers threw Gwen hurtling back in time. He smelled the same, tasted the same, and his arms around her felt the same. She leaned into the kiss, her l.u.s.t going from nought-to-sixty in an instant.

'Upstairs?' Cam broke the kiss to ask. Gwen squashed the tiny feeling of disappointment. Thirteen years ago, he would've had her naked on the hall floor. Then he kissed her again and all other feelings fled. It was Cam.

Gwen took his hand and led the way upstairs, feeling wild and excited and powerful. As soon as they got to the bedroom, though, everything changed. Gwen kicked off her slippers, feeling suddenly nervous. Now that they weren't actually kissing, the whole thing seemed a little ridiculous. What was the saying? You can never go back.

Cam paused. A strange expression ghosted across his face. 'I don't know about this.'

'Oh for Christ's sake,' Gwen said. It was one thing for her to feel unsure, but it was insulting for him to have second thoughts. She was a definite thing, for goodness' sake. Weren't men supposed to be driven by l.u.s.t alone? 'Are you always this indecisive? Must really impress them in court.'