Part 10 (1/2)

Besides, she genuinely liked Tim.

”There--there isn't anyone at the moment,” she began, 'but--' ”But you don't want to get involved,” he concluded wryly for her.

”Just my luck, but this doesn't mean that we can't be friends, I hope?”

”We can be friends,” Nicola agreed.

”Nicola, I haven't mentioned it to you yet, but there's a conference coming up that both of us ought to attend, according to Matt. It's being held near Bournemouth at the Grand Hotel, over the weekend of the twenty-eighth. Matt considers this conference to be very important, since it deals with various environmental issues concerning the building trade. Will you be able to come?”

Nicola nodded her head.

”It sounds interesting,” she commented.

”How long does the conference last?”

”Only a couple of days. We'll be leaving here mid-morning Friday, and we should be back Sunday evening.”

They discussed the issues likely to be raised by the conference for a few minutes before Evie appeared to say that Tim was needed in the yard.

Later that evening, when she was telling her parents about the conference, her father commented approvingly, ”A sound decision on Matthew Hunt's part, getting his business geared up in tune with the environmental issues we're all going to be confronting this coming decade. Those businesses which are first off the block in being environmentally aware are the ones which are going to be the most successful.”

That night when she went to bed Nicola wondered if Matt would be attending the conference, her body quickening with sharply painful desire.

It didn't matter how often she told herself not to do so, she couldn't seem to stop herself from thinking about him . from wanting him. from loving him.

Three days before the conference, the foreman handed in his resignation, announcing that he was going to set up in business on his own account. After he had dealt with him, Tim turned to Nicola and commented wryly, ”I wonder how many of our men he plans to take with him.”

”If it's any comfort I doubt that any who go will stay with him for very long,” Nicola told him.

”Maybe so, but--Look, I'm going to have to go out on site. If necessary, until we can find a replacement, I'm going to have to become an acting foreman myself.

”I've done it before. Matt came into the business the hard way himself, and he's pretty keen on all his managers at least having a basic working knowledge of the physical aspects of the building trade.

Matt was a bit of a rebel when he was younger, apparently.

”He could have joined his father in the City, but instead he chose to leave school early and take off round the world. That was how he picked up his various building skills, and then, when he came back, he worked his way through university, and then decided to set up his own construction business--very small-time at first...”

A rebel. That accorded with the Matthew Hunt she remembered . the Matthew Hunt with his well-worn clothes, his casual manner, his pirate's smile, his easy insouciance after their shared night of s.e.x.

She gave a tiny s.h.i.+ver. A man, given the will to do so, could escape from the follies of his youth, and even be considered by some to be a better man for having lived through them; but a woman, even in these modern times, was still judged in a different way.

On the Thursday before the conference, Tim came into the office late in the morning and announced that he would be spending the rest of the day on one of the sites where they had run into some problems.

”Without a foreman, I really need to be there to keep an eye on what's going on. Will you be OK here? Silly question,” he continued without letting her answer.

”Of course you will. You know, in many ways you're wasted here, Nicola. You're a first-cla.s.s administrator; you could become a real high-flyer if you chose...”

”I don't choose,” she told him, adding grimly, ”I've tried city life when I was younger, and I didn't like it.”

”No? Well, you aren't alone in that. Men as well as women are beginning to wonder if they're sacrificing too much to their careers.

Personally, I'm against a single-minded obsession with work.

”You're OK for tomorrow, aren't you? We're leaving here mid-mo ming--might as well travel there together. Pointless taking two cars...”

”Yes, my father's going to drop me off in the morning. Save me having to leave my car parked here all weekend.”

Because she wanted to clear her desk, leaving only the post to be dealt with in the morning, Nicola worked late on Thursday evening.

Tim hadn't returned to the office, and the communicating door between her office and his was closed. Several times after Evie had left she looked at it, trying not to fall into the trap of fantasising that the room beyond her own wasn't really empty at all, and that she only had to open the door to see Matt sitting at his desk working.

Once, on a ridiculous impulse, she even got up and walked across her own office, opening the door and standing there, staring hungrily at the empty desk, mentally picturing Matt's lean frame on the other side of it.

There was a huge lump in her throat, an agony of need and love that was almost a physical pain, and there was anger as well. anger against herself that she should behave so foolishly, so self-indulgently, and so potentially selfdestructively.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

at eight o'clock on Friday morning, Nicola's father dropped her off in the yard. She had her suitcase with her, containing all that she needed for the weekend.

The suit she was wearing wasn't new, but she felt comfortable in it, and it travelled well, even though the plain grey skirt seemed to have shrunk a little the last time it was cleaned, so that it was a little bit shorter than she would have liked.

The jacket that went with it was long and double-breasted, a fine red line breaking up the plainness of the silky lightweight woollen fabric. The suit had been expensive, but well worth the money she had paid for it, as Evie confirmed when she walked into the office an hour later and admired.

”You look great! Really brill... Pity you didn't have a bright red s.h.i.+rt to wear with it, though.”

Nicola hid a smile. Her plain cream silk s.h.i.+rt was a deliberate choice. Not for her the scarlet that Evie would plainly have preferred.

A tiny frown married her forehead. Once she had worn scarlet. A scarlet lipstick. Her hand trembled a little as she slid a piece of paper into her machine.

She had another suit in her case, and a pair of neat pleated walking shorts and a thick sweater, just in case any impromptu meetings took place in the large grounds that surrounded the hotel; in her experience there was nothing more uncomfortable than trying to walk across a smooth lawn in high-heeled shoes, and the shorts were tailored enough to reinforce her business image.

It had been her mother who had pointed out that there could well be a certain amount of formality over dinner on Sat.u.r.day evening, suggesting that it might be as well for her to take a dress with her.

Unwillingly she had allowed herself to be persuaded into adding her navy silk-unwillingly, because she didn't think she could ever wear it again without thinking about Matt. without remembering how he had held her and kissed her.

They had been due to leave at ten-thirty and, when Tim had not arrived at that time, Nicola checked her watch a little anxiously.

She knew that he had intended to visit a couple of the sites before they left, but she had no idea which ones and, since three of their sites were ones which couldn't be reached by phone, she was just wondering anxiously what she should do, when Evie exclaimed excitedly, ”Matt--Mr. Hunt has just arrived!”

Nicola had barely managed to quell the frantic, sickening twisting in her stomach when the door opened and Matt walked in.

He was wearing a suit, a very expensive and well-tailored suit, she noticed, an immaculate half-inch of laundered white cuff protruding from its dark-clothed sleeves.

”If you've come to see Tim, I'm afraid--' ” I haven't. ”