When he switched the phone off he turned to her and said quietly, ‘They want to run an article focussing on all the models who were killed or seriously injured in the blast. They want to run a sensitive tribute to them, with the correct permissions of course.’
Anna nodded. ‘Better than some rag who is only going to sensationalise it all.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ he agreed. As he turned to leave the room, he was stopped in his tracks as another image flashed up onto the television screen. It was the two of them outside the venue, Daniel looking tenderly at her as her hand touched thewound on her face. Anna’s stomach lurched and her mouth went dry. Daniel Redfern looked like a man who was in love. She turned her gaze away from the screen and back to him. He was looking at her in exactly the same way as he had been last night.
Silently they moved towards each other. Just as they were only inches apart, and seconds away from the kiss she was aching for, his phone rang. Looking startled, he answered it, but after a few curt responses, switched it off.
‘Gutter press,’ he said in answer to her unspoken question. ‘They won’t get anything from me.’
She nodded. ‘Me neither.’
‘I’d better get those photos sent over and then I’ll give you a lift home.’
When he left the room she felt bereft. His words had left her in no doubt that she’d been dismissed. Once more the moment had been lost — she wondered if they would ever be able to get back to that point again.
Chapter Eighteen
It was strange working in the studio without Daniel. Anna kept expecting him to walk through the door at any moment, but of course he didn’t. She couldn’t help wondering what he was doing — whether he was getting to spend more time with Ben, as he’d said he had wanted to. She imagined him doing the school runs and going to the park or out for pizza in the evenings. She also wondered if he was working on his plans for a photography school. She still hadn’t had a chance to ask him how his future plans might affect her. She supposed she’d just have to wait and see, though she didn’t like that her future depended so much on someone else’s decisions. But after Monday, she realised that no one could really know what lay around the corner.
She had returned home on Tuesday to an almost hero’s welcome. Both her dad and Harry were so pleased to see her, and even Daisy had stopped by after work. Everyone wanted to know what had happened. As she had to go through it all again, the memory of it terrified her. Every night she relived it in her dreams, often waking with a start, sweat bathing her body. On Wednesday she’d visited the hospital in an attempt to see how Eva was doing. The nurses had told her that she was stable but, at the moment, she was only receiving family visitors. Anna wrote her a note, telling her she wished her well in her recovery, and went back home.
On Thursday, with everyone out at work, Anna had decided to come into the studio. Her exhibition was in two weeks’ time and there was plenty to be done. Besides, she reasoned, keeping busy would occupy her mind. Despite her best efforts, though, she couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel and how he had nearly kissed her, twice. She wondered what would have happened on Tuesday if they hadn’t been interrupted. Perhaps it was best thatthey had, and that Daniel was now in Cheshire. The last thing she needed in her life was any more complications.
She was deep in concentration, studying a photo she’d taken recently of the River Thames, from the outside of the Angel pub, wondering why it wasn’t quite right, when her phone rang. She picked it up without thinking, half-hoping it would be Daniel.
‘Hi, Anna, it’s Mark. How are you?’
For a moment she was startled by the sound of his voice, but eventually she managed to reply, ‘I’m fine, thanks. How are you?’
‘Good. I’ve been reading about you in the news and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.’
‘Yes, I’m fine, just a few cuts and bruises.’
‘It must have been terrifying.’
‘Yes, it was.’ It was strange to be speaking to him like this after the way they’d parted. Strange and a little disconcerting.
‘Lucky you had Redfern by your side, then.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I must say you two seem to be getting along. It hasn’t taken you long to work your magic on him, has it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That photo of the two of you. You certainly looked close.’
She recognised the sneer in his voice — a cold shudder ran down her spine. The photo had been splashed across the papers with the caption, “Daniel Redfern and his pretty assistant, survivors of the explosion.”
‘We’d just been through a very traumatic experience and he was concerned that I was injured. That’s all that photo was,’ she said, trying to defend herself. To defend them both.
‘If you say so, but you of all people know that a picture paints a thousand words.’
‘And two and two doesn’t make five. Is there anything else you want to say, Mark? Only I’m very busy—’
‘I’m sure you are. Not long until your exhibition now, is it? And I hear Redfern is sponsoring that too. Very cosy.’
Briefly she wondered how he knew about the exhibition. Charlotte hadn’t even told her yet where it was being held, which was beyond frustrating, but perhaps he’d heard through the grapevine. The gallery world was very small after all, and full of gossips.
