Page 81 of The Love Letter


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‘What’s that?’

‘I’m afraid the one thing the powers that be – and myself to be honest – must insist on is that we install a personal security officer with you at home. Just in case.’

‘In case of what?’ Zoe was outraged. ‘In my house?’

‘Darling, calm down. You’re the one who says you want this to remain our secret for as long as possible. A personal protection officer – a bodyguard to all intents and purposes – is also responsible for being your forward defence. He can be useful in making sure that there’s no one lurking outside, bugging your house or listening to your calls. You know all too well that the minute you become entangled with a member of The Firm, you become a target.’

‘Oh my God, this gets worse . . . What on earth do I tell Jamie? Don’t you think he might find it odd when he comes home from school to find a strange man sleeping in the spare room?’

‘If you’re not ready to tell him about us yet, then I’m sure we can concoct some story for him. But at some point, he will need to know.’

‘That you’re his father? Or that we’re an item? Do you know what really upsets me about all this?’ Zoe wrung her hands in despair. ‘That if you were anyone else, it would be the most natural and beautiful thing in the world for us all to be together as a family.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ Art sighed, looking so miserable that Zoe immediately felt guilty. After all, this was not his fault, just an accident of birth. And he was doing all he could to be with her.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘It’s just all so complicated, when it should be so simple.’

‘But not hopeless?’ He looked at her with desperation in his eyes.

‘No, not hopeless,’ she said.

‘You’ve already met the man we’ve chosen: Simon Warburton, the driver who took you to and collected you from Sandringham. I’ve spoken to him at length this morning, and he’s a nice chap, very highly trained. Please, Zoe, let’s at least try it. Take one day at a time. And I promise, I’ll completely understand if you find it all too much and take the decision to end it.’

Zoe leant on his shoulder as he stroked her hair.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Art said, ‘Is he really worth it?’

‘I guess I am.’

‘And am I?’

‘God help me,’ Zoe groaned. ‘I know you are.’

21

Joanna stared at her computer screen, then flicked through her thesaurus to try and find new and inspiring ways of describing the bliss on a particular spaniel’s face as he noisily ate his way through the bowl of dog food he was testing. She also had toothache. After her lunch break, it had become grim enough for her to ask Alice for the number of a dentist where she could get an emergency appointment.

Her extension rang and she picked up the phone. ‘Joanna Haslam.’

‘It’s me, darling.’

‘Oh, hi,’ she said to Marcus, lowering her voice so nobody could hear her.

‘Are you ready to forgive me yet? I’m virtually bankrupting myself with all these flowers I’ve sent you.’

Joanna glanced at the three vases full of roses that had arrived over the past couple of days and suppressed a smile. The truth was, she’d missed him. In fact, more than missed him . . . ‘I might be, yes.’

‘Good, because I have some information for you, something that Zoe told me.’

‘What is it?’

‘Tell me your fax number. Given the circumstances, I can’t email or say what it is on the phone. I want to see if you come to the same conclusion I did.’

‘Okay.’ Joanna gave him the number. ‘Send it now and I’ll go and stand by the machine.’

‘Call me straight back when you’ve read it. We need to arrange a time to talk.’

‘Okay, I’ll call you when it’s through. Bye.’ Joanna put down the receiver and hurried across to the fax machine before someone else in the office could nab it. Waiting for the message to come through, she pondered yet again her feelings for Marcus. He was so very different from the serious and measured Matthew. And perhaps, with all his faults, was actually just what she needed. Last night, as she’d lain alone in her new bed, missing his arms around her, she had decided to trust him, take him on face value when he said he loved her, and sod the consequences. Protecting herself and her heart from further upsets was safe, but was that really living?