Page 89 of The Love Letter
‘God, no. We’re more like brother and sister. We really are just good friends.’
‘Talking of Marcus, you haven’t said anything to him about what you saw on Thursday night, have you?’ Zoe asked anxiously.
‘No. I’m actually very good at keeping secrets. Tell me if you don’t want to talk about it, but are the two of you . . . I mean, is it serious?’
Zoe’s blue eyes filled with tears. ‘Very. Unfortunately.’
‘Why “unfortunately”?’
‘Because I want Art to be an accountant in Guildford – a married man even – but not . . . well, who he is.’
‘I understand completely, but you can’t help who you fall in love with, Zoe.’
‘No, but can you imagine how it’ll affect Jamie if the story gets out? I’m terrified.’
‘Yes. I was only thinking the other night that it will leak at some point, especially if you’re both serious about each other.’
‘I can hardly bear to think about it. The worst thing is, I just can’t seem to stop myself, however much I know I should for Jamie’s sake. Art and I . . . well, it’s always been this way.’
‘You’ve known each other for a long time?’
‘Yes. Years. I swear, Joanna, if I ever read about this conversation in your newspaper, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions,’ Zoe said fiercely.
‘Zoe, I admit I wouldloveto be the person to hand this scoop to my editor, but I’m a Yorkshire girl, and up there a person’s word is her bond. I won’t, okay?’
‘Okay. God, I need another drink.’ Zoe signalled to the waiter and asked for two more glasses of champagne. ‘Well, as you seem to know most of it now anyway, and as I’m desperate to talk to someone, I might as well tell you the whole story . . .’
From his vantage point at a table behind a convenient pillar, Simon saw the two women were deep in conversation. He took the opportunity to go to the men’s room and, closing the toilet door, he dialled a number on his mobile.
‘It’s Warburton, sir.’
‘Yes.’
‘A problem this morning. I’m afraid Haslam arrived unexpectedly at Miss Harrison’s house. Obviously, she recognised me. If she questions me, what do I tell her?’
‘That you are working for the Royalty Protection Branch. Which, to all intents and purposes, you are. Did you place the bugs on arrival?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Any other news?’
‘Nothing, sir.’
‘All right, Warburton. Good luck.’
Marcus was watching a Wales versus Ireland rugby match on the television and working his way through Zoe’s supply of beer. It was a quarter past four and still the girls were not back. Thankfully, Jamie was ensconced in his room, playing some complicated computer game. Marcus had gone in briefly, but after Jamie had begun to explain about ‘magic coins’ he’d ducked out again. It wasn’t like he’d never made an effort over the years, he thought to himself. Chocolates, zoo trips . . . nothing seemed to have made an impression on Jamie, and eventually Marcus had given up. It was as if all his nephew’s love had been focused on Great-James, and his mother, and there wasn’t any room for him.
‘Hi, Uncle Marcus.’ Jamie poked his head around the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Of course. It’s your house.’ Marcus managed a smile.
Jamie walked into the room, and stood with his hands in his pockets facing the television. ‘Who’s winning?’
‘Ireland. Wales are getting hammered.’
‘Great-James once told me a story about Ireland.’
‘Did he?’
