She said, 'They're ready—sir,' and banged them down on the desk in front of him so hard she nearly barked her knuckles.
'I've found a flat,' Jeremy told her over dinner that night.
'Oh,' she said. 'That's—good.'
'Well, you might show a little more enthusiasm,' he said pettishly. 'God knows you've been harping on about it ever since you got here.'
She sighed. 'I'm sorry. Tell me where it is—everything about it'
'It's in Notting Hill again,' he said. 'I mean—that's absolutely the in place at the moment'
'Which is important, of course.'
'Yes, it is,' he said crossly. 'Honestly, Livvy, you have to learn about these things.'
Her hand touched the bowl of her wine glass. She remembered another rounded crystal shape, with a pink rose held for ever at its heart, and felt the breath catch in her throat.
She said, 'Maybe I feel it's more important to find where you really belong—and go there.'
'What on earth are you talking about?'
'Nothing at all. It doesn't matter.' She smiled at him. 'When are you moving?'
'Next week. The present tenant's going back to Australia for a couple of years, so I can rent until he returns, then look round for something to buy.'
'Then you'll beat me to it,' she said. 'I have another ten days before I transfer to Louise's flat.'
'Louise's flat?' Jeremy repeated. 'Darling, don't be silly. You'll be moving in with me—just as we always planned.'
A great stillness seemed to settle around her. There was an icy silence screaming inside her head.
'Livvy—didn't you hear what I said?' He was smiling triumphantly. 'We're going to be together at last.'
She found a voice from somewhere. 'Do you think that's wise?'
'What do you mean?'
'Wouldn't it be better to leave things as they are—until you're divorced anyway?'
'That could take for ever.' He reached across the table, putting his hand on hers. 'Livvy, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I don't want to wait any longer.'
Olivia stared down at the table. This change of heart, she thought, seemed to stem from her birthday weekend, and his sudden absence. Something had clearly happened which had made him see her in a new and favourable light.
She would probably never know what it was, but then, she thought with a pang, she had her own secrets.
'Besides,' he went on, I'm rather counting on you. Do you know how much the rent is?'
'Then find someone to share with you,' she said gently. 'Advertise for a flatmate. Make sure you get references.'
'Oh, for God's sake.' He threw himself back in his chair. 'What is your problem?'
'I don't think I have one,' she said equably. I'm moving in with Louise, Hilary and Tricia. You're the one with the outsize rent.'
'Sometimes,' he said slowly, 'I really think I don't know you at all.'
'How could you?' she said. 'I've only recently discovered myself.' She looked at the dish of fresh peach icecream which had just been placed in front of her. For a brief moment she saw with total clarity the sun on the river, with the great looming bulk of the Tower in the background. And Declan laughing at her—bending forward…
Something closed in her throat, and she pushed the dish away. 'I'm not really hungry any more.'
'Leave it, then. Listen, Livvy.' Jeremy leaned forward again. 'Even if we don't live together, things don't have to go on as they are.' He laughed rather nervously. 'I mean, this celibate life is rather getting me down.'
The frozen feeling inside her deepened with the certainty that he was lying—and that it didn't matter.
'And as it happens,' he continued eagerly, 'Declan's going off to Ireland for a few days, so I'll have the house to myself.'
'Yes,' she said unguardedly, 'I know.'
He frowned 'How do you know? Through that Sasha woman?'
'No.' She looked at him calmly. 'I work at Declan's production company—as his personal assistant.'
'What?' The word was explosive. 'Why didn't you tell me?'
'I wanted to,' she said. 'But you never seemed very in—in my work—my wishes—anything.'
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. 'Then I wish you luck,' he said. 'He's got a hell of a nasty tongue on him when he wants. And a temper.'
'Then I'd better stay well out of his personal territory,' Olivia returned levelly.
He said sulkily, 'Anyone would think you didn't want to be with me. You seemed keen enough once—when we never had the chance.'
She sighed. 'A lot of things have happened over the past few weeks.' She gave him a straight look. 'Maybe we both need to examine our feelings.'
Although she didn't need to, she thought, as she lay in bed that night, staring into the darkness.
She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when she'd ceased to be in love with Jeremy. Maybe the first sense of disillusion had set in before she ever came to London, when she'd realised he'd made his plans without consulting her even marginally.
Looking back, she suspected all she'd ever felt was infatuation, triggered by her childhood memories of this golden, god-like figure.
My God, she thought. Every girl in the village was dotty about him. And when I met him again I turned him back into my girlhood fantasy. And I didn't look too closely, in case I saw something that didn't quite fit.
He even told me his wife didn't understand him, she thought, with self-derision. And I fell for it.
She could see now the future she'd planned with him had never had any substance. Jeremy didn't really want a wife, a home and all the responsibilities that went with them. He already had all that, and couldn't hack it. He'd simply told her what she'd wanted to hear, so that he could get her into bed.
And when she hadn't fallen into his hand like an apple from a tree he'd gone off to play the field elsewhere.
When he came to London, he was giving me the brush-off as well as his wife, she thought wryly. And everyone knew it but me.
It worried her that she didn't care more. She should be heartbroken—suicidal at the collapse of her dream—yet she was only sorry she'd wasted so much time and emotion on him.
Maybe that makes me as shallow and self-serving as he is, she thought, grimacing.
Except that she knew heartbreak could well be waiting for her very soon. Because recognising the truth about Jeremy had only made her see with piercing clarity what she truly felt for Declan. And it terrified her.
Because it wasn't a passing attraction. It was the kind of agonising need that could tear you apart The kind of tenderness that could heal any wound and make you whole again. She wanted him completely—as her friend, her lover, and the father of her children. She wanted to share peace with him as well as passion, and be the one who lit the laughter in his eyes.
The barriers were down now, and she had nowhere she could hide from the truth.
That was why she'd been clinging on to the myth of her relationship with Jeremy—because it was safer than admitting the truth of her own heart.
I've found the place where I belong, she thought, and it's with Declan—at his side for ever.
Only Declan didn't feel like that, and she would have to bear the pain of that knowledge for the rest of her life. All he'd offered her, after all, was a few brief hours in a hotel room near the Embankment And now they were strangers again—or worse than strangers.
She would almost have welcomed back the scorn and hostility of their first encounters rather than this—chilling indifference.
But the choice was not hers to make.
Some day, she thought, I won't feel like this. Some day…
But there would be many long and lonely hours to endure before it dawned.
When she arrived at work on Monday, she was waylaid by Carol.
'Don't think you're going to swan about in Declan's absence,' she said aggressively. 'It's time you started this training programme we've heard so much about.'
'Fine,' Olivia returned, and when the other woman had marched off turned to Mimi, who was flicking through a fashion magazine. 'Why is she like that? Is it something I've done?'
'Nah.' Mimi shook her head. It's nothing personal. Carol only likes stupid people because they make her look good. She was the same with Kim.' She paused. 'And she's jealous, of course. She's always had a thing about Declan, and when Kim got pregnant she saw it as her chance to work for him.'
'Does Declan know this?'
Mimi shrugged. 'He doesn't miss much. That's probably why she's still in Admin. He wouldn't be unkind to her, but he'd make sure he kept her at a distance. Froze her out The last thing he wants is some PA drooling over him.'
'Oh,' Olivia said in a hollow voice. 'I see.'
She went up to the office and stood looking round her. So, she now knew the reason for Declan's cold behaviour.
He must know me better than I know myself, she thought unhappily. But how much more can I take? Maybe it would be better to cut my losses now.
She'd spent the whole weekend, it seemed, arguing with herself, yet she still didn't know which would hurt the most—continuing to work for Declan in this new, icy formality, or leaving and never seeing him again, except as an image on the television screen.
She sat down in his chair, spreading her hands along his desk, tasting tears, thick and bitter, in her throat. Her heart felt like a frozen stone in her chest.
She found the inscription from the sundial burning in her brain. 'Love makes Time pass. Time makes Love pass.' And prayed with all her soul that it was true.
It was the longest week of her life. Olivia tried to throw herself into the simple training programme that she'd debut it was hard to concentrate when your heart and mind were several hundred miles away in Ireland.
She wondered if he was with the pretty blonde she'd seen in the restaurant They looked right together, she told herself dispassionately, both of them glamorous and assured. Familiar with each other's world. Everything she herself was not.
Perhaps he'd taken her to see the alternative life that he might return to one day. To find out if she'd be prepared to share it with him.
Each evening, before she went home, she walked in the garden, drawn reluctantly to the bench near the sundial, wondering every time whether she might find Declan there. But she was always alone. No ghost lover touched her hair, or waited for her at the end of the labyrinth of her unhappy thoughts.
One night Louise took her to a wine bar to meet her fellow tenants, and she talked and laughed as if she didn't have a care in the world, determined to make a good impression. Because this was the start of the rest of her life.
On Friday morning, she was in the office dealing with the mail when the phone rang. Her heartbeat quickened as she reached for the receiver, wondering, as always, if it might be Declan.
'Hi, Livvy.' It was Jeremy, sounding pleased with himself. 'Just to let you know I've moved into my new place.'
'You've moved already?' Olivia frowned 'Is that what you planned?'
'It's what I've done, so what does it matter?' he said with a touch of impatience. 'And I've decided to throw a little house-warming bash tomorrow evening—-eight o'clock onwards.'
'Oh.' Olivia was taken aback. 'I'm not sure…'
'Come on, my sweet, you can't let me down. It wouldn't be the same without you.' He gave a light laugh. 'After all, I want you to see what you're missing.'
Olivia obediently jotted down the address he gave her, but sighed as she put the phone down. Going to Jeremy's house-warming wasn't her idea of a fun time for all kinds of reasons, but she supposed it was marginally better than sitting at home, brooding.
She guessed Jeremy would expect a 'happy fiat' present, but didn't want to take a framed print or a piece of pottery, or anything that would give out signals of permanency, so she compromised with a bottle of good champagne.
Expensive but ephemeral, she told herself wryly, as she zipped herself into a plain black dress with a low, straight-cut neckline and narrow straps, and applied a modicum of colour to her eyes and lips.
Her plan to wait until the party was in full swing, then put in a token appearance only was confirmed when she arrived at the imposing white house with its pillared portico, and met the volume of noise emanating from the first floor. The windows were open and people, she saw, had spilled out on to the balcony. Others were occupying the stairs, drinking, talking and laughing loudly, and Olivia had to edge past.
She hesitated in the doorway, looking through the crowd for Jeremy. He was nowhere to be seen, but if the number of bodies per square foot was the criterion, his party was a wild success, she thought, grimacing inwardly.
'More supplies? Thank God.' A blonde girl with a nose-stud relieved Olivia of her champagne. 'People are leaving their jackets in the main bedroom, which is that way.' She pointed, then gave Olivia a curious look. 'I haven't seen you before. Do you work with Jerry?'
'No,' Olivia returned constrainedly. 'I'm an old friend.'
The other's grin was faintly malicious. 'Really? Maybe we should establish a support group. Anyway, dump your coat and get a glass. Most of the pouring's happening in the kitchen.'
'I'll find it.' Left alone, Olivia was tempted to beat an instant retreat, but decided she should at least greet Jeremy, and wish him good luck in his new home.
As she fought her way to the bedroom a hand grasped her arm, and, turning, she found herself looking up at Declan.
Joy seemed to explode inside her, and her mouth involuntarily curved into a smile.
'Declan? You're back.' She paused, trying to see past the cool grimness of his expression. 'I—I didn't expect to see you here.'
'I
wasn't planning it either,' he said abruptly. 'I came with someone.'
Of course, she thought, her instinctive happiness at seeing him beginning to corrode into an ache of misery.
She said flatly. 'Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm on my way to find a drink.'
He said quietly, 'Olivia, do us both a favour and go. Go now.'
She tried to laugh. 'But I've only just got here.'