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Authors: Sara Craven
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trolley. 'And now it's time w
Cally rose too. She said bitterly, 'You're not prepared to make
any concessions, are you?"
Nick picked up his jacket. He said quietly, ‘I gave you last
night. But today our marriage begins." He paused. "So shall
we go down to Gunners Wharf with the good news? I'D let
you break it to them, darling. Credit where credit is due, after
all.'
Her stormy gaze met the icy mockery in his.
She said, quietly but clearly, 'Damn you to hell, Nick
Tempest.' Then, head high, she walked back into the bedroom
to get her bag.
CHAPTER FOUR
'You look so different,' Kit said. 'I've never seen you in any-
thing but black, white and grey. Now suddenly you're in
Technicolor.' He surveyed her moodily. 'You look—amazing.
But I feel as if I've never known you at all.'
Cally stifled a sigh. 'I didn't intend that you should,' she said
quietly. 'Because I wasn't planning to stay. And I'm just here
to clear my desk,' she added. 'Not part bad friends.'
'And I had no idea your name was Caroline until Tempest said
it,’ he went on, as if she hadn't spoken. 'Why did you call
yourself Cally?'
She shrugged defensively. 'When I was learning to talk, that
was all of Caroline I could manage. It—stuck.'
He shook his head. 'No wonder I never stood a chance. He's a
rich man, isn't he? A multimillionaire.' There was a note of
self-pity in his voice that jarred on her. 'And you've let him
buy you.'
Have I? Cally thought. Then, if so, why am I paying the
price?
Aloud, she said wearily, 'Kit—let's not over-dramatise the
situation. I'm going back to my husband—that's all. It was
bound to happen sooner or later.' At least that's what I have to
believe. She paused. 'And please remember I offered you
nothing.'
'No,' Kit said bitterly. 'I'm not likely to forget that.'
Cally slammed the empty drawer shut. 'Also, you seem to be
overlooking the fact that Gunners Terrace is alive and well,'
she said crisply. 'We just happen to have won a famous
victory, and Leila, Tracy and the others are jumping for joy
out there. You should be over the moon for them too, joining
in the celebrations.'
'Well, perhaps I'm not in a celebratory mood,' he snapped
back, just as Nick appeared in the doorway, glancing
expressionlessly between Kit's wrathful flush and Cally's taut
self-containment.
'Finished up here, darling?' he asked pleasantly. 'Because it's
time we were leaving.' He walked over to her, sliding an arm
round her body, his hand resting on the curve of her slender
hip in a gesture of total possession.
Cally saw Kit register the gesture, then turn away sullenly.
'Yes,' she said. 'I'm—ready.'
There hadn't been much to collect. A few pens, a picture one
of the children had painted for her, and a paperweight that
Mrs Hartley had given her when Cally had inadvertently re-
vealed it was her birthday the previous day. It was a lovely
thing, in shades of azure and emerald flecked with gold, like a
dive into a sunlit tropical sea, and she could not have left it
behind. She'd brought nothing at all from the flat, which
would be cleared out by the landlord—whose protests Nick
had silenced with a month's rent in lieu of notice.
Money really seemed to be the answer to everything, she
thought bitterly.
One by one, her tenuous ties to this place had been cut. Now
nothing remained but her future with Nick, and that was only
temporary.
Her whole life had suddenly become a leap into the dark.
She said quietly, 'Goodbye, Kit. I hope the whole project goes
from strength to strength.'
"Thank you.' He did not look at her.
For a moment she wanted to scream at him. Do you know—
do you have any idea what I've done? The sacrifice I've had to
make?
But that would imply his attitude was justified, that she owed
him some kind of explanation. Whereas she knew she didn't,
and it was best to let the matter drop—walk away. With her
husband's arm holding her like a ring of steel. Staking
Cally rose too. She said bitterly, 'You're not prepared to make
any concessions, are you?"
Nick picked up his jacket. He said quietly, ‘I gave you last
night. But today our marriage begins." He paused. "So shall
we go down to Gunners Wharf with the good news? I'D let
you break it to them, darling. Credit where credit is due, after
all.'
Her stormy gaze met the icy mockery in his.
She said, quietly but clearly, 'Damn you to hell, Nick
Tempest.' Then, head high, she walked back into the bedroom
to get her bag.
CHAPTER FOUR
'You look so different,' Kit said. 'I've never seen you in any-
thing but black, white and grey. Now suddenly you're in
Technicolor.' He surveyed her moodily. 'You look—amazing.
But I feel as if I've never known you at all.'
Cally stifled a sigh. 'I didn't intend that you should,' she said
quietly. 'Because I wasn't planning to stay. And I'm just here
to clear my desk,' she added. 'Not part bad friends.'
'And I had no idea your name was Caroline until Tempest said
it,’ he went on, as if she hadn't spoken. 'Why did you call
yourself Cally?'
She shrugged defensively. 'When I was learning to talk, that
was all of Caroline I could manage. It—stuck.'
He shook his head. 'No wonder I never stood a chance. He's a
rich man, isn't he? A multimillionaire.' There was a note of
self-pity in his voice that jarred on her. 'And you've let him
buy you.'
Have I? Cally thought. Then, if so, why am I paying the
price?
Aloud, she said wearily, 'Kit—let's not over-dramatise the
situation. I'm going back to my husband—that's all. It was
bound to happen sooner or later.' At least that's what I have to
believe. She paused. 'And please remember I offered you
nothing.'
'No,' Kit said bitterly. 'I'm not likely to forget that.'
Cally slammed the empty drawer shut. 'Also, you seem to be
overlooking the fact that Gunners Terrace is alive and well,'
she said crisply. 'We just happen to have won a famous
victory, and Leila, Tracy and the others are jumping for joy
out there. You should be over the moon for them too, joining
in the celebrations.'
'Well, perhaps I'm not in a celebratory mood,' he snapped
back, just as Nick appeared in the doorway, glancing
expressionlessly between Kit's wrathful flush and Cally's taut
self-containment.
'Finished up here, darling?' he asked pleasantly. 'Because it's
time we were leaving.' He walked over to her, sliding an arm
round her body, his hand resting on the curve of her slender
hip in a gesture of total possession.
Cally saw Kit register the gesture, then turn away sullenly.
'Yes,' she said. 'I'm—ready.'
There hadn't been much to collect. A few pens, a picture one
of the children had painted for her, and a paperweight that
Mrs Hartley had given her when Cally had inadvertently re-
vealed it was her birthday the previous day. It was a lovely
thing, in shades of azure and emerald flecked with gold, like a
dive into a sunlit tropical sea, and she could not have left it
behind. She'd brought nothing at all from the flat, which
would be cleared out by the landlord—whose protests Nick
had silenced with a month's rent in lieu of notice.
Money really seemed to be the answer to everything, she
thought bitterly.
One by one, her tenuous ties to this place had been cut. Now
nothing remained but her future with Nick, and that was only
temporary.
Her whole life had suddenly become a leap into the dark.
She said quietly, 'Goodbye, Kit. I hope the whole project goes
from strength to strength.'
"Thank you.' He did not look at her.
For a moment she wanted to scream at him. Do you know—
do you have any idea what I've done? The sacrifice I've had to
make?
But that would imply his attitude was justified, that she owed
him some kind of explanation. Whereas she knew she didn't,
and it was best to let the matter drop—walk away. With her
husband's arm holding her like a ring of steel. Staking
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