matchmaking,
she’s always miles out!”
He smiled back. “You don’t mind?”
“Not really. Every time she does it I say never again, but then,” Jane shrugged, “I try not to take it too seriously.”
“You’re very tolerant.”
“Yes, yes I think I must be.” They both smiled. “Look,” she said, leaning forward and noticing Clare out of the corner of
her eye, craning her neck to see what they were doing. “I don’t think I can stand much more of this agony. I have to be up
early in the morning to do some painting and I could really do with an early night. Would you be agreeable to me having a
headache and you offering to take me home?” She smiled. “That way Clare isn’t disappointed.”
The relief on Phillip’s face was obvious. Jane bent and picked her bag up off the floor. “Good,” she said, “that’s decided
then.”
Phillip finished his drink. “Thanks, Jane, I appreciate…”
She shrugged and cut him short. “Shall we go? We can nip over and tell them on the way out.”
“Right.” He stood, offered her his arm and she took it. Jane, pressing her hand to her brow and Phillip looking concerned
made their way over to tell Clare and Teddy that they were leaving.
Outside the hotel Phillip stood with Jane while the doorman hailed a cab. He glanced at her neat navy suit, low-heeled shoes
and matching bag and thought briefly how nice she looked; sensible and smart. The cab arrived and the doorman helped her inside.
“I hope you feel better,” Phillip said.
Jane smiled. “Thanks. Nice to meet you, Phillip.”
“And you.” He slammed the door shut and waved at Jane through the window. “Thank you!” he called as the cab pulled off, but
Jane didn’t hear him. She had already turned away and was looking straight ahead. The likes of Major Phillip Mills, good-looking,
charming and sophisticated, were not for her. She had known that for years, never had been and never would be. “Plain Jane,”
she murmured, without bitterness or regret and she settled back to enjoy the ride home.
8
P HILLIP REACHED OVER AND SWITCHED ON THE BEDSIDE LAMP. The light outside was just breaking.
“Are you awake?” He sat up.
“No.” Suzanna rolled onto her side and put her arm up over her eyes. “Not yet.”
Phillip smiled. “It’s six-thirty,” he said. “This is your early-morning alarm call.” He bent and kissed the side of her face
as she moved her arm and opened her eyes. “Oh God, is it really?”
“Yes.” Phillip dropped his legs over the side of the bed and stood, reaching for his cigarettes. “I’ll put the kettle on,”
he said, moving toward the kitchen. Suzanna sat up and, rubbing her eyes, she watched him walk naked from the bedroom. She
knew she had to get up, make tracks, but she couldn’t face it. She shouldn’t even have been at the flat, it was dangerous,
too risky. She felt tense and miserable.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she said as Phillip came back into the bedroom and took his trousers from the chair. “I should have
stayed at the house, Mitchell will find out, I know he will. It was a mistake!”
Phillip pulled the flannels up over his hips and fastened the fly. He walked across to the bed. “Suzanna, stop it! You’re
being paranoid, it wasn’t a mistake.” He leaned toward her and kissed the hollow of her neck. “I needed you last night, I
couldn’t have stayed in Bertram’s flat on my own, I needed to say goodbye to you properly.”
He moved his mouth down to her breast and she caught her breath. “Phillip, don’t,” she murmured. “Please, I have to get dressed,
I have to go.”
He pulled back. “OK.” Turning away abruptly, he finished dressing, pulling his half-buttoned shirt over his head and rolling
up his tie, stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket. “What time is the driver coming to the house?” He fiddled with his cufflinks,
not looking at her. He didn’t really want to know, he