Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine (reading an ebook TXT) 📕

told him that Jo was in Wales with Tim Heacham. The last person on earth she would want to see was him, but now that he had her address he knew he had to go to her.

With a sigh he switched on the light, and, reaching for the percolator, he gave it an experimental shake. There was still some coffee in it and he plugged it in.

He had to see Jo; he had to make things all right with her somehow. He stared down at the glass of the pot with a frown, watching the condensation forming on its sides as the coffee began to warm. He was being torn apart. Half of him wanted to see Jo, to hold her, to comfort her and beg her to forgive him for ever hurting her. He didn't understand even now why he had done it, or what had made him so angry. But he was angry still, and part of him still seethed quietly inside; part of him was still fanatically jealous. Part of him wanted to hurt her again.

He paced up and down the carpet a few times, listening to the occasional car roaring up the street outside, then he glanced at his watch. It was nearly three. Sitting down at his desk, he flicked on the desk light and pulled out a map. It would do no harm to work out the route to Wales. In the morning he would make the final decision as to what he should do.

When Jim walked into the office at eight, Nick was hard at work.

"Good God, Nick! Now you're making me feel doubly guilty! What time did you get here, for chrissake?" Jim said, flinging down his briefcase.

Nick glanced up. "I've been here all night. " Giving a wry smile, he stretched his arms above his head. "But don't go on with the martyr act, you've done your penance—and I came here for peace as much as anything else. Look, Jim, I want to be here for the meeting with Mike Desmond, then I have to go away for a couple of days. "

Jim groaned. "Nick, for God's sake. You're needed in the office!"

"Not if you're here. You can handle things. "

"You still believe that?" Jim's tone was bitter.

"We've all screwed things up once in a while. " Nick stood up and picked up the coffeepot. It was empty. "The secret is to get back out there fighting. Otherwise you're dead. " He turned back to Jim. "I have a feeling you'll handle this meeting like a master, that's why I want to sit in on it. And, let's face it, we've got nothing to lose. In fact, if we get Desco back and I win the New York accounts we'll have to expand!" He walked to the window and pulled up the blind, then he turned to Jim and grinned. "And I'm just in the mood to build an empire at the moment, so you've been warned!"

It was seven-twenty that evening when at last he walked into the bar of the Black Lamb near Talgarth. He glanced around. It was empty.

"What can I get you, sir?" The bartender appeared through a bead curtain at the back as Nick hauled himself wearily onto a stool. He ordered a Scotch and soda, looking around with some curiosity. There was no sign of Jo. "You seem very quiet, landlord. "

The man shrugged. "They'll all be in later. Friday, see. Tarting themselves up, they are, then come eight, they'll all be here. " He pushed the glass across the bar.

"Have something yourself. " Nick flipped a five-pound note onto the counter. "Tell me, do you still have a Miss Clifford staying here?" He picked up his glass.

The man grinned. "Thank you very much. One more night, she said. She's out now though—going to Radnor, I think she said she was, this morning. " He drew himself a pint before opening the till to look for the change. "Friend of hers, are you?"

Nick nodded. "You haven't another room, I suppose?"

"Just for the one night is it?"

"Just the one. "

"Well, if you don't mind somewhere a bit shabby like, maybe I could fit you in. It's bad time of the year, see, with all the visitors. "

"I don't mind as long as I can sleep. " Nick finished his drink and pushed the glass back toward the man. "Tell me, do you expect Jo—Miss Clifford—back for dinner?"

"Well, now, we don't exactly serve dinner, sir. Chicken in a basket we can do you, or a nice scampi. " He leaned forward suddenly, staring past Nick out of the window. "Isn't that her car now?"

Nick swung around. His jaw tightened as he watched Jo back the MG into the corner of the parking lot behind the pub. She climbed out of her car and he saw her stand for a moment staring at his Porsche, then she glanced over her shoulder toward the pub. Even from that distance he could see the sudden anxiety on her face. She was wearing a deep rose-color blouse with jeans, and he found himself staring at her hungrily as she stooped into the car to find her bag, then she slammed the door and walked almost reluctantly toward them.

She pushed the door open. "What are you doing here, Nick?" she cried. "Didn't I make myself clear? I never want to see you again!"

Behind them the barman folded his arms and leaned with interest against the till.

"I told Sam not to tell you where I was, " she went on, flinging her bag down on a chair. "A gin and tonic, please, Mr. Vaughan. "

"Coming up. " He reached up to the gin bottle with a grin. "The gentleman is paying for it, is he?"

"He is. "

Nick noticed that her hand was shaking as she reached for the glass and to his surprise he felt a quick surge of pleasure. "You should know better than to trust Sam, " he said softly.