Tangled Emotions. CATHERINE GEORGE

What time do you get off?’

      ‘In half an hour or so. But don’t worry. I won’t need a bodyguard tonight.’

      He leaned closer to look her in the eye. ‘Does that mean you don’t want me to follow you home?’

      She shrugged, determined not to look too eager. ‘You can if you like.’

      ‘Don’t overwhelm me with enthusiasm,’ he said dryly. ‘I’ll wait in the corner over there, nursing my drink.’

      It seemed a long half-hour. Fen had begun to consider herself reasonably proficient after two weeks in the job. But with a steady dark gaze trained on her at intervals from the far corner of the bar she was all fingers and thumbs as she poured drinks and took money—something noted with huge glee by Jilly, but with less by Tim Mathias when he made his rounds.

      ‘Any problems, Fen? That’s the guy who was staring at you when you were singing.’

      Her eyebrows rose. ‘Really? I thought you meant Adam.’

      ‘No. Adam saw you when he came in to book a meal for next week—’

      ‘Which night is he coming?’ she said quickly.

      ‘Tuesday.’

      ‘In that case can I switch shifts?’

      ‘After you helped me out over Diane I can hardly refuse, can I? Time you went home now,’ Tim added. ‘You too, Jilly.’

      In the staffroom Jilly eyed Fen speculatively. ‘The bloke who was watching you out there—is he taking you home?’

      ‘Sort of. I drive and he follows behind to make sure I’m safe, that’s all. He’s the one who came to my rescue the other night when I was mugged.’

      ‘Is he, now? He can rescue me any time he likes,’ said Jilly enviously, and sighed. ‘Heigh-ho. Time I was off home to the arms of my beloved. If he’s still awake by this time.’ She paused. ‘Look, kid, is this chap on the level? What does he do for a living? Something exciting?’

      ‘He sells insurance,’ said Fen, chuckling at Jilly’s disappointment.

      The sight of Joe Tregenna leaning against her car was so welcome Fen realised she would miss him on the nights when he wasn’t waiting for her. Which was idiotic. She didn’t need a bodyguard. She wasn’t the nervous kind. Just the same, she liked having Joe around. Liked it a lot.

      ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, as she joined him.

      ‘About what, in particular?’

      ‘Tomorrow.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘If we make an early enough start, how about making for a beach somewhere?’

      ‘We’re a fair distance from any beach.’

      ‘Not the way I drive.’

      Fen laughed. ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

      ‘I’m careful. You’ll be perfectly safe. A couple of hours and we could be stretched out in the sun.’

      ‘In that case, you’re on!’

      ‘If it rains we’ll think of something else,’ Joe said, taking her agreement for granted.

      Fen thought about this on the drive to Farthing Street, knowing that with any other man this would be a total turn-off. But with Joe it was different. And the reassurance of his headlights in her driving mirror went a long way to restoring the sense of security she’d taken utterly for granted until recently. She’d sailed confidently through life, certain that bad things happened to other people, never to Fenella Dysart. Not that the episode with a couple of naughty kids could be counted as very desperate. But she could have done without it, just the same. In the circumstances.

      When Fen arrived she waited for Joe to park his car. ‘Are you coming in?’ she asked, as he strolled towards her.

      ‘Only to see you through the door. As I said before, you could do with a light out here.’

      ‘It’s better when the streetlight’s working.’

      ‘Why isn’t it at the moment?’

      ‘No idea.’

      ‘Complain to the council. In the meantime do something about security lights.’

      ‘I only rent the place,’ she reminded him, as he followed her inside. ‘And for what I pay I doubt the landlord would cough up for such an exotic extra.’

      ‘Couldn’t you have found somewhere more comfortable?’ Joe frowned as he took inventory of the cheerless little kitchen. By way of fittings it boasted a couple of cupboards, a small electric cooker, a single-drainer sink, an elderly washing machine, and the brand new microwave Fen had obviously bought herself. ‘Not exactly glossy magazine material.’

      She shrugged. ‘I needed somewhere in a hurry. This was available because it’s vacation time. Normally it’s a student let.’

      ‘Was the flatshare in a more salubrious part of town?’

      ‘No. In London. What time do you want to start in the morning?’

      ‘I’ll check the forecast and give you a ring.’

      ‘Fine. Like some coffee?’

      ‘No, thanks. Now I’ve made sure you’re safe I’ll take off and let you get those feet of yours to bed. See you tomorrow.’ Joe smiled at her, sketched a salute, then went out, leaving Fen staring, crestfallen, at the door he’d closed behind him.

      One thing she had to say for Joe Tregenna: he wasn’t asking for a thing in return for his help. As any other male of her acquaintance would have done. Though she would have rather liked a goodnight kiss. She sighed. Maybe he just didn’t fancy her.

      Oh, well, she thought philosophically, as she turned the key in the lock, it was probably a good thing he hadn’t stayed. He wouldn’t like the sitting room any better than the kitchen. She didn’t either.

      She kept her television and video recorder upstairs on the dressing table in the bedroom. Which was marginally more comfortable than the other rooms due to curtains she’d bought ready-made, with matching covers for the bed, a couple of cushions, and the new mattress which had been vital before she could bring herself to sleep there. The bedroom now felt more like her own personal space, which the sitting room, with its hideous wallpaper and imitation leather furniture, never would.

      She smiled wryly as she got ready for bed. She’d never been given to mooching in her bedroom all day as a teenager, but these days, with a whole house at her disposal, she led a typical bedsit type of existence.

      The phone rang early next morning, startling Fen awake. She stretched out a hand for the cellphone kept charged by the bed, and blinked owlishly as she said a hoarse hello.

      ‘I woke you,’ said Joe Tregenna, amused.

      ‘You certainly did.’ She yawned, and turned to look at her watch. ‘You sadist! It’s only just after six.’

      ‘I’ll be round in half an hour. The forecast promised sunshine, so let’s make the most of it. See you.’

      Fen put the phone back, shaking her head in amused disbelief. The possibility that she might have fancied a lie-in after such a hectic working week had obviously never occurred to him.

      After the fastest bath of her life she pulled jeans over a scarlet bikini, added a stretchy striped T-shirt, and managed to gulp down a cup of coffee and twist her hair into a braid before Joe rapped on the kitchen door.

      ‘Good morning!’ He smiled, looking so fit and fresh in khakis and white sweatshirt it tired her to look at him. ‘How are you this morning?’

      ‘Not human yet. I’m not really an early-morning person,’ she warned. ‘I’ll probably snore in