Platinum Coast. Lynne Pemberton

suppressed the reply she’d have liked to have given. ‘Only joking.’ She pinched his leg. ‘This is our last opportunity to be together. Let’s stop wasting time.’

      She lifted his dark-green cotton sweater and with her fingertips curled the fine hair of his stomach, which he pulled in with a sharp intake of breath. His head fell back onto the sofa as she began to undo the top button of his jeans. The zip slid down easily and Stephen moaned from deep within his throat as he felt her hand slip inside his boxer shorts. She leaned forward to kiss him – and jumped back in fright as a white figure loomed from behind the sofa.

      ‘Daddy, I had a horrible nightmare! I couldn’t get back to sleep; I was really afraid.’

      Victoria, dressed in a long nightdress, walked round the sofa and stared at Stephen, who was frantically zipping up his jeans and pulling his sweater down.

      ‘What are you doing?’ She continued to stare wide-eyed. He pulled her quickly down beside him to cover his embarrassment, pushing stray hairs away from her brow and saying, ‘Nothing, baby. Now tell Daddy all about the horrible nightmare and he’ll make it better.’

      Christina left Stephen and Victoria curled up on the sofa, engrossed in one another, and limped slowly to her room. She fell into bed angry and frustrated. There was no point in staying awake. She knew Stephen would never come to her while his daughter was under the same roof.

      ‘Your daughter is impossible, Stephen. Surely you can see she’s trying to jeopardize our relationship?’

      Stephen looked across the table at Christina’s flushed face.

      ‘I really think you’re over-reacting, as usual.’ He sounded tired and exasperated.

      ‘Over-reacting? Victoria feigns illness, so you instantly cancel a weekend in Spain with me. One which I have been looking forward to very much!’

      ‘Keep your voice down,’ he urged. They were seated in the bar of the Midland Hotel in Manchester, and Stephen could see several people staring in their direction. He leaned forward. ‘Everyone is looking at us.’

      ‘I don’t care, Stephen,’ she snapped.

      ‘Well, I do, and as far as Victoria’s illness is concerned, Doctor Montague thinks it may be some kind of virus. Can’t risk it. What if she’s seriously ill while I’m away?’

      ‘Dorothy is with her. She knew about your trip to Spain a week ago. Don’t you find it too much of a coincidence that Victoria takes ill the very day you and I are due to go away for a long weekend?’

      ‘I’m sorry. I was looking forward to it as much as you.’ He took another sip of his drink and emptied the glass. ‘I can’t go away next weekend; it’s Vicky’s school play and I’ve promised to be there, but we can go the weekend after that, Christina.’

      ‘I don’t know where I’ll be in two weeks’ time. As I’ve told you a million times, I have to spend some time in Ireland. My mother is genuinely very ill.’

      ‘Well, we can go another weekend.’ He paused. ‘Soon.’

      Stephen tried to take her hand but she pulled away.

      ‘How about coming with me to France on Wednesday and Thursday of next week?’

      He was trying desperately hard to make amends, but Christina was unforgiving.

      ‘I’m working, remember? I do work for a living.’

      ‘Who cares about some daft job for Manchester United football club? Cancel it.’ His voice was dismissive. It made her suddenly furious.

      ‘I care, Stephen. And I need the money.’

      He turned away from her defiant expression and waved to a passing waiter. She shook her head as the man approached their table and Stephen ordered another large gin and tonic. ‘Don’t talk to me about needing money!’ His voice had a cutting edge as he continued: ‘I’ve offered you an allowance, and a beautiful flat in your own name. But you refuse to swallow your stupid pride and continue to live in squalor with that scatty flatmate who drives you nuts! You insist on taking degrading work and struggling to pay the bills when you could live in London close to me!’

      The waiter came to their table. He jumped back as Christina shouted: ‘No, no, no, Stephen! How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to buy me?’ The waiter placed Stephen’s drink in front of him and backed away quickly.

      She felt a tremor inside her when she encountered Stephen’s narrow, unblinking gaze. She had never seen him look so cold or so remote from her.

      ‘I’m not trying to buy you, merely trying to help you. Can’t you see that? You are so stubborn and immature sometimes, Christina.’

      He made an effort to control his voice, but there was no mistaking his mounting temper.

      Christina stood up. She was visibly shaking and her legs did not feel capable of taking her weight.

      ‘I may be both of those things but I am not stupid, nor am I blind. What I can see very clearly, Stephen, is that you want me on your terms and your terms only. Neatly tucked away in a cosy flat in London where you can come around whenever it suits you, far from any prying eyes – and of course your precious daughter!’

      ‘That’s just not true.’ His voice shook with anger. Conversation ceased in the busy bar. Everyone was watching the scene.

      ‘You know the situation as well as I do, Christina. You’ve known from the first weekend you spent at Purley Hall almost six months ago, but you just can’t accept the fact. Victoria needs me.’

      She stood up. He got to his feet and put a hand on her arm. ‘I can only give you so much of my time, Christina. You must understand,’ he implored.

      She took a deep breath.

      ‘I do understand, Stephen.’ Her voice was resigned. ‘You must go and catch your plane to London. You’re right. Victoria wants you.’

      Christina picked up the suitcase she had packed with such excitement that morning and gripped the handle firmly with trembling fingers. She was fighting hard to prevent the tears welling up in her eyes and blinked several times before she was able to say, ‘I don’t need you any more, Stephen. At least not like this.’

      She turned and walked out of the Midland Hotel, hoping Stephen might run after her but knowing deep in her heart that he would not.

      Christina squinted, trying hard to focus. She could have sworn Martin Ward had three heads as he came towards her. Thankfully they merged into one when he sat next to her.

      ‘I’ve been looking for you for ages. Where on earth have you been?’

      ‘Drinking. And I want another.’

      ‘I really think you’ve had enough.’ Martin gently prised the glass from her hand.

      ‘I will decide when I have had enough.’ She leaned forward to attract the barman’s attention, and almost fell.

      ‘Why don’t we go back to my place?’ Martin suggested, planning to give her coffee and perhaps something to eat in an effort to sober her up.

      ‘Your place?’ She glared at him. He was reminded of the little tabby kitten he’d rescued from the railway embankment as a child. Small-boned, saucer-eyed and spitting defiance. He realized she had mistaken his meaning.

      ‘I really don’t think you’d be much use to me in bed tonight, Christina,’ he said as he caught her firmly in his arms. ‘Come on, love, I’m taking you home.’

      So much for using the club dance to show Christina how attractive he found her, Martin thought ruefully, as he steered her across the dance-floor. He hadn’t been able to spend as much time with her as he’d hoped. The Chairman had been in an expansive mood, pressing forbidden cigars on him, and then there’d been the duty dances with players’ wives and starstruck girlfriends. With his thick