Private Lives. Carole Mortimer

Danvers was also the most ruggedly attractive man she had ever seen.

      But he could also be something much, much more dangerous …

      ‘Oh, Fin, thank God I managed to catch you before you went home!’ Gail breathed her obvious relief.

      Fin frowned at this second telephone call from the other woman in twenty-four hours. Admittedly she hadn’t spoken to Gail personally the last time, but, nevertheless, Gail’s message had been clear enough.

      She had only called in at the office herself on her way home to close up for the evening, this call coming through before she’d had chance to switch on the answer-machine.

      ‘Only just,’ she replied derisively, looking down ruefully at the key in her hand she had ready for her departure. ‘I got your message earlier, Gail.’ A little late, but she had got it! ‘Everything seems in order at the cottage.’ She crossed her fingers at this blatant mistruth; the last thing it had seemed at Rose Cottage today was ordered. ‘So—–’

      ‘That’s just it,’ the other woman cut in agitatedly. ‘It isn’t in order at all. Fin, I’m worried about Jake,’ she added anxiously.

      Oh, dear, it was going to be another one of those calls, Fin realised with dismay, where she had to play a guessing game, trying to discover what was actually being said to her.

      She sat down wearily in her chair. It had been a long and trying day, and she was just too tired now to play any more games. And most of the reason it had been such a trying day had been because of Gail’s ‘uncle’!

      ‘In what way?’ she prompted evenly; from the little she had seen of Jake Danvers, he wouldn’t welcome anyone’s feeling ‘worried’ about him!

      ‘He—he’s being difficult!’ Gail seemed somewhat reluctant to put the actual problem into words now that it came down to it.

      Fin sighed. ‘He’s your friend, Gail; I’m sure you know better than most what he can be like.’

      And it really was none of her business if Gail was having problems with him. Sorting out personal relationships, family or otherwise, was not one of the services her agency offered; there were professional agencies for things like that. It wasn’t that she wasn’t sympathetic to Gail’s obvious concern, it was just—well, it was Jake Danvers!

      ‘So do you, by the sound of it,’ Gail realised with rueful humour. ‘A little of Jake goes a long way, hm?’ she acknowledged drily.

      ‘Yes,’ Fin agreed tersely, glancing impatiently at her wrist-watch; time was pressing on, and she had her tea to eat before getting ready to go out to the committee meeting. She also had something else to do before she did any of those things, and needed to get home.

      The other woman drew in a ragged breath. ‘Look, the thing is, Fin—I don’t know what Jake has told you about himself—–’

      ‘Not much,’ she told her pointedly.

      ‘No. Well.’ Gail sighed. ‘He’s a pretty private sort of person. Is quite fanatical about it, actually, but … Look, I’ve tried several times to reach him by telephone this afternoon,’ this last bit came out in a rush, ‘just to make sure he’s settled in OK. But each time I called the line was dead. I contacted the operator after the last time, a few minutes ago actually, and she said the telephone has been unplugged from the connection!’ Gail revealed incredulously.

      It seemed a rather stupid thing to do when the cottage was as remote as it was. But, as Gail said, Jake Danvers was a very private person, and she was sure he had a very good reason for disconnecting the telephone … ‘Gail,’ she said slowly, ‘exactly what is it you’re worried about?’

      ‘Oh, God, I don’t know,’ the other woman said exasperatedly, and Fin had a brief image of the usually coolly capable blonde running agitated fingers through her long tresses. ‘He’s become so unpredictable. He had become almost a hermit, living out in the wilds of—– Well, from living a very solitary sort of life, he suddenly started flitting about all over the place; I don’t know what he’s doing half the time. And now he’s disconnected the damned phone!’ she concluded with a wail.

      Fin could hear the near-desperation in the other woman’s voice now. She felt sorry for her predicament, knew Gail had a performance this evening, that there was no way she could come down here herself to find out what Jake Danvers was up to. ‘Have you thought of contacting the police, if you’re that worried about him?’ she suggested gently.

      ‘He’d kill me!’ Gail groaned with feeling.

      She didn’t think now was the right moment to point out that he would hardly be able to do anything if, as Gail seemed to think—otherwise, why else was she so worried?—he might have done something desperate!

      ‘Gail, he didn’t appear the suicidal type to me, if that’s any help,’ she reasoned gently, vividly able to recall the hard mockery in those strange-coloured eyes, and the arrogant twist to those sculptured lips. No, he didn’t look the suicidal type at all to her! Besides, if he was who she thought he was then surely ten years ago would have been the time when he might just have felt desperate enough to have taken his own life. Although she obviously had no idea what might have happened in his life during the following ten years …

      ‘It isn’t,’ Gail snapped impatiently.

      ‘Do you want me to drive out to the cottage and check on things there for you?’ Fin heard herself offering without even being aware she was about to do such a thing. But what else could she do? Gail was obviously worried out of her mind about the damned man, and over the last year the other woman had become a friend as well as a client.

      But Fin already knew it was an offer she would regret, however it turned out. She already regretted it!

      ‘Oh, would you?’ Gail pounced gratefully—almost as if that weren’t what she had been angling for the whole time! ‘I really would be grateful.’

      ‘You don’t know how grateful,’ Fin muttered.

      ‘Oh, but I do.’ The other woman had relaxed slightly, now that she knew Fin was going to help her, the smile evident in her voice. ‘I’m well aware of how bloody-minded Jake can be.’

      ‘As long as you remember you owe me one,’ Fin returned ruefully at the other woman’s shameless manipulation.

      ‘Oh, I will,’ Gail acknowledged lightly. ‘I have to admit, this was what I had hoped for when I called you.’

      ‘No!’ Fin said in exaggerated surprise. ‘Believe me, Gail, you aren’t going to win any awards with the sort of acting you’ve just shown me!’

      ‘Subtle as a sledge-hammer, that’s me,’ Gail accepted without offence, obviously just relieved that Fin was willing to be involved. ‘I have to leave for the theatre in about an hour,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘If you could just get Jake to give me a call before then I would be grateful.’

      She very much doubted that very many people ‘got’ Jake Danvers to do anything unless it was something he had already decided he wanted to do—and she wasn’t sure, especially with the evidence of the disconnected telephone, that telephoning Gail came under that category!

      ‘I’ll pass on your message, Gail,’ she said non-committally.

      ‘And tell him not to disconnect my telephone again!’ Gail added frustratedly.

      ‘You tell him not to disconnect your telephone again—if, and when, he calls you!’ Fin told her decisively.

      The other woman gave an amused chuckle. ‘Jake seems to have made his usual charming impact on you!’ she derided.

      ‘Oh, undoubtedly!’ Her sarcasm was unmistakable, even to someone with the subtlety of a sledge-hammer! ‘I’ve no doubt I’ll speak to you again soon, Gail,’ she said drily before ringing off, her humour fading as soon as she had replaced the receiver.