Deception and Desire Read Online Free
Author: Janet Tanner
most worrying things about her disappearance.
Little as he liked to admit it, he could almost believe Ros might have walked out on him as the policeman had suggested. Life had taught him that women were not always to be trusted, and recently things had been a little strained between him and Ros. There had been times when Ros had snapped at him impatiently, times when she had put off a planned meeting on the flimsiest excuse, times when something bad seemed to hang unsaid in the air between them, and Mike feared it might indeed be possible that she had taken the easy way out and simply left without bothering to tell him. But that she should have done so without telling Dinah was inconceivable.
Unless ⦠Mike sat up suddenly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel thoughtfully as it occurred to him to wonder if certain recent changes at Vandina might have had any bearing on Rosâs sudden decision. He recalled the story of what had happened as Ros had related it to him.
Dinah had, it seemed, had an illegitimate son who had been adopted as a baby. About six months ago he had turned up, having obtained his original birth certificate and discovered that Dinah was his natural mother. Dinah had welcomed him with open arms, Ros had said, and the fact that she had found her long-lost son had gone some way towards making up for the fact that she had lost the Svengali-like figure of her husband. Was it possible he had upset Ros in some way, treading on her toes where Dinah was concerned? But even given her single-minded devotion to Dinah he would have thought she was too professional to allow something like that to drive her away without even a fight.
Mike sighed in exasperation. The visit to the police station had not, in spite of the constableâs obvious scepticism, done anything to make him less worried. If anything it had strengthened his anxiety. He was so damned sure the policeman was wrong in blithely assuming she had simply taken off. Yet he had chickened out of actually putting his worst fears into words â that in fact there was something sinister about Rosâs disappearance.
The hollow sickness that had been there in his gut to a greater or lesser degree ever since he had arrived home from camp and found her missing reasserted itself. He was not an imaginative man, but neither was he a stupid one. Less stable characters than Ros might walk out on a home, a relationship and a career because of pressures of one kind or another, and she had seemed a little preoccupied during the last weeks. But if she had intended to cut loose she would never have done it this way, leaving so many untidy ends. It just wasnât Ros. There was the telephone call to Vandina, of course, but he couldnât help wondering if she had made it under duress and that someone was perhaps holding her against her will â or worse.
The windscreen of his car had misted up against the rain. He wiped it with the back of his hand â and saw a traffic warden turn the corner of the street. Irritation momentarily displaced anxiety. Couldnât they leave him alone for five minutes? But he did not want to tangle with the law again today. He switched on the engine and pulled hastily away from the meter.
But the dark cloud of foreboding came with him.
Halfway home Mike thought again of Maggie.
Would the police get in touch with her in the course of their enquiries? he wondered. They might, and if so she should be forewarned. Mike could not imagine Dulcie would have taken the trouble to put her in the picture and it would be too dreadful to hear from official strangers that her sister was missing.
Mike had met Maggie only briefly on her infrequent visits home, when she usually stayed with her mother in Wiltshire. But he knew Ros had written her telephone number in the book beside his own phone when she had called Maggie once from his flat.
âJust in case I should ever lose my Filofax,â she had said, doodling a
Little as he liked to admit it, he could almost believe Ros might have walked out on him as the policeman had suggested. Life had taught him that women were not always to be trusted, and recently things had been a little strained between him and Ros. There had been times when Ros had snapped at him impatiently, times when she had put off a planned meeting on the flimsiest excuse, times when something bad seemed to hang unsaid in the air between them, and Mike feared it might indeed be possible that she had taken the easy way out and simply left without bothering to tell him. But that she should have done so without telling Dinah was inconceivable.
Unless ⦠Mike sat up suddenly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel thoughtfully as it occurred to him to wonder if certain recent changes at Vandina might have had any bearing on Rosâs sudden decision. He recalled the story of what had happened as Ros had related it to him.
Dinah had, it seemed, had an illegitimate son who had been adopted as a baby. About six months ago he had turned up, having obtained his original birth certificate and discovered that Dinah was his natural mother. Dinah had welcomed him with open arms, Ros had said, and the fact that she had found her long-lost son had gone some way towards making up for the fact that she had lost the Svengali-like figure of her husband. Was it possible he had upset Ros in some way, treading on her toes where Dinah was concerned? But even given her single-minded devotion to Dinah he would have thought she was too professional to allow something like that to drive her away without even a fight.
Mike sighed in exasperation. The visit to the police station had not, in spite of the constableâs obvious scepticism, done anything to make him less worried. If anything it had strengthened his anxiety. He was so damned sure the policeman was wrong in blithely assuming she had simply taken off. Yet he had chickened out of actually putting his worst fears into words â that in fact there was something sinister about Rosâs disappearance.
The hollow sickness that had been there in his gut to a greater or lesser degree ever since he had arrived home from camp and found her missing reasserted itself. He was not an imaginative man, but neither was he a stupid one. Less stable characters than Ros might walk out on a home, a relationship and a career because of pressures of one kind or another, and she had seemed a little preoccupied during the last weeks. But if she had intended to cut loose she would never have done it this way, leaving so many untidy ends. It just wasnât Ros. There was the telephone call to Vandina, of course, but he couldnât help wondering if she had made it under duress and that someone was perhaps holding her against her will â or worse.
The windscreen of his car had misted up against the rain. He wiped it with the back of his hand â and saw a traffic warden turn the corner of the street. Irritation momentarily displaced anxiety. Couldnât they leave him alone for five minutes? But he did not want to tangle with the law again today. He switched on the engine and pulled hastily away from the meter.
But the dark cloud of foreboding came with him.
Halfway home Mike thought again of Maggie.
Would the police get in touch with her in the course of their enquiries? he wondered. They might, and if so she should be forewarned. Mike could not imagine Dulcie would have taken the trouble to put her in the picture and it would be too dreadful to hear from official strangers that her sister was missing.
Mike had met Maggie only briefly on her infrequent visits home, when she usually stayed with her mother in Wiltshire. But he knew Ros had written her telephone number in the book beside his own phone when she had called Maggie once from his flat.
âJust in case I should ever lose my Filofax,â she had said, doodling a
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