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work.
I'll ring Gran to come over."
    "Why?" Katy asked.
    "Because Seb is only home on the proviso there's an adult here"
Chloe's stomach churned, a feeling that had become uneasily familiar in the last few hours. There was no easy way to break the news to
Simone. Cold turkey was best. Straight out, no frills. The reaction
would be much the same whichever way the shock was delivered.
    But Simone amazed her. "I'll be over straightaway, lovey. Don't
you worry."

    Perhaps it was another of her acts. This time she was being the
competent older woman calmly stepping into the breach and holding
things together, ever reliable, as the crisis crashed around her family.
If only that were true for more than five minutes.

     

Chloe stood behind the counter at The Music Room serving the
trickle of customers on automatic pilot. Twice before lunchtime she
phoned Simone to make sure Seb was actually in his bed.
    "Go and check," she insisted when Simone protested he was fast
asleep.
    "He's not leaving this house, Chloe, and when he wakes up,
he'll have to explain himself to me. We've never had a thief in the
Gardiner family, and we're not starting now." Simone's voice had
resumed its normal volume, so she must have left the bedroom
and the sleeping sinner. "I've cleaned the bathroom properly for
you, and Katy and I are making muffins when she gets home from
tennis."
    "Thanks, she'll love that." Julian had cleaned the bathroom yesterday with his usual meticulous care, leaving taps and tiles gleaming, towels hung neatly and new soap in the holder.
    Tiredness slammed into her, midafternoon. Luckily the hot weather
discouraged shoppers, and The Music Room was virtually empty. She
sat on the one stool trying to keep her eyes open while her colleague,
Tran, scoured the online catalogues for a customer inquiry. With her
mind in its current overwrought state she'd chosen a soothing New
Age CD to play through the sound system. Maybe she should have
gone with Tran's preference for jazz instead. Wind chimes, rain, and
gently lilting flutes were soporific in the extreme.
    What would happen to Seb? Would that man insist on a trial? How
could she cope with work and monitoring Seb with two weeks of
school holidays left? She'd have to tell the boss she couldn't work as
much. Or Simone would move in. Horrors.

    A customer asked for a recording of Carmina Burana. Chloe roused
herself, slid off the stool, and led her to the correct section.
    A man entered accompanied by a little dark-haired girl. Chloe
glanced at the pair, then looked again. The same surge of attraction
swamped her in the instant before she could clamp down on it. It
was him. Seb's victim, the very angry man, wearing the same shirt
and slacks, clean-shaven now, gazing about the shop, those penetrating blue eyes searching for something. Her? Impossible. It was a
nasty coincidence.
    He didn't look angry now, but he might when he saw who worked
here. Chloe hurried around the end of the row so an Andre Rieu
promotional display obscured her hot-cheeked, shaking self from
sight. She couldn't face another scene here in public. Or anywhere,
for that matter. In a couple of minutes they'd be gone. He was talking to Tran at the counter. The New Age tinkling drowned out their
words.
    "Chloe." Tran's voice pulled her reluctantly from her hiding
place. "Someone to see you." He went back to the computer.
    They were walking past the COMPLETE OPERA section. Her eyes
flitted to the door. Could she make a run for it? Ridiculous. She
forced herself to stand her ground. He didn't look nearly as intimidating now, especially holding a small child's hand. The daughter?
    "Hello, Chloe." His voice was surprisingly gentle, deep, and
smooth. But she knew he had another voice, one that cut with sarcasm
and bit with anger, went for the throat and the heart. Ruthless.
    "May I help you?" Her smile wouldn't work when faced with the
memory of his venom. Her mouth dried in an instant.