Picnics in Hyde Park. Nikki Moore

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СКАЧАТЬ again.’

      ‘Fair enough,’ he stood up. ‘Right, I think we’re done here. Thank you for your time.’

      ‘Can I have another glass of water before I go please?’ She needed a minute to think, as well as rein her anger in.

      ‘Sure,’ he checked his watch, ‘but it’ll have to be quick. The next candidate will be here any minute.’

      ‘That’s fine. Thanks.’

      He nodded and picked up the glasses, leaving her alone. Springing off the sofa she strode across the room and flung open the nearest French door, propping herself up against the frame. Her heart beat a rapid ga-doom, ga-doom, ga-doom in her chest, pumping adrenalin around her body. What a bastard Matt was.

      The scent of freshly cut grass filled her nose and normally the heady smell of British summer would be a lovely distraction, a balm to the last few years of homesickness. Not today. Her fingers clenched around each other, knuckles tight.

      Then as if her system had used the last of its energy up with the hot blast of anger, belated jet lag hit hard again. A drowning wave of languor washed over her, making her eyes go gritty and heavy. Just like that, she couldn’t wait to get out of this house and away from the whole sorry mess. God, she was weary. Curling up in a ball and sinking into a deep slumber suddenly held massive appeal. She hadn’t slept properly for almost two weeks before leaving New York. There’d been too much to do, wrapping up her life and returning to her old one. The nights staring dry-eyed at the ceiling hadn’t helped either. Somewhere inside her there was a healthy need to grieve and cry, but she hadn’t been able to manage it before leaving the States.

      It had been a mistake coming here, a knee-jerk reaction. Would it be better if she simply left? Went back to Melody and helped her put her life back together, while doing the same for herself? But then she heard Matt moving around the kitchen, whistling along to a pop track currently in the UK download chart, perhaps one that he’d produced. He sounded so happy, so unconcerned. It was completely unfair. Why should he be acting as if life was peachy when he’d practically ruined her sister’s?

      She went to shut the door and her head jerked as she spotted a wooden bench tucked away in a corner of the manicured lawn, not far from a sturdy apple tree and rose-beds resplendent with pearl-white blooms. Her gaze zoomed in on a scrap of fabric draped over the seat. It was a rich mulberry colour. Melody’s cardigan, one Zoe had bought in Bloomingdale’s and paid to have shipped back to the UK for her last birthday. Next to it was a book, left open face down to keep the page. The spine would be permanently creased by now. They’d always argued about Melody’s inability to treat books with respect. Then it dawned that her baby sister had been ejected so quickly she’d not even been able to grab her things from the garden and she shook with regenerated rage, adrenalin boiling up and smothering her exhaustion.

      It was time to give Matt, a guy too similar to Greg for comfort, what he deserved. He needed to feel humiliation and hurt on every level. She was sick of men who thought they could treat women like that, tossing them aside when they were done. It wasn’t right and it stung. It ripped apart your self-esteem so you were left wondering, what’s wrong with me? Why aren’t I good enough? It ripped apart your heart so you thought, I never want to go through this again.

      Matt Reilly would pay, and not only for making her sister jobless, homeless and breaking her heart with the help of his brother, but for all the other women he’d hurt in the past. She’d read the articles. Sure, you couldn’t take everything you read in the tabloids as a given, but there had to be a grain of truth in them. If only a fraction of the hearts he’d reportedly broken since becoming a widower three years ago were true, the line of devastated women would stretch from London to Brighton and back again.

      But how was she going to do it?

      Then there was that sweet, magical moment when inspiration hit. As Matt swept back in and she turned to him, smoothing her hands down over her top, she saw an appreciative glint in his eyes, quickly hidden. Put that together with his near paranoia about the press and his desperation for privacy and she knew exactly what to do.

      This was going to be so goddamn satisfying…if she could pull it off.

       3

      ‘I don’t know about this, Sis,’ Melody twisted a piece of long, dark blonde hair around her nail-bitten finger, frowning. Lowering her voice so customers nearby couldn’t overhear, she leaned forward. ‘Aren’t you worried it might backfire?’

      Zoe stared at her sister’s pale, hollow-eyed face. ‘I don’t see how it can,’ she replied, putting her mug of latte down on the sticky table. They’d met at a cafe near Jemima’s flat in Holloway, given that part of the plan relied on Matt and Stephen not finding out they were related. ‘The risk is all his,’ she added, sliding the coffee aside so she could grasp her sister’s chilly hands. ‘And don’t you think he deserves it? Don’t you think it will do him good to be humiliated and confused, the way you’ve been? I mean, you still don’t even know why, do you? Not properly. All Matt said to you that day was that you weren’t suitable for his brother or to look after his kids and had to leave immediately. There was no conversation, no chance for you to ask why. He just threw you out.’ Melody had told Zoe more about it a few days earlier. About the way that one day she’d been a girl in love, part of Matt and Stephen’s family unit, and the next she’d been out in the cold with barely any explanation. ‘But you said that Matt seemed okay about you and Stephen seeing each other before then? You’d been together a few months?’

      ‘Yes.’ Melody gnawed her bottom lip, dark brown eyes looking bruised. ‘He was. I just don’t get it. Why the change of heart? And why wasn’t I good enough? Because we’re not rich? He never seemed like a snob to me.’ She gulped. ‘I thought he liked me.’

      ‘I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.’ Zoe paused. ‘Unless he thought you and Stephen were just casual, and then when it started getting serious he wasn’t happy? You said that you and Matt always got on well though. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you about any concerns he had?’

      Melody’s eyes brimmed. ‘No idea. Yes, we did get on well, he was more like a big brother than an employer sometimes.’

      Zoe sighed, her sister’s naivety paining her. ‘Oh, Mel. You should never confuse professional and personal relationships. That way can only lead to hurt.’

      ‘Pardon?’ Melody stared at her, dazed eyes clearing.

      ‘You should always keep a personal distance from the people you work for. You know that.’

      ‘Don’t start lecturing me. You don’t know what it was like.’ Melody flashed, yanking her slim hands away. ‘I was with the family for three years. It’s a bit late to wade in and start pulling your big sister act just because it’s suddenly convenient!’

      ‘Right,’ Zoe murmured through dry lips, throat aching. Ouch. Direct hit.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Melody gasped immediately, ‘I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t. I’m just such a mess…’ she dropped her head into her hands, shoulders heaving, ‘and I’m so angry.’

      ‘I know. Don’t worry.’ Melody was normally the gentlest person in the world. Zoe scooted her chair around the table to get closer, the legs scraping on the tiled floor. Placing a hand on her little СКАЧАТЬ