City Cinderella. CATHERINE GEORGE

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      ‘Emily, thank heavens. You’ve been engaged forever. You’ll never guess who came round here this evening!’

      Emily sighed. ‘I bet I can—Miles.’

      ‘Yes. How did you work that out?’

      ‘He rang my parents earlier, but my father gave him a very un-Christian ticking off, according to Mother.’

      ‘Brilliant! That must have been before he came here, then. I was in the shower when he turned up, so Charlie left him cooling his heels in the hall until I deigned to appear.’

      ‘Well done. What did he want?’

      ‘Your phone number and address, of course.’

      ‘You didn’t—’

      ‘Of course not. Even though he kept hammering away that it was a matter of life and death that he got in touch with you.’

      Emily snorted. ‘Not a hope.’

      ‘My words exactly. He didn’t like it one bit,’ Ginny informed her with satisfaction. ‘Took umbrage, big-time.’

      ‘What happened then?’

      ‘Charlie showed him the door.’

      Emily giggled. Ginny’s large husband was by nature imperturbable, unless someone was foolish enough to upset his wife. ‘I don’t suppose he physically threw Miles out?’ she asked hopefully.

      Ginny laughed. ‘Next best thing. I doubt Miles will pay us a repeat visit. Let’s hope he doesn’t try to visit you, either. Has he ever met Nat?’

      ‘No. Hopefully he never will, either.’

      The idea of Miles tracking her down kept Emily awake for a while, but in the end she slept well enough, and woke with a feeling of anticipation she eventually identified—with alarm—as pleasure at seeing Lucas Tennent again. None of that, she warned herself, and went off to take a shower.

      When Emily went downstairs later Nat was in the hall, about to leave for the day. He looked tired and pale, but not, she saw with relief, as depressed as he usually did after parting with the twins.

      ‘How did it go?’ she asked warily. ‘I didn’t like to barge in on you yesterday to ask.’

      ‘The twins flew at Thea, and before she could say a word demanded that I stay for tea.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘To my amazement, their wish was granted. And the occasion went off surprisingly well, mainly because the twins dominated the entire occasion over the tea and cakes.’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows? Next time maybe Thea will ask me to supper.’

      ‘Oh, Nat, I do hope so. By the way,’ she added, ‘my ex left a message on my phone last night.’

      Nat’s eyes narrowed. ‘How the hell did he get hold of the number?’

      ‘No idea. I just hope he doesn’t ferret out the address, too.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Em. I’ll deal with him if he does. Give me a photograph.’

      ‘No can do. I burned them all.’

      ‘Description, then.’

      ‘About your height, but heavier, dark eyes and hair, toothpaste ad smile, and so full of himself you’ll recognise him on sight.’

      Nat grinned. ‘You’re still angry with him, then.’

      ‘Livid!’ She looked at her watch. ‘Must go.’

      ‘You look rather special this morning,’ he said, giving her the once-over.

      ‘Things to do after my morning cleaning session,’ she fibbed. ‘But I’ll see to your place this afternoon.’

      ‘Right, I must be off, too.’ Nat gave her an evil grin. ‘And don’t worry, if Mr Denny comes knocking I’ll throw him out, neck and crop.’

      Emily set off for her normal working day with anticipation she firmly dismissed as utter nonsense. Lucas Tennent was feeling rough and needed company; she was merely the person willing to brave his germs. And to brighten him up she was wearing a newish yellow sweater with her jeans, and a touch of make-up. No big deal.

      By the time the lift doors opened on the top floor of Lucas Tennent’s building Emily had herself well in hand. She was the cleaner. Lucas Tennent paid her wages. For the moment he was feeling so rotten he needed a helping hand. So she would be brisk and efficient, hand over the paper, complete her usual cleaning routine, make lunch for him, then go straight home again.

      Emily pressed the buzzer, unlocked the door and called her name. And this time Lucas appeared at once, haggard, the bloodshot eyes dark-ringed, but with a smile of greeting so different from the hostility of the day before it did serious damage to her resolutions.

      ‘Good morning, Emily Warner. Good of you to come.’

      ‘I’m always here on Mondays.’ She handed him the paper.

      ‘Thank you just the same. But be of good cheer,’ he said, leaning in the doorway. ‘No need to change sheets and force pills down my throat. I’ve performed both duties myself, already.’

      ‘Well done.’ She took off her jacket and put it on the chest. ‘How do you feel?’

      ‘Not wonderful. But better than yesterday.’

      Which was obvious from the interest he was taking in her appearance.

      ‘Back to bed now,’ she said briskly. ‘Read the paper while I tidy up.’

      ‘Forget that. I need conversation. Come and talk to me for a while—’ Lucas broke off to cough, and Emily gestured towards his bedroom.

      ‘Please go back to bed.’ She went ahead of him to stack the pillows and turn down the newly changed covers. ‘You should have waited for me to do this,’ she said severely. ‘Because you don’t feel so marvellous now, do you?’

      ‘No,’ he admitted, and slid into bed with a groan of relief.

      ‘Have you had anything to eat today?’

      ‘I drank some milk.’

      ‘Better than nothing, I suppose,’ said Emily, and smiled her approval.

      ‘Cute dimple,’ he commented.

      ‘What would you like to eat?’ she asked, ignoring him. ‘Eggs in some form would be best. Something light to start you off.’

      ‘At the moment I feel too feeble to lift a fork. Later, maybe. When I’ve got over my exertions.’ He eyed her irritably. ‘For the moment just sit down and talk to me, woman.’

      Objecting hotly to this form of address, Emily stood her ground for a moment, then sat down on the chair beside the bed. ‘Oh, very well. What shall I talk about?’

      ‘You.’

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