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She nodded. ‘Say thank you to Edward, Isaac.’
He almost couldn’t bear this. Charlotte’s cold determination was one thing, but Isaac seemed genuinely sad at their parting. He dropped to one knee and the boy flung his arms around his neck.
‘Thank you, Edward. I’ve had a good time.’
‘Me, too.’
‘Can we come back to see you again?’ Isaac turned his questioning gaze up to Edward.
‘Yes, of course. Any time you like. But I’m going to be working hard for the next few weeks. We might not see each other for a little while.’ Isaac would probably forget all about him in the space of those weeks. He wouldn’t make this more difficult for Charlotte than he had to.
Isaac nodded. ‘Okay.’
His trusting acceptance of the lie almost made Edward choke, and he hung for dear life onto the thought that at all costs the child should be protected from the mistakes of his elders.
‘Thank you.’ Charlotte’s face was flushed and she was a moment away from tears.
He should go. Her tears didn’t make any difference, and the tearing pain in his chest didn’t either. Whatever he felt, whatever he did, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t have it in him to give any more, and more was exactly what she deserved.
‘Take care, Charlotte.’ He turned on his heel and walked down the front path without looking back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHARLOTTE HAD BEEN dreading returning to work, but it seemed that Edward had dropped out of the life of the Hunter Clinic almost as effectively as he’d dropped out of her own. Even when he was there she wasn’t part of his patient care team, and she wondered whether he’d had a quiet word with someone to make that happen.
Perhaps it would be a good idea to look for another job. It was going to be awkward, being faced with the possibility of seeing Edward day in and day out. Particularly since this feeling didn’t show any signs of going away. If she had to grieve the loss of the man she’d hoped might be everything to her, then she’d rather do it in private.
She made a few calls and managed to get Friday off. She presented herself at an employment agency at nine o’clock that morning, and by ten she’d been interviewed, the consultant had reviewed her CV, and had promised that she’d be able to find her another job easily.
It was the first step. The next step was to go and see Edward’s father, explain the situation to him and ask whether he’d take payment for all that he’d done. It might take a while, but she’d pay that debt off even if she couldn’t pay the one she owed to Edward.
When she called his office, his secretary said that he was out all day and took a message. On to step three. She hurried home, changed into an old pair of jeans and T-shirt, and went up to Isaac’s room. He’d been so good this week, obviously missing the extra space to play and Edward’s large, widescreen TV, but he hadn’t complained. Isaac was playing with a friend this evening and she wouldn’t be picking him up until eight. She had plenty of time to finish off the little treat she had planned for him.
She surveyed the blank wall opposite Isaac’s bed. It wasn’t Edward’s garden or his TV that Isaac missed. Her son was feeling the same way that she was. He missed Edward. The way he played with him, the way they laughed at the same jokes, how he’d been there for him when things got tough.
‘Stop it.’ She admonished herself as harshly as she could. Every spare moment she’d had for the last week, whenever she’d been alone, she’d spent the time crying. It was time for her to face facts and get on with it. She’d gone into this with her eyes open, knowing full well that a quiet guy with things to hide was going to cause her pain. Now she’d just got what she had asked for.
She looked at her watch. Eight hours before she had to go and pick Isaac up this evening. She’d better get moving. She hurried to her bedroom and pulled the box of paints and the carefully cut stencils out from under the bed. Time to get to work.
* * *
Edward didn’t need to think too hard about what he was about to do. He’d already thought it to death, and the one thing he needed to do now was to act. His diary was clear for the day, and he’d hoped that he could make some progress on the research paper that he was writing, but when he’d heard that Charlotte had taken the day off he’d grasped his opportunity.
When he drew up outside her house he noticed that the front window was open. She must be home. He knew that she wouldn’t go out without locking the place up securely.
He pressed the doorbell. Flipped the letterbox open and heard the sound of music coming from somewhere. Looking upwards, he thought he saw some movement behind the thick muslin curtains that shaded what must be her bedroom.
‘Charlotte...’ He called through the letterbox and waited.
Nothing. The music seemed to have stopped and the house was quiet. He slipped the package he’d brought through the letterbox. That was hers, and if she wouldn’t let him in he could at least make sure she got it.
The first part of his plan was achieved. The second would be a little more difficult. He straightened up, wondering whether he should go and wait in his car. She had to come out sooner or later.
His gaze lit on a small arched alleyway which ran between Charlotte’s house and next door’s, giving access to the back gardens. At the far end were two gates, the one on Charlotte’s side slightly ajar.
The gate opened into a small, neat garden. There was washing on the line, and when Edward twisted the handle of the back door it opened.
‘Charlotte?’ He poked his head inside and called to her, not wanting to frighten her. ‘Charlotte, it’s Edward.’
