Page 60 of A Change of Location
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Confused and angry, Martin was stuck somewhere between the disbelief and denial phases of grief. Heavy rainfall was the least of his concerns as he left the Newbridge roundabout and joined the stream of vehicles zooming along the A303.
“I’ve known plenty of women attracted to my useless title and my mountain of money. You’re the first one to be repelled. If I ever meet that reporter, I’m having her arrested.”
“On what grounds?”
“Disturbing the peace. My peace. And our happiness.” His gaze shifted from the road when he asked gently, “You were happy, weren’t you?”
She adjusted her seatbelt, tugging at it as though desperate to free herself from confinement. “I’ve never had a nicer vacation.”
He ground his teeth. “That’s all it was for you?”
“I wasn’t sure it could ever be anything more.”
“Just going through the motions, were you? I’ve got no complaint about your motions, they’re wonderful.” Determined to rein in his frustration, he said quietly, “We’re sleeping together. We planned an entire promotional campaign. I’m about to ask my solicitor to initiate a work visa sponsored by Milver Vale Properties, Limited.” His eyes shifted to the side, and he saw how tightly she gripped her mobile. “You never explained why you broke up with what’s-his-name. Your ex. Did he have too much money?”
“He’s a corporate lawyer at a major Boston firm.”
“How did he handle your desertion?”
“I don’t know. I told him to never call me again and left the party.”
“Harsh.”
“Justified,” she insisted. “I’m sure Joel was relieved that I saved him the hassle of breaking up. And I couldn’t bear starting out the year with someone who no longer wanted to be with me. The worst part was being stranded downtown and trying to find a cab on New Year’s Eve. Impossible. Huge crowds, because of the First Night celebrations. Hordes of people had come to see the ice sculptures and fireworks. It was freezing cold and the streets and sidewalks were covered with slippery patches. Getting a rideshare took forever.” Her gaze hadn’t wavered from her phone.
“If you want a coffee, we’ve got enough time to stop at Amesbury services before we join the M3.”
“My hotel room will have a kettle. I’ve just completed remote check-in.”
Short of running out of petrol—his tank was half-full—or puncturing a tire, he couldn’t delay the parting that she decreed absolutely necessary.
“It just about killed me, seeing you cry when you said goodbye to Jewel.”
“She didn’t understand what was happening.”
“Neither do I.”
Hannah turned her head towards him. “Imagine the awkwardness of remaining at Stanwell when my former colleagues arrive. They would assume I was living with, and leeching off of, Britain’s millionaire marquess. And they’d be correct.”
“You’d be working for him. I mean, with him. With me.”
She drew a long, shaky breath. “After so many years as a scout, I wanted to reach the next rung of the ladder. Through no fault of mine, I lost my chance to be location manager. I know Liz has other development deals in the works. She’ll do whatever she can to make amends for the way Owen Parry and Alistair McLaren shafted me.”
From the earliest days of their acquaintance, her pragmatism and dedication to her odd profession had fascinated him. Now it was the wedge separating them.
Hurtling along the M3 wasn’t at all conducive to conversation. Martin switched on the radio and pretended he preferred jangling guitars and husky vocals to a dialogue that increased his wretchedness.
A traffic jam to block the ramps and roundabouts would be heaven-sent. But the signals were working beautifully. There wasn’t a single breakdown in his or any other lane.
Instead of pulling up to the front of the hotel, he drove to the car park.
She dropped her mobile into her handbag and zipped it.
Saying nothing, he stepped out and removed her case from the back seat.
She looked up at him. “Don’t come inside, or you’ll make this way harder. For both of us.”
