But that would have to mean that she was capable of hurting him and she knew she wasn’t. He saw her merely as someone who would make his business life easier-a memory from the night before came to her-and someone he desired.
She blinked back the tears that threatened. This wasn’t going to work out. Ever. Better she cut her losses and leave.
“So I suppose that means you aren’t going to marry me after all.” His mouth was compressed.
“I don’t think it would ever work,” she said, and the ache of loss spread through her, drowning her in sadness.
The drive back to London took forever.
Miranda was conscious of Callum’s hands gripping the steering wheel. They’d stopped twice-briefly-but neither lingered; both of them were eager to get back to London.
There was a constant ache below Miranda’s heart. Christmas was over. And so was any brief accord she and Callum had shared. Heaven help her, she’d enjoyed playing Callum’s girlfriend. She had come so close to a chance to make it real. And she suspected the ache eventuated from her knowledge that it could never be real. Any relationship between her and Callum had been doomed before it could get started.
Finally the car turned into the narrow street where she lived. As soon as it drew to a halt, Miranda leaped out. “Thanks-”
But Callum was already at the trunk, taking out her overnight bag and the baskets, now filled with a collection of empty containers and kitchenware.
“Let me take that.” He relieved her of the handle of her overnight bag. At the top of the steps, he paused. “Miranda-”
The door swung open and Flo fell out, her eyes wild. “Oh, darling, I’m so glad you’re here. Adrian is in such trouble. He’s taken my car to sell it because he needs to get his hands on some cash.”
Nosing his car into one of London’s seedier suburbs the morning of Boxing Day, Callum was grateful for being given the opportunity to talk some sense into young Adrian’s head-when they finally found him. They’d driven around London most of last night and been unable to locate Flo’s car, either with or without Adrian in it.
Miranda was beside herself. “What if he’s hurt?” She unfolded arms that she’d folded less than a minute ago. “This man’s a criminal. He might kill Adrian. Though I might just kill him myself,” she said darkly. “What is he thinking?”
He glanced at her. “We’ll find Adrian. There are only so many places that’ll be open today where he could sell the car. But surely Adrian doesn’t think that’ll make this blackmail problem go away? He’ll have to keep paying this crook money forever.”
“That’s what I told him.” She looked utterly miserable, curled up in the passenger seat. “But he still didn’t want me to tell you. He hero-worships you, you know. I should have taken matters out of his hands and told you earlier-but I didn’t want him to end up like Mum, evading responsibility for his actions, getting someone else to do the dirty work. I’d already had to find the money for the panel beater the first time. So I told him I wouldn’t give him any more money, thinking that would mean he’d have to tell you. But all he did was keep putting it off-and beg me not to tell you. I never thought of him trying to sell Mum’s car.”
If he could get his hands on her brother right now all hero worship would end. Didn’t Adrian realize what he was doing to his sister?
He could understand why she hadn’t dobbed Adrian in-she had a fierce loyalty to her family and she was right about it being Adrian’s job to ’fess up. None of this could have been easy on her. He said, “We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.”
Whether Adrian would still be fine after Callum had gotten through tearing a strip off his hide was quite another matter.
“You must be regretting giving Adrian that job.” It was four hours later and Miranda knew Callum must be gnashing his teeth, but he showed no sign of it as they pulled up at their third car fair, facing the now-familiar sight of hundreds of cars being examined by backpackers and students all looking for a bargain. And the equally familiar trawl up and down the lines in the slanting drizzle, searching for Flo’s Kia.
Except this time they found it in the second row.
When Adrian saw them approaching, his shoulders sagged. “I suppose I’ve wrecked my chances of ever landing that scholarship now?” he said to Callum as the three of them huddled under the shade cloth.
“You should have come and told me-young men often do silly things.”
Adrian flushed under the older man’s scrutiny.
“Do you realize how much worry you’ve caused your sister?” Callum put his hands on his hips and stared Adrian down. “She’s got enough on her plate without having to run after you all the time.”
Her brother looked sheepish. “I didn’t think.”
“No, I don’t suppose you did. Nor did you think when you rushed off with your mother’s car. You’re going to be going off to university or to work and you’re going to leave your mother-and sister-without a car?”
Adrian lowered his gaze and stared at the floor, thoroughly chastened.
After a pause he looked up and met Miranda’s sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry, sis. I shouldn’t have done it.” Turning to Callum, he asked, “What will you do about-”
“About the reparation for the car you crashed?”
Adrian swallowed, and his eyes flickered nervously from side to side. “Uh, yes.”
Callum inspected Adrian, then said, “I have a social welfare project I’m putting together-I’d like you to be involved.”
Adrian looked astonished. “Me?”
“Yes.” Callum started to smile. “I rather suspect that you’re going to have a busy year. I know that the scholarships committee is going to want to meet you. You’re going to have to work hard to impress them. I can’t get you in on my recommendation alone.”
Adrian appeared about to fall down with relief. “Oh, no, I understand that. I’ll do my best.”
“Good.”
That one word told Miranda of the high expectations Callum had of her brother. Her brother would be in good hands-the best.
Flo nearly wept when Callum, Miranda and Adrian returned to the little terrace house with her car. But it became clear that Callum had plans for her, too.
“Miranda is going to be very busy with her new business.” He gave Flo a meaningful stare. “She’s going to need help.”
“I can help.”
Miranda started to object. What could Flo do-aside from spend money like water? But Callum held up a hand, halting what she’d been about to say.
“I could help her with baking-as I did last week.”
That was true, her mother had been a great help in the time leading up to Pauline’s birthday.
“You could also probably take charge of hiring the crockery, cutlery and glasses that Miranda needs.”
“Yes, yes.” Flo looked animated. “I know a couple of places that would give me very good deals.”
Callum was brilliant.
Miranda could see what he was doing: giving her mother’s life meaning. And giving her responsibility. If it worked, it would be fantastic.
Callum had insisted on taking Miranda out for dinner. She needed a break from the mayhem that her family had caused. And afterward he took her to his town house for coffee.
The lights were blinking on the Christmas tree in the drawing room, giving his home a welcoming ambience after the cold and drizzle of the day. As they sat in two comfortable armchairs in front of a roaring fire, their cups of coffee untouched, Miranda said apologetically for the umpteenth time, “I’m terribly sorry for all the inconvenience my family has caused you.”
He waved a dismissive hand, not wanting her to take responsibility for her mother and brother. “Don’t worry about it. Everything is sorted out.”
She gave him a hesitant smile. “Not quite everything.”
“What have I overlooked?”
“I never answered your question.”
“Which one?”