Buried there among the receipts, parking chits and bills was a small, rather crumpled black-and-white photo. It was of his ex-wife, Lucille. She’d always preferred monochrome photographs, saying they had more drama; but borrowed drama was not something Lucille needed. Her face was startingly beautiful, with shoulder-length black hair, dark eyebrows and arresting blue-green eyes.

She had been so young when they’d met, and he had been on the crest of his own success. Maybe she had been right that he’d thought he was a young god who could demand anything of anyone. He’d certainly behaved like one.

It had taken him years to stop blaming her for leaving and understand why she might have done it; at the time, all he’d felt was blazing anger. How could she simply abandon her husband and ten-year-old child – disappear from their lives as if by a wave of a bad fairy’s wand?

Lucille had been the love of his life. Deep down, in the depths of his unconscious, did he want her to return and find out how much he had changed? And what had happened to her? Where had she gone?

He was going to find out a lot sooner than he imagined.

Nineteen

‘Meredith!’ Jo arrived in Meredith’s adopted study just as she was getting ready to go and see one of the local lawyers about Steph’s tax problem. ‘Someone rather surprising to see you.’

‘Who?’ demanded Meredith. She was already running slightly late, which she abhorred, and didn’t want any further delays.

‘Me,’ announced Jackie, ‘just in case you were about to say anything rude.’ She turned to Joanna. ‘Speaking of being rude, I don’t suppose there’s any chance I could speak to Meredith alone?’

‘Fine.’ Meredith pointed to the salon. ‘Come in here for a moment.’

‘Sorry about that,’ Jackie grinned. ‘Outrageous, I know, but look – I’ve got a proposition to put to you and I wanted to do it alone. I know you’re the one who really runs things round here.’ Meredith was about to protest. ‘Oh, I’m sure you’re pretty fair to the others and they’re important in their way, but in the end you’re the majority owner so in my book you’re the boss.’

‘Look, honestly, I have a meeting with a lawyer in town and I really am going to be late . . .’

‘Don’t worry.’ Again, that infectious grin. The woman actually expected Meredith to like her! ‘I’ll drive you. Which one is it, Madame Petit or Monsieur Gelignac?’

‘Madame Petit, as a matter of fact.’ Meredith tried not to sound actively rude. How did this bloody woman know everything that happened round here when she wasn’t even a local?