Elizabeth Power - Terms Of Possession

‘No. J-just toast,’ she stammered, although remarkably she didn’t feel too bad this morning, she realised, as quickly she tagged on, ‘And it’s all right. I’ll be down.’

‘Why? Does my being in your room make you feel uncomfortable?’ he quizzed, with that sensual mouth curving sardonically. Hitting the nail on the head! she thought as he turned and went out before she could even think of a suitable response.

He didn’t appear to be around when she came down into the sunny breakfast-room, although the round oak table was laid for two, with the second place having already been cleared. The smell of freshly toasted bread hung appetisingly on the air. She could see three slices in the toast-rack. And there was a freshly made pot of tea steaming under a padded cosy, even though she could still smell the lingering and rather nauseating aroma of coffee he had obviously made for himself. Clearly he’d remembered her saying yesterday how her pregnancy had given her an aversion to it, she thought, with a reluctant gratitude to him for that much at least.

He didn’t reappear before she had eaten two slices of the toast with honey and almost drained the teapot, and, having finished, she got up from the table, tugging at the rather tight waistband of her jeans. Soon she would have to leave them off for something a little more comfortable, she realised with a grimace, but at that moment there was something more pressing on her mind. Something she should have done last night, if she hadn’t been so exhausted, and which she could do more easily now while Cameron wasn’t around.

Crossing the little passage to the sitting-room and the phone that stood on the table behind the door, feeling like a criminal, afraid of being caught, quickly she dialled the number of the convalescent home.

‘Hello. It’s me, Nadine.’

The sister, a bright, breezy woman, informed her that Dawn Kendall was out, undergoing a routine appointment at the hospital, and instantly launched into a comforting patter on how the rehabilitation exercises were helping her immensely, telling Nadine that she shouldn’t worry.

‘Thanks. You don’t know what that means to me.’ She smiled, visibly relaxing, and then, hearing a sound along the passage, said quickly, much more quietly, ‘I’ve moved out of the flat, but you can reach me at this number—’ hurriedly she conveyed it to the sister ‘—if you need to call me at all.’

She tried to put the phone down quietly, and only succeeded in dropping it into its cradle with a noisy little clatter, realising how guilty she must have appeared as, with a little gasp, she whirled round to see Cameron watching her from the doorway.

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