the show.
‘How can I trust you’ll turn up?’ he asked.
This man had an interesting way of remembering the past.
‘Two reasons. One.’ She thrust her forefinger into the air in case he missed the point. ‘I’m not the one with the history of disappearing. Two.’ Second finger up. ‘I need the money.’ She slid the rest of the photos into her bag and thrust out her hand. ‘See you tonight.’
Blake took her hand. The way he captured it was nothing like the quick handshake she’d been aiming to deliver. His touch held the promise of a night to remember. ‘I can’t wait,’ he said.
She couldn’t speak. His touch robbed her of the ability to think, to reason. Her eyes burned brighter than a lighthouse beam across a dark ocean. She turned away. Away from temptation; away from the man who’d taken her heart and treated it with such carelessness; away from the man who would steal the most important person in her life. Away. Away. Away.
‘Leave the country as soon as possible,’ the lawyer instructed.
It felt as though the cord of the telephone was wrapped about Sarah’s throat and slowly tightening. Her breath came in short gasps. It had taken her half an hour to find a legal-aid lawyer willing to talk to her. What he’d explained was a thousand times worse than any scenario she’d imagined.
‘But won’t that set us up for an acrimonious legal battle from the start?’ she asked.
‘You’ve read the papers. The Taylor versus Hamilton-Smyth case. Eleanor Taylor lost her house, her business and has had to live in the UK for over a year while this case was being contested. Can you afford to stay in London indefinitely? Because that’s the situation you could face. Leave the country and fight this case from Brunei.’
‘I have to see him in less than an hour.’ She leant her head against the cool glass of the telephone box.
‘Cancel. This man is your son’s father. He has every right to take him any time he wants and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. He’s the father. While you’re in England, don’t meet with this man again.’
‘I have to.’
‘If you want to be in the driver’s seat in this custody battle, you need to get back to Brunei. Especially as you’ve said he’s extremely wealthy and you’re not. What you’re not taking into account is how he will react. Missing ten years of his son’s life could make him angry. How well do you know this man?’
The lawyer waited for an answer. Shame prevented her from supplying him with one.
‘Your son’s father could keep you in this country almost indefinitely,’ he said. ‘A court could order you to surrender your passports and you’ll be trapped in England for months, if not years.’
A muffled voice sounded in the background on the other end of the line.
‘Sorry, Ms Walker, I have to go,’ he said. ‘My next case is here. Good luck. I don’t want to see your name plastered all over the papers.’
Sarah hung up the phone and left the traditional red English phone box. The sweet warmth from the glorious summer’s evening did nothing to melt the icy fear that had taken up residence in her heart. She’d have to lie by omission through the whole of dinner. She couldn’t leave without that ten thousand dollars.
She caught the tube to Marble Arch and walked down Park Lane to The Dorchester. She slowed when the hotel came within sight. A smartly dressed doorman stood in front of the revolving doors. Her palms prickled with moisture and she smoothed them down her simple black shift dress. She’d picked up the outfit from a Sydney charity store during her last fundraising visit to Australia. It might be second-hand but it was designer and fitted her just right. She hoped she wouldn’t stand out in all the wrong ways amid the luxury.
She paused and closed her eyes for a moment.
You can do this.
She took a deep breath, and walked quickly to the hotel entrance.
‘Welcome to The Dorchester,’ the doorman
‘How can I trust you’ll turn up?’ he asked.
This man had an interesting way of remembering the past.
‘Two reasons. One.’ She thrust her forefinger into the air in case he missed the point. ‘I’m not the one with the history of disappearing. Two.’ Second finger up. ‘I need the money.’ She slid the rest of the photos into her bag and thrust out her hand. ‘See you tonight.’
Blake took her hand. The way he captured it was nothing like the quick handshake she’d been aiming to deliver. His touch held the promise of a night to remember. ‘I can’t wait,’ he said.
She couldn’t speak. His touch robbed her of the ability to think, to reason. Her eyes burned brighter than a lighthouse beam across a dark ocean. She turned away. Away from temptation; away from the man who’d taken her heart and treated it with such carelessness; away from the man who would steal the most important person in her life. Away. Away. Away.
‘Leave the country as soon as possible,’ the lawyer instructed.
It felt as though the cord of the telephone was wrapped about Sarah’s throat and slowly tightening. Her breath came in short gasps. It had taken her half an hour to find a legal-aid lawyer willing to talk to her. What he’d explained was a thousand times worse than any scenario she’d imagined.
‘But won’t that set us up for an acrimonious legal battle from the start?’ she asked.
‘You’ve read the papers. The Taylor versus Hamilton-Smyth case. Eleanor Taylor lost her house, her business and has had to live in the UK for over a year while this case was being contested. Can you afford to stay in London indefinitely? Because that’s the situation you could face. Leave the country and fight this case from Brunei.’
‘I have to see him in less than an hour.’ She leant her head against the cool glass of the telephone box.
‘Cancel. This man is your son’s father. He has every right to take him any time he wants and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. He’s the father. While you’re in England, don’t meet with this man again.’
‘I have to.’
‘If you want to be in the driver’s seat in this custody battle, you need to get back to Brunei. Especially as you’ve said he’s extremely wealthy and you’re not. What you’re not taking into account is how he will react. Missing ten years of his son’s life could make him angry. How well do you know this man?’
The lawyer waited for an answer. Shame prevented her from supplying him with one.
‘Your son’s father could keep you in this country almost indefinitely,’ he said. ‘A court could order you to surrender your passports and you’ll be trapped in England for months, if not years.’
A muffled voice sounded in the background on the other end of the line.
‘Sorry, Ms Walker, I have to go,’ he said. ‘My next case is here. Good luck. I don’t want to see your name plastered all over the papers.’
Sarah hung up the phone and left the traditional red English phone box. The sweet warmth from the glorious summer’s evening did nothing to melt the icy fear that had taken up residence in her heart. She’d have to lie by omission through the whole of dinner. She couldn’t leave without that ten thousand dollars.
She caught the tube to Marble Arch and walked down Park Lane to The Dorchester. She slowed when the hotel came within sight. A smartly dressed doorman stood in front of the revolving doors. Her palms prickled with moisture and she smoothed them down her simple black shift dress. She’d picked up the outfit from a Sydney charity store during her last fundraising visit to Australia. It might be second-hand but it was designer and fitted her just right. She hoped she wouldn’t stand out in all the wrong ways amid the luxury.
She paused and closed her eyes for a moment.
You can do this.
She took a deep breath, and walked quickly to the hotel entrance.
‘Welcome to The Dorchester,’ the doorman
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