clematis. It appeared some kind of rust was afflicting the leaves, but that was a problem easily sorted, as was the luxuriant bed of hydrangeas that needed to be watered.
This garden was like a little haven, she'd always found, with its rich green lawn and the late- blooming flowers. A lily pond sparkled across one pebbled corner, where a small waterfall trickled over rocks and swirled around the feet of an ornamental stork. They could barely even hear the traffic out here, or smell the fumes, so the thrumming chaos of London could have been miles away. She sighed gently to herself. Mostly she loved it here. Anyone would, it felt so tranquil and safe, but there were times when she felt almost suffocated by it. She could never say why exactly, for she sensed no hostile presence, nor knew of any sordid history, but occasionally, usually when she was alone, a feeling of doom would come over her that was as bewildering as it was unsettling.
Feeling Josh's eyes on her, she turned to look at him. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but under the harshness of his gaze she became uncomfortably aware of what she was wearing. What kind of perversity, she wondered, had made her put on the cream leather skirt he'd bought her over a year ago, that was slit high in the front to reveal her tanned thighs and that he'd always found irresistibly sexy? And despite the thin straps
and low cut of her top, she could easily have put on a strapless bra, so why had she chosen to come downstairs in an outfit she'd normally use to seduce him, when they both knew she wouldn't?
'What are you doing today?' he demanded roughly
Certain he was going to suggest she contact the therapist again, she quickly began listing off all she had to do, from taking Patsy for a service, to buying new shoes for Dan, to answering the dozens of messages on their joint email address. She was careful to leave out the lunch she was having with her closest friend, Sylvia, for he'd automatically assume she'd be discussing their problems, which she probably would. Besides, he rarely felt easy about the time she spent with Sylvia, in case her friend's exceptionally glamorous lifestyle and firm commitment to the single life started giving Julia ideas. He was much less reticent about Sylvia's talent as a writer, however, for he'd long wanted to take her on as a client, but Sylvia was fiercely loyal to the agent she had, and felt quite strongly that any kind of professional liaison could pose a problem to a friendship she valued very highly.
Julia was about to ask if he needed her to do anything for him, when Shannon shouted from her bedroom window, 'Mum! It's for you.'
Feeling as though it was an eternity rather than just a few moments since the phone had rung, Julia wandered into the kitchen and picked up the extension. 'Hello?' she said, helping herself from a bowl of blackberries.
No reply.
'Hello,' she said again.
Still no reply.
She listened, trying to hear some kind of background noise, but there was no breathing, no distant clatter, not even any interference. Looking round as Shannon came down the back stairs, she hung up, saying, 'There's no-one there. Who was it?'
To her surprise Shannon looked slightly uneasy. 'He said ... Well, he said he was your father,' she answered.
Julia's eyes widened with shock.
'That's what he said,' Shannon assured her, as though afraid of being disbelieved.
A strange humming sound seemed to have started in Julia's ears. 'Well what else did he say?' she asked.
'Not much really.'
Julia looked up as Josh carried a tray of dishes in through the French doors. 'Apparently my father just called,' she told him. 'He rang off before I got there.'
Josh stared at her in amazement. 'Your father?' he said. 'But...' He turned to Shannon.
'Don't look at me,' she cried. 'I only took the call.'
'So what did he say?' Julia prompted.
'Nothing. He just asked if he could talk to you.'
'He must have said more than that,' Julia pressed. 'You