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taking her back now you would be doing the harm. She’d withdraw into her shell, she’d resent you as well. Life wouldn’t be worth living for either of you.’
    He was right, damn him, but Debra was reluctant to admit it. ‘Suppose we stay, then,’ her chin lifted determinedly, ‘what do you propose doing about your behaviour?’
    ‘Precisely nothing, my dear Debra,’ he said coolly. ‘It’s you who’s worrying, not me, and I’m perfectly sure Liz isn’t either. If I were you I’d push all this nonsense about me trying to seduce Liz out of your head. In the long run you’ll see that you’ve been bothering about nothing.’
    With those words he left her and walked back into the house, and there was nothing she could do except follow, admit defeat, and wait and see what happened next.
     

CHAPTER THREE
    The next morning Vane drove Debra down to the offices of Vanoli, leaving Liz still asleep. Cars and trams were nose to tail along the entire route, and it took them so long that Debra thought they would have been better off walking.
    She did not speak, their affray of the day before still uppermost in her mind. Inside the building they each went their different ways.
    She had scarcely seated herself when the phone rang. It was Vane. ‘I’d like to see you in my office,’ he said.
    Why the hell couldn’t he have mentioned it before, whatever it was? she pondered angrily. It was ridiculous him sending for her like this when they had only just parted.
    But her frown faded when she saw the troubled look on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
    ‘I’ve just had a phone call from London,’ he said. ‘They’ve received a consignment of dresses from Yam Ling Kee with the wrong embroidery on. Why the hell no one checked them, I’ll never know. But I want you to get over there right away, tell them what’s happened, and insist that I have a new lot ready by this time next week. If not they lose my business.’
    ‘A week’s not long,’ said Debra, ‘don’t you think you’re pushing it a bit?’
    ‘You’re paid to do as I say,’ he snapped furiously. ‘My reputation is at stake here. Go now, take a taxi, or get someone to drive you. I think it might be best if you had a car of your own. Send Mr Fu in, I’ll ask him to see to it.’
    This was the business side of Vane Oliver, demanding and expecting obedience to his wishes. Debra had no thought of defying him.
    The company were all apologies for their mistake. It transpired they had used appliqué work instead of embroidery for the intricate details which were Vanoli’s trademark. In actual fact Debra felt sorry for them. There was so much work involved. Surely it would not have mattered on this one occasion?
    But clearly Mr Oliver was a revered person and in no way did they wish to lose his custom. ‘We will do it,’ Mr Ho, the young Chinese manager, assured her. ‘No problem at all. Perhaps he will let us have the others back. We may be able to sell them elsewhere.’
    ‘Not with Vanoli’s label in,’ said Debra sharply. ‘He’d never forgive you.’
    ‘I understand,’ replied Mr Ho. ‘We will cut them out, naturally.’
    ‘Make sure you do,’ she said sternly, ‘if you value Mr Oliver’s business, because if that lot get on to the market with Vanoli’s label in there’ll be hell to pay, and I’m not joking.’
    ‘Do not worry, Miss Delaney,’ he said earnestly. ‘We will start work on the corrected garments straight away. Mr Oliver will not be disappointed.'
    Rather pleased with herself for managing to sort out this, her first problem, Debra hurried back, only to discover that Mr Oliver had gone out, leaving a message to say that he would not be back that day.
    Left with nothing else to do so far as her new job of troubleshooter was concerned, Debra made her way to the showrooms, intending to study Vane’s designs so that she would have a good idea of the sort of accessories he would need to go with them.
    She had not