Chapter 1: The Client

Her father was a solicitor who had just joined a practice in a new town and they were still living amongst the packing boxes. Tonight there was to be a drinks party for the partners and their families and some of the practice's key clients. It would be hosted by the senior partner and his wife and her father had asked her if she would come along with them for additional moral support. Not especially enthusiastic about the company, but reluctant to turn down an invitation to a party, she had agreed. Standing in the midst of her boxes, searching for any shoes that would go with any dress in her wardrobe, she was beginning to wonder if that had been wise.

It was only ten minutes until her father would be pacing the hall complaining about the timekeeping of the women in his life. She unearthed a pair of navy high heels, which she wore with a navy jersey dress. That would do fine. On with the dress, comb through the hair, the slightest hint of make-up and she was done. With seconds to spare, she bounded down the stairs as her father came out of the sitting room door. She registered first his surprise at her being ready on time, then his approval of her choice of outfit for his big evening.

Twenty minutes later, the car drew up in the sweeping drive of the senior partner's house. The door was opened by one of the hired staff and the genial hosts were in the hallway greeting guests as they arrived. Her father introduced her mother, then her. They exchanged pleasantries, then passed through into the drawing room where some dozen guests were already chatting quietly, drinks in hand.

As parties of this kind go, it was quite pleasant. She had already met some of the other partners and their families, so she was able to entertain herself to some extent during the evening as her parents were introduced to some of the most important clients of the practice. In the normal way, people joined groups in conversation, then drifted off to talk to another group. She was talking about the horrors of moving house with an elderly couple when a man joined their group. She lost the thread of what she was saying, but recovered quickly.

Their host, who was standing next to her, introduced them, telling the man she was her father's daughter. He clearly knew her father and the host must have assumed she knew who the man was because he only referred to him by his first name. He was fair, with kind, captivating blue eyes, long eyelashes and a nose which can best be described as interesting. He had an easy manner and made her feel comfortable as he asked her how she felt about moving to this area and how hard it had been to leave behind her friends. After a few minutes, another one of the partners strode up and drew the man away to meet someone who had just arrived.

For the remainder of the party, her eyes seemed to be drawn back to him. Each time she looked at him, she found him looking back at her. She could feel her face flush, but allowed herself to feel a little flattered. When her father came to say they were ready to leave, she took one last look around the room but he seemed to have gone and she wondered why she was so disappointed.

In the car on the way home she drifted into a daydream, missing great chunks of her parents' conversation, leaving her lost when they asked her opinion on whatever the topic was. That night, as she floated towards sleep, she could conjure up his face in vivid detail. Ah well, she might come across him again if he were a regular client.

She had two weeks holiday before she started her new job, so she had planned a lazy morning, followed by a similar afternoon. She came down after her parents had left for work and made some toast to take back upstairs with her. As she passed through the hallway, she picked up the post from the mat. Casting a casual glance at it before putting the pile on the hall table, she noticed one addressed to her. Strange. She wasn't expecting anything and she didn't recognise the handwriting. Sticking it in her dressing gown pocket, she continued her journey, toast in hand, back to bed. Covering it with marmalade, she opened the letter which she was astonished to find was from the man at the party.

"I hope you will forgive me for my shady tactics, but I obtained your address - or rather your father's address - from Annie Barrett, on a fictitious pretext, so that I could contact you. I was so glad to meet you at the party and it was extremely frustrating to have to leave before I could speak to you again.

Please have lunch with me in town today if you are free. I shall be in Belinda's at one; please do come if you have no other engagements."

It was handwritten on company paper and signed only with his first name. She needed a little while to take this in. She ran a bath; she could always think better surrounded by bubbles. Sinking into the warmth, she closed her eyes and the sharp image of his face came immediately into her mind. This was strange, since she had a shocking memory and could often instantly forget people's faces as soon as they were out of sight. But he had made quite an impression on her and - if this letter was anything to go by - she would appear to have made some sort of impact on him. What on earth should she do? Should she ring her father and ask if he was the sort of man she should have lunch with? No, that wouldn't do. Should she be having lunch with any man she hardly knew? Well, it was only lunch and she would be meeting him at the restaurant. What harm could it do? She would like to find out what kind of a man he was - was he as interesting as he looked?

Out of the bath and standing in front of the wardrobe now - casual, smart but casual, semi-formal? Not too dressy, that would look like it was an important date. No, she should dress as if she had been doing other things that morning and had come as she was. But how was she? Oh, God. Calm down. Just pick something tidy and stop fussing. Settling for a mid-grey trouser suit with a lemon blouse, she ordered her taxi before she could change her mind.

She was relieved as she got out of her taxi to see him walking towards her, smiling broadly.

"I was so afraid you wouldn't come," he told her. "I thought you would wonder what sort of weirdo this man was, writing to you out of the blue like that. Are you hungry? I'm ravenous. Come on in."

He swept open the door of the restaurant and her nerves dissolved. From the moment they sat down they settled into an easy conversation and within the duration of a lazy lunch they had found out a great deal about each other. They knew each other's taste in music, favourite colours, what they were reading at present and that they both had very ticklish feet. They laughed and talked until they were the only people left in the place.

"Do you think it's time we made a move?" he asked her eventually.

"Oh dear, have I kept you from your work. I am sorry."

He laughed. "No, don't worry about that. I have nothing to do this afternoon that won't keep. But please don't let me keep you if you have other plans."

Rather too eagerly she said she had no plans for the afternoon.

"In that case, would you like to go for a walk. I can show you a bit of the country side."

"That would be lovely."

He led her to his car and opened the door for her to get in. A voice in her head began to talk sternly to her about getting into cars with strange men, but she silenced it very quickly. There was something genuine about him that put her completely at her ease. As he got into the car, he turned and flashed her a smile which made every nerve in her body tingle. She was utterly lost. She had been attracted to men before, but she had never experienced this. She hardly knew him, but her heart was racing and she wanted this afternoon to last forever.

He drove a little way out of the town and stopped the car just off the road. They walked along a footpath for a while, then veered off through the woods until they came to a long, wide lake. They walked round the water's edge, then sat down for a while to enjoy the view across the lake to the trees beyond.

Making their way back to the car, their pace became slower and slower, both of them reluctant to have the afternoon end. As he pulled up outside her house she thanked him for lunch and a lovely afternoon.

"I'm so glad you were brave enough to come. I've enjoyed today very much and I'm really reluctant to say goodbye to you." Encouraged by her smile, he continued. "Please have dinner with me. Can I pick you up around seven?"

She agreed without a second's hesitation, then reluctantly forced herself to get out of the car.

When her mother returned from work, she called down to tell her that she would be out for dinner, before claiming the bathroom to begin a couple of hours of intensive preparations. When she made her entrance downstairs, her father's head appeared from over the newspaper.

"Good Lord. For whom have you wrought this work of art?" he teased.

She told him that it was a man she had met quite recently and realised as she spoke that she still had no idea of his surname. She noticed his car turning in the road outside, so she hurriedly called her goodbyes to her mother, kissed her father's cheek and made for the door before there was any question of the awkward pre-date conversation.

As she bounded down the drive, he got out to open the car door for her, planting a tiny kiss on her cheek in greeting. She got into the car and as she waited for him to come round and get into the driving seat, she caught sight of her father peering through the curtains, with what can only be described as a look of astonishment on his face. She thought he must be impressed by the very smart car and laughed to herself.

They chatted easily as he drove. She had no idea where they were going. He was wearing black tie and she was glad that she had decided to dress up a little.

"I thought we would go somewhere quiet this evening. Are you hungry?"

"I can't imagine how I am, after the lunch I ate, but I think the walk must have given me an appetite."

After twenty minutes, the car swung through a pair of elaborate iron gates and along a winding drive. Through the trees a large house came into sight. She guessed that this was one of those country house hotels. He was clearly aiming to impress her and he hadn't failed.

Pulling up at the foot of the steps, he got out and came round to open her door.

"Will it be all right to leave the car here? Shouldn't you park it somewhere?" she asked.

"No, it's fine. I'll leave the keys and one of the staff will park it."

He gave her his hand as she got out, then didn't let go, but wrapped her arm round his as they walked up the steps, through the double doors and into the hallway. It was a beautiful place, with pillars, a marble floor and a sweeping curved staircase. A man in a tail coat came towards them. He nodded to her escort, then to her.

"Good evening, Madam. May I take your jacket?"

"Thank you."

Her attentive escort took her arm and led her through a doorway into a large reception room. He poured them both a drink, then joined her on the brocade sofa. He resumed telling her a story he had started in the car. He watched her look round the room.