A Stranger's Kiss

the circumstances she would probably feel the same way. She angrily turned the taps on in the bathroom, her mood destroyed completely, wondering what friendly little voice at Victoria House had taken the trouble to pass on the information that she should watch her back.
    Well, she would go. She owed the woman that. She would reassure Jane that she had no intention of disrupting her domestic arrangements with Adam. For her own peace of mind she hoped never to speak to the man again.
    And Jim was back on her trail. It was time she put an end to that once and for all. She dialled his number but there was no reply. Then with a squeal of panic fled to the bathroom just in time to prevent a flood.
    * * *
    She did sleep. She awoke heavy eyed and heavy limbed to the alarm clock, hardly sure what day it was. She lay still for a moment collecting her thoughts. Thursday. The week was apparently endless. But it was Thursday, her busiest day. Time to get up.
    She climbed out of bed. The paperboy had pushed the local weekly through the letterbox and the postman had delivered his usual quota of bills. She picked them up and dumped them on the kitchen table and went and stood under the shower to finish waking up.
    She checked her diary. There were several appointments which caused a frown to gently furrow her brow. She and Beth had to make up the salary cheques for the girls today for collection on Friday. And there was the local newspaper to scan for advertisements for vacancies and follow-up contacts to make offering to take the pain out of staff hunting.
    She swallowed her tea, grabbed the mail and newspaper and hurried to the office. It was only just past eight o’clock when she arrived, but Beth followed her in with the same idea of getting an early start.
    They both settled down immediately to their respective newspaper advertisements and had a list to work through by nine-thirty. Beth did quite well, despatching a couple of her people for interviews and then prepared to depart for her chat with Jenny Harmon.
    ‘I can’t wait to see the inside of Victoria House. The atrium is lovely. Such gorgeous shops. So individual, not all carbon copy replicas of every other shopping centre.’
    Tara half smiled. They might not look it, but every one of them was part of a countrywide chain. Like the wine bar they were all part of the Blackmore empire. A very small part. But instead of working at an instantly identifiable image, each shop had been individually designed for its locality and given its own name. Women who wouldn’t be seen dead in a chain store used them every day without a qualm.
    ‘The whole building is quite stunning. I’d love to be able to afford a suite there. People would have to take us rather more seriously if we could boast Victoria House as our address.’
    ‘Hey, listen, lady,’ Beth said, sternly. ‘We are being taken seriously these days. Business is looking up and the holiday season hasn’t started yet.’
    ‘Yes, you’re right.’ And there was the added bonus of her fee for working for Adam. Financially at least, things were getting better, and not just because of Victoria House, word seemed to be getting around. ‘It’ll be all smiles at the bank next week.’
    ‘Oh, it has been this week, my love. Quite a change of atmosphere. The manager actually spoke to me yesterday. Just to pass the time of day.’
    ‘Wonders will never cease. Here we go.’ The temps began the lunch time rush with their time sheets.
    ‘I’ll bring you back a sandwich.’
    When Beth returned triumphant some time later, Tara took the opportunity to walk down by the river for a blow of fresh air. March had tipped over into April and suddenly it was warmer, spring-like, with blossom everywhere. She sat on a bench watching the river. The leisure-craft were being moved into position for the summer season and there was a general bustle about which would normally have enchanted her.
    Nothing seemed to register, however. Tara watched it all happening as if she were seeing events taking place on a stage a long way off. She was no longer involved.
    She sighed and opened the newspaper and instantly her eye was drawn to a photograph of a young dark-haired woman, baby cradled at her elbow, a smiling man leaning over to touch the tiny fingers.
    Adam.
    It was like a knife through her heart and, as she was caught up in a torment of guilt and jealousy the paper fell from her lifeless fingers, blew across the grass and sank into the