The Bedroom Assignment

‘You do know this place well, don’t you?’ he said thoughtfully.

Zoe straightened, reaching into the fridge for a packet of ground coffee. ‘I live in hopes I’ll move back one day,’ she said unwarily.

‘When you’re no longer needed as reinforcement?’

‘Yes.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Your father is dead? Abroad? In prison?’

Zoe put down the foil pack so suddenly that coffee skittered across the pristine work surface like fingerprint powder. ‘Prison?’

‘He’s the natural reinforcement,’ he pointed out. ‘Not you. If he’s not around, there has to be a really good reason.’

She gave a harsh choke of laughter. ‘There is. She’s called Saffron. Nearer my age than Mum’s, with a heart like a calculator.’

Jay digested this in silence.

She shook her head. ‘Damn. Why did I say that?’

Jay looked at her flushed face as she shovelled the spilt coffee into the cafetie`re with jerky movements. She seemed really furious with herself.

He said gently, ‘Because you needed to, at a guess.’

Zoe put down coffee and cafetie`re, and stood back. She was looking at the mess on the work surface with something like horror. As he watched she put up both hands and pushed her hair back, pulling so tight he could see the pale skin stretching over he temples. Her hands were shaking.

‘I don’t know what’s got into me tonight,’ she said in a suffocated voice. ‘I never say things like that. Mum always wants me to slag off Saffron and I won’t.’ She whipped round, hands on the work-top behind her, and glared at him. ‘Did you put something in my drink?’

Jay raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, sure,’ he said dryly. ‘I always carry truth serum with me.’

At that, she smiled reluctantly. ‘Sorry. Stupid of me. Just that tonight—’

‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘Tonight has been strange.’

If she had been sitting opposite him at the kitchen table he would have taken her hand then. But she wasn’t. She was three feet away, staring at him as if she could not imagine how she had let him in here.

‘Weird. I’d never have thought of having coffee with you after midnight in a million years.’

‘Gee, thanks, Zoe. You’re just great for the ego.’

She brushed aside his wounded ego without apology. ‘Well, not like this, I mean.’

The thought flittered across his brain that he had never before sat across a kitchen table at four in the morning with a woman who worked for him. Still less asked her to tell him her life story. He dismissed it.

‘So, what else do you need to get off your chest?’ he said lightly. ‘Lives at home. Doesn’t want to. Dreams of getting away…’

‘It’s not like that—’ she began. But then the kettle boiled and she had to concentrate on making the coffee.

Jay sniffed the rich air appreciatively. ‘Kaldi, you’re my man.’

Zoe looked up, confused. ‘What?’

‘Kaldi. Ethiopian shepherd. Supposed to have discovered coffee.’

‘You mean it wasn’t Sir Walter Raleigh?’

‘Hey, English pirates didn’t discover all the recreational drugs of choice,’ he said, reaching for the cafetie`re.

Zoe searched a cupboard, failed to find mugs, and opened the dishwasher. She hooked out a couple of elegant black and gold mugs, sniffed them, decided they were clean, but ran them under the hot tap just to be certain.

‘High housekeeping skills,’ murmured Jay, entertained.

Zoe was practical. ‘No, but I know Suze. I don’t want to add salmonella to this evening’s new experiences.’

She banged the mugs down on the table between them. He pressed the filter down through the coffee sludge. Zoe was turning back to the fridge, but for some reason she stopped, mesmerised. He was doing it very, very slowly. With relish, even. Her colour rose inexplicably.

‘You look as if you’ve done that before.’

He gave her his wicked up-and-under look. ‘My speciality.’

She swallowed. ‘Yes. Well. Er—milk?’

He declined. Flustered, she spent a great deal longer than was necessary poking around in the fridge for juice. By the time she came up for air he had set a chair for her opposite him.