Page 84 of Tears of Ink
There’s a click of nails on a hard surface. “Mr Fairclough is in a meeting. May I take a message?”
I breathe an irrational lungful of air, shaking my head at my own stupidity.
“Could you tell him Miss Hitchin called?” I drag another toke on my smoke.
“The artist, right?” The voice on the other end picks up a little.
“Pardon?”
“Faith Hitchin, the artist?”
“Uh, yes. How do you know that?”
I shake my head and almost smack myself upside my head. Of course, she knows that. I’m sure Elijah might have mentioned his charity project at his huge stately home. “Never mind, can you tell him I called?”
“Oh, hold on, he’s coming through now. Please wait.”
Why, oh why, is my heart pounding? My palms slick with sweat and I have to grip my mobile tighter.
“Faith?” Oh God, my stomach dips as his voice comes across the line. I need to stamp this out right now. Like, right bloody now.
“Hi,”
There’s a shift on the other end of the phone, a faint crackle and movement. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I clip. “I just wanted to let you know Lewis is fine, but your mother and granbaronessy might not be talking to you anymore.”
There’s a pause. “I’ve seen a message already.”
“Yikes, that was quick.”
He snorts a dry laugh. “Anything else I can help you with?” He is distant, cold, and it pinches my insides.
Faith, don’t be a fool.
“No.”
“Listen,” his voice drops. “I don’t think I’ll get back for a few days.”
“Oh.” There isn’t much else to say.
“Will you manage?”
I’m not sure what he’s asking. Will I manage the teenagers I foolishly agreed to help on some summer art camp? Will I cope without seeing him for a few days when he’s managed to worm his way into my head?
Didn’t he say he wanted a date with me on Saturday? Weren’t we last night connecting on some level I never ever anticipated?
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I hang up, frustrated at the prickle of tears tingling the back of my eyes. No. I won’t be weak.
This is what happens when I let people in. They end up letting me down.
Well, more fool me.
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