ed; Mimi didn’t usually cover the kind of content that needed running past the editor.
“Yes. Potentially huge story I’ve sort of stumbled upon. Not my usual thing.”
“Can you give us a clue? He’ll want to know.”
“It’s to do with the ozone replacement machine. It’s dynamite, seriously.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know. I’ll give you a call, yeah?”
“Thanks, Jo.”
“Good girl.” Stone’s voice reverberated in her head as Mimi made her way back to the Ministry of Trivia. “Do this for me and I will reward you tonight.”
Tonight. That reminded her. She was to go to the chemist and buy condoms. Much as she tried to make that thought revolt her, the throb between her legs would not die away, and the prospect of the evening in Stone’s bed refreshed that desire until the urge to go to the ladies’ and relieve herself of it became almost unbearable. But Stone had stipulated no masturbation. She knew he wanted her to ask him to take her, rather than just doing the deed without her consent. She knew the act of acceding to her request would be more sexually satisfying for him that the orgasm that would follow. She knew all this, but she couldn’t find the fight inside herself to resist it. It wasn’t worth it. And there was something else. Something that drew her to him, besides the crude mechanics of sexual need. Something she hadn’t quite worked out yet, but which nonetheless held her better judgement to ransom.
She went to the ladies’ anyway and stood regarding her face in the mirror.
“Am I different?” she asked her reflection aloud. “I don’t look different.”
Stone’s voice through the thought link answered her. “You’re different, Miranda. You’re different because you belong to me now.”
“Stop gloating,” she said to him, before taking out her mobile phone and checking it for messages. So many missed calls from Anna. Agonised sympathy convulsed her for a moment, driving the itch for sex with Stone away for just those few seconds.
“I want to speak to her. I should be there for her,” she insisted.
“Leave it. Speak to her tonight. You can say you had too much work.”
“Have you seen her today? Can’t you be kind to her? Tell her you forgive her?”
“I’ll think about it. Now go to your desk. I don’t want you missing that call from Prendergast.”
Anna lay on her bed, holding her mobile phone above her head, as if insistent concentration on the slim rectangle would cause it to burst into song, presaging Mimi’s mother hen advice and sympathy.
It remained obstinate in its silence, though, and Anna’s arms were beginning to tire. She let it drop onto the duvet, sinking down with her limbs, which felt weighted today. She couldn’t get up if she tried—and why try? Why try anything now?
More tears. Were there really any left? After last night, she thought the well must have run dry. Perhaps these tears came from the babe. Would he still want the child? She managed to lift one hand high enough to place it on her still-flat stomach, protective even in grief.
The sound of footsteps outside caused her to turn her head away. It would be Luana, to dust and vacuum the room. She could not face Luana today.
But the voice that spoke after the handle was turned and the door opened was not Luana’s.
“Anna.” It spoke gently, almost apologetically. Her heart quickened with sudden hope.
“John.” She sat up, reaching out her hands. “Please believe me.”
“It’s after midday,” he said, perching on the bedside but refusing to take hold of the proffered hands. “You haven’t eaten anything. Luana is making soup. I’ll have her bring some up.”
“I couldn’t, not until you…please…”
“Think of the child.” The cold edge in his voice was unmistakable.
Anna lay back down, thumping her head back on the pillow in despair.
“You don’t love me anymore,” she said, her tone flat. “There is nothing for me here. I’ll leave.”
“No, you won’t.”
Anna mistook the certainty in his voice for passion, and she sat back up, finding a spark of hope in this insistence.