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lunch glance at her curiously.

James was leaning towards her, his voice low. ‘Then don’t.’

She looked up to see that he was offering her a handkerchief, which she took to dab furiously at her eyes.

‘Don’t leave him, Sis,’ he was saying, using his old pet name for her in the way he’d done when he was a young lad. This time it wasn’t spoken teasingly. ‘Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face, Julia. If you do you’ll ruin two lives. Promise you’ll hang on to him. He needs you, Sis. He might need you more as time goes on. Say you won’t let him down.’

It was so earnestly said, almost prophetic, that she stared at him before again bowing her head, this time in compliance.

By the time they said goodbye to each other, he had convinced her of the stupidity of letting emotion run away with her. She’d stick to the promise she had made. She even found herself waiting in great anticipation for the beginning of next month when her next period would be due, if it came at all.

Meanwhile there was always work. Whatever her differences with Simon, as partners they still continued their business compatibly enough side by side.

Twenty-Eight

It was all very well for James to counsel her to stick it out. She was trying but how did one stick it out, when there was never any response?

Six weeks now and it was destroying her. To make it worse she had missed her second menstrual period which should have been around the beginning of this month, October. It confirmed her condition. James’s advice was right. How could she leave Simon now?

She sat tense and uneasy in an armchair. Dinner had been cleared away and Simon was lolling on the sofa. There was a time when he would have patted the cushion next to him for her to come and cuddle up to him. It was so obvious that he saw this child she carried as not his. How could she prove to him that it was?

Knowing how foolish she had been tortured her constantly. She yearned to be able to go back and change everything. She started to think that for both their sakes it might after all be best if she did leave. Desperately she tried to will Simon to glance up from his catalogues, but he continued reading, deliberately it seemed cutting himself off from her. Her insides felt as if they were being tied in knots; she had to find a way to bring up the subject of the baby.

She’d tried several times in the past but at the slightest reference to her condition he would change the topic so abruptly that she had no heart to repeat herself. She could read his thoughts almost as if he’d put them into words: ‘I don’t want to know!’

She knew Simon was the father of her baby; she just had to make him believe it. But how? There was only one way to resolve the doubt and that was to have their doctor examine her and hope that he would be able to confirm when she had conceived. The following morning she made an appointment to see him the same day.

‘I’ve made an appointment to see Benjamin Marwood at the surgery,’ she told Simon as soon as they had opened up for the day. Dr Benjamin Marwood was a friend as well as their doctor. ‘It’s at nine thirty. I’ll be gone half an hour.’

She said it in such a brisk tone that he looked up, startled.

‘Why? Aren’t you well?’ he asked anxiously. She was hardly ever ill.

‘I merely need to consult him, that’s all,’ she said and went out leaving him to think what he liked.

In his surgery Marwood washed his hands, dried them carefully, his head half turned towards the screen behind which Julia had gone to tidy herself.

‘Well, Julia, I can confidently say you are going to be a mother come May. I’d like to be the first to congratulate you.’

As she emerged from behind the screen to gather up her hat and handbag, he came and planted a peck on her cheek. Having now discarded his doctor’s white coat, he was again the family friend.

‘I am sure Simon will be over the moon, if he isn’t already. Perhaps we can all go out for dinner to celebrate on Saturday evening, what do you think?’

Julia’s smile was happy and full of relief. ‘That would be nice. I’ll tell him,’ she said, trying to control her emotions. Here was the proof she needed.

She could hardly wait to get back and tell Simon, to take him aside, banish his doubts and fill his heart with joy.

‘Simon, can you spare me a moment?’ she said to him as she came into the boutique. ‘I’ve something important to tell you.’

He’d been talking to someone. Politely excusing himself, he came over to her. ‘Not now, Julia. I’m in the middle of some important business.’

‘This is important too – very important,’ she said. ‘I’ve some good news and I need to talk to you now.’

‘Just one minute then,’ he replied and moved away, leaving her to chafe. She knew it was the wrong time to talk of family affairs but there were some things that took precedence over all else, even business.

It was ten minutes before Simon finally shook hands with the man and courteously showed him out. By this time Julia’s exhilaration had fallen away to be replaced by seething indignation at Simon’s casualness. When he finally turned his attention to her she was in no mood for joy or anything else as he asked how she’d got on at the doctor’s and if she was all right.

‘I’m fine,’ she answered tersely. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. But this is a private matter and I need to talk to you upstairs.’

‘We can’t both leave the shop. A buyer telephoned while you were out. I made an appointment for you to see her at eleven thirty. I

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