‘You should have broken it,’ she said at once.
‘Also, I wasn’t sure if your employers knew about you. I didn’t want to let the cat out of the bag, precisely because there are people like Philip Hale in the world.’
‘I thought you were like him,’ she admitted. ‘Last night—’
‘I didn’t react very well, I know. But it’s like floundering in a sea of confusion. I try to remind myself that it’s worse for Joey.’
‘Yes, poor little soul. Outsiders can’t imagine—the sheer frustration when the words are building up inside you and you can’t get them out—and people look at you as if you’re crazy—’
‘If that’s meant for me, don’t bother. We’ve already agreed that I’m a hopeless father with no idea what his son needs.’
‘Surely you know one thing that he needs? His mother. Even if you and she have fallen out, she’s the person with the best chance of understanding him. If he had her, he wouldn’t have to indulge in fairy tales about film stars.’
‘What makes you think he’s indulging in fairy tales?’ Carson asked wryly.
‘Oh, please! I’ve seen Angelica Duvaine’s picture by his bed. She looks about twenty.’
‘She’d be thrilled to hear you say so. She’s twenty-eight. That picture’s been cleverly touched up. Mind you, even the reality looks much younger than the fact. She’s worked on her appearance—diet, massage, exercise. The next thing was going to be plastic surgery to lift her breasts. It was the row over that that made her finally move out. Not that she was here much anyway, by that time.’
‘Are you telling me that Angelica Duvaine really is Joey’s mother?’ Gina asked, only half believing.
‘In a sense. Her real name is Brenda Page but it’s years since she answered to it. When our divorce is finalised in a few weeks she won’t even be that any more.
‘I know I look like the monster separating mother and child, but I wouldn’t be doing it if she showed any interest in him. You should read some of Brenda’s press interviews. She’s never once told the world she has a son. From the moment she realised Joey had a problem with his hearing, he ceased to exist as far as she was concerned. He was a blot, something to be ashamed of. My wife, you see, values physical perfection above everything.’
He waited a moment, to see if she had any answer for this.
‘Oh, dear God!’ Gina whispered at last. ‘That poor little boy.’
‘Joey adores her. God knows why, when she treats him so carelessly. She goes away, ignores him, comes back for five minutes, then goes away and breaks his heart again. But he never holds it against her, no matter how badly she behaves.’
‘Of course not,’ Gina said. ‘He thinks it’s his fault.’
He looked at her strangely. ‘Is that how it was for you?’
‘Something like that. I was lucky in my mother—she was wonderful, but she died. My father—well, I think he actually found me repellent. And I knew I must have done something terrible to make him not love me.’
‘And that’s what Joey thinks?’
‘He told me that his mother loves him. He probably explains her absences by blaming himself. But I’m only guessing.’
‘So what do I do?’ Carson demanded. ‘Explain to him that his mother is a selfish woman who loves nobody but herself? That she remembers him when it suits her and abandons him when it suits her? Why do you think I’m trying to separate them finally? Because I can’t stand the look on his face when she leaves again—as she always does.’
‘But she’s his mother—she must love him, in her own way—’
‘Then why didn’t she take him with her? I wouldn’t have tried to stop her, if she’d really wanted him. Don’t judge every mother by your own. They’re not all wonderful.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said helplessly. ‘I had no right to criticise you without knowing all the facts.’
He ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it. At some point he’d removed his tie and torn open the throat of his shirt. The man in control had slipped away, leaving only the man distracted by forces he didn’t understand.
‘I guess I can’t blame you on that score,’ he said. ‘It’s something I do myself. What are all the facts? How can you ever know?’
‘Tell me about Mrs Saunders. Is she qualified to help Joey?’
‘I thought so. Brenda hired her. Apparently she once worked in a school for children with special needs. But Joey dislikes her. He has violent tantrums. Only yesterday he had a terrible screaming fit.’
‘But that’s frustration. It’s not fair to call it a tantrum.’
‘Maybe not. But I think that’s why Mrs Saunders took today off. She needed a rest. Who’s that?’
The doorbell had rung. Frowning, Carson went to answer it, and returned with Dan.
‘You said your car was still being repaired,’ he explained, ‘so I thought I’d give you a lift home.’
‘Very thoughtful,’ Carson said, ‘but I would have provided Miss Tennison with a taxi.’ He looked at her reluctantly. ‘Were you anxious to leave?’
‘That depends on Joey.’
‘It’s about his bedtime.’
‘Why don’t you put him to bed?’ Dan said to Gina. ‘I’m sure he’d like that.’
His smile was full of cheerful kindness, yet it struck a strangely false note with Gina. She didn’t have time to brood over it. She signed bedtime to Joey, and he jumped up and came with her eagerly.
‘I won’t be long,’ she told the two men.
‘Don’t hurry too much, darling,’ Dan muttered to her. ‘I’ve been trying to meet Carson Page for months.’
So that was it. She couldn’t really blame Dan. He worked hard and he had his way to make in the world. But tonight had been about Joey and his needs, and Dan’s opportunism jarred with her.
While Joey got into the shower she returned to his room to fetch the towelling robe she’d seen hanging behind his door. On the way back, she stopped and looked over the banisters. She could just see where Dan and Carson were sitting together, talking. At least, Dan was talking. All she could see of Carson was his back, but something in the set of his shoulders told her that he was finding Dan’s monologue hard going.
Joey turned off the shower and came out straight into the bathrobe she was holding up for him.
‘An—ooo!’ he said painfully. Thank you.
She put him to bed, and asked him, signing, if he wanted to read. He shook his head and lay looking up at her from his pillow, smiling. He seemed relaxed and happy, quite different from the tense, nervous child of the afternoon. Impulsively Gina leaned down and kissed him.
‘Is he ready to go to sleep?’ Carson asked from the door.
‘Just waiting for you to come and say goodnight,’ Gina told him.
She stood back so that father and son could hug each other, but Carson only said awkwardly, ‘Goodnight, son.’
Joey struggled to say goodnight, and managed the word pretty well, but Gina could feel Carson’s tension.
‘Goodnight, Joey,’ she said.
She was about to turn away, but Joey detained her with a hand on her arm. She sat on his bed and watched as he pointed at himself, then curled over the middle three fingers of his hand so that