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by a middle-aged
    woman with greying black hair who looked nervous.
    It was the woman who spoke. 'Thespinis Masters—I am Yannina. I
    have come from Kyrios Marcos to fetch his nephew, the little Nicos.'
    Her anxious expression splintered into a broad smile as she spied
    Nicky, who had relapsed into instant shyness at the sight of strangers
    and who was peering at them from behind Harriet's skirt.
    She crouched down, holding out her arms and' murmuring
    encouragingly in Greek, and slowly Nicky edged towards her.
    Harriet picked up his case and handed it to the chauffeur, who nodded
    respectfully to her.
    'Kyrios Marcos wishes to assure you that the boy will be returned to
    you on Sunday evening, not later than six o'clock,' he said in careful
    heavily accented English.
    'Thank you.' Harriet hesitated. 'I—I thought he would be coming to
    fetch Nicky himself.'
    The chauffeur looked surprised. 'He is waiting below in the car,
    thespinis. If you have a message for him, I would be glad to convey
    it.'
    Not, Harriet thought, the sort of message I have in mind. She forced a
    smile and shook her head, and stepped backward as Yannina took
    Nicky's hand and began to lead him away. He looked back once and
    grinned and waved, and Harriet felt a lump rise in her throat as she
    shut the door between them.
    This time, wild horses weren't going to drag her to the window to
    watch them go.So he'd decided to stay downstairs in the car, which
    was a delicate way of telling her not to read too much into a kiss. Had
    he sensed something in her untutored, unguarded response to what he
    would regard as quite a casual caress that had warned him it might be
    kinder to keep his distance?
    The thought shamed her to the core. She felt sick and empty, and
    although she tried to blame this on Nicky's carefree departure, she
    knew she was fooling herself.
    The unpalatable truth she had to face was that every nerve, every
    pulse beat in her body had been counting away the hours, the minutes,
    the seconds before she saw Alex Marcos again. She knew too that the
    ache beginning inside her now was deeper and more wounding than
    mere disappointment or injured pride, and she remembered Manda's
    warning, and was frightened.

CHAPTER THREE
    HARRIET felt pleasantly tired as she walked back towards the house
    late on Saturday evening. She had done all the things she had
    promised herself to do, and had managed to fill her day too full for
    thought, even treating herself to the pure luxury of afternoon tea at a
    hotel.
    When Becca had been carrying Nicky, she had once laughingly
    remarked that when you were pregnant, every second person you met
    seemed to be in the same condition. Paradoxically, Harriet thought,
    when you were alone, everyone else seemed to be. in couples. But
    then London had always been a bad place in which to be solitary.
    But she didn't have to be alone, she told herself. If and when Nicky
    went to Greece, she would find a flat to share with girls of her own
    age. There were plenty advertised.
    She opened the front door and walked into the hall, to be pounced on
    by one of the downstairs tenants, looking severe. 'Three times!' she
    announced with a kind of annoyed triumph. 'That's how many times
    the phone has rung for you in the past hour and a half, Miss Masters,
    and you not here!'
    'I'm sorry,' said Harriet in bewilderment. 'Was there a message?'
    Mrs Robertson produced a slip of paper. 'You're to ring this number
    and ask for this extension. And now if I might get back to my
    television programme,' she added aggressively as if she suspected
    Harriet of being in league with the unknown caller to keep her from
    the last few minutes of 'Dynasty'.
    Harriet dialled, and was answered from the switchboard of a famous
    London hotel. Faintly she gave the extension number, thinking
    frantically, 'Nicky—my God, something's happened to Nicky!'
    Alex Marcos answered so promptly that he might have been waiting
    by the phone. Her heart gave the oddest