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reckon there’s a time and a place for looking at serious issues—in fact I think that’s extremely important. Still, to me life’s not worth living if you can’t have fun, at least occasionally. ”
    “Hmm…” James said, and looked at her. Their eyes locked for just a bit too long. His were the most amazing deep hazel. He glanced away. “It’s strange,” he muttered, then added, frankly: “You remind me of someone.”
    “Really?” Chloë was surprised. The conversation appeared to have taken a personal turn. “I thought I was unique.”
    “Well, I’m sure you are.” James laughed, and looked at her again for a bit too long. God! Did he know what that did to a woman? Chloë’s stomach lurched. “But you do remind me of someone.”
    He must be referring to his spouse, Chloë told herself firmly. “Don’t tell me,” she said. “I remind you of your wife.”
    “Who told you I was married?” James sounded disarmed. Clearly he wasn’t aware she knew.
    “Jean, I think. I gather she and your wife are friends.”
    “Ah, yes, Maggie and Jean go back a long way. Though no, you’re nothing like Maggie.”
    Chloë didn’t know how to take this, but curiosity got the better of her. “Who, then?”
    “A girl I once knew.”
    “Oh.” Chloë was fazed.
    “Broke my heart, though I didn’t admit it to her or anyone else at the time. But enough—you’re not here to hear about my problems … Anyway, it was years ago. More wine?”
    “Yes, please.” What kind of problems? He seemed the picture of a man who had it all. But Chloë wasn’t a journalist for nothing. She wanted the whole story. Especially because the longer she sat there, the more appealing she found him …
    Still, the indirect approach was probably the way to get him to reveal more about himself, so she shifted the conversation in a different direction. She could lead him back to this later.
    “Let’s order,” she prompted. “I’m starving.”
    Over the starter they talked further about the magazine. James explained that although he was happy to give it his blessing, she would have to get first Vanessa then the board to back her. And while Chloë knew she had a lot further to go, she couldn’t help but feel a burst of pleasure, boosted by his support. By the time they’d finished the first course, she felt on a real high. She was flushed and needed a breather.
    “Just going to powder my nose,” she said. “Back in a minute.”
    As she got up, James’s mobile rang. He fished it out of his briefcase and looked at the number calling. Over his shoulder Chloë glimpsed it too.
    Maggie , it said.

 
    6
    Damn Jamie and his sports equipment! Why couldn’t he ever tidy it up instead of throwing it in the hall cupboard after using it? It meant that Maggie, who was searching for her trainers, could never find anything.
    Ah, there they were.
    It was over a week since her shopping spree, and Maggie was pretty sure she wasn’t pregnant. She had all the signs of a pending period, so she had decided to adopt an additional strategy to occupy her till she ovulated again: get fit. She’d considered joining a health club, but communal classes weren’t her scene. No, she’d rather be able to decide when and where she would exercise. It was simply a question of disciplining herself. She pulled on the trainers and lifted first one foot then the other onto the towel rail of the stove to stretch her hamstrings. Leaning forward, she was glad to discover she was still quite flexible.
    Outside on the gravel drive she jogged up and down, inhaling and exhaling to get used to the rhythm, and set off down the lane. She decided to follow her old route, thinking she would only manage one circuit.
    Ah, the blue, blue sky, the fresh air pumping in and out of her lungs, the sound of her feet on the tarmac— this was why she loved running. She flew past neighboring cottages with their lovingly tended gardens—little surprise that Shere had won several