‘Miss Tennison, I thank you for saving my son, and-’ for the first time he seemed to falter ‘-and for the understanding you have shown him. You’re a credit to your employers, and I shall be writing to the senior partners to say so.’ He emphasised ‘senior’ very slightly. Philip Hale noticed and his eyes narrowed.

Gina let out a slow breath, more confused than she’d ever been. He was brusque, harsh and arrogant, but he was also fair.

Carson reached out to Joey. All the fight seemed to have drained out of the child, and he took his father’s hand without protest. But he was weeping with a kind of resigned despair that broke Gina’s heart.

She watched as father and son walked out and headed for the front door. They got halfway. Then Carson stopped and looked down at the child who, by now, was wiping his face. He put his fingers under the boy’s chin, and lifted it, looking urgently into his eyes. Then, more gently than Gina would have believed possible, he took out a handkerchief and dried the little boy’s tears. He looked back at her. For the first time he seemed unsure of himself.

‘You’d better come with us,’ he said. ‘I mean-if you can spare the time.’

Gina opened her mouth to say that of course she would come, but suddenly she was swept by alarm. She wanted to help this vulnerable child, yet a great weight seemed to be crushing her.

‘I-I-’ she stammered.

‘Go with him and make yourself useful,’ Hale said, speaking through gritted teeth. ‘I shall have things to say to you later.’

She collected her bag and hurried to catch up with them. Joey watched her, eyes wide, smiling. Then he put up his hands and spelled out, ‘Come too.’

‘Yes,’ she said, clearly. ‘I’m coming, too.’

‘Then let’s go,’ Carson said.

CHAPTER THREE

ON THE journey, nobody spoke. Sitting in the rear, with Joey, Gina could only see the back of Carson’s head. It had a forbidding look. The child seemed simply content to have her there. Gina was trying to calm herself, battling with traumas she had thought would never trouble her again.

For a while she’d been back in the old nightmare of childhood, hemmed in by silence and misunderstanding. It was a prison from which she’d hoped she’d escaped, but suddenly the walls had been there again. Now she was struggling with herself. She didn’t want to return to that prison, and yet Joey’s need was so great…

What was she thinking of? she wondered. This was one brief visit, and then she would never see either Joey or his father again.

She was bitterly disillusioned by Carson. Was it only yesterday that she’d thought she detected charm and kindness beneath his gruff manners? Goodness, had she been wrong about that!

The truth about him was that he was as prejudiced about deafness as anyone else, and furious at the fate that had given him a deaf child. To blazes with him! she thought stormily.

She realised that the little boy was trying to catch her attention, spelling out some words. She answered with her fingers, and they chatted in silence for the rest of the journey.

She soon recognised the part of London where they were heading. It was a place where rich men chose to live to show their status, with broad, tree-lined streets and large detached dwellings standing well back from the road. She’d once arranged the purchase of a house like one of these, and knew that they cost a million.

At last they slowed outside the largest mansion in the street, and Carson turned into the sweeping, curved drive and past the trees that hid the house from passers-by.

‘Normally Mrs Saunders would be here,’ he explained as he opened the front door. ‘She runs everything and looks after Joey when he’s not at school, but at the last moment she needed the day off, which is why I had to take him with me.’

‘Yes, I could tell you weren’t very experienced in looking after him,’ Gina said wryly.

They had stepped into a large hall with polished wooden floors and a broad staircase. The house was pleasant, with tall windows, and through the open doors she could see sunlit rooms. It might have been a lovely place to live, but to Gina’s eyes there was something unwelcoming about it. It was spotless, and everything was of the best. But it wasn’t a home to the two people who lived here, each trapped in his own isolation.

She was beginning to be worried by the looks Joey gave her, and the way he held her hand, as though she was vital to him. She mustn’t be. She could only do her best for him and pass on.

Yet she couldn’t help remembering the way people had come and gone in her own childhood, the feeling that here was someone who understood, only to find them vanished in a week.

Joey was pulling her hand, urging her out towards the garden. She followed him, with Carson bringing up the rear. It was a large, beautiful place, with magnificent lawns and flowerbeds. But Joey had no time for their beauties. He almost dragged Gina to a large pond where fat fish idled around. He pointed each out in turn, and chatted about them with his fingers.

‘He’s very interested in fish,’ Carson said, catching up with them. There was an undertone of desperation in his voice, as though he was making conscientious efforts, but wasn’t sure what came next.

Gina noted the effort, but still blamed him. Joey had been his son for several years, and he ought to be able to cope better than this.

Joey left them for a moment to go around to the far side of the pool and study the water. He was frowning and his concentration was so intense that he looked like a little professor.

‘Why doesn’t Philip Hale like you?’ Carson asked suddenly. ‘It’s more than you told me yesterday, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. He considers me “disabled” and he can’t handle that. Some people can’t cope with anyone out of the ordinary.’ She regarded him levelly.

‘Was that meant for me?’ he demanded.

‘Would it be true?’

‘You evidently think so. You don’t like people who make snap judgements, do you? But today you judged me and found me wanting very quickly. No mitigating circumstances, no “let’s learn all the facts”. Just “off with his head”.’

There was just enough truth in that to make her uncomfortable.

‘Carson, please don’t think I’m not grateful to you for saving my job. It was decent of you, after the things I said to you.’

‘A simple matter of justice,’ he said coolly. ‘Besides, you can be useful to me.’

‘Yes, I thought it might be something like that.’

‘You don’t take any prisoners, do you?’ he said wryly.

‘Well, if there’s a battle, I’m on Joey’s side. I fought it years ago. Don’t be fooled by my appearance. I may look like a little brown mouse, but I’m really very tough.’

‘Little brown mouse?’ he echoed. ‘With that blazing auburn hair?’

She was taken aback. She was used to thinking of her hair as sandy, or at most ‘reddish’; certainly at the dull end of the red spectrum. Nobody had ever suggested before that it was at the glamorous end.

All the way back to the house Joey watched the two of them closely, aware of their tension. Once inside he began to pull on Gina’s hand, urging her to the stairs.

‘Please, go with him,’ Carson said.

She wasn’t sure what to expect from Joey’s room, but the reality made her stop and stare. It wasn’t that the walls were covered with posters-it was the content of the posters that astonished her. Not a footballer in sight.

Everywhere she looked there were whales, penguins, sharks, sea lions, fish, coral, shells. The bookshelves took up the same theme, and beyond them were more shelves of videos.

‘You must know a great deal,’ Gina told Joey.

He nodded.

‘Have you always been interested in marine life?’

She had to spell marine, but then he understood and nodded again.

He showed her around, and she found that he had all that money could buy, including a computer through which he could pursue his interest on the Internet. His father had even provided a credit card with which he could purchase whatever he pleased from an on-line bookshop.

In fact, the room had everything except some sign of warm, adult interest. This child lived in a vacuum, Gina thought with a shiver. On the evidence of his books he was highly intelligent, but he had nobody to share it with.

And then she found something that struck a curious note. A large framed photograph stood by Joey’s bed. It showed a young woman in her early twenties. Her face was heavily made up, but even without that she would have been beautiful. Her rich blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and her mouth was curved provocatively at the camera.

Gina recognised the woman. She was a young actress called Angelica Duvaine who was fast making a name for herself in films. Gina had seen her playing second lead in a recent blockbuster. She had a limited talent but her beauty and glamour were stunning. It was a strange picture to find in the room of such a young child.

Joey saw her looking and beamed with pride.

‘My mother,’ he spelled.

‘But-’ Gina realised she was entering a minefield. A child, cruelly deprived of his own mother, had set up this fantasy to comfort himself. How could she snatch it from him?

‘She’s very pretty,’ Gina agreed.

Joey nodded and pointed to the picture. ‘Eeee-aye-eeee,’ he said.

Gina understood this as She gave me. A fan picture, sent through the post, and the child thought he’d been selected for special favour.

‘She gave it to you?’ she echoed. ‘That was nice of her.’

Joey fought for speech. The result was garbled but Gina understood. She loves me.

‘Yes,’ she said heavily. ‘Of course she does.’

Carson looked in. ‘There’s something to eat downstairs.’