CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Yunho didn't speak. But for a moment Changmin thought he was going to step forward— reach for her in some way—and every nerve in her body was suddenly tense and tingling.

She swallowed, clutching the basket of clothes as if it were a shield. Because if he touched her she didn't know what she would do. How she would react. And the realisation frightened her, sent her mind spinning.

It was as if she was joined to him by some intense, mutual need that she had never thought to experience, and that she couldn't begin to understand.

He hadn't moved a muscle, but all the same she felt— taken. Stamped for ever by some mark of possession.

Then, as if the invisible cord between them had been slashed with a knife, she was just as suddenly free again, her legs shaking under her, her heart thudding against her ribcage.

He said laconically, 'Get your coat. I'll see you on the front drive in five minutes.' And he turned and went, leaving her staring after him.

After she'd left the clothes basket in the kitchen, explained to Carrie where she was going and fetched her jacket from her room, she had an excuse to be breathless when she joined him on the drive.

He was waiting beside the little Peugeot she'd last seen in the car park beside the market.

'You'll have the use of this while you work for me.' He handed her the keys. 'Let's see what you can do.'

'You want me to drive?' Changmin gasped.

'You told me you had a licence. I need to check your general competency if you're going to be driving my daughter.'

'Yes—yes, I see.' She slid behind the wheel, waiting nervously while he took his place beside her. 'It's been a while...'

'Then take your time.'

To her relief, the engine responded immediately, and she moved smoothly away.

'Where exactly are we going?' she asked as she threaded her way through the lanes. She was glad she had to concentrate so hard on what she was doing. It helped divert her attention from Yunho's physical proximity to her in the confined space of the car.

'To Westcombe Park School first, and then into Westcombe itself, where Sohee has her piano lesson. Her teacher lives in Derwent Street.'

'Of course.' Changmin nodded. 'That's just a few doors away from the tea rooms.'

'And probably why Cindy thought she could risk leaving Sohee to fend for herself,' he returned flatly.

'Yes—but there was no real harm done.'

He said drily, 'I wish I could agree.'

There was a brief silence, then he continued. 'May I say, by the way, how much I approve of the transformation?'

Changmin felt her face warm slightly. She said stiltedly, 'I—I have to talk to you about
 that.'

'That has an ominous sound,' he said lightly. 'Don't you like Carrie's choice for you?' 'That's not the point. I—I don't want anyone else buying my clothes.'

'But your own stuff went up in flames,' Yunho pointed out reasonably. 'And I really couldn't allow you to spend the rest of your life in my robe, however beguiling you looked,' he added silkily.

A remark Changmin considered it safer to ignore. 'All the same,' she said stubbornly, 'I wish you hadn't done it. It will take me ages to repay you.'

'Consider it part of the job,' he said dismissively. 'Uniform supplied.'

'This is nothing like a uniform, and you know it.' Changmin swallowed. 'Please let me have the receipts, and I'll pay for the things as and when I can.'

'Please don't sound as if you'll be going round with a begging bowl,' he said caustically. 'I saw the fire officer today, and he confirmed that the cause of the fire was the faulty wiring, so you probably have a claim against your landlord.'

'I doubt if he'll see it that way.'

'He may not have a choice.' Yunho paused. 'And there is, of course, the question of your salary. We haven't really discussed that yet.'

He mentioned a sum that nearly caused her to stall the car.

'But you can't possibly pay me that much,' she protested. 'I'm not even qualified.'

He said slowly, 'It's what I was paying Cindy. And you have a warm heart and a sense of responsibility— both attributes that she signally lacked. I think you're worth it. That's on top of your board and lodging, of course,' he added, almost as an afterthought.

'Oh, this is ridiculous,' she said heatedly.

'I quite agree. We're going to end up in the ditch.'

'Oh, hell.' Changmin hurriedly righted her steering. 'You know what I mean.'

'Yes, I do,' he said slowly. 'And I'm wondering why you have such a low sense of self-esteem.'

She bit her lip until she tasted blood. 'I—wasn't aware I had.'

'Another fib,' he said gently. 'You don't trust me enough to tell me the truth. But I can wait.'

You'll wait a long time, she thought wildly. What would you say, I wonder, if I told you that it was all because of you—and only you? Maybe, on the day I leave for ever...

Westcombe Park School was a big square building in red brick. Lights blazed from the windows, and the road outside was busy with Land Rovers and Jeeps while the drivers— mostly women in Barbours and Puffa jackets— called greetings to each other.

Changmin parked the car neatly and got out, feeling very much an outsider, although she spotted a few girls of her own age who were probably nannies too.

In the distance a bell pealed shrilly, and the children began to emerge from the school building in laughing, chattering groups.

Sohee was one of the last to appear, and Changmin noticed immediately that she was walking on her own, looking down at the ground.

She cupped her hands to . 'Hi,' she called. 'We're over here.'

The child looked up, and the wistful, slightly withdrawn expression vanished like
 magic.

'Changmin.' She hurled herself across the road. 'You're staying. You really are. I wished so hard, and it's come true.'

'Well, I hope you don't regret it.' Changmin returned her hug. 'I can be a real dragon.' 'Can we go home and play another game?' Sohee asked eagerly.

'No, poppet. You have a music lesson, and then your homework to do.' Changmin decided to get into dragon mode right away.

'Daddy—do I have to go to music?' Sohee wheedled.

He pinched her nose gently. 'Yes, my love. Mrs Blake is expecting you.' 'But I want to show Changmim all my toys.'

'There'll be plenty of time for that.' Changmin ushered her into the back of the car and fastened her seat-belt.

'You won't go away?' the child asked anxiously. 'People always go away.'

Changmin felt something twist inside her. 'I'll stay as long as you need me,' she said slowly.

Yunho touched her arm. 'I'd better introduce you to Mrs Franks, Sohee's teacher.'

He took her across to a tall woman who'd been standing just inside the school gate, talking vivaciously to a small group of mothers. As she turned away Yunho intercepted her.

'Mrs Franks, this is Shim Changmin, who will be looking after Sohee for me.'

'Another young woman,' Mrs Franks said with a silvery laugh, raking Changmin with a glance that managed to be inquisitive and dismissive at the same time. 'I do hope for your sake that she's rather more reliable than the last one, Mr Jung.'

Her voice became earnest. 'You see, we do feel at Westcombe Park that a stable home background is so necessary for the well-being of the individuals in our little community.'

'Yes.' There was a touch of bleakness in Yunho's voice. 'I'm aware of that too.' He turned and strode back to the car. But Changmin lingered for a moment.

'Is Sohee settling in at school?' she asked.

'Naturally.' Mrs Franks bridled a little. 'We pride ourselves on making even the most awkward newcomer feel at home. Why do you ask?'

'It's just that she came out on her own,' Changmin said rather lamely. 'And I wondered...' 'Isn't it rather soon to be making judgements?' Another tinkle of laughter. 'Generally children of that age find their own level without needing interference from adults.' 'I didn't mean to interfere,' Changmin said quickly. 'I was just—concerned.'

'And a little over-conscientious, perhaps?' Changmin was given a patronising smile. 'I think you can safely leave Sohee to us during school hours.' Mrs Franks looked over Changmin's shoulder. 'Ah, Mrs Dawson, I hoped I'd see you today. It's about Melanie's extra reading...'

Changmin returned to the car. I probably am worrying for nothing she thought. And yet...

'Shall I come in with you?' Changmin asked Sohee as she parked the car in Derwent Street. 'I don't think she's reached audience standard yet.' Yunho sounded amused. 'We'll go for a stroll while she has her lesson.'

 Mrs Blake, Sohee's piano teacher, was a tall woman with a calm, humorous face, and Changmin liked her immediately.

In return she received an appraising look and a firm handshake.

'I'm glad to have seen the last of your predecessor,' she told Changmin quietly while Sohee was finding her music and climbing onto the piano stool. 'Pretending that she'd be there to pick Sohee up at my gate, and getting the child to lie for her.' She snorted. 'Unforgivable. She deserves her broken bones.'

Changmin would have liked to linger in the cosy house, listening to Sohee's lesson. The realisation that Yunho was waiting for her was a daunting one. She wasn't sure she wanted to go strolling with him. She seemed to be spending altogether too much time in his company as it was. Hands in pockets, she walked quietly at his side down Derwent Street, and out into the main shopping area.

The High Street had been decorated for Christmas, and a popular DJ from a local radio station had switched on the lights the previous weekend.

Changmim had spent a miserable Christmas last year and had anticipated a similarly bleak prospect this year. Instead, she'd be able to see Christmas in the only real way— through the eyes of a child, she realised on a small surge of pleasure.

'At last—the glimmer of a smile,' Yunho remarked. 'You've been looking so serious I thought you wanted another of your little talks with me.'

She flushed. 'A lot of things have happened over the past twenty-four hours. You can hardly expect me to be turning cartwheels.'

'But you don't have to look as if you were about to be led out to execution either. Is the thought of caring for Sohee really so traumatic?'

'No, of course not,' Changmin denied, startled. 'She's a darling.'

'And you haven't found evidence that Carrie is practising voodoo in the coalshed?' A reluctant chuckle escaped her. 'Now you're being absurd.'

'I was afraid of that. In which case, it must be me.' He paused, then said in a very different voice, 'What is it, Changmin? What have I done?'

All the muscles in tightened. She looked straight ahead of her. 'You've been —very kind,' she said stiltedly. 'Perhaps I just don't respond well to— sudden change.'

'But at least this time it's a change for the better—or should be. Unlike some in the past.' He was silent for a moment. 'And you're still grieving for your father?'

She hesitated. 'Yes. I think I grieve most for the fact that I wasn't there. That he died among strangers.'

'That wasn't your fault. And, though you may not believe me, there are worse fates.' 'What could be worse?'

He said slowly, 'To die knowing that someone you've loved does not love you in return. That you've invested your life—your energy—in worthless stock. That's a terrible loneliness.'

She remembered things Carrie had said, and knew he was talking of his own father.

The passage of time hadn't softened the pain, or the anger.

'When I discovered I'd made the same mistake, I cut my losses immediately,' he went on, almost conversationally. 'I knew that even if I had to be alone for the rest of my life it would be worth it.'

'But you're not alone.' A sudden image of Hazel Sinclair imprinted itself on her mind, and was suppressed. 'You—you have Sohee.'

'That,' he said, too gently, 'is not quite the same thing.' He paused. 'And what about you, Changmin? You're not a child. You've been away to university. There must have been at least one significant other in your life. Maybe more.'

'No one—serious,' Changmin hedged. No one at all, she thought.

'You mean those barriers of yours aren't just for me? But surely someone must have tried to get close—to solve the enigma?'

'Perhaps they were perceptive enough to realise there wasn't one. That I'm just—'

'An ordinary girl with no secrets?' he supplied drily. 'That's not perception. That's wilful blindness. And I give you due warning, Shim Changmin—' his voice slowed to a drawl '—that I intend to search you out. To uncover all your secrets—every hidden depth.'

Her whole body seemed to shiver. She stopped dead, turning to stare unseeingly into a shop window festooned with Christmas cheer.

She said in a low voice which vibrated with anger, 'Well, let me warn you in return, Mr Jung. Taking this job does not mean I'll allow any invasion of my privacy. I'm doing it for Sohee—just for Sohee. I will not be used for your amusement.'

'Did I give that impression?' he came back swiftly. 'I'm deadly serious.'

'And so am I.' Changmin swung to face him. 'We are two separate people, Mr Jung, who for a short time have to lead parallel lives. But one of the great things about parallels is that they don't meet. And that's the way I want it. For all your generous salary and beautiful home, I won't accept anything else.'

'I see.' He was quiet for a moment. 'Does this stipulation also preclude the friendship I once offered you?'

'You're my employer,' she said. 'I'm your daughter's temporary nanny. That's it. All of

it.'

'You're certainly extremely vehement about it,' he commented wryly. 'Which makes me wonder exactly which of us you're most keen to convince.' He left that hanging in the air, and glanced at his watch. 'In the interests of parallelism, I'll see you back at Derwent Street in half an hour.'

Parallelism indeed, Changmin thought, glaring at his retreating back. I bet there's no such word.

At least she'd drawn the parameters for the next few weeks, she told herself defiantly.

And from now on she should be in no danger.

But, in that case, why was she suddenly trembling like a leaf? And why was she peering along the busy street, trying to catch a glimpse of Yunho's tall figure walking away from her?

Fool, she thought angrily, and marched off in the opposite direction.

Sohee was in buoyant mood when Changmin collected her.

'I like Mrs Blake,' she announced, dancing to the car where her father waited silently, his face unreadable. 'I wish she was my teacher for everything.'
 'Mrs Franks seems very nice,' Changmin volunteered mendaciously, 'She has pets,' said Sohee. 'And I'm not one.' She climbed into the rear seat. 'Mrs Blake is teaching me a surprise, for Christmas,' she went on gleefully.

'What kind of surprise?' Yunho looked at her, his expression softening.

'If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret any more,' Sohee said severely. 'You'll have to wait and see.'

She chattered happily all the way home. As soon as they arrived, Changmin whisked her up to the nursery to do the small amount of homework the school had set. The child wasn't exactly being stretched by the tasks, Changmin thought, watching how swiftly and almost offhandedly Sohee completed them.

'May I watch television for a bit?' the little girl appealed when she'd finished.

'I don't see why not,' Changmin conceded, although it occurred to her that she hadn't yet noticed a television set. 'Where do you do that?'

'In the other sitting room—the little one. The piano's there too, so I can do my practising as well,' Sohee informed her virtuously.

'Better and better,' Changmin said drily.

The small sitting room was at the back of the house, and was a homelier version of the drawing room, with faded chintzes and a big sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace, which housed a living-flame gas fire.

With Sohee settled raptly in front of a children's programme, Changmin took the opportunity to look through a glass-fronted bookcase. It contained mostly fiction, some of it dating back to the beginning of the century, but there was a wide selection of modern authors too, with the unashamedly popular rubbing shoulders with the literary.

Changmin, who envisaged spending most of her time in the safety of her room, thought gloatingly that this book collection could become her personal gold mine.

There was a complete set of Georgette Heyer novels, most of which she'd already read, but it would be good to renew her acquaintance with such an elegant and accomplished writer. Inside the front cover of Friday's Child a bookplate announced that this book was the property of Jung Minjun.

'My mother,' Yunho said from behind her.

Changmin started so violently the book nearly flew out of her hands. She said breathlessly, 'I was going to ask if I might borrow it—not just take it.'

His brows drew together. 'Changmin, for the time being, this is your home. You don't have to ask permission for every little thing.' He turned to his daughter, his frown deepening. 'What are you watching, Sohee?'

'Only Down Under,' Sohee returned, mentioning a popular soap opera a mite warily. The cool grey eyes rested on Changmin. 'Isn't that slightly out of her age group?' 'Everyone in my class watches it,' Sohee pouted. 'When they talk about it, I don't know what they mean.'

'All the same I'd prefer you watch something more edifying than Australian soap opera.' There was a slight edge to his voice.

'It's just finishing anyway,' Changmin put in as the child's face grew more mutinous.

'Right on time for your piano practice,' she added cheerfully.
 'And my secret.' Fortunately, Sohee was easily deflected from her grievance. 'You and Daddy have got to leave the room,' she ordained grandly.

'I'll call you when supper's ready,' Changmin promised.

As they walked away they heard the first rather wobbly notes of 'Away in a Manger' coming through the door.

Yunho's face relaxed into a grin. 'Her secret is safe with us,' he said softly. 'I'll be the most surprised man in the county, come Christmas Day.'

As he moved away Changmin said, 'Could you spare me a moment?'

He paused. 'What's this?' he enquired sardonically. 'More rules and regulations for my future conduct?'

'To a certain extent.' She made herself meet his gaze squarely. 'I gathered just now you don't approve of Sohee's viewing choices, and, by implication, you're critical of me for allowing it.'

His tone was curt. 'I'd have said that was obvious. Do you blame me?'

'I can understand your reservations.' She paused. 'But Sohee's the new kid on the block. I think she's having problems settling mid-term in a new school. Something as simple as sharing a television programme with her classmates could give her the leverage she needs. Help her to fit in.'

He was frowning again. 'Are you saying she's unhappy at Westcombe Park?'

'I don't know whether it's as cut and dried as that. I suspect she's not particularly challenged by the work.'

'The school has a very good reputation.'

'So had the Clair de Lune.'

His mouth tightened. 'And Miss Sinclair is on the board of governors.'

'Which makes everything perfect, naturally,' she said tautly. 'Please forget that I said anything.'

She was turning away when he put a hand on her arm. 'Wait—please. I'm not dismissing what you say out of hand. But I'm wondering whether it's a little early for you to be making that kind of judgement.'

She smiled without amusement. 'That's what Mrs Franks said, too.'

His brows lifted. He said bleakly, 'You spoke to her— criticised the school—without consulting me first?'

'No,' she said. 'I simply asked if Sohee was all right, and got fobbed off.'

He said glacially, 'She may have thought it was none of your damned business.'

She raised her chin. 'You brought me here because I care—remember? Are you now telling me that you want me to stop?'

'No, of course not,' he said irritably. 'But I didn't expect quite such immediate involvement, perhaps.' His brief laugh was almost explosive. 'Hell, I don't suppose I knew what to expect.'

Changmin said quietly, 'I don't know either, but I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn. Good evening, Mr Jung.'

'Where are you going?'

'Upstairs, to lay the table for our supper.'
 'For Sohee's supper,' he corrected. 'You dine with me, after she's in bed.'

Changmin took a deep breath. 'Is that what Cindy did?' she asked, giving him a measuring look.

'No,' he said. 'But she didn't take me to task over my daughter's well-being either. You asked me to spare you a moment. Now I require the same favour in return. Dinner will be at eight o'clock, but I'll be up to say goodnight to Sohee first.'

There was a silence, then, 'Very well,' Changmin said icily.

'And very wise, too,' he said silkily, and left her inwardly raging.

She'd calmed down, at least on the surface, by the time Sohee appeared in the nursery. Her supper was a savoury pasta dish, with a baked egg custard to follow, and the child ate every scrap.

When the meal was over, Changmin taught her to play clock patience until it was time for the child's bath.

'It's such a waste going to bed when I'm not sleepy,' Sohee sighed as Changmin tucked her in. 'Will you read me a story, please? I'd like the one about Snow White.'

'Are-you sure? It's a bit scary for bedtime.' Changmin fetched Grimms' Fairy Tales from the shelf.

'I like it scary.'Sohee snuggled down, listening, wide- eyed, to the traditional bloodthirsty version of the story, and giving a sigh of contentment when the evil queen met her doom at the end.

'Changmin,' she said, when it was over, 'are all stepmothers wicked?'

'I hope not,' Changmin said ruefully. 'There's a lot of them about these days.' 'Do you think I'll have one?'

Changmin bit her lip. 'That's your father's business not mine, poppet.'

'Do you think Daddy might marry Mummy again?' It was a forlorn little voice.

'Is that what you want?' Changmin asked gently.

'Sometimes.'

'The trouble is that people change,' Changmin said, struggling to find the right words. 'And they don't always want the same things any more.'

'Like Mummy didn't want Daddy and me.'

Changmin groaned inwardly. 'I'm sure that wasn't how she felt,' she said softly. 'I expect it was very hard for her.'

'She's going to come and see me,'Sohee said with drowsy satisfaction. 'She promised the last time she phoned. Then you'll meet her.'

Changmin forced a smile. 'That will be nice.'

'But it's a secret,' the child warned. 'We mustn't tell anyone, or it won't happen.' 'More secrets?' Yunho asked quizzically as he strolled in.

'The biggest one of all,' Sohee assured him, throwing her arms round his neck.

More an unpleasant shock, Changmin thought ruefully. But it won't happen. She's just stringing the child along.

'Are you going to stay and talk to me?' Sohee was asking eagerly.

'No, because it's time you were asleep. I just came to kiss you goodnight.' 'And Changmin,' said Sohee. 'Are you going to kiss her goodnight too?'
 There was a silence. Changmin heard herself swallow, felt a swift flood of warm colour invade her face. Acrossthe bed, she was aware of Yunho watching her, the grey eyes oddly intense.

For one crazy, forbidden moment she let herself wonder how his mouth would feel on hers. She took a step backwards, as if he'd actually reached for her.

And saw his mouth twist as he looked down at his daughter.

'No,' he said. 'I'm not.'

'Why not?'

'Because it isn't her bedtime. At least, not yet,' he added softly. His slow, crooked smile touched Changmin, sending a long, troublous shiver rippling through her body. She wanted to run—to hide somewhere—but she felt rooted to the spot.

Then he bent and kissed Sohee, her cheek gently with a finger as he straightened. 'Sleep well, sweetheart.'

At the door, he turned. 'I'll see you at dinner, Miss Shim,' he said with cool formality.

After he'd gone, there was another silence.

Then, 'I expect he'll kiss you goodnight after dinner,' said Sohee. 'Don't you?'

'Sohee,' Changmin said severely, trying to snatch at her composure. 'You're impossible.' Which, of course, was no real answer at all.