CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘KALIMERA, DORA,’SAIDROULAas she joined her in the lift.
‘You look amazing, Roula. Glowing.’
‘Thank you.’
Dora followed as Roula put the soup in the fridge. ‘I’ve found a new baker’s...do you fancy going—?’
Roula cut off the attempt at friendship. ‘I’d better get this to him.’ She held up the vast coffee mug and made her way in.
‘Hey.’ Galen looked up as she placed it on the desk and got an eyeful of cleavage. ‘Thanks for that.’
‘I made the soup...’
‘Thanks,’ Galen said. ‘And I mean that. I faked it and got some from V’s, and I ended up wearing it...’
It was sort of unspoken that hisyayawas getting worse.
‘I have a meeting at the care home at five—maybe we could take it over then? We can find out if there are any treatment changes before I dive into lockdown tomorrow...’
‘Sure.’
‘Then I’m in Rome next week,’ Galen said. ‘Back Thursday night...’
It must be very,veryhard for him to leave, Roula thought. And, really, what a wonderful grandson Kupia Florakis had.
‘I can visit,’ she said.
‘Would you?’
‘I go there at the weekends anyway. I’ll make sure I go and have my coffee with her next week.’
‘Thank you.’
Roula peered at him. ‘You look dreadful.’
‘Thank you,’ he said again. ‘You don’t.’ He gave her a thin smile. ‘I should never have told you to wear zig-zags that night.’
‘Galen!’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Let’s not talk about personal stuff at work.’
‘Where else, then?’ He shrugged. ‘I just want you to know that I wasn’t trying to keep you down.’
‘I know that...’ She gave him a smile, because it was nice of him to say that. And then she did a dangerous thing. ‘You were hot for me. I got that.’
‘Yes—and it wasn’t convenient in the least.’
‘Well, I’ll be out of your hair soon.’
‘Yes, London’s calling,’ Galen said. ‘Well, they’ve called HR for document checks, at least.’
‘I didn’t think they’d move so fast.’
‘Funny, that,’ Galen said. ‘I was just thinking the same about you.’
And though those moments between them were getting less, they still happened. And if it sounded as if she was counting them—well, in reality she was. Wrapping them up like precious jewels and storing them in the trunk labelled ‘Galen’ in her heart that had been there for ever.
‘You used to practise your English on me...’