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her, although he took to rolling on his side and falling asleep immediately.  They had decided that once the club was doing well, they could consider buying a proper home to live in and raise a child but Vicky wondered how she was ever going to get pregnant if Barrie was too exhausted to want sex.

But then, with the business taking off in such a big way, she was always tired as well. Two massive rooms at one end of the building were set up to hold functions and in the last six months, that side of their empire grew rapidly.  So, as well as seeing to the day to day administration, Vicky and Alex managed to coax more people to consider the club for wedding receptions, parties and business conferences and the place was humming with life for most of the day and night several days of the week.

But even with so much work to keep her occupied and busy, the craving for a child of her own had become intense during the past year.  Having assumed becoming pregnant would be easy, it was difficult to understand why nothing happened for her.  The visits to the doctor, then the tests, were embarrassing and upsetting but discovering she was the one at fault was excruciatingly painful, leaving her feeling like a useless ornament, unable to perform the one function for which her gender was born.  Barrie did his best to be sympathetic at first but she knew he wasn’t particularly concerned.  Children, sadly, were not a priority for him and would even be an inconvenience and unnecessary expense.  He had begun to change the subject whenever she tried to talk about it and her obsession became a hidden hurt as she spent hours pouring over mother and baby magazines in the privacy of her office.  She took to strolling to the parkland surrounding Kensington Palace staring agonisingly at babies in pushchairs as their proud and happy parents or nannies wheeled them around.  Her envy and sadness were overwhelming and she often returned to the club trying desperately to get to her office before anyone saw her face and she could apply more makeup to cover her distress.

Needing someone to turn to and feeling Ruth would understand, even though recently a mother herself, the trip home to Canleigh had been helpful.  Ruth was marvellous and little Stephen was simply gorgeous and it was wonderful being able to help look after him, have cosy cuddles and enjoy the comfort of his little body in her arms but even so, she cried herself to sleep every night, craving for a  child of her own but which she would never have.  Life was really too cruel.

Somehow, Vicky managed to get through the two days of Delia’s trial, leaning on Alex more and more for support.  He had been so good to her, she thought, staring at his photograph on the wall of her office, minutes after that awful journalist advised her what had occurred in Oxford.  He had hardly let her out of his sight since Barrie had left for the trial, and even though she wanted to keep to herself in the office, he popped in frequently on one pretext or another to make sure she was okay and she was eating something.  He had taken her across the road for breakfast yesterday and again today, to a charming little restaurant where the food was good and management and staff were all friends and patrons of the club.  Vicky ate very little but the piping hot cappuccino coffee revived her and she came back to her office feeling just a touch better.

It was just after they got back to the club this morning when she received that devastating call about Delia’s release and was asked where Barrie might take her.  Would Delia return to Canleigh?  Vicky thought about it, trying to push down the real terror that Barrie might bring her back here instead but no, Delia would surely want to return home.   She had nowhere else to go after all … and then there was Demon.  She wouldn’t want to leave him for long again.  No, Vicky persuaded herself.  Delia would return to Canleigh.  Barrie wouldn’t have the audacity or nerve to bring her here.  Why would he?  No, he would probably stay somewhere with her for a night of unbridled passion first and then take her back to Yorkshire.

She sat down, pretending to work but only shuffled papers backwards and forwards on her desk.  The type written words didn’t make sense to her.  Her brain couldn’t take them in.  It was a complete waste of time, as she couldn’t concentrate on anything, being so very frightened of what was going to happen now.  With Barrie’s threat that she might have a little accident and the certain instinct that Delia had killed Richard, she was in real danger if they decided to dispense with her . . .  and there was nothing to stop them.

Vicky’s eyes rested on the handbag on the floor beside her.  She had visited her doctor earlier in the week who prescribed valium for her depression.  There were also two packets of paracetamol in her desk for the terrible headaches, which came over her so frequently nowadays.  It would be so easy.  She only had to open her mouth and force the tablets down with the contents of the vodka bottle and it would be over.  No more humiliation, heartache or worry ever again.  Her hand reached out, picked up the bag, and then dropped it guilty as someone banged loudly on the office door.

“Coffee … and I’ve brought you a cream cake too,” announced Alex, with a wide smile on his handsome face.  He looked at her stricken expression and trembling hands and felt a rushing anger towards Barrie, who was probably the cause.

“What’s happened?” he asked, entering the room and placing the coffee and cream bun on

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