By Charlotte Lamb
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He broke out. ' CHAPTER THREE THE silence stretched between them like taut thread. Marisa had no idea what to say to him. She stared at her own hands. They were pale and cold, the fine blue veins at the wrist standing out under the smooth skin. ' He sounded almost pleading, his voice husky. He was staring at her hands, too, seeing the way they trembled, the betraying tremor running through the slender ringers. ' 'That note! It told me nothing, nothing at all. ' 'They made sense to me,' said Marisa, clench¬ing her hands into the sheet.
For the last three years of their life they had settled at Blackheath, but she had always had the feeling that they might sell their house and move again any moment. They liked the Heath. They had a dog by then, the first pet they had ever owned, and they took it for walks across the Heath twice a day. Marisa had no longer lived with them; she had had a bedsitting-room in Camden Town. She visited them from time to time, but her parents had somehow never been close to her. They were too involved with themselves.
How was she going to bear it? 'You can't,' said Gabriel in a harsh voice. 'The press are crawling about all over the place like ants. ' She was shocked into silence. Their eyes met. ' she managed to ask drily. ' His mouth twisted. Cyni¬cism darkened his features. 'There was a reporter standing around in the police station when I walked in—he heard me talking to the desk serg¬eant. I practically had to knock him down to get away from him. ' The doctor turned, his case in his hand. 'I'm afraid that's true, Mrs.