However, Mike thought he could sense a new warmth between them, a growing rapport that had not been there before. By unspoken agreement, neither mentioned the unfortunate bedroom scene. They could talk about that later. Mike had touched only briefly on his adventure on the road that morning, turning it into a joke about his un-familiarity with English roads and English drivers. Paula showed a concern for the bump on his head that pleased him and also embarrassed him a little. Now as he looked around at the well-groomed, well-mannered people who wandered over the lush grounds of the old sporting club, Mike decided it was about time he went to work. As though she had read his mind, Paula said, “You go ahead and be a reporter. I’m perfectly happy just tagging along and looking at the people.” “I suppose I should start taking a few notes,” Mike said, “to justify my salary if nothing else.” “Look, there’s Christy,” Paula said. “And her young tennis player.” Following Paula’s gaze, Mike saw Christy Noone and Tim Barrett across an expanse of emerald lawn.
