The Carlswick Affair
Page 7
Chapter 5
Stephanie woke the next morning with her father delivering her a cup of coffee.
“Hey, sleepyhead. Late night?”
Stephanie groaned and sat up, accepting the coffee gratefully. “Went to see a band at the pub,” she replied sleepily, running her hand through her sleep tousled hair.
“Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Max smiled indulgently at his daughter. Max Cooper was a handsome forty-something, with slightly greying dark hair, who had the confident air of a successful man. Rather than his usual business attire, today he was wearing jeans and an open-necked pale blue shirt. He looked very relaxed.
“I’ve come down from London for lunch and I’m told we need some fresh bread. Why don’t you get up and come for a drive with me into the village? Give us a chance to catch up,” he suggested.
Half an hour later, Stephanie and Max drove down the long driveway of Wakefield House and turned into the lane leading into Carlswick. It was a bright, sunny late summer morning, with clear blue skies dotted with the occasional white fluffy cloud. The lane, lined on either side by hedgerows, sloped gently down towards the village.
Stephanie and her father chatted easily. Gone were the days when she felt a slight resentment towards him for abandoning her. Whilst Max had always been part of Stephanie’s life, the distance between England and New Zealand meant that their relationship had developed into more that of a big brother and little sister, than of a parent and child. However, it was obvious that Max was now feeling the responsibility of having his only child, albeit an eighteen-year-old one, living near. Stephanie sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t start trying to ‘parent’ her, just when she hoped to have a more adult relationship with him.
“Let’s park at the top end by the church and walk down to the bakery,” Max suggested. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a stroll through the old village.”
“I’m sure not much has changed in the last hundred years or so since you were a kid, Dad,” Stephanie replied cheekily.
Max feigned hurt feelings by clutching his chest. Stephanie laughed and hooked her arm through his. “You must show me this new café that you are working at,” he said.
They returned to the car a while later, still chatting and laughing, carrying two loaves of warm fresh bread, as the doors of the church swung open and the congregation poured out, organ music heralding their departure.
The church looked as old as the village itself. Nestled on the side of the hill, its austere grey brickwork was augmented by the wildflowers that grew all around it in a riot of colour.
Stephanie felt her father bristle beside her. She glanced at him and followed the line of his narrowed gaze.
There on a trajectory to intercept them was a very upright elderly gentleman with a shock of white hair and at his side a much younger tall, dark-haired man with sunglasses shading his eyes.
“Cooper,” the older man spat disdainfully, coming to a stop in front of them.
“Oh God. The tone of the village has just been lowered,” his companion added in a condescending tone.
“With you still living here, I didn’t realise it could go any lower,” Max retorted, his voice tightly controlled.
The elderly man glared at Max and shook his head. They pushed roughly between Max and Stephanie.
“Who was that, Dad?” Stephanie whispered, her eyes wide as she watched them getting into a silver Mercedes and drive away.
Max’s gaze followed the retreating vehicle, a frown marring his features. “No one that you need to concern yourself with. Come on, let’s get home,” he said in a tone that very definitely signalled the end of the conversation.