by Kitty Neale
Jenny had been shocked to see the policeman, and bewildered too. He’d said something about an ongoing enquiry, but what had Tina done? If the police were involved it must have been something illegal – probably that was the reason why she’d left so suddenly.
It might also explain why Tina had been so desperate for money that she’d used a form of blackmail to get it, but somehow Jenny had refrained from telling the constable that. She hadn’t told Sue about it either, because, in spite of what Tina had done, she still cared about her and didn’t want to blacken her name. Worried now that Sue might have seen the policeman from her window and come into the hall to ask questions, Jenny scurried upstairs to avoid her.
Back in her flat, she crumpled the piece of paper the policeman had given her before throwing it into the bin. Only moments later the doorbell rang again and Jenny looked out of the window to see Marcos’s car. She grabbed her handbag and ran downstairs.
‘Hello, darling,’ Marcos said as she climbed in, leaning over to kiss her.
Jenny returned the kiss, then said, ‘A policeman has just been round looking for Tina.’
‘The police! Why?’
‘I don’t know, but it probably explains why she left.’
Marcos nodded, saying only, ‘Yes, probably,’ before he started the engine and drove off.
‘I know you feel you should meet Delia,’ Jenny complained, ‘but I’m not looking forward to this.’
‘I had my reasons, Jenny. For one, your mother needs to see that you’re an adult now, and as such she no longer has any influence over you. You know now how much I value my privacy and I don’t want her interfering in our lives, especially when we move into our house.’
‘I don’t want that either, and though my dad insists that she’s changed she’s probably fooled him just like she fooled Robin. In fact, she’ll probably take you in too and you’ll think she’s charming.’
‘I doubt that.’
Jenny wasn’t so sure but, as Marcos said, she was an adult now, ready for Delia’s wiles. She had dressed carefully, her make-up skilfully applied and, yes, Delia would see that she was an adult now. Marcos looked wonderful too, so handsome and Italian, dressed in light grey trousers with a white silk shirt and tie. His suit jacket was hanging on a hook in the back of the car, and though it was a hot day he would probably put it on when they arrived.
‘I don’t want to stay too long anyway, I’ve still got packing to do for our holiday. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?’
‘No, darling. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.’
Surprises, Jenny thought, she was beginning to hate them…but surely a surprise holiday was nothing to worry about?
Marcos wasn’t looking forward to dinner with Jenny’s parents either, but he wanted to test the waters, to see what he was up against. He didn’t want to sell the house, it was perfect, but neither did he want her parents poking around, asking questions, and so one way or another he’d need to find a way to put a stop to it. Her father was already trying to interfere with the wedding plans, but it wouldn’t work; Marcos had already had the forethought to scupper any chance of that.
Edward Lavender had no idea who he was dealing with, Marcos thought, smiling wryly, but if the man continued to get in his way, he’d soon find out. Other women whose husbands had dared to challenge him had become widows, and if her husband became a constant nuisance, Delia Lavender might well join them. It would be simple enough, easily arranged…but of course it might not be necessary, and Marcos had decided to bide his time for now.
Yes, he’d keep up the facade and it might be that he’d find an easier way to put a spoke in the relationship between Jenny and her parents.
‘Nearly there, darling,’ he said, briefly taking his eyes off the road to look at Jenny. ‘You’ll just have to direct me to your parents’ house.’
‘It’s the next turning on the left,’ she said.
Nice, Marcos mused, as he drove into Castle Close, but not a patch on Almond Crescent. It was a bit too close for comfort, but not to worry, Marcos thought confidently. If Edward Lavender continued to interfere, he’d soon find out who he was up against.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Delia was on the telephone to Robin, pleased that he was doing so well at university, but as always, missing him. ‘Yes, Jenny and Marcos will be here soon. Darling, of course I’ll tell her that you wanted to be here.’ They spoke a little longer, but then Delia reluctantly ended the call. She had finished laying the dining room table, using her best cutlery and linen, but still had to fold the napkins. This just done when she heard a car pull into the drive.
‘Edward, they’re here,’ she called. ‘You let them in. I’ll wait in the drawing room.’
‘Yes, your ladyship,’ he said, though he was smiling.
Delia managed a small smile in return. She wanted this to go well, for Edward to continue to believe that she wanted to make amends to Jennifer. Not only that, but as Jennifer was going to be living in Almond Crescent she intended to use that to her advantage, as a way to get into Penelope Grainger’s social circle. At least, she’d decided, it would be some compensation for having Jennifer back in their lives.
There was the murmur of voices, and then they walked in. Delia was momentarily stunned. This wasn’t Jennifer – pale, wishy-washy Jennifer. This was a young woman and a stunning one at that.
‘My dear,’ she said. ‘You look wonderful and I’m so pleased to see you.’
Jennifer’s face was set, no hint of a smile as she made the introduction. ‘This is Marcos, my fiancé.’
‘Marcos, I’m delighted to meet you,’ Delia gushed.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Lavender,’ he said formally.
‘Oh please, call me Delia, and do sit down,’ she invited, ‘both of you.’
‘What can I get you to drink?’ Edward asked. ‘Marcos, there’s wine, red or white, and sherry, or perhaps something stronger?’
‘A glass of red wine would be nice,’ he said as they sat on the sofa.
‘What about you, Jenny?’
‘I’ll just have a soft drink.’
Delia sat down again, searching for something to say. ‘Jennifer, what a lovely ring,’ she said, impressed by the size of the diamond.
‘Marcos chose it and I love it.’
‘Who wouldn’t? I’ve just been speaking to Robin and he asked me to tell you that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here. I’m afraid it was too short notice.’
‘How is he?’
‘Fine, but as he’s in Birmingham we don’t see much of him nowadays. He seems to be enjoying university though, and is sharing a flat with friends.’
‘What is your son studying, Mrs Lavender?’
‘Please. I told you to call me Delia. As for Robin, he’s taking economics.’
‘More wine, Marcos?’ Edward asked.
‘This is a lovely burgundy, but as I’m driving I’ll refrain for now. Perhaps another glass with dinner?’
‘Talking of dinner, if you’ll excuse me,’ Delia said, ‘I’ll just see to the vegetables and then we can eat.’
As Delia stood up, she saw that Marcos did too. He was obviously well bred, a lot older than Jennifer, but as far as Delia was concerned that didn’t matter. What did matter was that Marcos was successful and handsome. She was impressed by him and that meant others would be too, particularly Penelope Grainger. A new social circle beckoned, one that Delia couldn’t wait to get into.
Marcos took a seat at the dinner table, Jenny at his side and Delia opposite him. He knew that both Edward and his wife would want to know more about him and that the questions would begin soon, but he was prepared for them. It was a scorching hot day and he’d have preferred something lighter, but Delia had prepared a traditional Sunday roast.
‘Thank you,’ he said as Edward carved slices of lamb to put on his plate.
‘Edward tells me that your mother was Italian,’ Delia said. ‘I wasn’t sure what to serve you and hop
e this meal is to your taste.’
‘My father was English, and I love both cuisines.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that you lost your parents. How old where you when they died?’
This was just the opening Marcos wanted, a way to prevent further questions along this line. ‘I was twenty-six and, before you ask, they died in a car accident. It was very painful for me, still is, and not something I wish to be reminded of.’
‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry for bringing it up,’ Delia said, looking stricken.
‘Please, don’t upset yourself,’ Marcos said graciously. ’You weren’t to know that any mention of my parents distresses me.’
‘Would you like another glass of wine now?’ Edward asked as he finished carving.
‘Yes, please,’ Marcos said, noting that Delia looked grateful for her husband’s intervention.
She composed herself, then began to pass the vegetables around. ‘Jennifer, I hear you’re going to be married in Scotland.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Your father is so disappointed, and I am too.’
‘We’ve talked about it, Jenny,’ Edward said, ‘and your mother doesn’t think it’s too late to change the arrangements.’
‘Yes, Jennifer, and I’d love to help if you’d prefer a white wedding? Just imagine it, a fairytale dress, a beautiful cake, flowers, a wonderful day that you’d never forget.’
‘Please, Jenny, say yes.’ Edward urged. ‘As I said yesterday, I’d love to walk you down the aisle.’
‘Marcos…’ Jenny said, eyes wide in appeal as she looked at him.
Marcos knew it was safe to stall them, but nevertheless took this opportunity to assert himself. ‘Look, you’re overwhelming Jenny. Leave if for now and we’ll discuss it again when we return from our holiday.’
Edward nodded. ‘Very well, and I suppose that gives us a bit of hope. Now pass the gravy boat around, Delia, and we can tuck in before this gets cold.’
‘This is delicious, Delia,’ Marcos said after a few mouthfuls. ‘I hope you’ve passed your culinary skills on to Jenny.’
Delia didn’t get a chance to answer, Jenny saying, ‘No, she didn’t, but don’t worry, Marcos. I picked up a few things in your restaurant and I can take some lessons.’
‘Jennifer, you used to help me in the kitchen,’ Delia protested.
‘Yes, but all I was fit for was scrubbing the floor or peeling potatoes,’ she said, then threw down her napkin. ‘Excuse me. I…I need the bathroom.’
There was another awkward silence as Jenny left the room, which Edward quickly filled. ‘I think you said the wrong thing, Delia.’
‘I didn’t mean to. I…I’ll go and talk to her, apologise…’
‘No, leave her,’ Marcos ordered as Delia was about to stand up. ‘Jenny needs a little time to calm down.’
‘Oh, this is so difficult,’ she said. ‘I feel that I’m walking on eggshells.’
‘Just think before you speak,’ Edward warned. ‘Now let’s change the subject. We don’t want Jenny to find us talking about her when she returns. Marcos, how’s business?’
‘Fine, thanks. I’ve been busy and now looking forward to taking a break.’
‘Yes, this surprise holiday. Very nice too, but surely you can tell us where you’re going?’
‘Not when there’s the risk of Jenny walking in.’
‘Point taken,’ Edward said, chuckling. ‘Maybe we should think about a holiday, Delia. We haven’t been away for years.’
Delia had been picking at her food and now laid down her cutlery. ‘Yes, it might be nice.’
‘Tell me, Marcos,’ Edward asked, ‘how did you get into the car business?’
Marcos had his story ready. ‘My father had a garage, and as his only child he left it to me. I expanded it, took on my first dealership, and then added others.’
‘The restaurant is a bit of a departure from that.’
‘Yes, but it’s turned out to be a good investment.’
‘Do you specialise in Italian food?’ Delia asked.
‘I do, and I have a very good Italian chef.’
Jenny came back into the room again and took her seat, but made no attempt to finish her dinner. It was an awkward moment, but her father once again covered it. ‘I like your hairstyle, Jenny.’
‘Thanks. The girl who lives downstairs cuts it for me.’
‘She…she does it beautifully,’ Delia said hesitantly. When there was just a curt nod from Jenny in response, she rose to her feet. ‘As everyone seems to have finished, I’ll clear the plates.’
Edward stood to help and they both left the room. Once they were alone, Marcos turned to Jenny and said, ‘Are you all right, darling?’
‘Yes, and I’m sorry for behaving like that.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’
‘She does seem different, but I just can’t forget the past. I arrived with my back up, and it didn’t take much to make me flip.’
‘I’m not sure that leopards change their spots and, until you’re sure of her, I suggest you take things very slowly.’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll do that.’
Marcos had found it easy to put doubt in Jenny’s mind about Delia, but her father was another matter. Marcos wasn’t worried, however, he was sure that he’d find a way to come between them. He’d win. He always did.
Chapter Thirty
Jenny had been glad to leave after dinner. She’d been away from Delia for over two years, but time and distance hadn’t softened her memories, and seeing her again had brought them back to the surface. When saying goodbye, Delia had put her arms around her and whispered what had sounded like a heartfelt apology, one that Jenny doubted she could trust. Marcos had warned her to take things slowly and she intended to do just that.
It was now Monday morning and Jenny was thankful that this holiday had served as an excuse to avoid making any firm arrangements for a return visit. Marcos had a few things to sort out before they could leave, but he was picking her up at twelve, so when the doorbell rang a few minutes before midday, she ran downstairs to throw open the street door.
‘I’m ready,’ she called. ‘I just need to fetch my case.’
‘I’ll carry it down,’ Marcos said, kissing her on the cheek.
Upstairs in the flat, Jenny pointed to her case. ‘I wasn’t sure if one will be enough.’
Marcos simply smiled as he picked it up and for a moment Jenny was exasperated. He didn’t seem to understand that, with no idea where they were going or for how long, deciding what to pack had been a nightmare. She followed him out and locked the door, her face downcast as Marcos stowed her luggage and they climbed into the car.
He turned to look at her, saying softly, ‘Jenny, there’s no need to worry about small things, clothes and such. I have everything in hand, so just relax and enjoy the journey.’
His expression was so appealing that Jenny found it impossible to resist. ‘All right, I’ll try, but after what has happened lately I’m not really keen on surprises.’
He leaned across, kissed her, then put on his sunglasses and started the engine. ‘In that case, we’ll turn the journey into a game. There’ll be clues on the way, and if you can work out our destination I promise that when we stop for the night, I’ll tell you why we’re going there.’
‘I already know that. We’re going on holiday.’
Before driving off, Marcos said, ‘It could be more than a holiday, darling.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t spoil the game. Work out the destination first.’
Marcos wouldn’t be drawn any further and, given no other choice, Jenny began to enjoy the game as they picked up the A1. She soon worked out that they were going north, but as Marcos had mentioned stopping overnight she didn’t make any suggestions until far-flung places began to appear on signposts.
‘Leicester,’ she suggested.
‘No, try again.’
‘Derby then?’
‘
No, darling, not there.’
‘I’ve got it,’ Jenny said some time later, ‘Robin Hood. Sherwood Forest. We’re going to Nottingham.’
‘That wouldn’t involve an overnight stop.’
Stumped for now, Jenny’s eyelids began to droop and she fell into a light doze. The rumble of the tyres on the road became distant, and when she opened her eyes again it was to see another destination.
‘Sheffield?’ she asked sleepily.
‘So you’re awake, but I’m afraid you’re wrong again. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a break so we’ll stop soon.’
‘I’m thirsty, so yes please,’ Jenny said, surprised to find they’d been on the road for over three hours. ‘Where are we?’
‘Close to one of your suggestions, Nottingham,’ Marcos said, turning off the road and pulling up outside a village café shortly after.
Jenny was glad to get out of the car and her first call was to the toilets. After that she was soon sipping a Coke while they waited for their sandwiches to arrive.
‘It’s nice here,’ she said. ‘The countryside is so pretty.’
‘Not as pretty as you,’ Marcos said.
She smiled. ‘Thank you. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?’
‘No, the game is still on.’
Jenny sighed. She had no idea where to suggest next, but surely the next stretch of their journey would reveal the final clue?
Marcos bit into his sandwich. He hadn’t wanted to reveal where they were going before now, worried that if he told Jenny she would mention it to her father at dinner yesterday and give the game away. Of course it was perfectly safe now and he could have told Jenny when they set out earlier, but after the pressure her parents had put her under he wasn’t exactly confident that this would work. He’d decided to wait, to turn the journey into a game, hoping that at some point he’d find the perfect moment.