Forgotten Fiancee

by Lucy Gordon

  Chapter Nine

  After love came rest. Sarah lay wrapped in Justin’s arms, her head against his chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart. She was totally and utterly happy. In that other life she’d lain against him, trying to believe he shared her feelings but secretly knowing his mind was elsewhere.

  Now a dozen little signs told her that his spirit was still with hers—the firm clasp of his arms about her body, the soft caress of his fingers on her hair, the touch of his lips on her forehead. She looked up and found him watching her.

  “You seemed so far away,” he whispered. “I was afraid you’d forgotten me.”

  Where had it come from, this sensitivity to her slightest moods from a man who’d once noticed nothing?

  “I’ll never forget you, my love,” she said softly. “Never, as long as I live.”

  He yawned. “I can’t believe it’s dawn already.”

  “It isn’t,” she said, snuggling against him. “Not for hours yet.”

  “Then what’s that light in the sky?”

  “Mmm?” She opened her eyes and looked where he was pointing. A light could clearly be seen through the gap in the curtains.

  “It’s only two in the morning,” Justin said, consulting his watch. “Hell! What is that?”

  “It’s coming from across the green,” Sarah said as she pulled back the curtains. “Justin, it’s the hall. It’s on fire!”

  With an oath he leaped out of bed and pulled on his jeans. Sarah dashed for the phone to call the fire brigade. Justin reached the bottom of the stairs just as she set down the receiver. “All the local fire engines are out on calls,” she said desperately. “They’re going to send one from the next station, but it’ll take a while to get here.”

  Justin swore. “Yes, of course. They’ve thought of everything.”

  “What’s up?” Uncle Nick appeared on the landing.

  “Someone’s fired the hall and taken great care to keep the fire services occupied,” Justin said.

  Sarah looked aghast. “You don’t mean—”

  “I’ll wager anything you like that those calls turn out to be hoaxes,” Justin said bitterly. “It’s been fixed so the fire services can’t get here in time.”

  “It’s not just the hall,” Nick said. “This heat wave has made it like a tinderbox out there. One spark will send the whole village up.”

  “Surely they’ll see it,” Sarah cried frantically, looking out the window. “We did.”

  “We’re closest,” Nick pointed out. “And the other near houses have bedroom windows that face the other way.”

  “Then we’ll have to do something ourselves,” Justin said. “Sarah, how many buckets have you got in the shop?”

  “We’ve just had a new delivery. Why?”

  “Nick, get them out to the duck pond.”

  “You want me to start calling people?” Sarah asked.

  “No time, I’ve got a quicker way.” Justin raced out of the door and across the green. Smoke was billowing from the hall, and it hit him like a blanket. He covered his mouth and nose and made it to the door of the bell tower. There was no time to call on the vicar for the key. Justin went back a few steps and hurled himself at the door. It shuddered under the impact but held.. Again. This time there was the sound of rotten wood splintering off rusty hinges. One more time, and the door gave way. He was in the bell tower, fighting not to breathe in smoke, groping his way to the rope. He found it, unwound it from the hook and pulled hard.

  From above his head came a deep, melancholy boom. Justin tugged harder, and the boom became a clang. That should get them out of their beds! Again and again he yanked, praying that the frail timbers would hold and not send Great Gavin crashing down on him.

  At last something was happening. All over the village lights came on, front doors opened and people poured out, summoned by the din. Justin’s back and arms ached, his lungs were burning, his eyes were closed against the smoke. In a desperate trance he pulled and pulled while overhead Gavin bawled and bellowed exultantly, crying that his time had come again.

  At last Justin heard the shouts on the green. He released the rope and staggered against the wall. He was choking, and he knew he must get out soon, but he’d lost all sense of direction. He began to feel his way along the wall, but he seemed to be going around and around, getting nowhere. He was seized with a terrible fear of dying now that he’d discovered a purpose to life.

  The next moment he felt hands take hold of him.

  “Come on.” That was a man’s voice in his ear. “Push him my way, Ted.”

  Two men guided him out into the blessedly fresh air. They turned out to be Ted. and Colly, who’d seen the situation and come in after him. Justin heard his name called as the crowd saw him.

  Nick was there, handing out buckets. “We’ve got to use the water from the duck pond,” Justin said, choking. “We can’t wait for fire engines. Form a line from the pond to the hall. Those of you who live nearest, go home, fix up your garden hoses and pray they’re long enough.”

  Nobody questioned his right to give orders. Men and women scattered. Sarah appeared, dragging one end of a hose that was spouting water. “It’s running from the kitchen,” she gasped.

  “Sarah, what about Nicky?”

  “The Graingers have him,” she shouted. “They’ve opened up their house to everyone’s babies so that the parents can come here. Justin, tell me what to do.”

  “Aim your hose through that window, but don’t stand any closer than you have to.”

  At that moment there was an explosion from inside the hall. The roof, which was mostly wood, disintegrated before their eyes. Gavin was still swinging from the force Justin had applied, his melancholy tones echoing desolately over the destruction below. A cry went up from the crowd.

  “Don’t think of that,” Justin yelled, his face livid in the glow from the fire. “We’ve got to stop it from spreading.”

  Men and women were dragging hoses onto the green. A line had formed from the pond, and buckets were being passed hand to hand. A group of children had come to enjoy the excitement.

  “Get back,” Justin roared at them, but they only scattered and returned.

  “All right, you lot, move.”

  Justin stared in the direction of the new voice, full of authority. It was Joker.

  “Stop mucking about,” Joker yelled. “Start being useful. Make a line at the top of the bucket queue. Grab the empty buckets and get back to the pond with them as fast as you can. Get to it!”

  The youngsters ran to obey him, and in a few minutes they’d perfected the rhythm. Full buckets were passed along the line to Colly, at the head. As soon as he’d tossed the water into the flames the bucket was grabbed out of his hand by a child who raced away, leaving Colly free to snatch up the next bucket. Joker worked harder than anyone. Just once he stopped, to steal a hopeful glance at Justin, who gave him a brief nod of approval.

  After a while Colly flagged, and Justin took his place at the head of the line. He didn’t know how long he was there, working blindly against an enemy that seemed unbeatable, but at last they all heard the welcome sound of a bell, and the next moment a fire engine appeared and drove onto the green. The villagers scattered to make way for the figures who leaped out, running with huge hoses toward the inferno.

  “Are they in time?” Uncle Nick asked.

  “Not to save the hall,” Colly told him. “But to save the village—thanks to Justin.”

  There was a rumble of agreement, but it was drowned by an earsplitting sound from above. The timbers that supported Great Gavin had finally given way. The huge bell tore itself loose from the moorings that had held for six hundred years and plunged fifty feet, to land with a crash that rocked the ground.

  In the early dawn they surveyed the wreckage. Two of the walls, made of the original gray stone, were still standing. But the roof had gone, the brickwork had fared badly, and the tower had disintegrated.

  When the firefighters
had time to sit down with a well-deserved cup of tea, Justin talked to them and discovered it was as he’d suspected. The call that had detained them had turned out to be a hoax. “And not just us,” the chief said angrily. “There were at least three others, or you’d have had someone sooner.”

  Miss Timmins began to cry. “They’ve won, then,” she sobbed.

  “They?” the chief asked. “You mean you know who’s responsible?”

  “We know,” Justin said grimly. “But I doubt if you’ll ever prove it.”

  Colly clapped Justin on the shoulder. “After all you did for us, lad,” he said. “Not just tonight, but at the meeting. It’s heartbreaking to have it fail.”

  “Oh, no!” Justin said firmly. “The things I do don’t fail.”

  “But there’s nothing else to be done,” Colly protested.

  “There’s nothing else you can do,” Justin declared with a touch of the old arrogance. “But I can!”

  He returned home to have a shower and a quick breakfast. “Will you drive me to the railway station?” he asked Sarah. “I’m going to London for a few days. There are things to do that can’t be done from here.”

  “White knight?” she asked.

  He grinned. “I’m keeping it as a surprise. You can think the worst of me in the meantime.”

  “Will I ever be allowed to forget that?”

  “When we’re old and gray.”

  He didn’t elaborate, and it was a silent journey, but as they waited for his train Justin suddenly said, “Sarah, will you marry me?”

  “Oh, Justin!” Her face was radiant. But the eager acceptance died on her lips. She longed to marry him, but how could she say yes until there could be complete honesty between them? There were so many things he must know first.

  “What is it?” he asked anxiously. “Don’t you love me? Is that it?”

  “I love you with all my heart,” she said passionately.

  “Then marry me now. I want you to be my wife, and Nicky to be my son. I couldn’t love him more if he were my own. I know I’ll never quite displace your first love. A corner of your heart will always belong to him, and I guess I’ll just have to try to accept that. But there’s a place for me, isn’t there? Not just in your heart, but in your life? Hell, there’s the train.”

  He gave her a fierce kiss, and there was no time to say more. Sarah drove thoughtfully to Haven. Despite her happiness she could feel storm clouds coming. Matters weren’t as simple as Justin thought, and who could know how everything would turn out?

  Uncle Nick had no doubts.’ “Tell him everything,” he said at once. “You should have done it before this.”

  “I can’t do that,” Sarah insisted. “It’s got to come from inside him. He’s got to remember me because he wants to.”

  “And suppose he never remembers?” Uncle Nick asked gently.

  She looked away. It was too terrible to contemplate.

  Justin was gone a week. By the second day there was no trace of D and S. The villagers watched, pleased but puzzled, as the company’s signs were dismantled, only to be replaced a few hours later by others saying Greenfield Estates. It seemed that the heart of the village had merely passed from one owner to another, but at least the name was reassuring.

  More reassurance came in the form of Jack Redham, an employee of Greenfield, who was in charge of the site. He was a young man with a friendly manner, happy to pass on what little knowledge he had.

  “There was a heck of a rumpus when that hall burned down,” he confided. “Somebody got moving very fast and had the preservation order slapped back on, insisting that the hall be rebuilt. D and S gave in. They’ve got enough on their hands with the police investigation. I reckon they were glad to sell to Greenfield for the best price they could get. They made a loss, though.”

  “But what are you going to do with it?” Miss Timmins demanded. “Not another shopping complex?”

  “Don’t see how we can if we’re rebuilding the hall,” Jack pointed out. “No, it’s going to stay as it is, for the use of the village. But it’s not going to be given to the village. The boss vetoed that idea. He said there’d be nothing to stop the council trying to sell it again.”

  There was a rumble of agreement, and several glances were cast at Everard, who pretended not to see them.

  “Greenfield will be the owner,” Jack continued, “but it’s setting up a committee, with several villagers sitting on it, to help make the decisions.”

  “Very proper,” Councillor Norton declared. “I shall be happy to offer my services. You’ll be needing a man of my experience.”

  Jack asked his name politely, but when he heard it he shook his head. “Sorry, sir, you’re not on my list.”

  “List?” Norton echoed in outrage. “What list?”

  “I’ve been given a list of people I’m to approach.” He consulted a paper. “Miss Timmins, Mr. Nick Mottson, the vicar—”

  There were delighted smiles, except from Norton, who sniffed and declared, “I daresay you’ll ask that upstart Hallwood. He’s a newcomer here, but he seems to think he can butt into everything.”

  “Oh, no, sir,” Jack said at once. “Mr. Hallwood said his name mustn’t be mentioned—” He stopped and clapped a hand over his mouth.

  “Does Mr. Hallwood, by any chance, have anything to do with Greenfield Estates?” Miss Timmins asked.

  “I wouldn’t know, madam, I’m sure,” Jack said, wooden-faced.

  Nick hurried to Sarah with the news. “It’s Justin, isn’t it?” he said. “It has to be.”

  She nodded. “I used to hate his other life,” she said thoughtfully. “London, big business, big money, crowds and hurry. But I have to admit it’s made this possible. If Justin didn’t have all that behind him, he couldn’t have saved us. If only—” She broke off because it was hard to put her thoughts into words. Justin had told her little more than the others, and she was puzzled at his secrecy.

  She looked in on Nicky, who was fast asleep, clutching Ger. Justin’s gift was his favorite toy and wasn’t allowed to leave him, night or day. Her own little bear sat by her bed, reminding her of the giver. She rubbed her cheek against it, missing Justin desperately.

  He walked in one morning while she was stacking boxes. Nicky saw him first and shouted a greeting. The next moment Justin scooped the child up with one arm and embraced Sarah with the other.

  In a few minutes customers began to crowd the little shop. The news had gotten around, and everyone wanted to see him with their own eyes and reassure themselves that he was really back. A series of pointed and none too subtle questions established that he was here to stay, and after that the mood became festive.

  Not everyone regarded Justin with approval. To Everard Norton he was the man who’d destroyed a grand vision and given him a very awkward meeting with the Fraud Squad. To Imelda Drew he was the man who’d driven her darling son away. He was also an upstart, the owner of new, and therefore vulgar, money, who’d interfered in her schemes. And Justin soon discovered another unexpected grudge.

  He and Sarah rode often these days. Their favorite ride lay across the rightof-way that ran through Merton Farm and out into the countryside beyond. But one morning they found the path barred to them. Will Merton regarded their exasperation with sour pleasure.

  “If you want to go through, you gotta pay,” he snapped.

  “Why should we?” Sarah demanded. “It’s a rightof-way.”

  “Gotta protect my crops.”

  “We’ve never damaged your crops, and you know it,” Justin said. “What’s this really about?”

  “I’ve got a right to make a living. Can’t get cash one way, gotta make it another. They was gonna pay me good money, till you come along.”

  Light dawned. “You were hoping for something from D and S?” Justin asked.

  “They was gonna buy the farm,” Will snapped. “Place is no good to me. Who wants it now? If you want to go through, pay up.”

  Justin handed over so
me cash and rode on thoughtfully.

  “Of course they’d have needed this place, too,” he mused. “I wonder why they didn’t buy it to start with.”

  Up ahead they could see Merton’s combine harvester being made ready for the harvest in a couple of weeks. Hal was working on it, not too happily. He looked up and waved as they approached.

  “Been having your ears bent by old Misery Guts?” he asked. “It’s all his own fault, you know. D and S tried to buy the farm in the first place, and he held out for a better price. He reckoned they’d have to meet him in the end. Only then the sale fell through, and he’s left wishing he’d taken the money when he could.”

  “So that’s what it’s all about,” Justin said.

  “Yes. Like I told you before, he’s a stingy old soand-so. Won’t take proper care of his machinery. This thing’s on its last legs, but he tells me to get it going. I’m cheaper than a proper mechanic, aren’t I? Okay, stand clear, and let’s see how I’m doing.”

  They backed off while he got into the cabin and started the machine. It came to noisy life but didn’t move. After peering out of the cabin, trying to see the problem, Hal jumped down and went to have a closer look.

  At that moment the machine made an explosive sound and lurched forward. Sarah screamed a warning as one of the blades swung toward Hal. He just managed to jump aside and avoid being killed, but the wicked-looking blade slashed at his arm, and suddenly there was blood everywhere.

  “Call an ambulance,” Justin yelled at Sarah, leaping from his horse. He knelt beside the groaning man while Sarah spurred her horse to the house.

  Will Merton’s reaction to his employee’s accident was all that might have been expected of him. “Clumsy idiot!” he raged. “That’s an expensive piece of machinery.”

  “If we don’t get an ambulance here soon Hal may lose his arm,” Sarah cried angrily. “Where’s the telephone?”