“Maybe now there’s a chance of love with someone who isn’t like that.”
Now. He must mean because he’s fallen in love with Lucinda, Vicky thought miserably. For she knew Lucinda was wealthy in her own right and therefore wouldn’t be interested in Marcus solely for his money.
“I…what was that?” he asked, jumping up to look out of the window. She too stood up and tried to see over his shoulder, watching wide-eyed.
“What is it, Marcus?”
“Shhh. A car,” he whispered. “It’s just drawn up outside.”
Craning her neck she saw a pale green Fiesta which had just parked on her drive. Then she realised who it was.
“But Marcus, that’s…”
Chapter Ten
Vicky couldn’t understand it all.
“Marcus, it looks like Jan’s car. But it can’t be. She thinks I’m in York. Oh, Marcus, you don’t think we’ve been seen and she knows we’re here?”
“I shouldn’t think so. Who’s that with her? Isn’t it Keith Manning, the estate agent?”
“Yes, it is. He’s her boyfriend. They must know I’m here. Perhaps there’s a problem at Lovelink.”
She started to descend the stairs but immediately Marcus caught at her arm, preventing her.
“No, Vicky, don’t go down. Look more closely. Do you expect your employee to wear overalls to work?”
“No…what do you mean?”
She looked at them again and saw that Marcus was right. Both Jan and Keith were wearing brown overalls. But Jan should be at the office as Lovelink was open for business as usual. What was going on?
“Wait here, Vicky. I believe my hunch is paying off. I think you’re just witnessing the arrival of your tormentors. I’m going outside.”
“Be careful. Don’t do anything dangerous.”
“I won’t. Just sit tight and keep watch.” He went quickly but quietly down the stairs, carrying his camcorder with him.
Her mind reeled as she tried to take in what this all meant. Jan was the conspirator? Jan, her friend. Someone she’d trusted, liked, thought she’d known. Vicky doubted if she’d have believed it all had she not witnessed it herself. Slowly pieces of the puzzle were slotting together. She thought back and realised Jan had known whenever she was going out and the cottage would be empty. Had some deep, forgotten instinct kept her from wholly trusting Jan? Had that been why she’d never told her about her family, Peter, Gillian?
She turned her attention back to Keith and Jan as the scene unfolded in her garden. She felt as if she was watching some detective programme on the television. Except that this was real and it was all happening to her.
She could see Marcus now. Her stomach tightened with fear for his safety. If anything happened to him, she’d never be able to live with herself. But then she watched as he managed to sneak behind them and she thought that as long as he did nothing to attract their attention he was well hidden from their view, crouched down behind a low hedge.
Keith and Jan walked around the car to the boot and opened it. They each pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and were now carrying aerosol cans. Marcus was following slowly behind them, filming every moment. Then they moved further out of sight behind the cottage and Vicky ran silently into her bedroom for a better view.
But it was hopeless. Now she couldn’t see them at all. What was going on? She longed to go down and find out but Marcus had warned her not to.
It seemed like forever before she heard Jan’s laugh and then watched as they came back into view, jumped into the Fiesta and drove speedily away. Only then did she feel it was safe enough to venture down the stairs. All she wanted was to be with Marcus and check he was all right. As she opened the back door, she saw it immediately.
“Oh no. How could they?” Tears splashed down her cheeks as she read the crude message sprayed across the white walls of her cottage in bright, red paint. Still wet, the paint ran like thin, bloody fingers.
“GO HOME, BITCH, OR THE NEXT WREATH WILL BE FOR YOU.”
“Vicky, don’t look. I’ll paint over it later. Don’t upset yourself; they’re not worth it.”
Marcus was beside her now, cradling her in his arms.
“But…I thought she was a friend,” she sobbed against his chest.
She could understand Keith doing something like this—they’d never got on—but not Jan. Marcus stroked her hair and then led her back into the cottage where she collapsed on to a kitchen chair, feeling emotionally drained. Discovering who was behind it all had brought her no comfort.
“They didn’t see you, then?” she said.
“No, I was hidden for most of the time and they were so engrossed in their artwork they didn’t realise they were being filmed.”
“How could she do it?” Vicky asked, pushing a hand through her hair.
“She wasn’t a real friend, Vicky. True friends don’t do things like that.”
What was it about her that made people act so treacherously towards her? First Gillian and now Jan. If she hadn’t had Marcus and Caroline’s friendship to rely on she didn’t think she’d ever be able to trust her own judgment again as long as she lived.
“Know the old saying? With friends like these…”
“Who needs enemies?” He nodded. “Well, you can count on Caro and me being your true pals. If nothing else.”
“So you had suspected Keith and Jan earlier?” she asked, as they made their way into the lounge where she kept her television and video cassette player.
“Yes. Before I met you, Jan told me a whole load of things about you. How you were ruthless, penny pinching and out to bleed Brookleigh and its inhabitants dry. How you were a tyrant. I believed her until I met you.”
“Is that what you meant when you told me you didn’t believe in gossip?”
He nodded as he took the video cassette out of the camcorder, put it into an adaptor and then into the video.
“You were nothing like she’d described and warning bells began to clang then. Especially when you’d been so conscientious over the problem with Alan Jeffreys. That was the act of someone who cared, not the callous, business woman she’d had me believe you were. I thought she was just being bitchy until last night and then all the pieces began to fall into place. But I needed plenty of solid evidence before I could tell you. I know you thought a lot of her.”
“I did,” Vicky said, coldly.
Marcus rewound the cassette and then they both watched the images on the television screen of Jan and Keith walking over to the far end of the cottage and then spraying the message on the wall. Vicky clearly heard Jan say, “That should get rid of her now. She’s scared to death already. Wait ‘til she comes home from holiday and sees this little lot.” Her laugh was cold and bitter.
Was this the real Jan? Why had she done it?
The video came to an abrupt end and Marcus unloaded the machine.
“I’ll have some copies made of this and then we’ll hammer them. Do you want to call the police?”
While Vicky had been watching the film she’d had the seed of an idea start to form in her mind. The police may well have to be involved but there was something she wanted to do first.
“No, not yet. Make some copies please but could we go into Lovelink this afternoon and confront them both? I want to see their faces when we tell them we’ve discovered their nasty deeds.”
“Okay. As long as it won’t be too upsetting for you.”
“No, I’ve been upset for too long already. I want them to be on the receiving end for a change.”
Marcus stayed with her for the rest of the day. She doubted if she’d have been able to cope had it not been for his calmness. It wasn’t every day she discovered that someone hated her so determinedly. He’d listened to her, comforted her, prepared a lunch that she’d only been able to pick at but most importantly he’d been th
ere for her.
Later that afternoon, Marcus and Vicky drove to Lovelink. They waited in the Mercedes until they saw Keith leave the estate agency and head for the Lovelink office to collect Jan at the end of the working day as usual.
Surprise and timing were the keys to everything if their plan was to succeed. Vicky’s heart was thumping as they entered the office. This wasn’t going to be very pleasant.
“Vicky, what are you doing here?” Jan asked, plainly disturbed by the sight of Vicky and Marcus showing up so unexpectedly.
“I need to see you and Keith urgently,” she said, watching as the colour drained out of Jan’s face and as Keith shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“Er…what about, Vicky?”
“Oh, I think you know what about, Jan. Where shall I start? Bogus messages, wreaths, the makings of a fire at my home, an obscene message painted on the walls of my cottage today.”
“Hey, hold on a minute. You can’t come in here with wild accusations like that.” It was Keith.
The moment he spoke, Marcus shot across the room, grabbing his jacket lapels. Vicky remembered that it must have been Keith who’d thumped Marcus last night, cutting his lip. She froze wondering if Marcus might seek revenge. Instead, he stared menacingly into Keith’s eyes and said, slowly, “Oh, Vicky can, Keith.”
He looked petrified and his sigh of relief was almost audible when Marcus released him, although he continued to eye Keith with contempt.
“Have you found any evidence to back up your claims?” Keith asked, nervously, shuffling closer behind Jan’s chair.
“How about this for a start?” Marcus said, holding up a video cassette.
Jan looked warily at the video in his hand.
“You can have a copy if you like. We’ve got lots. We’ve even got one addressed to the Churchton police ready to post. The superintendent there is a personal friend of mine.”
“What’s on it?”
“Oh, only a little film of you and Keith spraying an obscene message on Vicky’s cottage walls, earlier today. What with that, the florist’s evidence and Alan Jeffreys’ statement.”
“I told you we didn’t pay him enough,” Jan screamed at Keith. “I knew the toad wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.”
Keith ignored her and turning to Vicky asked, “What are you going to do?”
“Naturally Jan is sacked. I want the campaign to stop right now and I want you both to get out of Brookleigh.”
“I’m not leaving Brookleigh. What about my estate agency?” Keith said.
“You should have thought of that before you started this. Leave or we go to the police with the evidence.”
Jan looked at Keith. “There’s no choice. We’ve no chance of making it with police records.”
“Still ambitious, aren’t you?” Keith sneered, turning on her. “If only I hadn’t listened to you in the first place.”
“Right—if you’d like to get out and continue your row elsewhere, Vicky and I would appreciate it. We’ve something even more pressing to attend to,” Marcus said. “But remember, we’re not bluffing. One false move and we go to the police.” His voice was cold and stern, allowing no room for argument.
They exchanged glances and then Jan stood up and hurried out of the office with Keith following hot on her high heels.
After the door had closed, Marcus walked over to Vicky. He scooped her into his arms and lifting her off the ground, said, “You were brilliant. I’ve never seen anyone so completely in control of a situation.”
“Oh, you weren’t so bad yourself. Thank you, Marcus…for everything. Do you think they’ll leave Brookleigh? Keith’s not very keen.”
“Definitely. What choice have they got?”
She breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“What do you think their motive was?”
“Jan’s very ambitious. Something she said to me when she was talking about you that day. She knew how well Lovelink was doing already. Could see the potential and wanted the business for herself but couldn’t afford to buy it. So she obviously thought that if she could drive you away she could buy it cheaply and then go on to make her fortune.”
“Ambition. It’s nearly a dirty word when said in conjunction with her name.”
Marcus smiled. Although she was now back on the ground again, he still had his arms around her and she was savoring every moment.
“I suppose the dark haired man who ordered the wreath was Keith,” she said, slotting the last pieces of the puzzle together.
Marcus nodded.
“However the dark haired man who ordered the white roses for you was definitely me. And if any man, dark haired or otherwise, ever sends you flowers, Miss Lewis, I’ll want to know all about it.” He pulled her to him, kissing her on the lips.
She found herself returning his kiss but, as his hands moved sensuously over the contours of her body, she eased him away.
“You wanted to discuss something with me, Marcus?” she said, hoping it would concentrate his mind on to other things.
She didn’t know if she’d be able to resist him for much longer. She walked away and he sat down on one of the grey sofas.
“Yes, I do,” he said. “Come here.”
She went over to him and just as she was going to sit beside him he pulled her down on to his lap.
“How would you like to come to a wedding?”
She felt her cheeks flush. A pain shot through her chest, threatening to choke her. How quickly it had all ended. Now the Lovelink problem was solved and she no longer needed him, he was free to go back to his life with Lucinda. So he was planning to marry Lucinda Dayton soon. How could she go to their wedding and watch the man she loved marry someone else?
“Er…thank you, Marcus. But obviously it will depend on the date and if I can get staff to cover at Lovelink. Remember I’m the sole employee here now.” She marvelled at how she managed to keep the tone of her voice so even.
She tried to stand up then, desperate for him to leave so that she could succumb to the first of the many tears she knew she was to shed over this man. But he gripped her hands tightly and his rich, deep laugh filled the office.
“Can’t you even get the day off for your own wedding? Maybe I’m beginning to see Jan’s point of view. I didn’t realise you were such a hard task master.”
Vicky didn’t understand. “My own wedding? But you just said…”
He held her to him and said, “Vicky, what I just said was my very muddled way of proposing to you. Darling, I meant to ask you to marry me. Don’t you see, I’m madly in love with you.”
“Me? But what about Lucinda…?”
“Lucinda? Lucinda Dayton?” His dark brows fell into a frown.
“Yes, I thought…I thought you were in love with her.”
Once more he laughed.
“If I were, Caro would have me shot at dawn. Lucinda’s got an interest in two of my thoroughbreds and admittedly we’ve gone out together socially a lot lately but there’s nothing remotely romantic about our meetings.”
Vicky glanced down and said, “I think she feels there is.”
“Perhaps. I told her about not believing in true love ages ago and I think she saw me as some sort of challenge. A girl like her doesn’t have to try too hard with her men. I made a change. But it was beginning to get on my nerves, especially when she interrupted our dinner last night and I was going to tell her about it. But it was difficult when she was also a client of the stables. Enough about Lucinda. It’s us I’m interested in. Vicky, answer me. Will you marry me?”
She laughed and standing up, pulled him after her in the direction of her office.
“You’ll have to ask Frank,” she said, enjoying first his look of bewilderment and then the flash of jealousy.
“Frank? Who the hell is Frank?” he asked as she pushed op
en the door of her office.
“Marcus meet Frank, my yucca tree. Love me, love my plant.”
They both laughed and his arms circled her waist once more. He kissed her and she responded freely, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back, relishing the delight of his touch. When they finally pulled apart, she gazed into his laughing blue eyes and thought how blind she must have been. He’d loved her—not Lucinda. She’d always thought herself to be a bad judge of character. Now she knew she was just plain hopeless.
“Well, I’m waiting. Will one of you please give me an answer?”
Laughing, she realised her dreams had all come true.
“Oh yes, Marcus. Yes, yes, yes.”
He pulled her to him, kissing her firmly. A delicious thrill coursed through her. When finally he moved away he asked, “Didn’t you ever guess how much I wanted you before? How much I longed to hold you, kiss you, love you? I tried telling you last night.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t even think you liked me very much.”
He smiled. “But it was always you who pushed me away every time I kissed you, tried to get close.”
“I promise I’ll never push you away again,” she said, brushing her fingertips lightly across his cheek.
“I want to shout it out loud. Tell everyone how much I love you,” he said.
Smiling, she answered, “That’s not bad coming from a man who only confessed to me quite recently that he didn’t believe in love.”
He gazed at her and said, slowly, “Oh, but I didn’t, Vicky. Not until the very day I first met you.”
About the Author
Tess Niland Kimber has always loved writing and has created stories from when she was just 9. Born on the Isle of Wight, a small island off the coast of southern England, she now also lives in West Sussex so the eldest of her three children can attend a Special School.
Lucky enough to write full-time, Tess regularly sells short stories, serials and articles to all the major UK women’s magazines and also to numerous publications in South Africa, Australia and Sweden. To date she has sold almost 200 stories and is an international, prize-winning author. Tess loves turning an idea into a sale and it is her dream to write best-selling novels.
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