by Ruth Hay
Seven Days Horizons
a Seven Days novel
Ruth Hay
Ruth Hay
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Also by Ruth Hay
About the Author
Copyright
About This Book
Fifth book in the Seven Days Series by Ruth Hay.
When a woman has it all, will she risk everything for that one last dangerous dream?
“Don’t ever confuse your life and your work. The second is only part of the first.”
Anna Quindlen.
The amazing Mexican week is behind them but repercussions echo into the following months.
In England, Zoe and Wesley must deal with their tentative promises to each other and the Toronto Beck family’s three generations is only starting to cope with a number of challenging issues.
* * *
The Seven Days Series
Seven Days There
Seven Days Back
Seven Days Beyond
Seven Days Away
Seven Days Horizons
Chapter 1
In the days following their return from the Mexican resort, Zoe Morton found she was incredibly busy at work and equally busy in her mind. She seemed to be deeply processing everything that had happened in one short week; a week that was supposed to be a simple, undemanding, holiday in the sun but had turned out to be entirely different.
In her few leisure moments with Wesley she wanted to ask him if the same process was alive in his mind but he was as busy with work as she was, and by the end of their frantic days they just needed to rest rather than analyze. On the one occasion when she had tried to initiate the conversation, Wesley’s reply was “Darling, I am unable to decide anything more challenging than what I want to eat. Ask me again in a few days.”
This was understandable. A raft of new patients had been waiting for her husband’s attention as soon as he reached his Fleet Street Psychiatry office but it did not stop her own mind from worrying away at things trivial and things far more important than that.
She tried to distract herself by thinking of the words ‘holiday’ and ‘vacation’. Both were comparatively new concepts for a woman who never admitted to needing either one. The first was derived from the medieval practice of allowing the peasantry to cease their labours only on church-designated holy days. The rest of the calendar was all heavy labour with no respite. She liked the idea of a communal but anonymous holiday, and had welcomed Wesley’s suggestion of a postponed honeymoon in the winter sunshine in the midst of a crowd of complete strangers. You might say, she thought, there was something vaguely holy about the events there concerning the poor girl, Portia Beck, who had endured a dreadful breakdown. Wesley was the one most involved in that situation but, latterly, Zoe had also contributed her talents. Lying awake at night looking at the vaulted ceiling of their bedroom in the former old church, holy was not a foreign concept, especially when her last sight of Portia had been such an optimistic one.
This brought her to the North American word ‘vacation’. It seemed to contain a suggestion of vacating, or leaving behind, everything familiar. The Canadian Beck and Anderson families she had met through Wesley had assuredly intended to leave their worries behind when they left home. From what she could understand, all ten of them had brought secrets and problems along with them on the journey.
The same did not apply to herself or Wesley. So, why was she still obsessed with this scenario?
Certainly it was all unexpected. Being caught up in the family dramas was something she would never have chosen. And yet, she had willingly abandoned her privacy to involve herself with not one but two Beck family members. Three if she counted Marian. Add to this, Wesley’s continuing close tie with his former professor, Aylward Beck, and it was probably not surprising that she had the feeling her quiet, secluded home life in Dunstan’s Close had been invaded. The trouble was, she had no one to blame but herself.
The final celebration meal in the private dining room at the resort was engraved on her mind. She and Wesley were observers, not totally comfortable with such an intimate family occasion but unable to refuse Aylward and Marian’s kind invitation. They could not have been prepared for the finale when
the professor announced to his family, their imminent move from Toronto to the Bahamas. It was not just the shock that rippled around the table. It was also the sense of the elderly couple setting the future to rights for their family members before they died. This above all was the recurring concern that gave Zoe sleepless hours; Family and the Future.
She had lost her mother through traumatic circumstances while still a teenager. Her long-lost father, now reconciled, had retired and was sharing a cottage in Scotland with her Aunt Isobel. These three composed her entire side of the Morton family. Wesley’s situation was no different. He was also an only child. His parents had died in a horrific train derailment when he was in his twenties.
Although it had not been mentioned since their return, in Mexico Wesley had asked her to reconsider her decision to remain childless. It must have been the influence of being in the midst of the Beck and Anderson families that had caused her to weaken for a moment and consider the impossible.
The truth was, the very thought of bearing a child terrified her.
Chapter 2
In England, spring comes early. When they arrived home from Mexico toward the end of February, it was to a Dunstan’s Close surrounded by nodding daffodils. Crocus clustered under the trees and primroses were cradled in pots near the doorways.
Wesley breathed the cool, fresh air and blessed England and his amazing home. They had arrived safely. He gave a passing thought to the homeward journey of Professor Beck, his wife and their fragile granddaughter Portia. He intended to get in touch with them in a few more days when they had time to settle into the Forest Hill home in Toronto. Aylward had asked him to consult on the choice of a new psychotherapist for Portia, while she was in their care.
He took immense satisfaction from his brief association with the learned professor. In these days it was becoming common to disparage the talk method of psychotherapy. Everyone sought fast cures. Months of deliberate listening and questioning and reversal of negative thinking patterns was not always seen as beneficial. To hear Professor Aylward Beck confirm what Wesley had always believed in, was a great consolation to him and confirmed his choices in professional life.
At the same time, there was a drawback to the lengthy process in which he was often involved. It was time-consuming and he was restricted in the number of patients he could accept. As soon as he returned to his office he was met with requests from a number of desperate souls who had tried and failed with the quick fix methods like hypnotism and multiple medications. He hated to turn them all away and shoehorned the worst cases into his already full schedule, recommending other practitioners to the remainder of the applicants in the hopes they could be accommodated there.
The result was hours added onto his days. At first, he felt this was recompense for the seven wonderful days he had enjoyed with Zoe
but after a week or two, he began to be concerned that he was missing an important opportunity with his wife.
In addition to the unexpected benefits of working with his mentor in Mexico, he had finally persuaded Zoe to take time off and he had seen her truly relaxed and peaceful for the first time in their marriage.
Of course, she had brought along a couple of sun-related projects to occupy her but she was happy to devote hours to talk and walk with him. When the Professor Beck connection interrupted their quiet days, the entire tenor of the holiday changed to one of multiple concerns, multiple people and new circumstances. He wondered, now, if exposure to the three generations of the professor’s family had awakened something in Zoe. She had certainly drawn close to Portia and, latterly, to Abigail. In any case, something had changed. His lovely, talented, beloved wife had opened the door to another discussion about enlarging their own family unit. Wesley feared if he did not initiate that discussion soon, the door would again close.
Chapter 3
Abigail Beck could not wait to return to her Toronto newspaper office. She had an exclusive news scoop in her hands and she wanted to share it with her boss, Curtis Soames, as soon as possible.
When she arrived, he was ensconced with two company executives and his office door was firmly shut against interruptions.
She collapsed at her desk. She had formed a dream scenario on the airplane journey from Mexico in which she outlined a publicity breakthrough guaranteed to rake in thousands of dollars of revenue for the paper. She would calmly accept his high praise and his idea of her value to the business would rocket to a previously unattained level. With luck, he might begin to see her as a candidate for the television arm of the company and she could get the TV anchor role to which she had long aspired.
Abigail could hardly wait to inaugurate this change with her boss but all she had for the moment was a stringer’s enthusiasm.
“Miss Beck, your reports from Mexico were just excellent. I wrote them up for a series of articles, with Mr. Soames’ approval of course, and your byline, of course. I kept copies for you on your computer. I hope you approve of what I did.”
Abigail had almost forgotten the original purpose for her vacation. Events at the conclusion of the week had overshadowed her detective work about security and safety for people travelling to the Mexican resort near Puerto Vallarta for a break in the sun. She was able to forward a few reports to Curtis Soames. There might have been more had she not been having such a good time with her sister, Louise, and brother, Devon. The last-minute generosity of Zoe Morton had completely overshadowed the work for the newspaper she had initially undertaken.
She clutched the briefcase in which she had stowed the photograph with her brief notes on the possible publicity angles to the story. She knew it was big. Bigger than big, in fact. No reporter, paparazzi or friend of the family, had ever managed to get more than a word or two from Zoe Morton for publication. She was incredibly private for someone in the public eye with a huge company to run.
There were rumours about a secret hideaway where she lived but no actual address had been revealed as yet. She did not appear to own a car, using different driving companies to ferry her across the city to meetings. Everything she had done, till now, was a choice to stay out of the newspapers and magazines. She was not a typical celebrity type and therefore a breakthrough in her armour was all the more valuable. Abigail had met Zoe’s husband and could now confirm the marriage despite her name remaining the same. She could describe Dr. Wesley Philips and comment on his profession although she had been cautioned not to reveal the nature of his work in Mexico with Portia Anderson.
Abigail was well aware that she would have to be circumspect about her family’s situation regarding Portia. Zoe Morton had not requested approval of any script to be published. She had left the responsibility with Abigail. It was a responsibility she meant to respect. If there should be further opportunities to work with Zoe Morton or her Excelsior Lines of products for women, she must navigate her way carefully through the minefield of oversharing details of the couple’s private lives.
She had no doubt Curtis Soames would not have such scruples. For her, it was paramount, for the very first time in her career. Whatever happened in that office whose door she was watching like a hawk, she was determined not to betray the trust of one Zoe Morton.
When the executives finally departed, Abigail saw her opportunity. She entered quickly before anyone else could demand his attention. Clutched in her hand was a folder containing the evidence and her notes but she had no intention of revealing the coup until she had obtained some kind of promise from Curtis Soames.
“So, you’re back. Nice tan. I think we can run the article about the resort in the Weekend Travel section. It could make two items for consecutive weeks if you brought back more information. Go and see what you can do with it.”
She had been dismissed. Like a schoolgirl from the head teacher’s office, she had been sent on her way.
As she watched her boss run his fingers through his greying hair and shuffle papers on his desk, she realized her opinion of this man had undergone a huge change. She had actually wanted to seduce him as a way to incorporate his power for herself. Now that she had a taste of that power she did not need him. Let him go back to his wife unclaimed by Abigail Beck. She was too good for him. What she carried in her folder was much too good for him.
Chapter 4
Aylward Beck was feeling revitalized by the need to set so much in motion on his return home to Canada from the eventful week in Mexico with his family.
First, he had to settle Portia into her new, hopefully temporary, home.
Marian had a good relationship with the girl and she was the one to install her in Megan’s old room full of reminders of their daughter’s earlier years. This had gone smoothly at first. Of course they were all three suffering from a degree of fatigue after the unexpected revelations in Mexico. A few nights’ good sleep in their own beds helped the elderly couple. For their granddaughter Portia, however, the feelings of anxiety and disconnect soon returned to haunt her, especially after the essential examination at Marian’s own female doctor’s office. The results proved the girl had been sexually assaulted but, thankfully, no lasting physical damage or infection was observed.
Aylward thought often of Zoe and Wesley and how much the girl had related to them in a positive way. Sadly, they were now back in England pursuing their busy careers and too far away to help in any meaningful fashion. There had been a phone call or two with Wesley regarding a suitable psychotherapist to work with Portia but the distance between them had limited his ability to help. It was, however, made clear to Aylward that the English couple wanted to know about Portia’s progress and they were willing to do anything they could toward that end.
Aylward had made calls in Toronto to his former colleagues who espoused the same principles of therapy as he and Wesley. He had finally uncovered a younger man who reportedly showed great promise and who was willing to come to the house in Forest Hill for regular sessions with his grandchild.
He would have preferred a woman therapist. Portia related better to women. Her phobia was connected to an assault by a male worker and she was suspicious of men in general, but there was no suitable female candidate available at the moment.
Their initial meeting had been problematic despite Marian’s attendance in the room. Jonas Killinger was small, with deeply tanned skin, dark hair and large-rimmed glasses behind which he seemed a trifle nervous in the presence of the renowned professor. Aylward introduced the young man to Portia and went, leaving his wife to supervise and report back to him later.
Marian said Portia had reverted to her former withdrawn and troubled state. She would not look at Dr. Killinger and huddled in her chair, to all intents and purposes as if she wished to disappear entirely. Marian remembered how Wesley had spoken softly to Portia and told her stories about himself to break the ice and pique her interest. Also, Zoe had the knack of keyin
g into Portia’s design and colour awareness. Marian hesitated to suggest these methods to the young man. She was merely an observer and not a practising therapist.
After a frustrating thirty minutes, the session ended. Dr. Killinger informed Aylward he had ‘made a good start’ and would return the next day to continue the therapy. When he heard his wife’s opinion, however, the professor decided to sit in on the second session and form his own conclusions. Meantime, he pursued his enquiries about the availability of a female therapist who would make at least a few house calls.
Second on the list of concerns occupying his mind, were the financial issues resulting from decisions and promises made at the end of the seven days in the Mexican resort. This required a visit to his bank.
When William Benedict saw the elderly man at the reception desk of the bank, he adjusted his memory of the professor’s previous appearance to accommodate the changes he now saw. For the last decade, the bank had dealt with only Marian Beck; an older woman who had always presented a smart, careful look that suited her age and stage. The man he observed from his office was obviously several years older than his wife and looking somewhat the worse for wear with his unruly white hair and untidy clothing. The question that occupied William’s thoughts was whether the professor’s mental state matched his appearance.
“Professor Beck! It’s some time since we have had the pleasure of seeing you at the bank. Is your lady wife well?”
“She is fine. I have a number of important financial matters to deal with today and I need your undivided attention for several minutes.”
“Oh, of course! Of course! Please be seated in my office and I will attend to your concerns at once.”