by Sharon Booth
Eden had to hand it to her. She made it sound reasonable that having his Rolls Royce pranged had led to a positive outcome for Cain.
He gaped at her, not making a sound, but only for a moment. 'You useless brat. You're gunna have to pay for the damage.'
'Unfortunately, father dear, you're cutting off my allowance,' she pointed out. 'And, as it stands, I have no money to pay for anything.' She gave a dramatic sigh. 'I should think it would be worth every penny, knowing I'm banished to the wilds of Yorkshire and there's nothing I can do about it. A whole summer without Crispin, the love of my life. Don't you think that's punishment enough?' Her bottom lip wobbled, and her eyes filled with tears.
God thought Eden admiringly, she's good.
Cain deflated like a popped balloon. 'So, you're going, then?'
'I have no choice, do I? And by the time I get back, Lavinia will be home, and no doubt Crispin will have forgotten all about me.' A tear rolled down her cheek, bang on cue.
He sighed. 'Look, darls, it's for the best, trust me on this. Yorkshire won't be so bad, and it's only for two months. By the time you get home, you'll be over him. This is just a crush. There'll be someone else out there for you, someone who deserves you. Not some married bloke looking for a quick fumble. I'm doing this for your own good. You know that, deep down, don't you?'
She whimpered and gave a slight nod before burying her head in her pillow.
Cain took a step towards her, but seemed to think better of it, and shrugged helplessly. 'I'll ring the garage. Get the cars sorted ASAP. You'll need the Beetle for your journey. And I won't stop your allowance, babe. Promise. Not now you're being a good girl.' He looked at Eden anxiously. 'See to her, will you?'
She nodded, and he left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
Honey rolled over, wiped away her tear and sat up. 'Right, that's sorted. Now, we have to make sure you'll pass for me.'
'You deserve an Oscar,' Eden said, with grudging admiration. 'Seriously, you can't expect me to go to Yorkshire in your place? You're joking, right?'
'Oh, no, dear Eden, I'm perfectly serious. Think about it. You're trying to get back into his good books, aren't you? Do you really want him to know you're responsible for damaging his precious car?'
No, Eden didn't. Working for the Carmichaels wasn't the best job in the world, but it was a job, and she needed the money. If Cain fired her, she'd also be looking for somewhere to live. It would be so embarrassing to move back in with her parents. Then there was the small matter of having to find the finances to pay for the damage to both the Rolls Royce and the Beetle. She would never be able to afford it, especially if she was unemployed. Cain loved that dratted car of his and he wouldn't turn a blind eye.
She slumped, defeated. She had no choice, really. Honey was right.
'Now, I know you're an awful lot older than me —'
'Four years!' Eden protested.
'Hmm, and you're fatter, of course.'
'By about twelve pounds.' She was rapidly going off Honey.
'I think some of my looser clothes will fit you.'
'What's wrong with my own clothes?'
'They're not designer.'
'Why would I need designer clothes in the Yorkshire Dales?'
'I would only ever wear designer clothes. You're me for the summer. You have to do what I'd do, remember?'
'He won't know the difference.'
'He was married to Mother's cousin. I'm sure he learnt a lot. And do you seriously think my parents will go the whole summer without checking up on me? They'll get in touch with him. They'll want to know if I'm behaving myself. You have to be me in every way possible. You have to behave like me. You have to do what I'd do, otherwise they'll be tipped off something's wrong. If they ask how I'm getting on, and he tells them I'm being very kind, making cakes and reading stories to the children, they'll be highly suspicious. You have to give him plenty of ammunition to hurl at them. When they ring, I want him complaining about my behaviour. Okay?'
'Don't you think he's got enough to worry about?' Eden said, horrified.
'Serves him right for agreeing to be my prison officer,' Honey said.
Eden realised that it would be to the Harlands' advantage if she, rather than Honey, moved in with them. Honey would make their lives miserable. If she wasn't happy, she always made sure everyone else suffered with her. That little family had been through enough. At least Eden could go easier on them. Maybe it was for the best that she was to take Honey's place, after all.
Honey looked at her thoughtfully. 'You'll have to bleach your hair, of course.'
'I will not,' Eden said. 'I'm already blonde. Sort of.'
'More of a dull mouse. Fair, at best.'
'Charming. Well, that's as light as I need to be, thank you very much.'
'It's a well-known fact that Honey Carmichael is blonde,' she snapped. 'Dad and I are natural blondes, everyone knows that.'
'Natural blondes?' Eden giggled. 'So, your hair is naturally Number Nineteen, Spun Gold, and Cain's hair is naturally Number Sixteen, Golden Glory, with Number Twenty-Nine Burnt Caramel highlights?'
Honey looked put out. 'I'm not saying we don't give it a bit of help,' she admitted.
'A bit of help? Honey, you've got brown hair. I've seen those photos of you on your seventeenth birthday, remember?'
'That was winter time. The sun always bleaches it in the summer.'
'Crikey. Where do you go for your holidays? Mercury?'
'I'm not arguing with you. You're going blonde, and that's that. I'll book you in with Marco tomorrow. He'll do it as a favour for me.'
'Forget it. I'm not going blonde.'
'We'll see,' she said and lay down on her bed again, her golden hair fanned out around her face, every inch of her resembling a Disney princess. Pity she had the heart of a troll.
Watching her, Eden had an awful feeling that, by the same time tomorrow, she'd be blonde.
Chapter Five
The girl with the long, blonde hair stepped out of her bright yellow Beetle Cabriolet and stared at herself in the window of the nearest shop. Eden peered closer. Crikey, was that really her? She didn't recognise herself. She'd refused to bleach all her hair, but she had agreed to some highlights, and it had made an amazing difference. She had to admit, she rather liked the effect. Perhaps she wouldn't have been so convincing looking in a mirror but staring at her reflection in the smoky glass of the vintage clothing store opposite the car, she could certainly pass for Honey. Especially if one had never met her, and, luckily, Eliot Harland hadn't.
She shut the car door and locked it carefully. She had about half an hour to spare before she was due to meet Eliot. It had taken her most of the day to get there — well, six-and-a-half hours, more accurately. She'd stopped at a motorway service station after about three hours, dashing into the toilets and morphing into Honey, like Clark Kent morphing into Superman in a phone box. She was glad of the break, needing to stretch her legs and get a drink and a sandwich. She'd almost walked straight out of the café again when she saw the prices, until she remembered Honey had given her one of her credit cards and told her to feel free to buy whatever she liked. Her father would be paying the bill, and the more evidence he had of her spending in Yorkshire, the better, as far as she was concerned.
Cain had spoken to Eliot and arranged that he would meet her in Kirkby Skimmer, the only town in Skimmerdale. He was too worried that "Honey" would get lost trying to find a remote sheep farm, so Eliot had promised he'd meet up with her in the market square for her to follow his Land Rover back to Fleetsthorpe, his home.
'How much does Eliot know?' Eden had asked Cain. 'Have you told him the reason Honey's staying with him?'
'You must be joking. The fewer people who know she's been shagging a Tory toff, the better. I said she'd gone a little off the rails and needed a firm hand. With any luck, he'll think she's been taking drugs, or sumfink.'
Well, yes, obviously that was infinitely preferable, thought
Eden. She wondered what Eliot would be expecting. He must be absolutely desperate, to take on such an attractive prospect.
That morning, Honey had made a great show of saying goodbye. She'd cried and raged and begged for one last chance, while Cain had tried his best to fight back tears and assured her he was doing this for her own good, and the summer would be over before she knew it.
'Right, well, I'd better ring a taxi,' Eden had said, as rehearsed. 'Time to get off to Mum and Dad's.'
'Yeah, that's the spirit,' said Cain. 'I've paid you two months' wages into your bank account, so you've no worries there. Reckon I've bin a bit mean to you, Eden. Not your fault this one don't know how to behave herself. When you come back, I'll find sumfink for you to do, okay? Don't spend the summer worrying about it.'
Eden hoped she wasn't blushing. Since Cain had calmed down, he'd been altogether more reasonable, and there she was, helping his daughter to thoroughly deceive him. She wasn't proud of herself.
Honey sighed, rather theatrically. 'I suppose I may as well drop you off on the way. I'm passing through your village, and it will at least give me some company for the first half an hour. After that, it's the lonely open road for me.'
Cain had approved and congratulated her on being so thoughtful. 'Now, Eliot's going to meet you at four o'clock in the Market Square at Kirkby Skimmer. I've programmed your SatNav for you, so you should be okay getting there. I'll be ringing the farm around six to make sure you've got there safely, and I'll telephone every couple of days to make sure you're behaving yourself, so be good.'
Honey stamped her foot. 'Isn't it bad enough that you're exiling me? Do you have to embarrass me and check up on me, too?'
'Be fair, Honey. You ain't the best-behaved girl in the world. I've got to make sure you ain't up to no mischief.'
'You're a tyrant, and I'm glad to be getting away from you.' She jumped in the car and slammed the door.
'I don't mean to be horrible to her,' Cain whimpered, his eyes even more watery.
Eden shook her head. 'Don't worry about her. She'll be fine. She's just trying to make you feel guilty. Don't let her win, whatever you do. Remember, it's for the best.'
'Yeah, yeah.'
Eden's heart went out to him. How had things got so out of hand? She wished she could rewind and get out of this awful situation, but it was far too late. All she could do was hope and pray that she was doing the right thing for everyone. She knew that it was definitely better for the Harlands that it was her and not Honey that would be heading to Skimmerdale, but it had also occurred to her recently that it might work out better for Cain, too. The more Honey was told she couldn't have something, the more she wanted it. Being parted from Crispin would only make her cling to him more. On the other hand, being free to spend an entire summer in his company, she might well discover that he wasn't as exciting as she thought. If giving Honey what she wanted resulted in her growing tired of Crispin and ending the affair herself, it would be the best possible outcome. She really hoped so because she couldn't take much more guilt. 'Think of the knighthood,' she suggested, and he brightened immediately.
'You ain't wrong there,' he said. 'Take care, Eden. See you in September. Honey,' he called, 'love you, darls.'
Honey had winked at her as they set off, not seeming to mind at all that she was deceiving her father and leaving him wracked with guilt. She was far too excited about meeting up with Crispin, whom she hadn't seen for over a week—something she informed Eden of every five minutes, as they left Upper Bourbury behind and headed for the village of Carpington, just outside Oxford, where Crispin would be waiting for her.
Eden really didn't know what Honey saw in the guy. In his mid-thirties, he was the pretty boy of the Tory party, according to the tabloids, but he was far too well-groomed for Eden's liking. She suspected he must spend hours in front of the mirror, tweezing, cleansing, moisturising, and faffing with his immaculate fair hair.
When they arrived at the lay-by, the romantic destination they'd chosen to meet, he was slumped in his car with a miserable expression on his face. Two other cars were parked up. Inside one, a couple were snogging the faces off each other, while in the other—a bright red Mini—a man was hunched over a newspaper, seemingly absorbed in a crossword puzzle, or something.
Honey leapt out of the car and raced over to Crispin's borrowed Volvo. Apparently, he'd wisely decided his Jaguar would be too conspicuous. She banged none-too-discreetly on the window, and he reached over and unlocked the passenger door.
'Help me with my things,' she said, but he shook his head.
'I can't be seen. Hurry up and put your stuff in the back seat, then get in. I can't hang around. Lavinia has friends everywhere. I'm a nervous wreck.'
She gave him a scornful look and called across to Eden. 'Bring my bags!'
'Yes, m'lady.' Grumbling, Eden lifted her suitcases and vanity case out of the boot and struggled across to the Volvo with them.
'Right, here's my mobile, so you can answer any texts Dad or Mother send me. Don't speak to them if they telephone, whatever you do. They probably won't be able to get through, anyway, but just in case.'
'What about when they call Eliot on the house phone? They're bound to want to speak to you.'
'Well, don't speak to them, for God's sake. You'll think of something, I'm sure. I've got a new phone, and I've put my number in the contacts for you, but don't get in touch with me unless it's an absolute emergency, okay? I don't want to be interrupted. Okay, I think that's everything. All you need now is my attitude. Don't be a wimp. Make sure Eliot and the brats know who's boss. I wouldn't take any crap from them, so you'd better not, either. Remember, when in doubt, think Honey!'
'Hurry up!' whined Crispin. 'I don't feel safe here. I feel as if I'm being watched.'
'Don't be pathetic,' said Honey. She patted Eden's arm in some kind of attempt at affection. 'Right then. Off you go. Give those northerners hell. See you in September.'
Eden had given her a weak smile and headed back to the Beetle. She'd barely had time to put on her seatbelt, before Crispin was roaring out of the lay-by and back onto the main road. She started the engine of the Beetle and began to pull away, stopping suddenly as the crossword geek in the red Mini pulled out in front of her. Eden blasted him with the horn. She may as well get into character from the off. This was it. From that moment on, she was Honey Carmichael.
Having arrived in Kirkby Skimmer, though, and standing there in the pretty, cobbled market square, she felt a twinge of nerves. She hitched up her bag — or rather, Honey's bag, bought from LK Bennett not six months ago and now deemed out-of-date, in spite of the fact that she'd paid over two hundred pounds for it. In the handbag — the most expensive she'd ever carried, by a mile — she had Honey's iPhone, the keys to a nearly-new car, a purse containing her credit card, and Eden's own bank debit card giving access to her account, which contained the most money she'd ever had in her life, since Cain had paid her two months' wages in advance.
If she got mugged, the perpetrator would think it was Christmas.
Her eyes darted from side to side as she strolled around the market square, on the lookout for any potential pickpockets or violent robbers. She had to admit, it hardly seemed the location for such people. In spite of the heavy, grey skies, which cast a gloom over the place, it was obviously a pretty, Georgian town. The shops were all small, and many seemed to be independent businesses. Some of them were even rather quirky. There were some vintage clothes shops, a plentiful supply of tearooms, a bookshop and an old-fashioned sweet shop, among others. There wasn't a Costa or a McDonald's in sight, though she spotted a Laura Ashley outlet and a Lakeland store.
The tourist information centre looked pretty busy as she passed. Several people in kagoules and hiking boots were clustered in the doorway, studying maps, as if the threat of rain was no obstacle to their intended walks. They were obviously made of sterner stuff than Eden, who was eyeing the dark skies with increasing anxiety. People here seemed obliv
ious to the weather, milling around outside the gift shop, peering through the windows at the displays of plates and mugs, fridge magnets and keyrings, or examining the rack outside, which was stacked with postcards of local views.
She glanced at her watch, wondering if she had time to pop into the little teashop she'd spotted. Some people were sitting at tables outside and were tucking into the most delicious looking scones covered in jam and clotted cream. You couldn't beat a cream tea, in Eden's opinion, and she realised suddenly she was hungry. The sandwich of tasteless white bread and an anaemic processed cheese slice, which she'd bought at the service station, hadn't filled her up at all.
Could she risk it? She had ten minutes to go, after all.
She thought about Eliot Harland. She could picture him clearly in her mind's eye. He'd be stocky and red-cheeked, with a weather-beaten face that came from working outside a lot of the time, tending sheep. He'd probably be dour. It seemed to be the general opinion that all farmers were dour, and northern farmers doubly so. She realised she had no idea how old he was. He'd been married to Freya's cousin, and Freya was around forty-eight, although a great many of her body parts were considerably younger, it had to be said. Eden guessed he must be around fiftyish. So, how old would that make the children? He'd probably married late, being so isolated up here, and had met his wife later in life. The kids were possibly teenagers. No wonder he couldn't cope with them alone. She shuddered at the thought of dealing with all those hormonal surges. This wasn't going to be much fun at all.
She decided against going into the teashop. She didn't want to incur his wrath from the first day. He was going to despise her pretty quickly, anyway, the minute she slipped into Honey mode. Besides, she was sure she'd felt the first drop of rain. Maybe she'd be wiser to get back to the car.
Reluctantly, she turned away from the inviting smell of the scones and saw someone standing by the Beetle, peering in through the window. Her heart began to thud as she tried to remember if she'd left anything on the backseat. She was sure it was all in the boot, but what if she'd forgotten something? Or what if Honey had put something there, and it hadn't occurred to her to remove it when she got out? Just her luck to attract a thief on her first day.