This Other Eden (Skimmerdale Book 1)

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This Other Eden (Skimmerdale Book 1) Page 9

by Sharon Booth


  Once she'd hung the clothes up in the wardrobe and stuffed the last of her underwear — thankfully, her own — into the drawers, she sank onto the bed and wondered what to do next. She checked her phone. As predicted, there was no signal, although it didn't really matter. She had no one to call. Her mum and dad were, no doubt, out and about in Tenerife, and Honey would kill her if she interrupted her. She wondered how she and Crispin were getting on, then pushed the thought away. She really didn't want to think about that, and, anyway, she was still feeling guilty that, by taking Honey's place, she was allowing the two of them to cheat on his unsuspecting wife.

  Muffled voices drifted up from outside, and standing, she edged close to the window. The rain had finally stopped, and, peering round the net curtain, which was nowhere near as dingy as the ones downstairs, she spotted Daisy collecting the washing from the line in the garden. The girls were helping, and there was a lot of giggling going on. As she watched them, her heart melted. The girls were the spitting image of their father and had therefore won her over already. Eliot obviously adored them, too, although she suspected George was the apple of his eye. The way his face had lit up when Daisy brought him into the room and how he'd immediately took hold of him revealed how precious the little boy was to him.

  George was nothing like Eliot, having blue eyes and fair hair, but his chubby cheeks and dimpled smile were adorable. Eliot had been careful not to reveal too much of what he was thinking in front of her, but when she'd insulted his son, he'd really reacted. She realised George couldn't have been very old when his mother died. She'd been killed roughly two years ago, and George was about two now. How tough it must have been for Eliot to have been left with two little girls and a baby to care for. How had he coped? Was he looking for a replacement mother for them?

  Was it Daisy he had in mind?

  There was no doubt she had a crush on him. It was obvious from the way she gazed adoringly at him, and how she'd worked so hard to take care of the house and children that day. How did Daisy feel about Eliot having a new guest, Eden wondered. She was quite pretty, with a round face, dimples, large brown eyes and a shiny brown bob, and she looked a similar age to Eden. There was quite a lot there to attract Eliot, and the children seemed fond of her, anyway.

  Realising she may as well face the music and go downstairs, Eden moved away from the window. A glance at her watch revealed that Cain would be telephoning the farm soon, to check up on her. She still had to think of an excuse not to talk to him.

  In the kitchen, she found Eliot at the table, his hands cupping a chipped mug. George sat in a highchair next to him, while Eliot encouraged him to drink his juice from the plastic cup he clutched in his chubby little hands.

  Eden sat opposite her new employer, so she could get a good view of that gorgeous face. He was irresistible, and the way he interacted with the little boy was lovely. Watching them, she felt another pang for their loss. They'd all been through so much. It was so unfair.

  'Your tea went cold, so I threw it away. Make yersen another one, if you like.'

  That snapped her out of her daydreaming. She had to remember who she was supposed to be and stop mooning around after him like a lovesick teenager. 'Charming,' she said. 'Do you always treat your guests so well?'

  'Never had a guest before,' he said. 'And after this, I doubt I'll have another.'

  'Well, I certainly won't be recommending you to anyone, that's for sure,' she said.

  'You're not exactly a guest, any road. You're here to work. I'm not putting you up for nowt remember. And them little lasses will keep you on your toes when school breaks up. Not to mention miladdo here.'

  He nodded towards George, who seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously, taking mouthfuls of juice and then spitting it back into his cup.

  'He has his father's manners, I see,' said Eden.

  Eliot's eyes narrowed. 'He's a good lad. Reckon you're not used to kiddies. Probably don't know owt about them. Well, you'd better learn and fast. I'm not happy about you taking care of them, and if I had any other choice, I would take it.'

  'I feel so special.'

  'You know as well as I do, you're here on sufferance.' He looked at her, obviously curious. 'What did you do, any road?'

  'What do you mean, what did I do?'

  'Oh, come on. Strikes me that with the kind of life Cain Carmichael's led, it would take a lot to shock him. Your mother says he was desperate to get you out of the way, and if you've done something to make him send you all the way up here so I can keep an eye on you, it must be something big. You must have been a very bad lass.' His lips twitched in amusement.

  Eden watched them, fascinated. He had a beautiful mouth. She wondered what those lips would feel like, pressing against her own. And the way he said, "You must have been a very bad lass," in that broad Yorkshire accent, was making her feel very peculiar. She was glad she'd sat down. Her legs felt suddenly rather shaky.

  'Well?'

  'Well, what?'

  'What did you do?'

  'I — nothing. I didn't —'

  Luckily for Eden, the back door flew open and the two girls ran into the room, followed closely by Daisy carrying the basket of wet washing.

  She looked at Eliot, then at Eden, who sensed that the sight of the two of them sitting together wasn't exactly a welcome one to her. 'Right, that's that brought in,' she said, far too brightly. 'Reckon the rain won't hold off for long, so I'll put this lot in the dryer. Shame. I was hoping I'd have time to iron it all before I left.'

  So, she'd done the washing? It was too good an opportunity to miss. Eden studied her nails carefully, mainly because she couldn't bear to see Daisy's face when she said what she was going to say.

  'You did the washing, did you? I take it the washing machine's broken? Or did you stick the dirty laundry on the line and hope the rain would wash it clean?'

  'What are you on about?' Daisy's chin tilted defiantly.

  'Well, are the clothes always that shade of grey, or did you have an accident with a black sock?'

  Ophelia looked puzzled. 'They always look like that,' she said.

  Eden hoped her face wasn't as red as Daisy's. So, Eliot had turned the clothes grey? Well, that was embarrassing. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but Honey would never have done that. Instead, she laughed and said, 'Goodness. Maybe it's time you got a new washing machine.'

  Eliot stared at her. 'Have you finished?' He stood up. 'Come on, Daisy, I'll run you home. You've done enough for today, and I can never repay you.'

  'Oh, I bet you could,' said Eden.

  'You don't have to take me home,' said Daisy. 'Honestly, I can walk.'

  'I won't hear of it. Honey can look after the kids. It will be good practice for her, and she's got to start somewhere.'

  'Well, if you're sure ...'

  'Of course he's sure. Don't be such a fool,' said Eden. 'If I were you, I'd stop playing hard to get. It's not very convincing, and it's terribly unattractive in a woman of your age.'

  She wondered what on earth had happened to her. It was becoming frighteningly easy to act like Honey. That's what you got for hanging around with someone who didn't give a fig for other people's feelings for so long.

  Daisy hung her head, but Eliot looked livid. 'Drop the attitude,' he told her. 'Remember your manners, or I might just forget mine.'

  Eden flushed as the two of them stared at each other. It was a few moments before she became aware that Ophelia was tugging on her father's arm.

  'Dad, Dad, the phone's ringing.' She was wide-eyed, as if they didn't get many calls.

  'You can get it,' said Eliot, nodding coldly at Eden. 'It will be your father, any road. He said he'd check you got here all right.'

  Eden felt sick with panic. She couldn't possibly talk to Cain. One word from her, and he'd know immediately she wasn't his daughter.

  'Well?'

  'I'm not answering your phone,' she said haughtily. 'That call could easily be for you. What am I, now, your
receptionist?'

  Daisy gasped.

  Eliot shook his head. 'Unbelievable.' He stormed into the hallway, leaving her sitting in the chair, trying not to tremble.

  'Here's a shock,' he called after a moment. 'It's for you. It's your dad.'

  Eden swallowed.

  Ophelia looked at her with interest. 'Don't you want to talk to your dad?'

  'Not particularly.'

  Libby's eyes were full of sympathy. 'Has he been mean to you?'

  Eden smiled suddenly. 'Yes, yes, he has. He's been terribly mean. I don't want to speak to him, so I won't.'

  Ophelia ran into the hallway. 'Honey doesn't want to talk to her dad. He's been mean to her.'

  There was some muttering, then Eliot reappeared in the kitchen. 'What are you waiting for? Your dad wants you.'

  'Well, I don't want him,' said Eden firmly.

  'Have you gone mad?'

  'Certainly not, though I think it's only a matter of time. I mean, look at this place. My father has the cheek to send me to this wilderness, and then expects me to talk to him on the phone as if he's done nothing wrong. This is all his fault. I have nothing to say to him, and you can tell him that from me, thank you very much.'

  Eliot glanced round at his daughters, who were watching Eden in awe. George took the opportunity to tip his cup of juice all over the table, which seemed to snap Daisy out of her trance. She rushed to get a cloth, and Eliot leaned towards Eden.

  She suppressed a shiver as his lips brushed against her ear. 'Don't for a minute think this is how it's going to be,' he murmured. 'It's day one, my kids are here, and I'm trying hard to be a gentleman, but be warned … my patience is wearing thin already. Don't push me.'

  It was terribly wrong of her, but Eden couldn't help thinking how attractive he looked when he was angry. She sat still, as he strode back into the hallway. She heard him telling Honey's father that his daughter had arrived safely, and that she was behaving like a spoilt madam and throwing her weight around already. He assured Cain he would keep a close eye on her, and he'd keep her busy. That should reassure Cain, at any rate. Honey was behaving exactly as he'd expect.

  Realising she'd been holding her breath, she slowly released the air. That was one bullet dodged, anyway.

  Daisy pushed past her, carrying the basket of washing under her arm as she headed towards the boot room, where the dryer was kept. There was definite curiosity in her eyes. She would have to watch that one. If Daisy got the slightest inkling that all was not as it should be, Eden had no doubt she would do everything in her power to make sure Eliot got the truth.

  Daisy already saw her as a threat. Eden would have to up her game.

  ****

  Lavinia moaned softly as Gregorio's expert hands smoothed the suntan lotion into her shoulders.

  'You like that?' he asked.

  'Divine. You know just how to do it.'

  'Turn over, and I will rub some onto your chest.'

  She laughed. 'Oh, no, you don't. We both know where that will lead.'

  'That would be a bad thing?' He leaned forward and kissed her neck.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, sorely tempted to take him up on his offer. The trouble was, it was so lovely out here, lying by the pool, soaking up the rays of glorious Portuguese sunshine. She wasn't sure she could be bothered to go indoors and start all that messiness again. The man was insatiable, and as flattering as it was to be wanted so badly, by a rather attractive hunk at least ten years her junior, the fact was that her main priorities this summer were to sunbathe, swim, drink plenty of delicious cocktails, and get a deep, golden tan. Sex was all very well and good, but she'd never been short of it. Crispin kept her well satisfied, and she could have Gregorio any time she liked. Sunshine and leisure time, on the other hand, were in short supply back in Windleby-on-the-Weir. Gregorio could wait until after dinner. She didn't want him to start taking her for granted, after all.

  'Be a darling and fetch me another Margarita.'

  He tutted, clearly annoyed. 'You cannot have one afterwards?'

  'Afterwards? Don't make assumptions. I'm not here to spend my entire time in bed with you. Now, let's both have a drink. Or maybe you'd like a dip in the pool? Might cool you down a bit.'

  'Be careful I do not freeze on you.'

  'I sincerely doubt that will happen, but if you're not enjoying yourself, feel free to leave. After all, I've only paid for this fabulous villa, your flights, and a whole new wardrobe of clothes. Still, if you want to go back to your bedsit in England, feel free.'

  He stared down at her with panic in his eyes.

  She smiled at him. 'On the other hand, you can stop moaning and enjoy the break from your sad little gardening job. Why don't you make us two Margaritas? We can have a lazy afternoon in the sun, enjoy a cosy dinner, and then head to the bedroom, where you can do what you do best. What do you say?'

  He hesitated but nodded. 'You know it is only because you are so beautiful. It is hard to keep my hands off you.'

  'Yes, I know. You're awfully sweet. I shall let you put your hands anywhere you want tonight, I promise.'

  His eyes lit up, and as he headed into the villa to fix their drinks, she sighed. It was like training a puppy, really. A system of withholding attention and rewarding good behaviour. He'd get the hang of it, eventually.

  She tutted when her mobile phone started to ring and made the enormous effort to reach over into her bag, which was lying beside her sun lounger.

  'Hello?'

  'Darling, is that you?'

  'Well, of course it's me, Daddy. Who else would it be? Anything to report?'

  'They arrived yesterday. Just as we thought, she's there with him. It's disgusting, really. She looks about eighteen. What on earth is he playing at?'

  'Oh, I think we both know what he's playing at.'

  'I don't know how you can be so calm. You're letting him get away with it. I felt like banging on that door last night and kicking the pair of them out of that bed and down the stairs and all the way back to Windleby-on-the-Weir. They're laughing at you.'

  'Daddy, I can assure you, I am not letting Crispin get away with it. When this is over — and it will be over, as soon as he's got over this silly infatuation with the girl — I shall make him pay. I can promise you that. In the meantime, why rock the boat? He has a promising career ahead of him. I'm not going to let some stupid fling jeopardise that. So long as they're discreet, I'll leave them to it.'

  'Why go all the way to Portugal to leave them alone? Why make it easy for them? I don't understand.'

  'Daddy, I explained all this. If I'd been at home all summer with him, he'd have had to sneak around so he could see her. The chances of him being spotted by the press would increase beyond measure. With me out here, he was free to take the little scrubber away to that hovel in Dorset, where no one can get near, and no one will even think to look. It was damage limitation.'

  'Maybe so. It doesn't seem fair to me, though.'

  Lavinia gave a martyred sigh. 'I know. I knew when I married him I would probably have to make sacrifices. Being a politician's wife is never easy. I'll be all right here, Daddy. I'm catching up on my reading, and I'm doing a lot of swimming.'

  'Are you sure you don't want me to come out there? I can keep you company. I hate to think of you all alone in a foreign country.'

  Lavinia sat up in alarm. 'No, Daddy! Certainly not. It's vital you keep an eye on Crispin and the slapper. We must make absolutely sure he doesn't mess this up. Any sign he's in danger of being discovered, and you must tip him off, do you understand? There are bigger things at stake here than some silly little fling with a girl who looks as if she's barely left school.'

  'Well, I suppose you're right. As long as you're sure.'

  'I'm sure, Daddy.' Lavinia put her finger to her lips as Gregorio wandered over, carrying the cocktails. 'Speak soon. Love to Francesca.' She replaced the phone in her bag and leaned back in her sun lounger, heaving a sigh of relief.

  'Yo
ur father? Everything is all right?'

  She took a sip from the glass. 'Everything's perfect, darling.'

  She thought about Crispin, tucked away in his sister's Dorset cottage, with the blonde bimbo. Honey Carmichael, spoilt little rich girl, with not two brain cells to rub together. Not that Crispin would care about that. It wasn't her brain he was interested in. Oh, no.

  She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the images of her husband and his tart writhing around in that bed, or maybe on the beach. It was secluded and completely private. Maybe they'd risk it. Crispin was usually up for anything, and Honey was so young. She'd have boundless energy and very few inhibitions.

  She sighed.

  'You are sure you are okay?' Gregorio's voice was loaded with concern. His attentiveness and obvious desire for her were like balm to her wounded soul.

  She reached over, depositing her drink on the ground, then held out her hand to him. He took it uncertainly.

  'You know, darling, you really are divine. I can't think why I wanted to wait 'til tonight. Put down your glass — that's right. Now, where did you say you'd like to rub that suntan lotion?'

  Chapter Nine

  There were noises coming from downstairs. Eden opened her eyes reluctantly. The room was still dark, and she felt as if she'd only slept for a couple of hours. What the hell time was it? She turned over and reached for her phone, pressing the button to see the screen. Six thirty! She only woke up at six thirty if Honey or Cain staggered into the house after a night on the town. No one at the Carmichael home surfaced before ten. Eden herself had got into a pattern of staying up 'til past one and then sleeping in 'til around nine. She was amazed she'd fallen asleep last night so early, but then, it had been a long journey. She could still use another couple of hours sleep though. She just hoped whoever it was down there would quieten down sharpish.

 

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