by Sharon Booth
'Right,' he said, his voice flat with disappointment.
'I won't be long,' she said. 'Promise.'
'Take your time. I reckon it will be raining soon, mind.' He tried not to sound anxious and reached for the television remote. He didn't know what was on, and he didn't care. He needed something to drown out the chattering voice in his head that was telling him what an idiot he'd been. Of course it had meant nothing to her. She was young, rich, and attractive. She came from a different world to him. What did he expect?
He froze when her lips touched his. As they pressed harder, he found himself responding, in spite of his better judgement. Her hands cupped his face, and he pulled her closer to him. She melted against him, just for a moment, then she pulled away from him, leaving him confused and flustered.
'I promise I won't be long,' she said. Her voice was shaky, her eyes anxious. She seemed to be begging him to be patient, to understand. Except, he didn't understand. He didn't have a clue what was going on.
'Think a storm's coming,' he murmured, as she left the house, going God knows where for God knows what reason.
Eliot threw down the remote and walked over to the window. What was he doing? Daisy was right. He was an idiot who deserved everything he got. He'd been down this road before. He had to stop it before it was too late — before he'd fallen for her so completely that there was no way out. But the door was closing fast. He wasn't sure he could escape anymore, and the thought was terrifying.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Eden glanced at the yellow Beetle with regret as she passed it. She could hardly take the damn car, since she'd told Eliot she was going for a walk. She cursed Honey. What was the big emergency this time? And why did she have to keep ringing the farm phone? All right, it was impossible to get a mobile signal in the farmhouse, but to ring the landline, when Eliot or the girls could have answered! Honey had sounded so wired, Eden wasn't sure she would have had the foresight to pretend to be Freya. They were on dodgy ground, and Eden had a feeling time was running out.
'You have to come now,' Honey had insisted.
'Honey, I'm busy, and I've had a long and tiring day. I'm going to get into my pyjamas and watch some television,' she'd replied. Hopefully snuggled up with Eliot on the sofa, and then, please God, a delicious repeat performance of last night, she thought. It had, if anything, been even more wonderful than the first night they spent together. Things kept on getting better and better. They were learning about each other all the time, and it had been a voyage of delightful discoveries. She shivered when she remembered the look of wonder in his eyes as he'd explored her body last night. He'd called her, my love. It had made her go all gooey and tingly. Bloody Honey, dragging her out again when she could be having so much fun. 'It will have to wait.'
'It can't wait. Unless you want me and Crispin to drive up there and speak to you at the farm, you'll come here. Now.'
Eden had wanted to refuse, to call Honey's bluff. Surely, even she wasn't that stupid? But then, knowing Honey's temper and obstinacy, she wouldn't put it past her. And if she was being this demanding, something major must have happened.
It had been so hard to leave Eliot. She would rather have been with him than anywhere else on earth and having to come up with an excuse so quickly had been difficult, to say the least. A walk? Really? She was knackered. A walk was the last thing she needed, and the sky was definitely threatening rain. Seemed she had no choice, though.
Leaving the Beetle behind, she walked as fast as she could to Hope Cottage, thinking that, at the very least, Honey or Crispin had better have some violent illness, because if it was about bloody mineral water again, she'd kill Honey.
'Thank God. Come in.' Honey almost pulled her into the cottage and slammed the door behind her.
'I'm getting really fed up with this,' said Eden. 'This is the fourth day running you've made me come here. What with bottled water, the damn phone charger, and all the other things you simply can't live without, you're running me ragged. Not to mention the trip into Kirkby Skimmer I didn't want to make. Have you any idea how difficult it is to get away from the farm without the kids? And Eliot is —'
'Oh, sod the farm. Sod everything. Crispin's had a shock.'
'It couldn't happen to a nicer bloke,' Eden muttered, glancing round. 'Where is he?'
'In the kitchen, pacing.'
She wasn't wrong. When Eden went into the kitchen, Crispin was stomping up and down the room, muttering to himself and shaking his head.
'Is he having a breakdown?'
'I shouldn't be surprised,' said Honey. Since Eden had arrived, she seemed to have calmed down. She gave Crispin a look of contempt. 'He's a real wuss,' she said. 'One little message, and he crumbles.'
'One little message! I wish!' Crispin stopped pacing and glared at Honey. He waved the mobile in Eden's face and moaned. 'As if Lavinia's stream of texts and missed calls weren't enough to worry about!'
'Maybe if you'd grow a pair and call her to sort it, you wouldn't still be worrying,' said Honey contemptuously.
'And what am I supposed to say to her? She's demanding to know where I am. She obviously knows I'm not in Dorset. Her spies are everywhere, and now I've got this bloody Facebook message from Romeo sodding Lovegod. Oh, Christ, I think my blood pressure is out of control. It's all too much.'
'Who?' Eden frowned. 'Where have I heard that — oh.'
'Yeah,' said Honey. 'The interfering little shit who tipped off my father about me and Crispin in the first place. The entire reason our plans for the summer were altered, and we've both ended up in this dump.'
'What does he say?'
'That he knows I'm in Skimmerdale with Honey Carmichael, and if I don't leave the place immediately, he will sell the story to the papers. He claims to have pictures.' Crispin almost whimpered as he looked at Eden, a pleading expression in his eyes. 'He can't have pictures, can he? Oh, God. Lavinia will murder me. My career means everything to her. If I'm finished, she'll leave me. I'll be ruined.'
'You know, Crispin, I'm not sure you're aware of how pathetic you look when you're snivelling like this,' Honey informed him.
'And I'm not sure you are aware of how hideous you look when you're being a cold, heartless, one hundred per cent cow,' he replied.
'At least I have guts,' she snapped. 'You're the most pathetic excuse for a man I've ever met.'
'You're the worst example of womanhood,' he said. 'You don't care about anyone but yourself. Ever since we got together, it's been all about you. I should have run a mile in the other direction the day I met you. You're not worth the trouble.'
'Well, you're certainly not worth the trouble,' she said, her voice edged with fury. 'I only stayed with you to piss my parents off. Your reputation is deeply misleading. You're the worst lover I've ever had the misfortune to go to bed with.'
Eden left them to it. She couldn't stand much more. Wandering into the living room, she stared out of the window, thinking what a mess it all was. All this performance for two people, who, right then, couldn't stand the sight of each other. Some big romance this was. And Honey had openly admitted it was all to infuriate her parents. Typical Honey. Eden had suspected, even hoped, that letting the two of them be together would result in the end of the affair, and her plan had worked, but at what cost? Eden had been dragged into the whole mess, just so she could annoy Cain and Freya, and Eliot had been dragged into it, too. Even worse, so had the children, who had grown so close to "Honey" and wouldn't understand what the hell was going on when it was all over. She should never have slept with Eliot. It wasn't fair. He didn't even know who she was. And what if it was Honey he'd fallen for? What if the thrill of having someone from Jemima's world again was the thing that attracted him? Would he have fallen for Eden if he knew she was the daughter of a retired bus driver and a cleaner?
At some point, she would have to tell Eliot the truth, and the more she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that the sooner she told him, the better. He was a g
ood man, an uncomplicated man. The way things had become between them, he deserved to know the real Eden. If she wasn't good enough for him, well, that was a chance she would have to take, because he had a right to know who he was getting involved with before things went any further. She loved him too much to fool him for even another day. She would tell him tonight, as soon as she got home. She would sit him down, take a deep breath, and explain everything from start to finish. He would understand, surely? It wouldn't change how he felt about her — would it?
She realised how dark it had suddenly become and jumped as thunder rumbled overhead. From out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of red in the glow of ensuing lightning, and all thoughts of Eliot flew out of her mind.
That car. She'd seen it before. A red Mini. Where had she seen a red Mini? And what was a car doing parked up the lane so that it could barely be seen from here? There were no other buildings around.
As the clouds gave up the struggle and tipped the first of the rain onto the waiting landscape, a sudden thought occurred to her, and she turned and flew into the kitchen. Honey and Crispin must have sensed her alarm, as they stopped bickering and stared at her.
'What is it?' asked Honey.
'Do me a favour. Put the living room light on and stand in front of the window, talking.'
'What? Are you mad?' Crispin shook his head. 'If anyone was around they'd see us.'
'Exactly. Just do as I say, please. And, whatever you do, don't look at the window. I'll explain in a minute.'
They looked at each other, but obviously realised she was serious, because they did as she said.
Eden ran upstairs and made her way to the window of the master bedroom.
Someone was walking slowly towards the cottage. A man. He stopped a little away from the gate, watching transfixed as Crispin and Honey put on their show. There was something deeply familiar about him. Eden had no doubt he'd known where Crispin was. This was no coincidence.
She hurtled downstairs and called, 'Crispin! Quickly!'
Crispin, to her surprise, was behind her in a moment, and the two of them ran outside into the rain, obviously terrifying the man who turned and began to run towards the Mini.
'Get him!' Eden yelled. 'He's got something to do with all this.'
'Leave me alone!' The man struggled when Crispin and Eden grabbed him.
'No chance, sunshine,' said Eden. 'You're coming with us. You have a lot of explaining to do.'
****
Some game show played in the background as Eliot sat on the sofa, trying not to worry. The rain was lashing against the windows. Honey would be soaked. What was she doing out there, anyway?
He told himself to stay calm. Honey would be leaving in a week or so. Going home. There'd been no suggestion from her that she wanted to stay, that her plans had changed. He wouldn't ask her, either. If this was destined to be some sort of holiday romance, so much the better.
The thought came to him, though, that life at Fleetsthorpe would be almost unbearable without her. She'd made everything seem so much brighter. The girls loved her. George loved her. He loved her.
No! He shook his head, as if to deny it to some invisible presence. He didn't love her. Of course he didn't. How could he love someone he barely knew? Someone he didn't even fully trust. He didn't even trust himself when he was around her. He didn't understand her. She could be cold, bitchy, snobbish and cruel. Yet, she could be warm, loving, kind and fun. She could be passionate. Gentle. It was as if she were two different people at times. It didn't make sense. But then, hadn't Jemima confused and baffled him, at first, too?
At a knock on the door, Eliot stood, frowning, and went to answer it. He couldn't imagine who'd be paying him a visit at that time of the evening, in the midst of a storm. Daisy used the back door, and besides, she'd be working tonight.
He opened the door and gaped at the sight of the glamorous brunette, still wearing sunglasses in defiance of a summer storm. 'Can I help you?'
'Is he here?'
Eliot blinked, confused. 'Is who here?'
'Crispin.'
'Who the heck's Crispin? Think you've got the wrong house, love.'
She curled her lip at him and removed her sunglasses. 'This is Fleetsthorpe?'
Eliot nodded. 'Aye, but I don't know any Crispin.'
'Hmm. So, is Honey here?'
He felt the colour drain from his face as a sudden sense of foreboding washed over him. 'You'd best step inside. You'll get soaked.'
The woman reluctantly stepped into the hallway, her eyes widening as if she realised the house wasn't as bad as she'd feared. 'Honey? She's here, then?'
'Not right now. No.'
'So, where is she?'
'Gone out. Why? What's it to you?'
'I'll tell you what it is to me,' the woman said, glaring at him. 'I'm Crispin's wife.'
'Well, congratulations. Still no idea what you're on about.'
She peered at him, then an amused smile crossed her face. 'You really don't have a clue, do you?'
He straightened as his anger kicked in. 'Look, I don't know what this is about, but —'
'Then, let me enlighten you. Honey Carmichael has been having an affair with my husband, Crispin Cavendish. According to several people in that backwater of a village, this farm is where she's staying. I presumed Crispin was staying with her, but obviously not. He's somewhere in this village, though, and I want to know where. Now, what time will that deceitful little slut be home?'
Eliot's legs trembled, and he felt nauseous as he tried to fight the growing sense of panic. It couldn't be true. Not Honey. And yet, why not? Hadn't he half known it, anyway?
So, this was where she kept disappearing to — visiting this Crispin bloke. 'I don't know when she'll be back,' he heard himself saying. His voice sounded flat, emotionless as numbness moved in to replace the panic. Thank God for that. He knew how to cope with numbness. He was a master at it.
The woman tutted and looked out over the farmyard, not that he thought she was even seeing it. She was obviously trying to work out what to do next. Finally, she turned back to him, replacing her sunglasses. 'I'm staying at some grotty little hotel in Kirkby Skimmer,' she said, 'and I'm not best pleased about it. The Paradise Hotel, and there's a case for the Trade Descriptions Act if ever there was one. Tell that little bitch, she'd better hand over my husband within the next twenty-four hours, or I will go to the papers and tell them everything. And please, do make it clear to her that, by the time I've told my side of the story, his career will be finished, and so will she. Clear?'
Eliot nodded, unable to speak, and she stepped outside, glancing up at the dark slate skies. As he watched, she rushed back to her car, parked beside Honey's yellow Beetle, dodging puddles and trying her best to avoid the mud. Once she'd climbed inside, he shut the door and leaned against it, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Then slowly, he sank onto the floor and buried his head in his hands.
The storm had arrived.
Chapter Thirty
Honey's legs almost buckled from underneath her, as Eden and Crispin dragged the man into the living room of the cottage.
'Teddy!'
'You know him?' Eden and Crispin asked together.
Honey wondered which of the two of them sounded more astonished, as she and Teddy stared at each other in embarrassed silence.
'Well?' Crispin glared at her. 'Explain yourself. Who is he, and how do you know him?'
'I — I don't. Not really. At least —'
'Wait a minute.' Eden peered closely at Teddy before turning to Honey in shock. 'I know him.'
'You do?' Honey wondered how on earth Eden would know a charity shop worker. Unless Teddy's shop was in the Cotswolds. Honey had never been inside one in her life, but she supposed it was quite likely that Eden had. Her clothes were pretty appalling, after all.
Teddy was shaking his head at Eden, fear in his eyes. 'Please don't.'
Eden folded her arms. 'You've got a bloody nerve. I can't believe
you're here again, after all this time.'
'Eden, what the hell are you talking about?' demanded Honey.
Crispin sat down on the sofa. 'For God's sake, will someone please explain what the hell is going on around here?'
Teddy was trembling, but Eden wasn't exactly being her usual sympathetic self. 'Remember that evening I first met you, in The Red Lion?' she asked Honey.
'Of course I remember.'
'Please don't,' repeated Teddy. 'She won't understand. You've got this all wrong.'
'That man,' said Eden, giving him a poisonous look, 'was the journalist who was spying on you and Troy.'
'Who the hell is Troy?' said Crispin.
Honey stared at Teddy in horror. 'You're a journalist?'
'A journalist!' Crispin sounded faint.
'Please, Honey, I can explain.'
'So, you do know who I am! I told you I was called Eden!'
'You did what?' said Eden, horrified. 'Why?'
'Because you were Honey,' snapped Honey.
Crispin groaned. 'I've got a headache.' He leapt in fright when a sudden loud bang hit the front door of the cottage. 'Oh, Christ. Now what?'
'Don't answer it,' begged Teddy.
Crispin seemed suddenly determined to take control. 'No jumped-up journalist is going to tell me what to do,' he informed them, and he marched to the door and threw it open. 'Oh, fucking hell!'
'Nice to see you, too, darling.' Lavinia took off her sunglasses and gave him a peck on the cheek. 'I thought I'd never find you. The child does like to play hide and seek, doesn't she?' She gave Honey a look of contempt, and Honey returned the look threefold.