‘This could be the part of the programme that fails,’ Victoria said, as she stared in amazement at the model’s flexibility. She took a deep breath, threw out her arms, and reached for the floor. To her surprise, her fingertips touched the quarry tiles. She tiptoed them to her left foot, breathed, finding this action more difficult than touching the ground, and then tiptoed her fingers across to her other foot. ‘Bloody hell,’ she murmured. ‘That’s a killer.’
‘Once you’ve done that,’ the model continued, ‘return your hands to the middle, and walk them underneath your body.’
Bent over, straining to inhale, but giving the manoeuvre everything she had, Victoria’s fingers lost touch with the floor. ‘That’s awful,’ she groaned, allowing herself a moment to hang.
‘It looks pretty cool from where I’m standing.’
Like a rag doll possessed by a spirit, Victoria sprung up, and swivelled in the direction of the voice. A man, almost as broad as he was long, was leaning against the door frame, grinning.
‘Who the hell are you?’ she said. Thank God the blood had already rushed to her face from being upside down. Any other redness could be blamed on that.
‘Tommy Stone. Chris’s … well, I never know what to call myself … manager, cook, dogsbody. All of the above.’
‘You’re Tommy?’ He looked nothing like he did on TV. ‘Chris said you’d taken leave.’
‘Of my senses?’ Tommy laughed. ‘Yeah. Well, I came back. He needs me more than he knows.’ He strolled into the living room and gawped at the TV. ‘What on earth is this? Aerobics?’ He turned to Victoria. ‘Is this how you keep so trim?’
She wasn’t practised in the art of flirting, but Tommy’s attempt didn’t bypass her. What was it Juliette said about compliments? Accept them graciously. ‘Thank you, but that’s not what this is about.’ She grabbed the remote and shut down the TV. ‘I was trying something out for my son.’ She saw Tommy’s eyes widen.
‘Your son? Why isn’t he trying it?’
‘He’s four. I thought I’d see how I got on with it first.’
Tommy’s face screwed up, like a foam puppet, squashed by its owner’s hand. ‘Is he overweight, or something?’
Taking a seat on the sofa, and collecting together her papers, Victoria said, ‘No. There’s not much to him at all.’ She placed the remote on top of her research.
‘Then what?’ Tommy, uninvited, sat next to her. ‘Is he an adrenalin junkie?’ He raised his palm. ‘No! Wait! I’ve got it! You’re a double act. You’re a ventriloquist and he’s your dummy.’ He flashed a set of brilliant white teeth.
Victoria frowned. ‘How did you reach that conclusion?’
‘It’s a reasonable explanation based on how I found you a moment ago, all bent over, waiting for life to be pumped into you.’ He stopped talking and grimaced. ‘That didn’t come out how it was meant. Sorry.’ He shied away from Victoria, and pulled a sad puppy face, which, within seconds was replaced with a beam so wide, Victoria was tempted to count precisely how many teeth made a set.
They sat for a moment in silence, neither party moving, until Tommy cocked a leg up onto the sofa and twisted round to face Victoria. ‘So, you know who I am, but who are you?’
She extended a hand. ‘Victoria Noble. I’m an old friend of Chris. He’s invited my son and me to stay here while my cottage is repaired.’
‘Right. Chris to the rescue. Always the hero.’
‘He was. He saved my son from a collapsed ceiling. If Chris hadn’t been there, I doubt Seth would be now.’ Victoria refused to think about that possibility.
‘I meant giving you a roof over your head, but it must have been awful. Seth is your son?’ Tommy drew his fingers together and leaned in.
‘Yes.’
‘And he wasn’t hurt in the accident?’
‘No.’
Tommy reclined. ‘So, these exercises aren’t physiotherapy then?’
Victoria smiled. ‘No.’
‘Good grief.’ Tommy ran his hands through his hair. ‘I’m going to rip up one of these tiles in a minute, and squeeze the blood out of it. It’s got to be easier than getting information from you.’ He liberated the remote from Victoria’s research and aimed it at the TV. ‘Don’t make me do the splits.’
Victoria couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I’m of a mind to make you,’ she said. ‘Fair’s fair, after all.’
Tommy dropped the controller and leapt to his feet. ‘Oh. It’s like that, is it? You’ve shown me yours, so I must show you mine?’ He flung his arms above his head and swung them down towards the floor. ‘Impressed?’ he asked, craning his neck to look at Victoria. ‘No? How about this then?’ He attempted to flatten his palms to the ground. ‘Closer? What … about … now?’ He squeezed out the words, struggling for breath. ‘Fit … as … a … butcher’s … Oh. Sod it.’ He walked his hands to his knees, rested for a moment, and then pushed himself upright. ‘That really hurt.’
‘I know. I don’t think it’s for Seth.’
Tommy rubbed the back of his legs before resuming his seat. ‘Wise decision. He’d beat us hands down, for want of a better phrase.’ He laid his arm out along the back of the sofa. ‘Right. A deal’s a deal. What’s all this in aid of?’
Victoria adjusted the sheets on her lap while considering what harm could come from sharing her concerns with Tommy. ‘Okay,’ she said, sighing. ‘Seth has trouble controlling his temper.’ She paused and reconsidered her words. ‘No. That makes it sounds as if it’s his fault, and it’s not. I have trouble relating to him. I’ve been researching probable causes and possible solutions.’ She put the sheets on the floor. ‘I’ve not learned enough to make an informed decision yet.’
Tommy whistled. ‘Wow. You’ve got your work cut out. We’ve been trying for two years to get through to Rick. I imagine his circumstances are completely different, but still, working out how a child’s mind ticks is a tricky business.’
Victoria agreed. ‘The thing is, I’m the problem where Seth’s concerned.’
A firm hand landed on her shoulder. If she had room to move away, she would.
‘I feel for you.’ Tommy gave Victoria a couple of friendly pats, and removed his hand. ‘I mean, I’m not a parent, but I’m godfather to Rick, and I was to Todd too, and I’ve known them all their lives. Todd and Lacey’s deaths hit me hard, but Rick, well, he’s lost his twin, and he’s lost his mother. He was lucky not to lose his father.’
‘Lose his father? Was Chris contemplating … ’ The unsaid word hung in the air between them.
Tommy plucked it down. ‘Suicide? No. He went off the rails for a while. Withdrew from society, didn’t eat, well, nothing of any substance, didn’t talk except to me, and couldn’t face Rick. I guess he was a reminder of everything he’d lost.’ Tommy fell silent.
That wasn’t the story Chris had shared with her. ‘It must have been awful,’ Victoria said, trying to work out Tommy’s angle. ‘I saw all the footage at the time. They’ve been showing it again.’
‘I know. He looks a right state.’
‘But he’s found his way.’
‘I guess. He was determined to move here. Thinks a fresh start is what Rick needs.’
There was doubt in his voice. Victoria questioned him. ‘But you don’t?’
Tommy pulled a face. ‘It’s not my place to think. I do what I’m told. Go where I’m directed. Straighten out the mess.’
‘What mess?’ What did Tommy know? Was he party to the information Victoria had paid to keep buried?
‘Every mess. I’ve taken the blame for most of them, too.’ Tommy retreated into the corner of the sofa. ‘Chris would have lost his licence twice over if I’d not said it was me at the wheel.’
That didn’t sound right. Chris was a responsible driver. Victoria looked at Tommy. ‘What happened?’
Tommy shook his head. ‘No. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’ve learned how to keep quiet over the years.’ He became interested in the buttonholes along the arm of the sofa, and then shot a glance at Victoria. ‘Look. I don’t know the story between you and him, but by the way you said you were an old friend, I’m guessing you were a girlfriend.’
The turn in the conversation made Victoria’s hackles rise, and she hesitated before replying. ‘Yes. He knew me as Vicky Paveley. It was before he went to America.’
Tommy sat bolt upright. ‘Vicky Paveley? You’re Vicky Paveley?’ He tapped his fingernail on a hard button, his face full of contemplation.
‘You say that like you know me.’ Victoria eyed him with suspicion.
‘I do. Sort of.’ He cast his eyes to the floor. ‘I met Chris within days of him arriving in LA. We were both working as odd-jobbers at Harley Film Studios. That’s where he met Lacey.’ He looked up, his eyes round. Bulbous. ‘Don’t Google Harley Film Studios.’
Victoria knew why he’d said that. She’d been aware of the studio’s reputation for some time, even before it was exposed as a company producing blue movies. They’d concealed the more lucrative side of their business behind the acceptable front of making adventure films.
‘I know about Lacey’s career, Tommy. What surprises me was how it never made headline news when she and Chris got married.’ She watched for a glimmer of recognition. ‘Or when Harleys were found out.’ Nothing. ‘Go on.’
Tommy inhaled slowly and deeply, covering her hand with his. ‘I’m telling you this so you know what you’re getting involved with. He bragged about you. He said he’d had a girl the night before he left England. He said he had sex in the sea and on the beach, and had grazes on his knees as proof. There was more, but you don’t need to hear it. Eventually, your name found its way into the boast.’ He clutched her hand. ‘I’m sorry. Chris Frampton is not the man you see on the big screen. He’s no hero.’
Chapter Twenty-One
With tears budding and growing, Victoria whipped away her hand, grabbed her papers, and ran out of the room. She passed Rick in the kitchen, as she made her way to the annexe.
‘Mrs Noble? Are you okay?’
As she scrambled to open the heavy fire door, he appeared beside her, holding a tissue. He pressed it into her hand.
‘Did you fight with Dad?’
She tried to lift her eyes; tried to thank him for his kindness, but she couldn’t risk it. She was on the verge of losing control, and if she opened her mouth, her words could ruin Rick’s life.
‘Hey, Rick. Let her be, man.’
Victoria froze. Tommy had followed her in. She continued to face her door, not wanting to see concerned eyes or sympathetic smiles.
‘Tommy. You’re back.’
She heard the scuffling of footsteps and the slapping of backs. Reconciliatory hugs?
‘Where’d you go? I missed you. Well, I missed your cooking.’ Ricky’s undulating timbre.
‘Listen to you. When did you get so chatty?’ Tommy had a gruff element to his voice Victoria hadn’t noticed in the lounge. It made her skin crawl. Trusting her instinct was a new sensation, but it was screaming out for her to avoid this man.
She’d heard enough. She closed her door, locked it, and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths. ‘In through the nose. Out through the mouth.’ That’s what the model on YouTube had said.
She dumped her papers in her bedroom, unhooked her coat from the back of the door and went in search of Seth. She needed reassurance he was safe. Last she’d seen, he was outside. Using the external door, she peered out and called for him. No answer. She stepped onto the slabbed patio and marched round the corner. Rick’s bike was there, as was a bucket and two cleaning cloths, but no Seth.
‘Come on,’ she muttered. ‘Where are you?’ She was desperate to stop Tommy getting to him first. As she looked across to the woods, she saw Seth running out of them and towards the front of the castle. He was waving, but not at her. Something or somebody on the driveway had his attention.
Despite her swift turn of speed, Victoria reached the gravel last. There, standing with his hands on his hips, a crash hat at his feet, and two boys looking on, was Tommy.
‘Hey, Vicky. Is this your boy? He’s a lot like you with those curls.’ He extended a hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Seth. I’m Tommy.’
Seth backed away, as Victoria drew level. She positioned herself in front of him. ‘It’s Victoria, and I was hoping to talk to Seth about you, before you met him.’
Tommy looked up. ‘Oh. Is this to do with that thing you told me? Sorry. I should have thought it through, but I wanted the boys to see my new motorbike.’ He stepped aside. ‘Isn’t she a beauty?’
As Victoria appraised the great lump of metal, a small hand slipped into hers. She squeezed it, and held it securely. There was something about Tommy that Seth didn’t care for either. Rick also shifted nearer; close enough for Victoria to put her arm round, which at that moment, felt like the thing to do. She didn’t understand the subtleties of what was going down, but it was plain to see Tommy was the only one happy with his recent purchase.
‘Rick, go and get your dad. Tell him Tommy’s home,’ she said.
‘I can’t.’
‘It’s okay. He’ll be glad he’s back. Go on.’
Rick’s reluctance to leave her side was evident, but after an encouraging, guiding hand on his back, he skirted round the motorbike and ran into the house.
‘What do you think, Seth? Would you like to hear it purr?’ Tommy straddled the wide, black leather seat, turned the ignition and poked his finger at a button. The roar reverberated around the courtyard scaring the birds from the trees, and Seth further behind Victoria.
‘Switch it off. Now!’ Chris stormed onto the gravel, the force spitting stones in every direction. They were as mad as hell, too. He made a grab for the key, but Tommy got there first.
‘Settle down, mate.’ Tommy deadened the engine. ‘I got a second helmet in case you fancied a spin. I don’t mind sharing.’
Victoria watched as the men squared up to each other, neither willing to look away – a Mexican stand-off at Hope Cove Castle. She saw Rick monitoring the situation from the entrance hall. He shook his head, disbelief smeared across his face.
‘No motorbikes,’ Victoria heard Chris say. ‘I don’t want it here. Get it off my land.’
Now she understood. And now she knew for certain that Tommy was there to cause trouble. Why remained a mystery. She shielded Seth from the rowing men, took him through the main entrance, and signalled for Rick to follow. Once she had them both safe inside the annexe, she closed the door, and ushered them into the living room.
‘Right, boys. Why don’t you choose something to watch on TV, and I’ll see if I have anything more appetising than candles in the kitchen.’ She smiled, hoping her levity would distract them from what they’d witnessed. ‘I think I’ve said before, Rick, I’m a terrible cook. I’m not sure how this candle cuisine will work out. Of course, there’s a chance I could set the cooking world alight with my latent brilliance.’
Rick slumped onto the sofa, still shaking his head, and Seth sat beside him. Solidarity.
‘I don’t like candles,’ Seth said.
‘Can’t say I’m keen.’ Victoria stooped to see Rick’s expression, but he stuck his chin to his chest, and covered his face with his hands.
‘What’s wrong with Rick?’ Seth picked up the remote control and pressed the on button.
Victoria eased herself onto the small, tiled coffee table. Her notes had mentioned how children with attachment disorder struggled with empathy. She gave herself a moment to recall the advice. Explain emotions to your child. Help him to identify each feeling. ‘Rick’s sad,’ she said. Seth understood sadness. He’d not wanted to move to the c
astle because his Pops would be sad. It wasn’t the example she wanted to use, but it was all she had. She was about to speak, when Seth beat her to it.
‘You get sad.’
For a heartbeat, his eyes broke away from the TV and connected with Victoria’s. She caught her breath. ‘We all get sad sometimes.’
‘Did I make Rick sad?’ He was back to watching the screen.
Rick lifted his head and looked from Victoria to Seth.
‘No,’ Victoria said, quickly. ‘I think it was hearing the motorbike. It scared him a little. That’s right, isn’t it, Rick?’ She raised her brow. It wasn’t an accurate description of why Rick was suffering, but it was enough for Seth to handle.
‘Yeah. It’s not you, bud,’ said Rick, wiping his nose with his hand.
‘Your dad does that.’ Victoria reached for the tissue box behind her, and passed it to Rick. ‘Repaying your favour from earlier.’
He took a tissue and blew his nose. ‘Thanks. What you watching, Seth?’
‘Tom and Jerry.’
‘Cool.’
‘I don’t like Jerry.’
With the boys more settled, Victoria left them discussing the intricacies of good versus evil, and as she entered the kitchen, someone tapped on the door. She prepared herself for confrontation, expecting Tommy to be the other side, but stood easy when she saw the delivery man with three boxes of groceries. ‘Excellent timing,’ she said, signing his electronic receipt pad. ‘You’ve saved us from candle stew.’
‘That’s good. I find the wick gets stuck in my teeth.’ The man smiled and then carried the crates one-by-one into the kitchen. ‘Everything all right out the front? With the two blokes, I mean.’
Victoria was touched by his concern. ‘Yes, thank you. They’re old friends.’
‘Fighting over a motorbike.’ He tutted. ‘I reckon you should serve them candle stew.’ With a nod and a smile, he hopped over the threshold and went on his way.
Victoria poked her head into the courtyard and listened. Chris and Tommy were still arguing. She slammed shut the door and concentrated on finding something less waxy for lunch.
Follow Me Follow You Page 22