by Green, Cally
‘You’re determined to stand up for her.’ Roger’s voice broke in on his thoughts.
‘And why shouldn’t I? She doesn’t have anyone else.’
‘Is that what you see in her - her vulnerability?’ asked Roger curiously.
Mark was about to deny that he saw anything in her, but suddenly there didn’t seem to be any point. He let out a sigh. It was a rush of long pent-up emotion. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
Seeing how deeply Mark felt, Roger let up. ‘Look, it may be that you’re right. Perhaps she is someone who just crashed outside. After all, it wouldn’t have been easy for her to fool them at the hospital - ’
‘She never went to the hospital.’
Roger’s voice was suspicious. ‘Why not?’
‘Because she doesn’t like hospitals. And before you say anything, there could be any number of reasons for that. Her father died recently.’ He remembered the hesitant way in which she had told him about her father’s death, and knew that it had hit her badly. ‘It could be that he suffered a long illness and that she doesn’t like hospitals as a result.’
Roger was clearly not convinced, but he did not press the point. ‘Perhaps,’ he said noncommittally. ‘But all I’m saying is, be careful. OK?’
Mark’s dark mood lifted. He gave a wry smile. ‘Since when did you become my counsellor?' he asked.
Roger laughed. ‘I might as well make the most of the opportunity. I don’t suppose it’ll come again.’
Mark’s smile untwisted. He unfolded his arms and relaxed. Sitting on the edge of the desk again he put his hands on either side of him and leant back comfortably. ‘It definitely won’t. But now, I’ve got strict instructions from Emmy and Claire to invite you to dinner.’
‘I’d love to,’ said Roger ruefully, ‘but I have to get back.’
‘Is she a blonde or a redhead?’ Mark asked.
‘No such luck! I’ve had my nephew dumped on me. I’ve promised to take him to a musical. Something spectacular. Oh, well, I’d better be going.’
The two men rose.
Roger hesitated. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me . . . ’
‘Of course not.’
But Mark found that he did mind.
He just didn’t want to admit it.
Anna was enjoying herself. Her day out with Mark had been magical, and with each new day she spent in his company she was discovering more of the things that had made her fall in love with him in the first place. In a way it was strange, being engaged to a man she could not remember. But something about it felt so right that the strangeness paled into insignificance when she was with him.
She was just telling Emmy and Claire about their trip to the forest when some sixth sense made her look towards the door. She saw Mark standing there, framed in the doorway. He was watching her with such a strange expression on his face that she felt an irrational urge to go over to him and comfort him. But of course she couldn’t do that. Not in front of Emmy and Claire. It would seem odd.
‘Where’s Roger?’ asked Claire.
‘He couldn’t stay.’
‘Oh! What a shame! There’s nothing wrong, is there? Nothing he’s worried about?’
‘No.’ Mark came forward into the room. ‘He had business in Sheffield, and just thought he’d look in on his way back.’
‘That was nice of him,’ said Emmy maternally. ‘You’re lucky to have him working for you, Mark. Roger’s such a lovely boy.’
‘I’ll tell him you said so,’ Mark smiled.
They went on chatting about their day, but Anna was conscious of the fact that every now and again Mark would turn puzzled eyes towards her.
‘You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if there was anything troubling you?’ she murmured as they went in to dinner.
But Mark made no reply.
Chapter Six
This is heavenly, thought Anna, as she floated on her back in the middle of the lake. It was the following morning. The sky up above was a brilliant blue and the sun was shining. The day was already hot.
The only cloud on the horizon was Mark’s mood.
She had been looking forward to the swim, and thought he had too, but ever since Roger’s visit he had been difficult, as though he was in two minds about their relationship: friendly one minute and distant the next. Finally she had lost patience with him and, matching one of his bursts of sharpness with sharpness of her own, had struck out for the middle of the lake. And there she now floated, luxuriating in the feel of the water on her skin.
She turned over on to her front and began to swim slowly towards a large willow tree on the far side of the lake. Its branches drooped gracefully over the water. Once in its shade she turned and looked back towards the house. The scene was idyllic. Or would have been, if Mark had not been angrily splitting the lake in two, energetically swimming back and forth with an impressive crawl.
Whatever it was that was upsetting him, it must be something important. He had done at least forty lengths of the lake, and that was before she had stopped counting. She only hoped the exercise would work it out of his system - whatever it turned out to be.
As she watched, he finally stopped, dousing his head and neck with water and running his hands over his slicked-back hair. The sight of him was heart-stopping. His arms were firm and his chest muscled; not with the bulging muscles of a bodybuilder, but with the well-toned muscles of an athlete. And that was the man she was going to marry . . .
She pushed herself away from the willow and struck out towards him. The morning was far too lovely to waste.
His scowl as she approached was not welcoming, but she ignored it and, seized with a sudden spirit of mischief, she thwacked! the water with her hand, sending up a leaping wave that doused him all over again.
‘Why, you . . . ’ he said, annoyed. And then suddenly his eyes lit with a mischief to match her own. ‘So! Splash me, would you?’ he asked as his face broke into an unwilling smile. ‘Two can play at that game!’
Knowing what was coming, she flicked over onto her back and kicked up a shower of spray, the movement carrying her out of reach whilst drenching him again.
He let out a throaty roar. ‘This means war!’ He launched himself after her, eyes alight with the thrill of the chase, and she drove herself more powerfully through the water, laughing and giggling as she swam away from him. But her strokes were no match for his, even if she hadn’t been almost incapacitated with laughter, and she felt his hand grasping her ankle, pulling her back towards him with an inescapable grip.
‘No! Not fair!’ she laughed, as he hauled her to him and crushed her against his chest.
‘All’s fair in love and war,’ he said, laughing into her eyes.
‘And which is this?’ she asked teasingly, abandoning the struggle and wrapping her arms round his neck.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘You tell me.’
But she was not about to let his mood become dark again. Laughingly, she said, ‘Both!’ And then, taking him completely by surprise, she dived between his legs and swam under water to the far side of the lake.
She turned round, blinking the water out of her eyes, but couldn’t see him anywhere. So, he could swim underwater too. She peered down through the water, trying to see his shape. If he wanted to take her by surprise, he wouldn’t find it easy. But the water wasn’t clear enough for her to see far.
‘I know you’re under there,’ she called. ‘You won’t find me easy to catch!’
There was no reply. The water was ominously still.
Could she have misjudged what he would do? Had he decided to swim to the far side of the lake? She looked across the water, but couldn't see anything. The surface was unbroken.
She began to feel uneasy. He had been under there for a long time.
‘Mark?’ She called hesitantly.
No reply.
She began to swim across the lake - only to have him burst out of the water and catch her up in his arms!
‘Rotter?’ he teased her, mocking her language.
She struggled in his arms.
‘No need to do that,’ he said, his eyes laughing. ‘I’ll let you go if you want to. Do you, Anna? Do you want to be let go?’
She let out a low groan. ‘Why do you always have to call my bluff?’
He kissed her, a short, delicious kiss, before turning his head and kissing her again, his mouth approaching hers tantalisingly from the other direction.
‘I thought —’
- kiss -
‘ — you’d —’
-kiss -
‘— drowned —’
-kiss -
— she protested.
‘Oh, no,’ he teased her, his mouth moving down to her neck. ‘You won’t get rid of me as easily as that!’
She wondered fleetingly what it would be like to make love to him in the water, but all such thoughts were driven out of her head a minute later when Emmy’s voice called across the lake. ‘Breakfast!’
Anna looked towards the house. Claire was already sitting on the terrace, sipping a glass of orange juice, whilst Emmy was standing by the French windows, a coffee pot in her hand.
‘Goodness,’ said Anna. ‘I’d no idea it was so late. We must have been out here a lot longer than I’d realised. Come on, it isn’t fair to keep them waiting.’
She struck out for the shore and he swam after her, joining her as she towelled off and then settled down to breakfast.
‘Has Mark always been so moody?’ asked Anna.
Mark had finished his breakfast and had gone upstairs to dress, whilst Claire had gone off for a walk, but Anna had remained on the terrace with Emmy and was sipping her second cup of coffee. She savoured the aroma, as well as the taste, of the freshly-roasted beans.
‘No.’ Emmy sounded surprised. ‘No, I wouldn’t say he was moody. Have you found him so, dear?’
Anna nodded. ‘Most of the time things are fine.’ A lot better than fine, she thought to herself, without saying so out loud. ‘But sometimes . . . ’
‘You haven’t had an argument, have you?’
‘No.’ Anna shook her head. ‘At least, not one I can remember. I suppose we might have had a falling out before my accident. In fact, I’ve wondered as much a few times. Sometimes he seems - distant.’
Emmy hesitated.
‘What is it?’ Anna asked.
‘I’m sure it’s nothing . . . ’
‘But there is something?’
‘It’s just that - ‘ She seemed to come to a decision. ‘Well, I’m sure you know all about it anyway. That is, you would know all about it if you could remember everything. You see, this isn’t the first time Mark has been engaged.’
Anna put down her coffee cup and pulled her towelling robe more closely round her. It had got suddenly colder. A breeze had sprung up.
‘It all seemed so suitable at the time,’ said Emmy, not noticing the change in her expression. ‘We were so pleased, Claire and I. We’d always wanted Mark to settle down, and had tried to introduce him to suitable young women - you see, we were always conscious of the fact that he didn’t have any parents, and so we tried to take on that rôle. Perhaps we tried too hard at times, but he never resented it. Or, at least, if he did, he never let us see it. He went along to all the parties in the neighbourhood, and we were always entertaining here, but somehow he never seemed to find anyone who was just right. ‘She finished her coffee. ‘Of course, I’ve often thought that his money didn’t help matters. It may sound trite, but it’s true that money can’t buy love. And it’s also true that money attracts the wrong kinds of people. Which is why we were so delighted when he met Janine.’ Emmy sighed. ‘She really was a lovely girl.’
Anna felt herself shrinking. ‘What happened?’ she asked.
Emmy pursed her lips. ‘I’m not altogether sure. They seemed to be getting on along so well together. They were trying to decide on a date for the wedding. Janine had already ordered her gown. And then it was called off.’
Anna swallowed the last mouthful of her coffee. It was bitter and cold. ‘Did . . . did Mark call it off, or did Janine?’
Emmy shook her head. ‘Again, I don’t know. He never talks about it. But you see, if he’s moody with you it could be that he’s remembering his first engagement, the one that went wrong. It’s bound to leave its mark. Perhaps he even worries that the same thing might happen again.’
It was a plausible explanation, and yet it seemed too simple. Mark’s moods were too erratic to have been caused by something in the past. Weren’t they? She felt instinctively that they were caused by something in the present, but what it was she did not know.
It was clear that Emmy did not know either, and neither, she suspected, would Claire. It was just something she would have to try and work out for herself.
And with Mark, if he would let her.
‘Does she -’ Anna didn’t want to ask the question, but something compelled her. ‘Does she live around here? Janine, I mean.’
‘Oh, no, dear. She lives in London. She only visited here a couple of times. And it was all over more than a year ago.’
For which fact Anna was grateful. Because, despite the fact that Janine belonged to Mark’s past, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy at knowing he had already been engaged. She felt a sudden urge to ask Emmy what Janine had been like: blonde, brunette, tall, petite, pretty, not pretty: but she resisted it. There were some things in life it was probably better not to know.
‘But I’ve kept you here chatting and you’re not even dressed,’ said Emmy remorsefully. ‘No, don’t bother with that, dear,’ she said, as Anna began to clear the plates away. ‘I can see to it. You go on in before you catch your death.’
Anna smiled. Despite the breeze it was a glorious morning and she was hardly likely to catch a cold! But Emmy’s motherly fussing felt comfortable and she accepted it in the kindly spirit in which it was meant.
Mark was troubled as he walked into the drawing-room later that morning. He knew he couldn’t let things go on as they had been doing, but he was finding it difficult to know how best to confront the problem. If Anna had faked her accident then he didn’t object to her spending time at Little Brook, whatever her reasons might be. But if she was the innocent victim of an accident, as he was beginning more and more to believe, then he had no right to keep up the pretence.
‘Oh, Mark.’ Claire called out to him as she put down the phone. ‘That was Cousin Roddy. He’s had another fall. Quite a bad one this time. His foot’s in plaster and he’s feeling down in the dumps. Would you and Anna mind if Emmy and I spent a few days with him? I don’t like abandoning guests, but Roddy’s not getting any younger and something like this could sink his spirits. I don’t want him getting depressed again: it took him a long time to get back to normal the last time he was ill - you know how he’s always hated being cooped up indoors.’
‘Of course not.’ Mark tried to keep the relief out of his voice. With Emmy and Claire out of the house it would be so much easier to confront Anna, and deal with whatever situation his challenge provoked. ‘When do you -’
‘Did I hear the phone?’ Emmy asked as she followed Mark into the room, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Although she had not been able to hear Claire’s conversation from the morning room she had been able to tell that something was wrong by Claire’s tone of voice and, throwing down the magazine she had been looking at, she had hurried to hear the news.
‘Roddy,’ said Claire succinctly. ‘He’s had another fall. I said we’ll go and stay for a few days.’
‘Oh, dear. He does so hate being ill in any way. And what a time for it to happen. But still, it will give Mark and Anna some time to themselves. I’d better go and see to the packing. When did you say we’d be there?’
‘Tomorrow morning. In time for lunch.’
‘Good. Then that gives us time to prepare, without being in a r
ush.’
As they left the room, Mark knew that the next twenty-four hours would make or break his relationship with Anna. And he found himself wondering whether the next-four hours would bring him and Anna closer together, or thrust them violently apart.
Freshened up after her swim, Anna was in the morning room. Mark had gone into Nottingham to make some preliminary arrangements for the opening of the new branch of Raynor Enterprises, whilst Emmy and Claire were busy packing for their unforeseen visit to Roddy. With time on her hands, Anna was looking at a collection of magazines on local life. It was a surprisingly complete collection, going back over many years to the very first issue. Mark’s family were obviously rooted in the area and proud of the county in which they lived, a county Anna hoped to learn more about. She looked along the shelves of magazines, noting that they were meticulously arranged. The first issue was to the left of the top shelf, whilst the most recent one was on the bottom shelf, in the middle, with room for future issues to the right. As she ran her fingers along the spines, she noticed that one was missing. She was surprised, wondering what had happened to the missing month.