Never Too Late

by Alyssia Leon

Molly licked suddenly dry lips. “I’d better find Nan,” she muttered. “See what’s going on.”

  “Don’t worry.” Sophie planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  Molly raced the remaining distance to Rose Cottage. If Jake was here, would he be with Nan at the cottage or would he be in the big house? Was he looking for her? What on earth was she going to say to him?

  By the time she reached the cottage door, she was an out of breath, trembling mass of nerves. She paused with one hand on the doorknob, her legs unsteady. She needed to see him, had to. She had to make him realize how much she loved him, even if he chose to leave after that. With a deep breath, she opened the heavy wooden door and stepped inside.

  Voices reached her in the warm hallway, Nan’s and a man’s. Instant recognition hit and her heart sank to the floor. Slowly, she followed the voices to the living room.

  Martin and Francine sat huddled together on the small two-seater couch, each clutching a teacup and saucer, and a smiling Nan sat opposite them in one of the armchairs.

  Disappointment was a physical pain, but Molly forced a smile on to her strained features.

  “Molly!” Martin leaped to his feet, and depositing his cup and saucer on the coffee table, rushed over and enveloped her in a big hug.

  His exuberance broke through the chill surrounding her heart, and she chuckled and hugged him back, rejoicing in the genuine warmth she suddenly felt at seeing him again.

  Francine was right behind him, and when he finally released Molly, Francine caught her up in a hug of her own and kissed her on both cheeks.

  “We can’t thank you enough,” Francine said, tears shimmering in her beautifully made-up eyes. “Lucy told us everything you went through with Belinda. I know Martin wouldn’t have made it without your help.”

  Martin grinned, his eyes sheepish as he rubbed his scraggly beard. “Worst days of my life, no contest.” He gazed down at Francine with tender affection. “Thank god you were waiting for me on the other side.”

  Molly watched them together and her smile broadened. “I’m so glad you two found each other.” At least this was one well-deserved happy ending.

  “We’re all glad,” Nan said from the confines of her plump armchair. “There’s not enough time in the world to be living a miserable existence. It’s best to be with the one you love.”

  Francine glanced at Martin and smiled. “Yes, it is.”

  “It has meant a lot of changes, obviously,” Martin said as he and Francine sat down on the sofa again.

  Molly took the second armchair opposite them, sinking back into its depths. “You won’t be working in Appleby anymore. I know.” She tempered her words with a smile. Finding a new job was her problem, not Martin’s. He didn’t need to feel guilty about that.

  “Well… no, I won’t.” His features twisted in an apologetic grimace.

  Nan nodded. “Doesn’t make sense for you to be here. I’d have thought London would suit you better now.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Martin said. He turned to Molly. “I’m making my London office my base. I was actually hoping you’d still carry on working for me?”

  Molly’s jaw dropped. “In London?” she squeaked.

  “Yes,” he said with a smile. “I know this is all rather sudden, Molly, but I’d be lying if I said this transition would go smoothly without your help.”

  “London?” Molly glanced uncertainly at Nan. “I… I’m not sure I can.”

  “Nonsense,” Nan said matter of factly. “There’s no earthly reason for you to stay on in this place. It would do you the world of good to be somewhere more lively.”

  “But, Nan, what would you do? We’ll have to vacate the cottage soon and I can’t leave you all alone, even at Clara’s.”

  “A small suggestion?” Martin said. “I’d help you rent a flat in London, Molly. Perhaps you’d like to join her, Lucy?”

  Nan chuckled. “You couldn’t pry me from Appleby with a ten foot crowbar. I may have to leave Barrowdene, but I can find plenty to keep me occupied in the village.” She turned to Molly. “I’ve told you before. Don’t be worrying about me. It’s time for you to get out there and see the world.”

  Frowning, Molly looked at her. The thought of leaving Nan, even Barrowdene, everything that was home, had her stomach twisting in knots. But did she really want to stay on in Appleby, especially now that Jake was gone? This place held too many bittersweet memories. She looked at Martin’s eager jolly face and relaxed. He’d help her through. Besides, being with Jake had taught her she was capable of so much more.

  She nodded. “If Nan’s all right with it, I’d like to accept your offer, Martin.”

  “Wonderful,” he said, grinning. “I won’t rush you, but if you want to come over to our home there on Friday, I can help find you a place to stay.”

  She laughed. Friday was just two days away. Martin was never one to sit on an idea. But the sly thought popped into her head that being in London meant she’d be closer to Jake. Her laughter faded and she pushed the thought away in disgust. She was doing this for herself and no one else.

  “Has Jake been in touch?” Francine asked, startling her.

  “No… Why?”

  Francine glanced at Martin. “We’ve been trying to contact him. We wanted to thank him too. If it hadn’t been for his help, we wouldn’t be together now.”

  Molly sat up. “Really? What did he do?”

  Martin’s sheepish grin was back. “Kicked my ass, that’s what.”

  “And a good thing too.” Francine placed a hand over his. “Jake gave me a place to stay in the Lake District with some friends of his. It was so good of him. I wanted to go back there, but I hadn’t been for so long and I was scared to go alone. I had hoped to see him today.”

  “I think he’s in Europe now,” Molly said quietly. It didn’t surprise her that Jake had tried to help Francine, but a part of her hurt to know he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her what was really going on between Francine and Martin.

  Francine looked downcast. “Such a shame. Oh…” With a quick movement she scooped up the large handbag by her feet and rummaging through it, pulled out a thick brown envelope. “Jake’s office sent me this, Molly, for you.”

  “I’d completely forgotten about that,” Martin said.

  Molly frowned. Jake’s office would be sending her only one thing—an eviction notice. With an anxious glance at Nan, who was leaning forward with curiosity, she reached for the envelope and took it with an unsteady hand.

  All eyes were on her as she opened it. Several sheets of paper were inside and she pulled them all out in one go. She quickly scanned the short official looking letter on top of everything and gasped.

  Unable to believe her eyes, she flipped through the papers behind the letter: surveyor’s notes, land deeds, and details of an account set up in her name with a figure that made her eyes pop.

  “Well, what is it?” Nan asked, sitting forward even more.

  “I… I don’t understand.” Molly shook her head, her mind reeling.

  Martin reached for the papers. “Mind if I take a look?”

  She handed them over, and as he studied them, sat clutching her hands in her lap, hoping she’d been mistaken.

  “Good heavens!” He looked up with a grin. “You’re the new owner of Barrowdene, Molly. All you have to do is sign for it.”

  “Mercy me!” Nan plopped back into her armchair, one hand pressed to her bosom.

  Francine looked at the papers with excitement. “But that’s wonderful!” She jumped up and kissed Molly’s cheek. “Congratulations,” she said, before sitting down beside Martin again.

  Molly stared at them all with wide eyes. “But he can’t mean it,” she burst out. “Why would he just give me Barrowdene?” She looked pleadingly at Martin. “There has to be some mistake.”

  Martin shook his head. “It’s all legal and in writing. Barrowdene is yours, pending a signature.”

  �
��It’s a shock. I know.” Nan caught hold of her hand. “Give yourself time.”

  Molly could only stare at her, unable to understand what Jake must have been thinking to do this.

  “We’d best leave you with this, then.” Martin stood up, Francine following him. “I realize this changes things somewhat, Molly,” he said. “I’ll give you a call in a couple of days to see what you’ve decided about London.”

  She nodded numbly and rose to her feet. Yes, this changed things. But instead of ecstasy, all she felt was bleak desolation.

  She followed Nan into the kitchen after Martin and Francine had left, the papers clutched tight in her hand. “Say something.”

  “I don’t know what to say, child.” Nan leaned over the kitchen table and flicked on the radio. Her favourite blues filled the uncertain silence. She glanced at Molly. “This is a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “How could Jake just… give me Barrowdene?”

  “Sit down, and I’ll make us some tea. It’ll help put things into perspective.”

  Molly pulled out a wooden chair and sank into it, and placing the papers on the table in front of her, she sifted through them again. Her hands stopped on the bank statement. “Not just the house, but all this money too. It’s too much.”

  The kettle bubbled to a rolling boil and Nan took two mugs for their tea. Molly watched without really seeing. Anger slowly flared in her. She picked up the document with Jake’s bold signature etched into the paper in deep black ink and her gaze stopped on the blank line awaiting her own mark. It was like he’d dealt her a stinging backhander. Had he really believed she only wanted Barrowdene from him? He’d labelled her a gold-digger with a flick of his pen and she was damned if she accepted Barrowdene and damned if she didn’t.

  “We’ve never been ones for charity, us Kings.” Nan said, placing a mug of tea in front of her and slowly lowering herself into a chair. “We’ve always worked our way through this world.”

  Molly silently sipped her tea, but the hot liquid did nothing to calm the churn of feelings inside her.

  “Though I won’t deny it’s a darn sight better for everyone if you own this house, Molly. Some of those city folk who came with Jake on Saturday, they’d leave you shuddering in your grave. Not a precious clue among any of them how to live in a village and be a proper part of it.”

  An image of Elka Blom and her disdainful smile flashed up in Molly’s mind and she put her mug down with a thump. “Nan, do you really want to stay here at Barrowdene?”

  Nan sighed. “It was your grandad’s life. Wherever I go, it feels like a part of him is here. Of course I’d live out my days here if I could.”

  Molly nodded. It was Nan’s one wish, and now it was in her power to grant it. “Don’t worry, Nan. I’ll do what’s right for us.”

  “Remember Molly,” Nan said with a smile. “It’s not Barrowdene that’s important. I will always stay in Appleby because your grandad and dad are buried here. That’s my fate, and I chose it. But your fate is for you to choose. Just don’t let fear do the choosing for you.”

  * * *

  Jake swam to the far edge of the heated pool and leaning on it, stared at the night city below. Monte Carlo glowed like a dark basket of bright orange and yellow lights, with roads slicing through the middle like ceaseless rivers of white headlamps. Beyond the city, the dark curving waters of Port Hercule reflected the neon blue and purple underwater lights of yachts decked out for onboard parties. The nightlife was in full swing, but this high up, he was completely cut off from the noise and hubbub.

  This was the solitude he’d craved and the reason he’d booked the penthouse suite, but four days on and restlessness still held him in its vise-like grip.

  He kicked away from the edge and swam back slowly. Monaco should have reset his focus. His days on the hotel project were busy enough, but the endless nights saw him tossing and turning, a fathomless craving in his groin, and aching loss in his heart. He struck out with greater force over the last few metres. He had to rid himself of this mindless need. Maybe it was time to hit the town. There was never a shortage of eager partners out there.

  Gripping the pool edge, he hauled himself out. The night air was mild on his wet skin, and grabbing a thick towel from the rail, he dried himself, and raked quick fingers through his damp hair.

  The patio doors slid open with barely a sound and a white-haired man in a smart butler’s suit came out. He picked up the white towelling robe Jake had earlier discarded on one of the padded pool chairs and held it ready.

  “Merci, Arnaud,” Jake said, shrugging into it.

  Arnaud smiled and inclined his head before leading the way to the patio doors and waiting for Jake to step through into the elegant grey and white interior. “There is a lady, Monsieur Hennessy, wishing to see you,” he said once they were inside.

  Jake paused, one familiar face immediate in his mind. But it couldn’t be. “Her name?”

  “Mademoiselle Perrot.”

  Lilayni.

  Disappointment dragged at his heart, but he swept it aside, irritated. He would get a grip on this. The more important question right now was why Lilayni was here. “Let her up, Arnaud.”

  With a nod, Arnaud left, and Jake strode to the bar to pour himself a whiskey. He’d taken his first sip of the warming golden liquid when Lilayni entered, dressed for travel in casual beige trousers and a flowing blue tunic top, and pulling a wheeled cabin bag behind her.

  “Cheri, you are looking well.” She left her bag at the door and caught him up in an enthusiastic hug which he promptly returned.

  “You too, Lilayni, but what are you doing in Monaco?”

  She stepped back with a laugh. “You think I should not visit my cousin?”

  “That you should.” He looked pointedly at her cabin bag. “And you’re welcome to stay.”

  “It is not necessary. I fly to New York tonight.”

  His brows rose. “Damon?”

  “Oui.” She tucked a strand of loose red hair behind her ears and smiled wryly. “I love him, and I go to tell him, whether he wishes to hear or not.”

  Jake nodded. It had been hard this past month to watch the two people he cared so deeply about fall apart from each other. It had something to do with Sienna’s death, of that he was sure, but neither Damon nor Lilayni would tell him. They probably thought they were protecting him from things he’d rather not know, but he wanted nothing more than their happiness. Hopefully Lilayni would be able to make Damon see sense.

  He held up his whiskey glass. “A drink to your courage?”

  “Whiskey? Non.”

  With a smile, he returned to the bar and pulling a bottle from the wine rack, checked its label, then opening it, poured the deep-red liquid into a wine glass and handed it to her. “Chateau Latour. Just as you like it.”

  She swirled the wine and sniffed it appreciatively before taking a sip. “Ah, it is the good taste of home.” She regarded him for a moment. “I had another reason for seeing you.”

  Taking a sip of his whiskey, he indicated for her to precede him to the sitting area. “And that is?”

  “You,” she said, lowering herself elegantly on to one of the grey wool couches. “You are holding on to old ghosts.”

  “If you mean Sienna…” He frowned and took the identical couch opposite her.

  She nodded. “And allowing vultures to circle.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Elka is here in Monte Carlo. Did you know?”

  “Is she?” He took another slow sip, his expression a blank, not giving away the fact that he already knew.

  Lilayni sat forward, her eyes earnest. “There is a reason her husband left you and Damon in charge of his property. He did not trust her. And now she looks at you to take his place in her life.”

  “Lilayni, we manage those assets with Elka’s permission. She herself acknowledges she would be lost on her own. That doesn’t make her untrustworthy. And my relationship with her isn’t ope
n for discussion.” He looked at her pointedly. “Is this why you came all the way here? To warn me?”

  She glared at him, exasperated. “This is the problem! You are too ready to trust any woman who shows you big tears, but when one returns to you honesty, you run.”

  “I can always expect honesty from you, Lilayni,” he said with a smirk. “And I’m not running.”

  “Oh! I did not mean me. But you will get your honesty. And then you can throw me out. I will not care. But before I go, we will talk. Why did you leave Molly?”

  Irritation swept through him and he sat back, resting his glass on the couch arm. “You’re assuming there was something there to leave.”

  “I have eyes in my head. I can see. You were happy with her.”

  His grip on the glass tightened, and he willed his fingers to relax. “Then your eyes were deceiving you. You don’t have to feel sorry for her. Molly is more than capable of seeing to her own needs.”

  “Non, I feel sorry for you,” she said with a sad smile. “Now you tell the truth. It was fear, non? You think Molly will end like Sienna.”

  “That’s enough!” All the pent-up rage of the last few days surged through him and he leaped to his feet, almost spilling the whiskey in his hand. He stalked away to stare out of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the twinkling night city. “I thought Molly to be an innocent. I didn’t want her hurt…” he bit back the rest of his words.

  “You thought Sienna innocent too,” Lilayni said quietly, coming to stand beside him. “But she made her choices, and you could do nothing for her.”

  “I could have protected her better.”

  “From herself?” Lilayni shook her head. “You did not truly know her. She used you. The life you offered by your side, it was too boring. She wanted fame, all the lights on her. Molly is not that.”

  He bowed his head. In the end he hadn’t been under any illusion as to what Sienna wanted, but was Molly really any different? Did women ever offer love without conditions? At least in Molly’s case, he’d seen it early. Wasn’t Barrowdene what she’d really wanted?