by Fay Keenan
‘Sounds good to me,’ Matthew replied. ‘We can always watch TV in bed.’
‘Good plan,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
Matthew watched Anna mount the stairs, and then, feeling the waves of tiredness washing over him after one of the most emotional days of his life, rubbed a hand over his exhausted eyes. Jonathan, Caroline, Jack’s estate, all would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight he just craved sleep and his wife’s tender embrace. On legs that could barely carry him, he, too, headed off to bed.
47
Caroline had to admit to finding the lack of mobile communication rather liberating after her initial panic about ruining her phone. It felt like a digital detox. She was beginning to worry about The Cider Kitchen though, having been away for over a week now, but Emma had, after all, reassured her that she’d contact Jonathan with any urgent issues. Because she wasn’t being constantly distracted by emails, calls and texts, she managed to get the redecoration of the flat done in record time, and feeling restless, she decided to head back to Somerset. If the worst came to the worst she could shut the door on her living quarters and force herself to take the time off, but in truth, she was missing the restaurant and she wanted to touch base with Jonathan about how they were going to deal with Paul Stone. She resolved to go and see Jonathan as soon as she got back to Somerset. She’d at least be able to tell him that she’d arranged to sell her flat in order to pay back the money she’d given to Stone. The estate agent had told her it should go fairly quickly and that meant the holes in The Cider Kitchen’s finances could be plugged.
Of course, this would all be for nothing if Carter’s still decided to dismiss her. She had to find a way of convincing Jonathan that she was trustworthy, that with Stone out of the way and no longer a concern she would continue to pour her heart, soul and time into The Cider Kitchen. She was faintly optimistic that she’d be able to convince Jonathan, but whether she’d be able to keep Matthew on side once he found out the truth, she wasn’t sure.
Packing her things into the car, she checked her watch. It would take just over two and a half hours and then she’d be home. She couldn’t believe how keen she was to get back to The Cider Kitchen, and Jonathan.
*
At around the same time as Caroline was setting out for Somerset, Jonathan woke the morning after Jack’s funeral with an utterly mind bending hangover. The spare bed at Cowslip Barn was a touch lumpy these days, but he’d crashed out after a hot shower and not woken up until Anna knocked on his door with a cup of honey sweetened tea.
‘Morning, gorgeous,’ he said, cracking open his eyes and struggling to sit up in bed.
‘How are you feeling?’ Anna asked as she deposited the mug of tea on the bedside table.
‘You know that squashed badger on the main road a few days ago?’ Jonathan yawned. ‘Marginally worse than him.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Anna said wryly. ‘That calvados is lethal at the best of times. And from what Matthew said, there wasn’t a lot left in the bottle he found you with.’
‘Guilty as charged,’ Jonathan said. He sat up in bed and with a shaky hand reached out and took the mug of tea. ‘I kind of drank it as I walked up the hill. This’ll help, though. Thanks.’
‘Ellie wanted to come in and wake you up at about six a.m., but I managed to deflect her,’ Anna said, perching on the side of the bed. ‘I figured you could do with the rest.’
‘Thanks. Again.’ Jonathan, with an effort, swallowed a mouthful of tea and tried not to grimace. He couldn’t stand sweetened tea but he appreciated the thought. He figured his blood sugar levels must be non-existent after last night.
‘Help yourself to some of Matthew’s clothes,’ Anna said. ‘That wardrobe is chock full of jeans, shirts and jumpers that he won’t get rid of. Something’s bound to fit.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ Jonathan said, ‘I’ll just fling my suit on from last night. I don’t have far to go.’
‘It’s still wet,’ Anna said. ‘And it’s going to need dry cleaning. The mud up on Wavering Down’s awful this time of year.’
‘He told you where he found me, then.’
‘Yup.’ Anna’s look of concern made Jonathan feel a flush of shame. ‘You could have ended up with hypothermia.’
‘I know. Yet again, it was a bloody stupid thing to do, wasn’t it?’ Jonathan dropped his gaze to his mug. ‘But don’t worry. I’m not going to do it again. Matthew gave me a bollocking last night, from what I can remember of our conversation, and as usual, he’s right. There’s no point pushing the self-destruct button; Dad wouldn’t have wanted that. And Christ knows I’ve got enough to sort out without trying to drown myself in drink, or on the hill in a storm.’ He looked back up at Anna, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Caroline since last night?’
Anna shook her head. ‘I’m getting a bit worried, actually. It’s not like her not to be in touch. Emma said she rang about a week ago, and that she’d said call again in a day or so, but she never did.’
‘So, she might not know about Dad, then?’ Jonathan felt a sense of relief. Surely, if Caroline had heard about Jack, she’d have at least sent him a message?
Anna shook her head. ‘I guess not. Obviously, wherever she is must have lousy reception.’
Jonathan took another mouthful of his tea and then swung his legs out of bed. Clad only in his boxer shorts, he wondered for a moment if he should feel self-conscious in front of Anna, but she wasn’t embarrassed, although she did look concerned.
‘You’re getting thin,’ she said as he crossed the room to the wardrobe.
‘I thought it was forbidden to ogle your houseguests,’ Jonathan quipped, and surprised, found that he actually sounded like himself.
‘Oh don’t worry,’ Anna replied. ‘I just don’t want you wasting away. My interest is purely in your welfare.’
‘I won’t,’ Jonathan said. ‘There’s been enough inaction. I’m going to get dressed, force down a bit of toast if you don’t mind me nicking some, and then get on with things.’ He opened the wardrobe and pulled out jeans, a shirt and a jumper. The jeans were a little loose, but they’d do until he got home. Somehow he didn’t think Miss Pinkham and the other elderly ladies of the parish would appreciate him sauntering home in just his boxer shorts.
‘See you downstairs in a minute,’ Anna replied. And then, before she left the room, ‘I’m so glad you’re feeling a bit better.’
‘You know me,’ Jonathan replied sardonically. ‘Nothing gets me down for long.’
As Anna left the room, Jonathan’s face fell again. He’d acted so convincingly he’d almost fooled himself.
*
Caroline crossed into Somerset in record time, and since she didn’t have her phone to provide the music for the journey, she’d been tuning and retuning the car radio to the local radio stations as she went. As she drove through the different counties the accents changed but the type of music tended to stay the same and she quite enjoyed the snippets of local news.
The car’s clock ticked over to midday just as she reached the Shepton Mallet to Cheddar road; the national news headlines finished and the local ones commenced. At the third headline, a local interest piece in a particularly sombre tone, Caroline hit the brakes and swerved into a layby. Surely she’d misheard? Surely, if anything so serious had happened, she’d have known? Somehow? According to Breeze FM, which served the whole of Somerset, yesterday Little Somerby had buried local legend and cider magnate, Jack Carter.
Caroline’s heart was hammering so fast she had to take several deep breaths. When she was sure she was calm enough to drive, she started the car again; she had to get to Jonathan.
48
Jonathan got back to Orchard Cottage and thought about getting changed, but the house was cold and Matthew’s jumper was warm. Wandering into the kitchen, he took a mug from the tree on the side and filled the kettle to make coffee. As the water began to boil, Jonathan started t
o wonder what would happen to Orchard Cottage. He supposed the solicitors would be sorting all that out fairly soon, but he did think that perhaps it was time for him, finally, to find a place of his own.
He was also irritated that he’d failed to deal with Paul Stone, despite the upheaval of Jack’s death. Even if Caroline hadn’t contacted him about Jack, he owed it to her to try to sort things out. But how? He could easily rearrange the appointment, but Stone was clearly not an idiot and might just see him as a time waster after he cancelled the first time. What could he do? He shook his head in frustration; he must have killed more brain cells than he’d thought with all that calvados.
Just as he was crossing the hallway to the living room there was a tap on the front door. For a moment he ignored it; he didn’t feel like talking to anyone. But then a flash of red through the small frosted glass panel in the door against the backdrop of the autumn sky caught his attention. He froze. He must be imagining things, surely? Some fallen leaf from the beech trees in his father’s garden had caught against the glass in the rain. It couldn’t be her. Could it?
The knock came again and that settled it. Beech leaves most certainly didn’t do that. Hastening to the door, stumbling on the carpet runner in his rush, he tugged it open and there, standing on the doorstep of the cottage looking more uncertain than he’d ever seen her, was Caroline.
‘I came as soon as I heard,’ Caroline said softly. ‘Jonathan, I’m so, so sorry.’
Jonathan didn’t say anything. He pulled her through the front door, feeling her sag against him as he kicked the door shut behind them, and then took her in his arms. Trembling almost to hyperventilation, he held onto her tightly, feeling as though he might shatter into a million pieces if he let her go, even for one second.
‘Thank God you’re back,’ he murmured when he finally released her. ‘I was so angry with you for not getting in touch, but now you’re here I’m just relieved.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Caroline’s voice shook. ‘The reception in my flat is crap, and then I dropped my phone in a pot of paint so I decided to wait until I got back here before ordering a new one. The call box on the High Street was vandalised and you’ve no idea how difficult it is to find a working phone box in the twenty-first century. Every bloody man and their wife has a mobile these days. And I couldn’t even buy a cheap pay as you go one, as I don’t have a clue what everyone’s numbers actually are. Although,’ she slapped her forehead, ‘I suppose I could just have rung The Cider Kitchen again. I was so screwed up over Paul Stone that I wasn’t thinking straight and the thought of not being contactable, especially by him, was really quite good. Until I heard the news about your dad on the local radio when I was driving home this morning, I didn’t have a clue he’d died.’ She looked up at Jonathan, her eyes full of apprehension. ‘If I’d known sooner, I’d have been home like a shot,’ she said softly. ‘Believe me, Jonathan, I don’t want you to think I didn’t care.’
‘I’m just glad you’re here now,’ Jonathan said as they broke apart.
‘How did it… I mean, how did he…’
‘His heart gave out,’ Jonathan said. ‘It wasn’t surprising; he’d been having trouble for years. He looked like he was asleep when I found him.’
‘How awful for you,’ Caroline said softly. ‘I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.’ She reached up a hand to Jonathan’s face. ‘And I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.’
‘You’re here now,’ Jonathan replied. ‘That’s the important thing.’ A shadow crossed his face, not unnoticed by Caroline.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘There’s something you should know.’
Caroline immediately looked wary. ‘What?’
Jonathan ran a hand down Caroline’s arm and took her hand in his. ‘I haven’t exactly managed to sort out Paul Stone. What with Dad and everything, my grand plan to scare him off had to be put on hold.’ Seeing her concern, he continued quickly. ‘But don’t panic. I’ve got a better plan.’ And, at that moment, he knew exactly what he needed to do. If Caroline would go for it, that was. ‘Look. Come and have a coffee, and I’ll run my idea past you.’
Caroline nodded. ‘All right. But if I don’t like it, it doesn’t happen.’ She started to wander towards the kitchen.
‘Oh, I think you’ll like it,’ Jonathan said. He could feel his strength returning now that Caroline had come back, and was almost feeling like his old self again. Jonathan the wheeler dealer had reasserted himself, and if this worked, it would mean Paul Stone was out of the picture permanently. ‘Do you think you’d be able to call him and arrange a meeting?’
‘When I get a new phone,’ Caroline said. ‘They’ve got to send me a new SIM, too, as it was trashed by the paint.’
‘Great. Get onto your phone company today. Then you need to arrange to meet him.’
‘OK,’ Caroline said warily. ‘Where, exactly.’
Jonathan grinned widely, yet again reminding Caroline of the Cheshire Cat. ‘Somewhere very, very specific. Let me tell you what I have in mind…’
49
Agatha Christie couldn’t have set up a more atmospheric meeting point, Caroline reflected a week later as she checked over the glasses in the makeshift bar area in the main barn on the Carter’s Cider site. The murder mystery evening tomorrow would be the crowning achievement of The Cider Kitchen’s year, provided tonight went to plan. Gino and Emma had really outdone themselves with a gorgeous celebration menu of trout tartare, slow braised pork in cider and a selection of glorious desserts including a foraged blackberry fool (Gino had made sure he froze baskets and baskets of the fruit back in September when they’d been in full, opulent glory down the Strawberry Line) and a wide selection of local cheeses. The two chefs had gone from strength to strength, and Caroline really hoped that, with Paul Stone dealt with, she could count on their long term support in the restaurant. And if she got this evening right, he would be out of her life forever. She hoped that Matthew would be as sanguine about the situation as Jonathan had been optimistic that it would work. It was her word against Stone’s after all, and if things went south, he could get very nasty indeed. She needed to make sure he never came back after tonight.
Jonathan had managed to convince Matthew not to pursue the investigation into The Cider Kitchen’s accounts for the time being. She had no idea what had been said, but she knew she was living on borrowed time if she didn’t get rid of Stone once and for all. Because tomorrow night’s event had been planned for two months, she’d thrown herself back into the restaurant, and the preparations for the murder mystery evening were almost complete. And as the final part of the puzzle, Stone had agreed almost too easily to meet her. He was either desperate for money or wanted to lull her into a false sense of security.
Caroline glanced at the makeshift bar area, which tomorrow night would be filled with bottles and bottles of the farm’s cider, sparkling wine and calvados. The stage was set for a truly momentous occasion, Anna having written a masterful retelling of the tale of the body in the vat, but the dangers she was facing tonight were far more immediate than a one hundred year old murder mystery; Paul Stone was dangerous, and she had to get him away from this place before someone got hurt.
The main meal was going to be served in The Cider Kitchen after the night’s drama had taken place, and Caroline had checked and double checked the details, ensuring that it would all run smoothly. Now, waiting for Stone in the darkness of the barn where she had insisted this meeting took place, she shivered in the November air. ‘Come on,’ she muttered as she pulled her jacket closer round herself. She wasn’t good in the cold at the best of times, and it felt as though he was deliberately keeping her waiting. She could sense his amusement at her request that they met here; on Jonathan and Matthew’s territory; at the heart of their empire. It appealed to his sense of humour, she supposed, to try to humiliate her here.
‘Good evening, Caroline.’ Caroline jumped as the voice whispered indecently in her ear from b
ehind her, his breath hot on her neck. ‘So good of you to meet me here.’
Caroline stepped forward, repulsed by the contact. ‘Take the money and go,’ she said. ‘I’m out of here after tomorrow. Carter’s have sacked me. So you can stay away, too.’
Stone laughed. ‘Can’t stand the heat of your own kitchen? That’s a good one.’
‘I’m warning you, Paul,’ Caroline sounded braver than she felt. ‘When I’ve gone, you’d better not come back to Little Somerby again. I’ve given you what you wanted, so you can stay away from these people. They know I’ve been stealing from them. I’ve lost everything.’
‘What a terrible shame,’ Stone said, his voice suggesting exactly the opposite. ‘Although it is a shame our arrangement couldn’t have lasted longer. I reckon there could have been a lot of potential in keeping you at that place for as long as possible.’ Starting at the sound of the barn door opening behind him, he turned. An expression of irritation crossed his features. ‘I thought I told you to come by yourself.’
‘I’m sure you did, mate, but I’m looking for Caroline, not you.’ Jonathan opened the barn door and stepped inside.
‘What are you doing here?’ Caroline snapped, exactly on cue. Stone needed to think that Jonathan was there was just by chance, although she was deeply uncertain that he’d actually buy into that.
Feigning innocence, Jonathan smiled briefly at Caroline. ‘I just wanted to check over a few last minute details for tomorrow night. And when you weren’t at the restaurant, I figured you’d be over here checking the bar supplies.’ He glanced at Stone. ‘I suppose you’re the debt collector, are you? Certainly explains a few anomalies in the restaurant’s books lately.’
Caroline felt the breath being knocked out of her as Stone grabbed her and pulled her back towards him. ‘Don’t do anything stupid. I’m here to collect what she owes me. Leave us to it.’
‘I can’t do that.’ Jonathan’s voice was bleak. ‘The Cider Kitchen is Carter’s property you see, so if you’re taking from Caroline, you’re taking from me, too.’