Secret Millionaire

by Kitty Alexander

  ‘That’s okay,’ replied Mark. ‘It’s no big secret. I think he’s happy enough. He always seems it. No doubt you’ll meet him at some point while you’re here. How soon can you organise things do you think? When will you be able to make a start? How many trainees will you bring?’

  As she wondered which question to answer first, Mark laughed dryly. ‘Sorry; too many questions.’

  Alexia sat down at a little table and took her notebook out of her jacket pocket. ‘I’ll get things organised as soon as possible,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring three trainees, if they’re all up for it.’

  ‘Bert?’

  With a pang, Alexia realized she hadn’t given Bert and his interview a single thought all day. ‘If he doesn’t get the job he went for today, yes. He’s a very good gardener. And perhaps Peter and Derek. Obviously, they won’t be able to commute from Nottingham. Is there anywhere they can stay in the house?’

  ‘At the moment, this is the only habitable room,’ he said. ‘But I can arrange to have a caravan delivered. There’s space round the side of the house. If you think that will be suitable for them?’

  What about me? she thought, not keen on sharing with three male trainees. Or Mark. ‘Would it be all right if I slept in here?’ she asked, looking out at the hills again, where a sudden shaft of sunlight was illuminating a large patch of purple heather.

  ‘Of course. I’ll make sure the electrician has the power sorted out by then. And I’ll try to arrange some curtains.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Alexia, imagining lying down and looking out at the stars before she fell asleep. ‘I’m an early riser anyway. You don’t have to bother about curtains. But a mattress would be good.’

  He smiled at her, his eyes teasing. ‘A mattress. I can see you’re going to be the demanding type.’

  Alexia began to smile – was on the verge of tipping over into laughter – but at the last minute she remembered he was a liar and pushed the smile away.

  There was a tense silence. In the distance, she could hear the thump, thump, thump of one of the builders using a hammer. Someone whistling.

  ‘It will mean quite a lot of time away from home for you,’ he said. ‘Won’t you be missed?’

  There had been something about his tone of voice. Was he insinuating that she might have a boyfriend who would be missing her? After the two of them had made love the way they had? ‘I will have to go back now and then,’ she told him coolly. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll make sure my trainees know exactly what they’re doing before I go. Now, I better get on. I’d like to take a look at that pond before I leave. Shall I meet you back at your car in half an hour? I’m sure you’re busy.’

  How good it would have been to be able to storm out, but there was the stupid ladder to negotiate. Then she had to wait on the landing because someone was carrying a load of timber up the stairs. When, finally, she got outside, it was to discover it was raining – the kind of soft, driving drizzle that quickly soaks you to the skin. Damn! Her raincoat was in her bag, in the mobile home. Going back in there felt like venturing into the lion’s den, but she had no choice.

  Quickly grabbing her coat, Alexia thrust furious arms into the sleeves. Then she quickly went back out into the rain, her boots squelching in the mud. The overgrown garden had transformed itself from a place of mystery and potential into a trap and a prison, branches and brambles clawing and plucking at her clothing. The pond, when she finally reached it, was stagnant and forlorn, huddling neglected in its hollow.

  Alexia pushed a pile of old leaves off one of the steps and sat down in the rain amongst the stench of rotting vegetation. This was too much; too much. Taking her phone from her pocket, she pressed the speed dial code for Laura, then quickly put the phone to her ear inside her hood.

  ‘Lex? Hi. How are you getting on?’

  ‘Terrible. This is a big mistake, Laura. There’s just too much to do here. It’s too big a project for us.’

  ‘But you love big projects!’ protested Laura.

  A big, fat raindrop dripped from Alexia’s nose. ‘Not this big. You should see this place – there’s months of work to do here. How will I be able to manage the gardens at the Centre too?’

  ‘Lex, sweetie, you’ve done an excellent job of training the trainees, in case you’d forgotten. And anyway, we can’t turn our back on the project – Mark’s our benefactor now. By the way, the first batch of computer equipment has just arrived. We’re busy opening boxes here. It’s so exciting!’

  ‘Alexia?’ Mark was calling her from somewhere near the house.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she told Laura.

  ‘All right, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do. Oh, and before you go, Bert didn’t get that job, I’m afraid. He’s a bit cut up about it.’

  ‘Oh, poor Bert…’

  ‘Yes. But he’s got the garden project now, hasn’t he? It’s an amazing opportunity.’ Laura was right, unfortunately. It was an amazing opportunity.

  The sound of rustling undergrowth signalled Mark’s imminent arrival. ‘Look, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’ Alexia said to her boss. ‘Have fun with those boxes.’

  ‘You’re getting soaked out here,’ Mark told her as she ended the call. ‘Come into the mobile to make your notes.’

  Sit in there, in that small space, with him? She’d rather sit in the scummy pond.

  ‘No, it’s all right, thank you. I’ve seen all I need to see. I’ll go back to Nottingham to draw up my plans. I’ll email them to you on Monday morning, and we can start work the following Monday if that suits you?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That will be fine.’

  ‘Will the caravan be here by then, or will I need to book the trainees into a hotel in Sheffield?’

  ‘No, I’ll arrange for it to be here.’

  ‘Good.’ The rain was coming thick and fast by now, pattering down on the pond reeds and penetrating the far recesses of her coat. Alexia made a pretence of looking at her watch, although it was a struggle to access it with the tight elastic on her coat cuff. ‘Now, could I have a lift to the station please? There’s a train back to Nottingham in forty minutes.’

  Mark looked at her. ‘All right,’ he said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mark was waiting – Bosun had found something interesting to sniff at over by the fence. The farmer had recently put sheep into this field, which meant the dog had to stay on the lead, and was subsequently not getting as much exercise as was ideal. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too lively for Iris to handle.

  It was seven a.m., and almost time for Mark to set off for work. It was also the day that Alexia and her team were arriving to start the garden project. The caravan was installed at the side of the house, and thankfully, the electrician had finally finished the rewiring, so Alexia would have some power. It wasn’t ideal, her using the top room as accommodation though – without a staircase, Mark had only been able to get a fairly thin mattress through the loft hatch. Maybe he ought to offer her his mobile home and use the top room himself?

  Although he knew, even as the consideration crossed his mind, that Alexia would refuse. It was difficult really, to believe that there had ever been a closeness between them. Her emails had been all been very business-like, and the journey from The Copper Beeches to Sheffield Station the previous week had been almost entirely silent. In the end, Mark had resorted to putting the radio on, and he never listened to the radio in the car, preferring instead to have space to formulate thoughts and strategies for work. But thoughts about Alexia were just torment. And as for strategies, what good were they when there was clearly no future for the two of them?

  It had been foolish of him to suggest this garden restoration project in the first place, but it was too late now. The suggestion had been made, and Alexia and her team would be arriving today. He would just have to make the best of it.

  ‘Come on, Bosun, time to go, boy.’ Reluctantly, the dog left whatever de
lectable scent was taking his attention and headed towards the stile with him. But before Mark could encourage him over it, his mobile phone began to ring. Taking it from his pocket, Mark saw from the caller ID that it was Iris.

  ‘Iris? Everything okay?’

  ‘No, Mark, sorry. I’ve just been offered a last minute hospital appointment. You know I’ve been waiting ages to have my eyes checked? I hate to let you down, but I really do need to go.’

  ‘That’s no problem, Iris. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘You are good. I’ll see you and Bosun tomorrow. Bye’

  ‘Bye, Iris. I hope you get on all right.’

  Mark pocketed his phone, reaching down to stroke Bosun’s head. ‘What are we going to do with you all day then, boy, eh?’ His schedule wouldn’t allow for him to pop back to let the dog out, and he could hardly ask Charlotte to do it. Maybe one of the builders would?

  Sighing, Mark climbed the stile, then helped Bosun over. It was hardly ideal to be beholden to the building team who seemed to him, to be making slow progress with the house. But then it was hardly ideal to own a dog when you owned an international haulage company either. Life was rarely ideal.

  Entering the wood, Mark walked past the copper beech trees, thinking once again of Alexia’s imminent arrival. How strange it would be to know she was only a few metres away, in the house – to know that, if circumstances were different, they could be in each other’s arms. Well, circumstances were not different. There had been plenty of opportunities to tell him the truth about her ex, but she had chosen not to do so. And why was he worrying anyway? Hadn’t he always known it wasn’t possible to combine a successful, committed relationship with the kind of hours he worked? It was difficult enough to accommodate the demands of a dog.

  * * * * *

  Alexia caught a glimpse of Bert’s surly expression in the driving mirror. He’d been slumped at the back of the Heath Centre minibus ever since they’d set off this morning, and it didn’t look as if his mood had improved now that they were almost at their destination. The traffic hadn’t helped. Road works on the motorway had meant that the journey had taken a lot longer than normal.

  If only Bert would talk about his failed interview. But after trying several times to speak to him about it without success, Alexia had been forced to give up. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring him. But he was the strongest member of her gardening team, and the project at The Copper Beeches was huge. Without Bert, Alexia knew she would really feel out of her depth, if only because Bert helped to keep the other two trainees in order. Peter was only young, and Derek, although he was older, did not have much in the way of initiative. Both were good at their work, but they were easily distracted and had to be kept an eye on.

  ‘Here we are!’ she said brightly, turning into Mark’s drive and hoping she didn’t sound too much like a primary school teacher. In reality, her own stomach was turning. She wanted to be here as little as Bert evidently did. Only Peter and Derek were enthusiastic.

  ‘Cor, what a huge house!’

  ‘That Mark must be well loaded to own all this.’

  As Alexia stopped the minibus and they all piled out, she looked for Bert’s reaction. ‘Garden’s like a bloomin’ building site,’ he grunted.

  Precisely.

  ‘We’ll have to remember to take some before and after photos,’ she said, still in that relentlessly bright voice. ‘It’s going to be an amazing transformation.’

  Bert grunted again.

  ‘Where’s our digs?’ asked Peter. ‘I’m dying for a cup of tea.’

  Alexia looked. ‘Mark said he’d get a caravan put around the side of the house,’ she said. ‘Yes, there it is. I think it will be open.’ Leaving her own bag in the bus, she led the way to find a simple, yet comfortable enough base for the three trainees, thoughtfully equipped with the basics to make both refreshments and a few meals.

  Thank you, Charlotte, Alexia thought, hoping she would have the opportunity to thank Mark’s PA.

  ‘All right, guys,’ she said. ‘Make yourselves a cup of tea and a sandwich, and I’ll see you out in the garden in half an hour. With so much to get done, we might as well make a start straight away.’

  ‘Sure thing, Alexia,’ said Peter.

  ‘Bags I get the room next to the bathroom!’ said Derek.

  ‘No way!’ protested Peter. ‘It’s mine!’

  Leaving them to it, Alexia smiled grimly to herself, wondering how Bert was going to fare with the two younger men. At least he would get a break at weekends, having opted to stay on site for the duration of the project. Unlike Peter and Derek, Bert did not have a family to return to.

  Just like you, Alexia reminded herself. Only your window boxes and your allotment will suffer from you being here. It was a depressing thought, and one Alexia determinedly tried to thrust aside as she came back round the side of the house. So what if she had a lack of commitments? It meant she could give this project the best of her attention – make a garden to be proud of. And pride in her work was everything. No matter if someone less than worthwhile was going to get the benefit of it.

  Trudging over to the minibus to fetch her bag, Alexia suddenly stopped. Was that barking, she could hear? Yes. There was a dog shut in the other mobile home. Mark’s mobile home. Ergo, Mark’s dog. Was that what he did with his poor dog while he was at work? Left the poor creature shut away for hours at a time?

  Alexia, who had grown up with dogs, had always wanted to have one of her own. But since she worked full-time and lived alone, this wasn’t possible. People who left dogs alone all day while they were at work were just plain selfish in her opinion. And that, apparently, included Mark. Well, she just wasn’t having it!

  Marching over to the mobile home, Alexia lifted the mat. Sure enough, the key was there. Quick as a flash, she used it, and flung the door open – to reveal a scene of total devastation. A pile of bedding was heaped in the middle of the sitting room floor. The feathery contents of a duvet had been disgorged all over the carpet, the corner of which had been pulled up and chewed. As Alexia looked at it all, aghast, a warm cannonball in the form of a golden retriever launched itself at her, the traces of feathers around its mouth confirming that it was responsible for the havoc.

  ‘Hello, there,’ said Alexia, quickly moving inside and pulling the door shut behind her. ‘Who are you, then? And what have you been doing? Still, it serves your master right, doesn’t it? Leaving you shut up in here, all on your own.’

  The dog wagged its tail, sending a storm of feathers sailing through the air, then went to the door and scratched to be let out.

  ‘You poor thing,’ said Alexia, opening the door, whereupon the dog promptly scooted down the garden path and disappeared into the undergrowth. Fearful that it might get out of the garden, Alexia followed. What had Mark said his dog was called? Brian? No, that hadn’t been it. Boden? Bosun! That was it. ‘Bosun!’ she called, and was rewarded with a distant sound of barking. The woods; the dog had gone into the woods. Since she didn’t know if the garden was secure or not, Alexia went on towards the trees. Passing the first copper beech, she was breathless from hurrying. ‘Bosun?’ Another bark led her to the last copper beech, where she found the dog with half his body inside a foxhole. Without any lead for the dog, Alexia was forced to take the belt out of her jeans to fashion a makeshift lead. As she fastened it through Bosun’s collar, she almost recoiled. The dog reeked. He was going to need a bath.

  ‘Come on, Bosun,’ she said miserably, tugging on the belt, and at last she was able to persuade him to follow her, out of the woods and back up the path to the mobile home.

  Bert and the other two men were waiting for her. None of them had thought to start unloading the equipment from the minibus. ‘Caught yourself a dog, Alexia?’ asked Peter cheekily.

  ‘Cor, he stinks something rotten!’ said Derek.

  ‘I know,’ Alexia replied, somehow managing not to snap. ‘Could you get the stuff out of the bus please? You can make a start at
clearing the area down there, just before you get to the pond. I’ll join you in a minute.’

  With no clear-cut plan for what to do about the dog, Alexia continued up to the house. Craig was just unloading some more timber from the van. ‘Whoops,’ he said when he saw Alexia with Bosun.

  ‘I heard him barking in the mobile home,’ Alexia explained. ‘When I let him out, he – ’

  ‘Made straight for the fox hole in the wood.’

  ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘He’s always doing it. Sorry.’

  Alexia was confused by his apology. ‘It’s not your fault.’

  Craig pulled a face. ‘Well, it sort of is, actually. I was supposed to let him out mid-morning. I forgot all about it.’

  That cut no ice with Alexia. ‘But he’s not your dog, is he? Therefore he’s not your responsibility. Anyway, where can I get him cleaned up?’

  Craig looked doubtful. ‘I’m not sure. They’re plastering the bathroom at the moment. Is there an outside tap? Either that, or leave it for Mark to deal with when he gets home.’

  Yes, that made sense. He was the one who’d made the decision to have a dog when his life style obviously didn’t suit it. ‘Have you seen a rope anywhere? So I can tie him up? He can’t go back in the mobile home like this.’

  ‘I’m not sure. Try the garage. It’s not locked.’

  Alexia found the garage, and inside it, an old washing line. Five minutes later, with Bosun barking a protest but securely tied to the stair rail of the mobile home, she went in search of Bert, Peter and Derek.

  Waist deep in brambles and weeds, Peter was hacking back the undergrowth with a machete, while Derek was using a strimmer. Bert was a little further off, wielding a pickaxe.