by Penny Jordan
‘Well, in order to make that a viable proposition, a new ring road would have to be built, and you can just imagine the cost of it...’
‘Mmm...but if it keeps drivers like Mr Sexy Mouth off the road...’
‘Like who?’ her father questioned.
Katie flushed a little. Now what on earth had prompted her to use that particular description of him out loud?
‘Er... Nothing,’ she denied hastily, quickly turning her attention to the files her father was showing her.
CHAPTER TWO
‘JENNY CRIGHTON IS giving an informal supper party in a few weeks’ time,’ Guy gave his cousin the date, ‘and she’s invited you to go along with us, Seb. You’ll enjoy it,’ he encouraged when he saw the way Seb was frowning.
He had called round to see him expressly to deliver Jenny’s invitation as well as to see how his cousin had settled in at Aarlston-Becker.
‘Shall I?’ Seb challenged him.
‘Which reminds me,’ Guy added before Seb could continue, ‘Chrissie said to tell you that you’re more than welcome to come round and dine with us any time you wish.’
‘Thanks, I really do appreciate the offer, but right now I’m so involved at work...’ Seb stopped and shook his head. Despite his misgivings about returning to the town of his birth, Seb had to admit that the sheer scope of the work he was involved with at Aarlston was proving enormously challenging and satisfying. The company was right at the forefront of research into and the creation of a new generation of drugs.
‘I had planned to drive over to Manchester that weekend to see Charlotte, but it seems she’s organised to go away with a group of friends, which means...’
‘Which means that you’ll be free to accept Jenny’s invitation,’ Guy told him firmly. ‘You’ll enjoy it. Saul is bound to be there. Have you met him yet? He’s head of a section of the Aarlston legal department and...’
‘Yes... I was introduced to him the other day. Nice chap...’
‘Have you found a house that appeals to you yet?’ Guy asked him.
‘Not so far. Ideally I’d like somewhere large enough for Charlotte to have her own space when she comes to stay, which means somewhere with two bedrooms and two bathrooms, but I don’t really want something quite as large as a three- or four-bedroom house, from a practical point of view if nothing else.’
‘Mmm...well, there’s a large Edwardian house on the outskirts of town which was recently converted into a series of luxury apartments, although I think most of them have already been sold. From the sound of it one of them would suit you ideally.’
‘Mmm...who are the agents? It’s certainly worth looking into,’ Seb agreed.
The small terraced house he was currently renting was only two streets away from the one he had lived in as a child and Seb was finding staying in it faintly claustrophobic. His mother had moved away to live with her widowed sister following the death of Seb’s father and Seb had no immediate family left in the town, but it seemed that everywhere he turned he was confronted with the Cooke name and the Cooke features, battalion upon battalion of assorted aunts, uncles and cousins.
And as for the Jenny Crighton supper party, that was something he would have preferred to have got out of attending but he suspected that there was no way that Guy was going to allow him to do so.
There was a certain something in Guy’s voice when he mentioned Jenny Crighton’s name that made Seb wonder if those rumours about Guy’s feelings for Jenny before Chrissie had come into his life had been just mere rumour. Whatever the case though there was no doubt about the fact that he loved Chrissie now.
* * *
‘MMM...THAT LOOKS INTERESTING,’ Olivia commented as she walked past Katie’s desk and saw the estate agent’s details lying there.
‘Who is the prospective purchaser?’ she asked curiously as she studied photographs of the elegantly shaped Edwardian rooms and the sweeping views of the grounds that surrounded the newly converted apartments.
‘Me, hopefully,’ Katie told her, adding ruefully, ‘although the price they are asking is rather high.’
‘Can’t you bargain them down?’ Olivia suggested practically.
Katie shook her head. ‘I doubt it, there are only two apartments left.’
‘Mmm...well, I can see why they’ve sold so well, two double bedrooms, each with its own bathroom and dressing room, a large sitting room, dining room and good-sized kitchen, and those views...’
‘Yes, and because this one is on the top floor it’s got its own balcony,’ Katie told her.
‘I went to view it with Dad last night and I must say that I was really impressed even if it’s still an awful lot of money, but with Mum and Dad so generously offering to help me out I can just about afford it.’
‘Well, you certainly won’t lose out by buying it,’ Olivia told her, ‘not with Aarlston-Becker expanding at the rate it is and the demand for housing expanding along with them.’
‘True... I see we’re getting an increasing number of farming clients applying for change of use in planning permission for some of their agricultural land.’
‘Yes, and there’s been a lot of controversy about it with a huge continuing debate in the local press. Those against any kind of new building on existing farmland are claiming that there are plenty of infill sites which should be used up first, while those who are in favour of granting planning permission insist the infill sites simply aren’t adequate to cope with the growing demand for housing, stating that the town’s prosperity is too closely linked with Aarlston to risk the threat of the company moving elsewhere because their employees can’t find homes.’
‘I should imagine that argument is something of a double-edged sword,’ Katie murmured thoughtfully.
‘Very much so,’ Olivia agreed. ‘The old die-hards are bitterly opposed to the Aarlston presence on the outskirts of the town, claiming that it threatens its identity as a traditional market town in the centre of an agricultural area.’
‘It’s going to be a long-running battle, I suspect.’
After Olivia had left, Katie picked up the telephone receiver and punched in the number of the estate agents. There was no point in trying to persuade them to get the developers to drop the price of the apartment, she would just have to bite the bullet and offer the price they were asking. The apartment was, after all, perfect for her in every way, and if Olivia and her father were to be believed it would ultimately appreciate in value and prove to be a good financial investment.
While she was on the phone to the agents she decided that she would also arrange to look over the apartment again so that she could take proper measurements. Her mother had offered her some pieces of furniture she herself no longer needed including some very pretty antiques, but she would need to buy new carpets and curtains if the purchase went ahead.
* * *
SEB FROWNED AS he studied the details of the apartment he had looked over the previous evening. On the top floor of the original Edwardian house it was one of a pair and ideally suited to his requirements. Guy had been right about that, it was exactly what he wanted even if the price was a little on the high side—not that that was a prime consideration for him—it was easily within his price range.
He had phoned Charlotte to tell her about it and she was going to travel to Haslewich from Manchester today after her classes had finished in order that she could see it. He had given her directions so that she could get a cab there and find it, and had arranged a time to meet. Afterwards he had promised to take her out for dinner.
One of the reasons Sandra had been so comfortable about accepting George’s overseas posting had been because they had known that the live-in, sixth-form private college where Charlotte was studying, which specialised in her chosen subjects—and where she had begged her parents to be allowed to go—placed a huge p
riority on its students’ welfare and safety. It had been agreed that she could go, but only after a long, reassuring discussion with the school’s principal about the precautions they took to supervise the students and ensure their safety. Charlotte would, also, have the benefit of members of her father’s close-knit family on hand to turn to should she ever need to do so.
That of course had been before Seb himself had been headhunted by Aarlston-Becker and everything seemed to fall into place for him to be near his daughter.
Reaching for the telephone he punched in the numbers of the selling agents to confirm the appointment he had made to re-view the property this evening with Charlotte and to tell them that he was prepared to offer the full asking price.
The next stage of the purchase would involve him finding himself a solicitor and once again he suspected he would be wise to accept Guy’s advice and instruct Jon Crighton to act for him.
* * *
KATIE GLANCED AT her watch. Time for her to leave if she was to meet the agent on time. Tidying up her desk she reached for her mobile phone, popping it into her bag. They were having a spell of good weather with long sunshiny days and high temperatures, which made the wearing of traditional formal office clothes too heavy and uncomfortable.
Instead, aided and abetted by her mother and her cousin, Katie had paid a visit to Chester, which she had combined with a brief but very enjoyable lunch with Luke Crighton’s wife, Bobbie, and a whirlwind shopping trip that had resulted in the purchase of what she had complained to her mother was virtually a completely new wardrobe.
She had felt even more guilty about the extravagance of her purchases when her mother had insisted ‘these are my treat, Katie.’
Now though, as the elegant cut of the smart black linen mix, button-back dress swirled softly round her legs, she had to admit that she was glad she had allowed herself to be persuaded. The dress was smart enough for the office without being too stuffy or formal. She had also bought a complementary jacket to go with it, and a couple of wrap skirts which could also be worn with the jacket in addition to one of several tops in matching tones.
It had been a long time since she had had any new clothes. Although her work for the charity had not involved working at the front line, she had nevertheless been conscious of the fact that a huge discrepancy existed between her comfortably affluent Western lifestyle and those of the people they were trying to help, and besides...
She could feel the back of her throat starting to tighten with emotion. What had been the point in making herself look attractive and allowing herself to feel womanly and sensual when she already knew that the man she wanted to be those things for would not and could not ever be hers?
Perhaps it was one of those ironic twists of their twinship that her own unrequited love for Louise’s husband, Gareth, should echo the love Louise had once had for a married man. But then Louise had found love with Gareth and although Katie doubted that she would ever find a man to match him, she knew, too, that for her own inner peace and happiness she had to find a way of moving her life forward and of leaving that love behind.
Katie walked towards the window of her small office and stared out into the busy town square. To one side of it stood the church and running parallel to it but outside her view was a prettily elegant close of Georgian houses where her father’s aunt Ruth lived with her American husband, Grant, whenever they were over in England.
The other three sides of the square were filled with a jumble of mixed-era buildings, Tudor wattle-and-daub cheek by jowl with Georgian town houses. The square itself had, thanks to the determination of its townspeople, retained much of its original medieval aura even if the stocks were now purely decorative and the original well had been turned into an ornamental fountain.
As young girls she and Louise used to call to see their father on their way home from school, specifically on ‘pocket-money’ days, hoping that he might be persuaded to add a little extra to the permitted allowance. They had giggled over the boys as they sat side by side beneath the trees on the bench donated by past worthy citizens. Together they had visited Aunt Ruth and helped her with her innovative displays of church flowers. Together they had attended regulation church services. Together they had cycled through the square to the small antiques shop their mother had once half owned with Guy Cooke. Together...
As twins they had always been close, even though temperamentally they were in many ways so very different. Together they had gone to university and it had been there that they had both met Gareth Simmonds, who had been one of the course lecturers.
Gareth, with whom she had fallen quietly and idealistically in love...
Gareth, who epitomised everything she had ever wanted in a man... Gareth, who was so kind, so calm, so gentle and perceptive... Gareth, who loved her sister, her twin... Gareth, who could never be hers...
The view below her wavered and swam as her eyes filled with tears. Quickly she blinked them away. She had promised herself when Louise and Gareth married that she would find a way to stop loving him, that she would make herself accept him simply as her brother-in-law, as her beloved twin’s husband, but every time she saw him the ache of loneliness and pain she felt at seeing the two of them so happy together was still there. She knew that Louise was hurt by her rejection of her constant invitations to go and stay with them, and she knew, too, that the gulf that was developing between the two of them disturbed her parents, especially her mother, but what could she do? What could she say? There was no way she could admit what the real problem was. And now there was the additional pain of seeing Louise with her new baby—hers and Gareth’s child.
A small bitter smile twisted the softness of her mouth. Was she destined always to be wanted by men who were already committed to someone else; to always be ‘second best’? She knew that Gareth would never approach her with a view to an illicit affair the way her ex-boss had done. He loved Louise far too much for that. He was so totally unaware of Katie’s own anguished feelings that it seemed to her, in her present state of low self-esteem and self-respect, that it was almost as though she didn’t deserve to be loved or treated well, that something about her actively encouraged men to think they could treat her badly.
No man would ever have suggested to her twin that she should have a seedy, hole-in-the-corner sexual relationship with him. No man would dream of suggesting it to any of her female cousins either, she was sure of it. Even Maddy, her brother Max’s wife, who had always been regarded as the most downtrodden and to-be-pitied member of the family because of Max’s appalling uncaring behaviour towards her, had turned out far stronger and determined than any of them could ever have imagined. Look at the way she had taken control of their marriage and of Max following his return home after his attack.
At last year’s wedding of Bobbie’s twin sister, Samantha, all the family had remarked on how much of an adoring husband and father Max had become. He was even taking on his full share of parenting following the birth of their third child, another little boy, so that Maddy could continue with her work for the charity Aunt Ruth had originally set up. Once, the very idea of Max changing nappies and bathing babies would have been a total impossibility, but now...
So what was it about her that denied her the emotional happiness and support all the other Crighton women, both by birth and marriage, seemed to expect and get as their birthright? Sometimes she felt as though there was something about her that meant that she was forever condemned to live in other people’s shadows...other people’s or her twin’s.
She could still remember the plans that Louise had made for them as they were growing up, plans which involved the two of them practically running the world, or at least Louise running the world; with Katie’s devoted support. And Katie of course had willingly given her that support, that loyalty, that commitment, but now Louise had someone else in her life to give her those things...now Louise had the man that
she, Katie, had loved and she, Katie...she, Katie, had...nothing...
Outside in the square the church clock chimed the hour. Hastily Katie gathered her scattered thoughts. If she didn’t leave now she was going to be late for her appointment with the selling agent.
Reaching for her jacket she headed for the door.
* * *
HALF AN HOUR later when Katie drove into the visitor’s section of the apartment’s car park the only other person there was a young girl who was obviously quite patiently waiting for someone. Tall and slim, wearing jeans and a cropped white top, she gave Katie a warm smile as she climbed out of her car. Instinctively Katie smiled back. The girl had long dark hair and widely spaced apart warm grey eyes. For some reason Katie felt that there was something familiar about her although she had no idea what because she was certain she had never seen her before.
‘Hi, I’m just waiting for my father,’ the girl told Katie. ‘I can see why he’s decided to buy one of the apartments, Mum will love the location. I don’t know where Dad is,’ she added, glancing at her watch. ‘He said to meet him at four-thirty. Has he telephoned you to say he’s going to be late for his viewing appointment?’
As she listened to her Katie realised that the girl must have mistaken her for the viewing agent, but before she could correct her mistake the girl continued, ‘I expect Dad’s already told you that he works for Aarlston-Becker. He’s head of their research department,’ she confided with touching daughterly pride. ‘I’m at a sixth-form college in Manchester and we’ve got family in Haslewich so...
‘Oh, here he is now,’ she exclaimed as a large Mercedes swept round the curve of the gravel drive.
Behind it was the much smaller car driven by the estate agent which Katie recognised from her previous meeting with him, but she wasn’t paying either the agent or his car any attention, instead she was concentrating on the Mercedes—and its driver. Now she knew why the dark hair and grey eyes the young girl had seemed so familiar. The man now stepping out of his stationary car was none other than the man who had virtually tried to run her down on her first day at work.