‘Griff? He was working last night.’ That’s what he’d said. He’d offered to call in sick so he could stay with Evie, but she’d convinced him she was fine and he shouldn’t let his crew down.
A rush of excitement stirred her insides.
She and Griff had been making love for the second time when Dylan had woken from his nap. It was shortly after that Griff had left.
‘Perhaps you misheard.’
‘Nope. They were going to take Honey for a walk along Chesil and then stop at the pub for something to eat.’ Tess picked at the marmalade label.
‘I swear to you, Griff was on night shift.’ Evie swatted Tess’s hand away from the jar. ‘He left from here.’
That gained her daughter’s immediate interest and she looked up. ‘Well, someone’s lying, and it isn’t me.’
‘I didn’t think you were.’ There was only one suspect. Imogen. ‘Why would she tell you that?’
Tess huffed. ‘I don’t know. She probably got her days muddled. It happens, especially with Griff’s weird working patterns.’
‘They’re easy, Tess. Two days on, followed by two nights, followed by four days off. Yesterday was his second night shift.’
‘You’ve been with him for three years. It’s imprinted on your brain. Imogen’s not his wife.’
‘As far as I’m aware, she’s not anyone’s wife.’ And that bothered Evie. ‘Has she been married?’
‘I doubt it. She says she’s too selfish to be in a relationship.’ Having helped Dylan with his drink, Tess finished her breakfast and carried her dishes to the sink. ‘Is Logan having a lie-in this morning?’
Evie’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. She had five minutes before she had to leave. ‘He asked if I could be half an hour late. I wonder if we’re working towards a later start and later finish.’ Both ends of the day were difficult for Evie. ‘Not sure how that’s going to pan out.’
‘Then, thank goodness for Imogen.’ Smiling, Tess liberated Dylan from the confines of his seat, took his hand and led him from the kitchen. ‘I’m in today doing homework. Dylan can keep me company.’
The morning visit to Logan’s was a perfunctory affair, with Evie just about finding the time to perform the basics before she was chased out of the house.
‘I won’t be needing you at lunchtime,’ Logan said. ‘I’ll see you tonight. Can you get here for six?’
‘Six? I’ll be giving the children their tea, Logan. Why not five as per usual?’
‘Because I’ve arranged for you to meet Imogen. She couldn’t make it until then. You’ll have to arrange for an early dinner.’
So, having worried about Logan’s welfare throughout the day, and leaving Tess to dish up her and Dylan’s tea, Evie was back in Burton Bradstock, preparing dinner for Logan and awaiting the arrival of the new wonder woman.
‘Did you have a nice lunch?’ she called out to Logan in the living room.
‘We did, thank you. Imogen took me out to a café in West Bay.’
Evie looked up from the cucumber she was slicing. ‘You went out?’ Logan never went out to eat. He’d told Evie he found the whole experience degrading and embarrassing. He couldn’t cut up food, he couldn’t get it cleanly to his mouth, and he hated everyone watching him.
‘She has a bigger car than you.’
A bigger car? ‘The car was not your primary concern.’ Evie marched from the kitchen into the living room and halted in front of Logan. ‘I’d have taken you out in Griff’s Land Rover.’
Logan shot her a scowl. ‘I’m not going out in that thing. I’d have no joints left.’
They stared at one another for a few seconds.
‘What car does Imogen have?’ Evie folded her arms. ‘And does it have leather seats?’
‘It has heated seats.’ Logan’s stony expression broke. His mouth took charge of the smile, and his eyes followed. ‘You have a beautiful soul, Evie. Have I ever told you that?’
‘I’d remember if you had.’
Projecting an air of innocence, Logan blinked several times and then folded his hands onto his lap. ‘It was just lunch and a chat.’
Playing along, Evie dipped her head and peered from under her brow. ‘That’s how these things start. The flash cars and posh restaurants reel you in and before you know it, she’s leaving her toothbrush in your bathroom and her shoes in your wardrobe. Is that how it is? Are you trading me in for a younger model?’
Logan was laughing now, his virtuousness all but vanished. ‘I’m training her up, like you suggested we should do with an outside carer. It was a lovely drive, the sandwich was good and the company was excellent. We talked about everything, and I do mean everything, but I’ve had enough excitement to last the rest of my life.’
‘The rest of your life?’ Logan’s insensitivity niggled Evie, and finding the room stifling with the fun sucked out of it, she returned to the kitchen. Bloody Imogen. She was like the new girl at school – fresh and shiny; exotic. Interesting. Whereas Evie … well, what Logan knew about her was what she wanted him to know, which, when analysed, consisted of the bog-standard details one would expect to find in an uninspired, suburban housewife’s diary. ‘I’m so boring,’ Evie muttered into the salad bowl. ‘And ordinary. I bet Imogen’s not ordinary. I bet she’s fascinating, and intelligent and stunning.’ No wonder the others were falling at her feet. Olivia was the only person to take a dislike to her.
‘What are you doing? Come back in here.’
‘I have to dish up your tea.’
‘Is that with a side order of arsenic?’
Evie shook her head. She wasn’t mad at Logan. Mad at the circumstances, yes, but not Logan. ‘I thought I’d go with ham and a green salad tonight.’
She served up the food, put the small plate on the handy wooden tray Griff had bought from Chiswell Craft Centre, and carried everything through to Logan. ‘I’m pleased you had a good day.’ She retired to the armchair and gazed out of the window. The streetlamps had turned the outside world orange. ‘I thought Imogen was coming.’
‘She is. She was late back to work after lunch, so she’s had to catch up. Is there somewhere else you have to be?’
Evie bit down on her tongue. The question was typical of Logan, asked as if Evie didn’t have a life of her own to lead. ‘No. It’s fine,’ she said, extracting the sting before releasing the words. ‘Griff should be there now.’
They’d sent each other two or three texts over the course of the day, Griff confirming he was now on four days’ rest, which meant he could help with Dylan, if that was what Evie wanted. Her reply hinted that wasn’t the only thing she wanted and he promised to be at the cottage for half six.
Evie hadn’t raised the subject of Griff and Imogen having dinner at the Harbour Inn. It was obvious Imogen had lied. It was the reason that eluded Evie.
She squinted at the brass clock in the oak wall cabinet next to Logan. It was nearly seven. Griff would be kissing Dylan on the forehead and wishing him goodnight, and Tess would be watching anime on YouTube or Skyping with Stephanie. And Evie? Normally, she’d be heading home, but here she was, waiting for Supergirl to pitch up.
In your own time, she thought.
A beep of a car alarm being set was the first indication Imogen had arrived. The next was a quick ding of the bell and the rattle of a key in the lock.
‘She has a key?’ Evie took to her feet, then realising she was standing to attention, sat down again. Keep it casual.
‘Logan. It’s Imy. Sorry I’m late.’
The door banged shut, shoes clacked along the hall and a rush of air carried the scent of oranges into the room as Imogen entered. Immediately, she thrust a hand towards Evie.
‘I’m Imogen. You must be Evie. At last we meet.’ The friendly gesture was supported with a smile. ‘I’m so sorry to have kept you. I know you have to get back to your family.’
Evie stood again and shook Imogen’s hand. Her earlier assessment had been correct. Imogen was stunning. Petite,
blonde and blue-eyed. Her charisma was attractive, too. It was almost a person in its own right. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
Imogen disrobed and threw her pink mac onto the sofa, before giving Logan a peck on the cheek. ‘I’m fine, thanks. I thought we could get straight down to business. The sooner we’re done, the sooner you can get home to that beautiful daughter and baby boy. I can stay and help Logan.’ She sat next to her coat, crossing her legs and spreading her arms over the tops of the cushions. ‘I’m exhausted. Did Logan tell you we went out for lunch?’
Nodding, Evie retook her seat. She was reserving judgement as to Imogen’s character. If this whirlwind of energy reflected her true personality, it was easy to see why people were drawn to her. Or was it that they were sucked in?
Choosing to watch, listen and learn, Evie sat back, and studied Imogen. If she was a fake, as Olivia suspected, she’d slip up eventually.
‘Wow. Logan can talk for England, can’t you?’ Imogen switched her attention to the old man. ‘We must have covered religion and politics, law, belief systems – everything from birth to death. The last person I could talk like that with was my dad, and he left a long time ago. We had a lovely day, didn’t we?’ Again, she addressed Logan.
‘We covered a lot of ground.’ Logan dropped his fork onto his plate. ‘And we found we share similar views on many subjects.’
‘Seems as if you’re going to be a great asset to the team,’ Evie said, aware she should have sounded happier. ‘I assume you’ll have to fit Logan’s care around your work schedule.’
‘That’s where being your own boss comes in handy.’ Imogen brought her hands together and leaned forward. ‘I’ll fit my appointments around Logan’s schedule. He’s my number one priority, now.’
That was a dig with a big, fat, metal shovel. So, Imogen didn’t do subtlety. That was something to watch for.
Evie sidestepped the freshly dug hole. ‘That is so good to hear, Imogen. Both Logan and I had concerns about bringing in outside carers. No one can provide the same love and care as family, but from what I’ve been told, you’re almost as good as family.’
‘I’ve known this one since she was knee-high to a grasshopper,’ Logan said. ‘We’ve missed a few years between then and now, but we’re catching up.’ He asked for the tray to be removed. Imogen was up in a flash.
‘Is that all you’re having?’ Evie had only dished up a small portion, no bigger than she’d have given a six-year-old Tess, but Logan had left the majority of the ham and all of the salad.
‘Lunch was filling, wasn’t it?’ Imogen swiped away the items and came back with a glass of water. She handed it to Logan. ‘Now, Evie, you must be itching to get home, so let’s thrash out a plan.’ Imogen perched on the sofa arm, adjacent to Logan, and in a proprietorial move, extended her arm along the top of his chair. ‘Please join in, Logan. I’d hate to do this without your input. After all, you’re the important person here.’
An hour later, a new care regime was in place, the washing up was done, and Imogen was upstairs helping Logan prepare for bed. Evie was waiting for her in the living room.
She didn’t deny having Imogen as a second carer was going to make a huge difference to her family life, but she couldn’t see what Imogen was getting from the deal. It wasn’t for financial benefit. Yes, they’d agreed to a figure per hour, but it was nothing like the cost quoted in the carer brochures. Imogen’s assertion she was simply happy to be part of Logan’s world again and share stories of her family with him had weight to it, just not enough.
And what of the lie she told Tess about meeting up with Griff? Then there was Olivia’s mistrust of her when the others swore she was the answer to their prayers.
Now, that was an interesting notion. Griff’s desire was for Logan to be less dependent on Evie. Imogen could fulfil that. Tess needed time with Evie to talk through their difficult past. Imogen’s presence would present them with that opportunity. Logan …
Evie wandered over to the gold-edged mirror hanging by the hall door. She stared into her reflection. The only prayer Logan wanted answered was his call to be with Marilyn.
‘Oh. You’re still here.’ Imogen brushed past as she carried an empty mug into the lifeless kitchen. ‘Are you checking up on me?’
There was a distinct frost in the air.
She’s brought her own weather front, Evie thought. She moved away from the entrance and took a tactical position in the corner of the room, protecting herself on three sides. ‘You’ve dropped the sweetness and light routine already.’
‘Routine?’ Emerging from the dark, Imogen folded her arms and lounged against the doorframe. ‘You don’t like me very much, do you? I’m surprised. From everything your family said about you, I thought we were going to hit it off. We seem to have so much in common.’
Evie held her breath in an effort to supress the anxiety stabbing at her stomach. She trusted Griff and Tess not to discuss her personal business, and Logan was a man who valued discretion, but if, as Olivia had warned, Imogen weaved wondrous magic with one hand, while performing dirty tricks with the other, she could be party to a smorgasbord of information. Evie exhaled to a silent count of five, and then spoke in a controlled and self-assured manner. ‘We do?’
‘Of course.’ Imogen’s head inclined, and the faint beginning of a smile lifted her features. ‘We both want what’s best for Logan, don’t we? And doesn’t helping others give you a real sense of purpose?’ She used her shoulder to shove herself away from the doorjamb. ‘You must feel the same. You’re so dedicated.’
It was concern over what the others had told Imogen that prevented Evie from nodding in agreement. For having never met, Imogen’s accurate assessment of her was disturbing.
‘You value privacy.’ Imogen swung round and stared into the mirror. ‘Nobody’s told me that. It’s something in you I recognise.’ The reflection of her eyes levelled with Evie’s. ‘It’s awful to think the people you love have betrayed you. Given away your secrets. It hurts right here.’ She clenched a fist and held it to her chest. ‘It’s happened to me.’ Turning back, she gazed directly at Evie. ‘I can’t stomach disloyalty. Something else I suspect we have in common.’
She was right on all counts. ‘You’re perceptive,’ Evie said. ‘I’ll give you that. Is this how you won Tess over?’
‘Won her over?’ Imogen’s expression was one of perfect innocence. Maybe too perfect. ‘She’s a credit to you and her dad.’
Evie froze. The mention of Neil agitated her thoughts, sending them scurrying into every crack in her mind they could find. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall if Tess had met Imogen before or after she’d asked Evie to talk about Neil.
‘So sad she lost him at such an early age,’ said Imogen.
‘Tess told you about that?’
‘We were … sharing. We understand the damage caused by losing someone you love. I was eleven when my brother died.’ Imogen took a step forward. ‘You know about Kieran, right? And Griff’s part in it?’
Evie widened her stance, readying herself for battle. ‘I know he feels a responsibility towards you.’
‘Is that what you think?’ Imogen pouted. ‘I’d say there’s a lot more to me and Griff than a duty of obligation.’
Ignoring the obvious implication, Evie ran with the veiled reference. ‘Well, since you brought the subject up, I’m intrigued to know why you told Tess you were meeting with my husband last night.’
Imogen closed her eyes. ‘She said that?’ A grimace, another pout, and she was back, looking at Evie. ‘Griff and I are free to see who we want, and men like him need to be with a woman. You’re the one who decided your marriage certificate was worthless.’ Her brow rose.
Evie flinched. Not because she believed Imogen, but because Imogen was right; Evie was the one who’d pushed Griff away.
‘I’ve known him a long time,’ Imogen continued. ‘We have a shared history. I don’t suppose he told you we were an item. Together. A couple, doing all
those things people in love do – holding hands, kissing. Having sex.’ She held Evie’s gaze. ‘He’s very good at it, isn’t he? Irresistible in his uniform. Unstoppable out of it.’ Imogen slinked past the green chair, trailing a finger up and over its form. ‘He’s full of surprises, isn’t he?’
‘And you’re full of yourself.’ Evie derided Imogen’s claims with a scornful laugh. ‘You’re too selfish to be in a relationship.’
‘Oh. The pretty little teenager told you that, too.’ Imogen slipped onto the arm of the sofa, crossed her legs, and hitched her skirt to just above her knees. ‘I did say that, but I didn’t want her worrying about things that shouldn’t concern her. I mean, Griff’s not even her father, is he? Why should she care what he gets up to?’ She scraped her hair back, amassed it in one hand, and coiled it around her neck. It came to rest on her breast, and she made a play of flattening down the loose strands. ‘I like Tess. She’s spirited yet vulnerable. It’s an attractive combination. I was flattered when she flirted with me. It was sweet.’ She smiled at Evie. ‘Did you know she has a thing for girls?’
Evie couldn’t determine if the woman was fishing for clues, or if Tess had confided in her. It hurt to think the latter; that her own daughter felt able to talk to a stranger – a predator – before her. She pushed the thought aside and maintained a dispassionate exterior. ‘That’s Tess’s business.’
‘Logan worries about her.’ Imogen plaited and unplaited her hair, her fingers constantly twining and snaking between wisps of blonde. ‘He’s of the opinion still waters run deep. I agree. I’ve offered to keep an eye on her after he’s gone.’
‘You what?’ Evie snorted. ‘No way.’ This was getting out of hand. It was time to shut down the conversation and find out exactly what Imogen was playing at. ‘What is it you want, Imogen? Griff? Dream on. He’s not interested in you. And he was at work last night, so you can drop your lies about spending the evening with him.’ Ha. That knocked Imogen off balance. ‘Or perhaps you fancy your chances with Logan. Are you going to seduce your way into his will, bump him off and claim your inheritance?’
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