Saving Mr Scrooge (Moorland Heroes Book 2)

by Sharon Booth

  I was about to deny the possibility that Great Uncle Charles would ever have been that deep, but the words died on my lips. It made sense. And, given what I'd just seen in that scrapbook, I realised there was far more to him than I'd imagined. He had a heart. He understood love. He understood pain and loss and rejection. Maybe he really had done all that for my sake, after all. It was more likely than wanting to help a Carroll.

  I thought of Dorothy. Kit was the image of her. How could I look at him again, knowing he was the double of the woman who'd destroyed my uncle's life?

  "Sometimes," I said, tearfully, "the past isn't something you want to remember."

  Don nodded. "True enough. On the other hand, sometimes we have to remember, so that we can learn from it." He squeezed me gently. "What went wrong between you and Kit, love? Sounds like you were a really close couple. What changed?"

  "He changed," I said bitterly. "I thought we were happy, Don. I was making plans. In my head, it was all arranged. Kit would go to university, then he'd start working at the factory with his father, preparing for the day he'd take over. We'd get engaged, married, have a family." My voice cracked, and I buried my face in his chest.

  Don stroked my hair. "But it never happened."

  "No." I sat up and wiped the tears away, my voice harder as the memory seared through me. "You see, Kit failed to mention that he had other plans entirely. He wanted a gap year. He didn't want to go to university straight away. He planned to go abroad, travel."

  "Nothing wrong with that, love," Don said gently.

  "Really? Don't you think he could at least have had the decency to tell me himself?"

  "You mean he didn't?"

  I shook my head bitterly. "One of Mum's cleaning team at the factory also cleaned at Fell House. Mum came home one day, full of gossip, about how Audrey said there were ructions with the family because of Christopher's rebellion. Apparently, he was refusing to do what his father insisted he had to do, and there was a massive row going on. James Carroll was furious, because he wanted Kit to get his degree and then learn the ropes at Carroll's as soon as possible, but Kit had informed him that he wanted to get some life experience first, and had no plans to work at the factory for the foreseeable future. Life experience!" I tutted in disgust. "Can you imagine how that felt? He hadn't said a word to me, and there was Mum chattering blithely on about it all, thinking it was so funny that James Carroll had been disobeyed for once, and I was just sitting there in shock."

  "So, I'm guessing you confronted him?"

  "Too right I did. I was livid."

  "And did he have a good reason for not telling you first?"

  "He said it had all snowballed without him meaning it to. He said it was an idea he'd been mulling over, but his father had got on his high horse about something, and he'd just blurted it out in anger, and of course, his father put his foot down immediately, which just made Kit dig his heels in and refuse to budge. He said the more his father insisted he do as he was told, the more the idea appealed. By the time I spoke to him about it, he'd made up his mind, and there was no shifting him."

  "So, what did you do?"

  "What do you think I did? I was furious. I told him he couldn't go, and what about all our plans?" I blushed at the memory. "He said what plans? Like he hadn't even thought about getting married and taking over the factory."

  "Hang on. Are you saying you hadn't actually discussed the future with him?"

  My face burned. "Well, no, but it was a given, wasn't it? That's what happens when you're in a relationship." Besides, how many times had he assured me he loved me with all his heart, that he would always love me?

  "But you were only eighteen, love. Far too young to think about all that. No wonder the lad panicked."

  I glared at him. "He panicked? How the hell do you think I felt?"

  "I don't know. Why don't you tell me? Why would you panic just because he was going away for a year? If he said he was coming back to do his university course after that, wasn't that good enough for you? It was only a postponement of twelve months. Was it really that bad?"

  "You don't understand."

  "What don't I understand, Marley?" Don's voice was kind, and I realised I was crying again.

  "I was scared. I thought he wouldn't come back."

  Don sighed and nodded. "Aye. Like your dad, you mean?"

  "All those rich, brainy kids on a gap year. What if he met someone over there? What if he wanted to stay with them, rather than come home to a boring college kid?"

  "So, you broke up with him, rather than risk it?"

  "I didn't break up with him!" I said. "He left me. He said we had no future together, and he walked away."

  "Why would he do that?" Don sounded confused. "Didn't the lad try to reassure you?"

  I chewed my lip, remembering. "He asked me to go with him," I said eventually.

  Don frowned. "Eh? He wanted you to go abroad for a year with him?"

  I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself, as if to protect myself from the memory.

  "Then, you've lost me, love. Clearly, he didn't want to break up with you. The lad was offering you the chance of a lifetime. Why didn't you go with him?"

  I rocked back and forth for a moment, feeling sick. It was all too painful. There were some things that I couldn't explain, not even to someone as understanding as Don.

  "Marley? Why didn't you go with him? A year abroad, a chance to discover new things together. Think of the memories you'd have made, the bond you'd have forged. Why would you turn that down?"

  "Because—because I didn't fancy it." I saw the look on his face and tried to justify myself. "He was talking about trekking through jungles, living in tents, that sort of thing. I mean, he really wanted to cut himself off from civilisation and rough it, as if there's something noble about that way of life."

  Don gave me a look. "So, you turned him down 'cos you didn't fancy camping?"

  "I didn't fancy living like some primitive being in the middle of nowhere, with no real sanitation, and God knows what dangers lurking."

  "And that's what you told him?"

  "More, or less." I shivered. "I said I didn't see any reason to live in a tent for a year, and that it didn't make you a better human being to go without a flush toilet."

  Don let out a long breath. "Right. I can see what went wrong now. What did he say to that?"

  My anger burned brightly again. "He said I was a spoilt little princess. He said that everyone was right about me, and that he should have known what I was like. He honestly thought I was only with him because he was a Carroll. He said all I wanted was to trap him, so I could live in luxury all my life, and that I needn't think he was going to lock himself in a prison just so that he could provide me with the lifestyle I wanted. He told me we were finished, and that I could find myself some other mug to sponge off."

  "Right." Don stood up and replaced the scrapbook in the bottom drawer. "So, quite a bitter break-up, then."

  You have no idea. I tucked my hair behind my ears. "You could say that."

  "But that's the past. Clearly, he's changed his mind about you, or why would he become involved with you again? And you've obviously forgiven him."

  I stared at him dumbly, and his eyes narrowed.

  "You have forgiven him, haven't you?" When I didn't reply, he reached for my hand. "If you can't forgive him, there's no future for you, Marley. You must see that? All right, harsh words were spoken, and the break up was painful, but that's all gone now. You were just teenagers. All them hormones sloshing around must have played havoc with your reasoning. He probably regretted what he'd said, the minute he left."

  "But he still left," I muttered. "And he came back for university after a year and didn't get in touch. He came back from working abroad, for his father's funeral, and never contacted me. If Jack hadn't gone to America, I'd probably never have seen him again. What kind of love is that?"

  "You never tried to contact him, either, I presume?"

  I h
adn't even thought about it. "It was up to him. He was the one who left me."

  Don tutted. "I don't know. Seems to me, you two need your heads banging together. Come on, love, let's get this stuff back to your uncle. Them hospital gowns are proper draughty round your vitals, you know."

  We picked up the pyjamas and underwear, and headed downstairs. As Don took my uncle's belongings to the car, I went over to the heating thermostat and turned the temperature down a little, just to keep the chill off the place without burning too much gas. Great Uncle Charles wouldn't thank me if he received a huge gas bill in January.

  Looking around, I felt a warmth towards him that I'd never experienced before. He'd be home soon, and then we'd build a better relationship. I couldn't wait to get to know him properly.

  Smiling, I closed the front door of Fox Lodge behind me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Serafina closed the door of the final bedroom and turned to Kit, her eyes bright. "Perfect. It's even better than I remembered."

  Kit felt a surge of hope. "So, you think it's suitable? You're still interested?"

  "Absolutely. This house will make a wonderful luxury development. I can see at least six, or seven, apartments here, and with landscaped gardens and such a beautiful location, I can't imagine I'd have any trouble shifting them."

  "And what we said about Jack?"

  She smiled. "One apartment included in the price for Jack and Amanda, as part of the deal. I haven't forgotten."

  Kit sagged with relief. "Thanks, Seffy."

  "What made you change your mind?" She followed him downstairs, the scent of her expensive perfume wafting over him as they walked. "After all these years, I'd given up."

  "I need the money," he admitted, opening the door of the sitting room for her and ushering her inside. "The factory needs a major cash injection, fast. This was the only way."

  "You really shouldn't tell me that," she reproached him, shaking her head playfully. "It puts me at an advantage. How do you know I won't use that information to haggle the price down?"

  "Because I've known you since we were teenagers," he responded, smiling, "and I know you'd never do that."

  "Curse my kindly nature," she said, eyes twinkling. "So, would you like to look over the contract?"

  "You've had one prepared?" He stared at her, astonished. "But how did you know you'd still want the place?"

  "I've wanted Fell House for a long time," she said. "If you remember, my father wanted it, too, but your father wouldn't even contemplate it. Of course, Daddy wanted it for different reasons. He visualised himself living here like a lord of the manor. I only ever saw its investment potential. Tell me, Kit," she leaned forward, handing him the papers that she'd removed from her bag, "does it bother you? The fact that this will no longer be in your family? Or that it will be divided up into apartments?"

  Kit rolled his eyes. "You must be joking. I have no interest in, or affection for, this place. All it holds are memories of arguments, bitter silences, and a lot of misery. I'll be glad to be rid of it."

  "Yes, I remember your relationship with your father was never easy," she said with a sigh. "I always felt sorry for you about that. I loved my own father so much, and always felt you missed out."

  "My father wasn't like yours. He was cold and strict. He and my mother were a good match. She was selfish, hard, and not in the slightest bit maternal. Still isn't. Do you know, she hasn't once set eyes on Tim? Her own grandson. Too busy, apparently. Yep, she was the perfect woman for Dad. I don't think they gave a damn about each other, to be honest. Mind you, it seems to be a Carroll family trait. My grandparents despised each other. Like my parents, they slept in separate rooms and barely spoke. Lovely examples of marital bliss, I must say."

  "But Jack and Amanda are happy?"

  Kit hesitated, thinking of Tim and everything his brother and his wife were going through. Happy wasn't the word he'd use to describe them at that moment. "They're solid," he compromised eventually. "I think they'll last the course."

  "And what about you, darling? Anyone special on the scene?"

  Kit eyed her warily, wondering how much to confess. Truthfully, he wanted to talk to someone about it, and he didn't have anyone else. He could hardly pour it all onto Jack's shoulders, after all. "I've been sort of seeing someone," he said carefully.

  She squealed with excitement. "Really? About bloody time. Thought you'd taken a vow of celibacy. Who is she?"

  He stared at the contract, not really seeing it. "Her name's Marley, and—"

  "Marley?" She clapped her hands, leaning forward eagerly. "Not the Marley?"

  "You remember her?" Bloody hell, he'd honestly thought she'd have forgotten all about her.

  "How could I forget? I spent an entire year mopping your tears and listening to you drone on about that awful gold-digging, selfish, conniving bitch. Remember?"

  Kit flushed. "I was very young, and probably a bit too harsh about her."

  She shook her head. "From what you told me, she deserved everything she got. Are you sure about this, Kit? What on earth made you give her a second chance?"

  How could he explain? In a strange way, he hadn't had any say in the matter. It was as if he'd been waiting for Marley to give him a second chance, even though it was she who'd hurt him. From the moment he'd seen her at The Blue Lamp, it was only a matter of time, really. He knew he'd forgive her anything, even the way she'd used him back then. "She's changed. Grown up." He really hoped he was right about that, though little doubts still niggled at him.

  "Oh? What makes you think that?"

  He put down the contract and considered the matter. "She really cares about other people. She's my secretary now, believe it, or not." He felt a sudden warmth, thinking how Marley would be giving him an indignant look and reminding him she was his PA, actually. "And she's been worrying about the factory staff. Things haven't been easy here, Seffy, I won't lie. I had to make some unpopular decisions, like scrapping the Christmas bonus, and not taking them all out for their traditional meal. She was really angry with me for messing them around like that. She's been giving me quite a hard time about it, actually," he added with a laugh.

  "I take it she doesn't know the trouble the factory's in?"

  He blushed again. "No. I haven't told her."

  "And why's that?"

  "I didn't want her to tell the rest of the staff. Didn't want them all worrying about their jobs, especially over Christmas. She has family working there, and she may have felt obliged to tell them."

  "Are you sure that's the only reason?"

  "What do you mean? What other reason could there be?"

  She leaned back against the sofa, eyeing him sternly. "You're sure you just don't want her to know you may not be as financially secure as she imagines? Frightened she'd suddenly find you a less attractive prospect?"

  "It's not like that!" His denial sounded hollow, even to his own ears. Wasn't that what had nagged away at his subconscious all this time? The voice that whispered in his ear, even while he tried to drown it out with protests that she wasn't like that anymore, that the feelings between them were real? Marley had got what she'd always wanted, after all. She was dating the boss of Carroll's Confectionary—sort of. Wasn't that what she'd planned, way back when they were besotted teenagers?

  At least, he'd been besotted, he remembered bleakly. She'd soon shown her true colours, when she realised he wanted more from life than to run a sweet factory. She hadn't wanted to be with him when he went to Africa. She hadn't wanted to embark on a real adventure with him, to share the experience of a lifetime. She'd thrown it all back in his face, going on about the lack of luxury, and how she wouldn't be seen dead in a tent. And at that, he'd told her they were over, hurling insults at her in a panicked attempt to get her to change her mind, to tell him she loved him and would happily go anywhere with him, whatever the conditions. But she hadn't. She'd simply stared at him, all wide-eyed and pale, and told him to go, then. So, he had.

  S
effy had been one of the other gap year students on the project, and they'd bonded very quickly. She'd had the patience of a saint, quickly becoming his confidante and never complaining, when missing Marley had overwhelmed him at times and he'd had to fight the urge to rush back home to make it up with her. Marley had never got in touch with him, and he’d guessed she'd found someone else.

  He'd gone home a year later to start uni, and had wanted to find her, but hadn't dared risk the rejection. Then, on a night out with some fellow students in Whitby, he'd seen her with a man. It was nearly Christmas, and she was slow dancing with some denim-clad bloke. He'd seen the expression on her face. She'd looked a million miles away, and he'd felt sick with jealousy and hurt, and gone straight home. He'd never attempted to find her again, and had pushed her to the back of his mind. Or, at least, he'd tried to. Marley had a habit of forcing her way forward at the most inconvenient moments. He'd never really been free of her.

  Truthfully, he didn't think he wanted to be free of her. He had to believe in her. What choice did he have? "She's going through a hard time at the moment. Her great uncle's seriously ill."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, "although I don't see what that's got to do with anything. Just be careful, Kit, that's all. I'd hate for you to go through all that heartbreak again. On the other hand, if she genuinely has changed, I couldn't be more delighted for you. I'd like to meet her one day."

  He smiled faintly. "Would you like a drink?"

  She shook her head, blonde hair bobbing. "No thanks. Peter's taking me out for dinner. It's our wedding anniversary."

  "God, I'm sorry, you should have said. You could have come another day."

  "Not at all. This house is the best present I could ever ask for," she said, standing up and smoothing her skirt. "Have a look through the contract, then show it to your solicitor. Any problems, or queries, get in touch with me."

  "I'm sure there won't be," he assured her.