Private Lives

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Private Lives Page 4

by Carole Mortimer

‘Oh, but I do.’ The other woman had relaxed slightly, now that she knew Fin was going to help her, the smile evident in her voice. ‘I’m well aware of how bloody-minded Jake can be.’

  ‘As long as you remember you owe me one,’ Fin returned ruefully at the other woman’s shameless manipulation.

  ‘Oh, I will,’ Gail acknowledged lightly. ‘I have to admit, this was what I had hoped for when I called you.’

  ‘No!’ Fin said in exaggerated surprise. ‘Believe me, Gail, you aren’t going to win any awards with the sort of acting you’ve just shown me!’

  ‘Subtle as a sledge-hammer, that’s me,’ Gail accepted without offence, obviously just relieved that Fin was willing to be involved. ‘I have to leave for the theatre in about an hour,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘If you could just get Jake to give me a call before then I would be grateful.’

  She very much doubted that very many people ‘got’ Jake Danvers to do anything unless it was something he had already decided he wanted to do—and she wasn’t sure, especially with the evidence of the disconnected telephone, that telephoning Gail came under that category!

  ‘I’ll pass on your message, Gail,’ she said non-committally.

  ‘And tell him not to disconnect my telephone again!’ Gail added frustratedly.

  ‘You tell him not to disconnect your telephone again—if, and when, he calls you!’ Fin told her decisively.

  The other woman gave an amused chuckle. ‘Jake seems to have made his usual charming impact on you!’ she derided.

  ‘Oh, undoubtedly!’ Her sarcasm was unmistakable, even to someone with the subtlety of a sledge-hammer! ‘I’ve no doubt I’ll speak to you again soon, Gail,’ she said drily before ringing off, her humour fading as soon as she had replaced the receiver. She should have just ignored the telephone when it had begun to ring, shouldn’t have answered the call; now she had to go and see Jake Danvers again. And feel the sharp edge of his tongue again, no doubt. Three times in one day was just too much for anyone!

  The cottage looked picturesquely beautiful as she turned from parking the van in the driveway. But there was no Jake in the garden this time, and when she knocked on the door, albeit tentatively, there was no response, and when she turned the handles on the front and back doors she found them both locked. There was no car in the driveway to tell her whether this was just because Jake was actually out rather than just not answering her knocks, and it was impossible for her to see into the high windows of the garage itself to see if his car was parked inside. Not for the first time, at that moment, she cursed her lack of height!

  She was left with no other choice: she would have to use her own key to go inside the cottage and see if Jake Danvers was there and just not answering the door. After all, she had the owner’s permission to find out what had happened to him—even if the man himself was likely to be furious just at the sight of her again; he had made it pretty clear the last time that if he ever saw her again it would probably be too soon!

  She could feel the palpitations in her chest as she searched through her bag for her keys, finally finding them, only to drop them on to the front step in her agitation. God, it was ridiculous to feel so nervous; she had been asked to come here, wasn’t an intruder, and if—

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing now?’

  She had been in the process of putting the key in the lock, but at the first sound of that harshly angry voice she gave such a startled leap that the hand holding the keys shot up in the air and the keys flew over her shoulder, hitting Jake Danvers in the chest with a painful thump. Fin winced as she turned just in time to see the keys make contact, although the man himself seemed unmoved by the bunch of heavy metal.

  All of Fin’s misgivings about the advisability of coming here at all returned with a vengeance as she slowly turned to face him fully. And then wished she hadn’t: he looked absolutely furious, his arms folded across the broad width of his chest now. Tall, dark, menacing, and absolutely furious! So much for her excuse of coming here as a favour to Gail because the other woman was so worried about him—he didn’t look as if he was the one in any danger, she did!

  ‘I can’t believe this!’ He ran an exasperated hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘“Use my cottage,” Gail said,’ Jake mimicked disgustedly. ‘“It’s very quiet there,”’ he continued scornfully. ‘“No one will disturb you if you don’t want them to.” Disturb me!’ he repeated as his eyes were raised heavenwards in open disgust. ‘I’ve been disturbed constantly one way or another almost since the first moment I arrived here! As for its being quiet—my God, a hotel lobby would be quieter during the busy season!’

  The fact that his criticism was completely valid, and that she was the main culprit for intruding on his privacy, didn’t make her feel any better.

  ‘What are you, Fin?’ He scowled at her. ‘Some sort of one-woman peace and quiet shatterer? Do you go around looking for people who just want to be left alone, and then do everything in your power to make sure that they aren’t? Is this one of the services of Little People: if someone expresses a need for privacy, you make sure they don’t get it?’

  His anger seemed to be increasing, not decreasing! ‘Very funny,’ she grimaced, still treading very warily.

  ‘It isn’t funny at all!’ he rasped, glaring at her accusingly.

  Did she look as if she was laughing?

  ‘Well?’ he demanded. ‘What do you want this time?’

  She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from making just as angry a retort. But the last thing she needed was to get into a slanging match with this man, and that was exactly what she would do if she answered him in kind. Besides—she tried to see this from his point of view—he had just walked up on her trying to enter his temporary home with a key! Obviously he had come out of the back door while she had tried to enter through the front.

  ‘Gail rang me,’ she told him flatly, deliberately keeping all emotion from her voice. ‘She thought there might be—some sort of problem here.’

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. ‘What sort of problem?’

  This man, committing suicide! Now that she was face to face with the man the mere idea of that was even more ludicrous than she had thought it earlier. She should have just insisted that Gail call the police rather than coming here herself and having to take the consequences of Gail’s over-protectiveness where this man was concerned. Anyone more arrogantly assured and capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, Fin had yet to meet!

  She moistened her lips, shrugging dismissively. ‘Your telephone appears to have become disconnected—’

  ‘I know,’ he nodded grimly. ‘I disconnected it!’

  She had already guessed that, damn it, giving him an impatient frown. ‘Wasn’t that rather an irresponsible thing to do, in the circumstances?’

  ‘What circumstances?’ His eyes were narrowed.

  She didn’t think he would appreciate the truth! ‘The cottage is pretty remote, and—’

  ‘I know it’s remote; why the hell else do you think I came here?’ he said exasperatedly. ‘For God’s sake, what do I have to do to be able to actually get some sleep now that I am here?’ he demanded frustratedly. ‘I was rudely awakened this morning by two completely unknown women who had invaded my bedroom. And now this afternoon, when I again try to catch up on some sleep, I’m woken up by the sound of someone systematically trying all the doors of the cottage and snooping around the windows, trying to—’

  ‘I wasn’t snooping!’ Fin defended heatedly, her cheeks warm with indignation. ‘Gail was worried about you when she realised the telephone wasn’t working! She asked me—’

  ‘What do you mean, she was worried about me?’ he cut in softly—too softly, his voice having a dangerous silky quality to it now. ‘Just what,’ his eyes were narrowed to steely slits, ‘significance did Gail seem to think there was in the telephone being disconnected, that she felt the need to contact you and get you to come over here and check things out? My God,
’ he grated disgustedly as he saw the answer to that question in the guilty flush to her cheeks. ‘I wanted peace,’ he ground out tautly, his gaze suddenly fierce. ‘I wanted privacy. I wanted to be able to think, uninterrupted! And instead of that I find I have two women with overactive imaginations who—’

  ‘One woman with an overactive imagination,’ Fin corrected with firm indignation, deciding it was past time that she make it perfectly clear that as far as she was concerned he could consign himself to the devil, that in coming here now she had only been carrying out her client’s—Gail’s—wishes. ‘I said Gail was worried about you, Mr Danvers,’ she added pointedly. ‘Obviously her concern is sadly misplaced.’

  If she had hoped to shame him into realising how selfishly he was reacting then she was out of luck. ‘Obviously,’ he rasped harshly. ‘I don’t need some Little Miss Do-gooder coming here, checking up on me just because I haven’t checked in and I can’t be reached on the telephone!’

  The ungrateful—! She hadn’t really had the time to come here at all this evening, was running on a very tight schedule as it was, and now this. It was too much! ‘Would you rather it had been the police who came here, “checking up” on you?’ she challenged, meeting his gaze accusingly. ‘They were Gail’s only other alternative,’ she explained at his disbelieving look.

  His mouth tightened with displeasure. ‘The little fool,’ he muttered impatiently.

  Fin gave him a scathing glance. ‘Obviously in more ways than one.’ Gail’s concern for this man was obviously a complete waste of time, and certainly wasn’t appreciated.

  To her surprise, the anger suddenly went out of this man who, seconds ago, had been rigidly furious with it, his expression softening to something like rueful puzzlement. His next words explained why!

  ‘It’s a lot of years since I had anyone worrying over me,’ he admitted gruffly.

  Oh, God. No. She couldn’t allow herself to feel sorry for the fact that no one had cared enough about this man to worry if he bothered to answer the telephone or not. She couldn’t! Besides, it was more likely, as she had discovered now, that he didn’t want people telephoning him in the first place!

  ‘Well, if you could just telephone Gail before she leaves for the theatre to let her know everything is OK …?’ she suggested stiffly before turning away.

  ‘Fin …?’

  She turned back slowly, looking at him warily. ‘Yes?’

  ‘You forgot these!’ He threw her bunch of keys at her with practised aim.

  Fin only just managed to catch them, shaking her head self-derisively as she realised she had been right to feel wary when he had called out to her; it would have been too much to expect that he might actually have been going to thank her for coming here this evening!

  As she looked up into that arrogantly mocking face, and saw the humour in his eyes, she knew he had read her self-derisive thoughts, and that he was laughing at her!

  She could feel that laughter following her as she walked, stiff-backed, over to the van, keeping her head firmly averted from looking at him as she reversed the van in preparation for leaving, but she could feel the heated colour in her cheeks as she couldn’t help but see the mocking salute he gave her as she passed him, standing beside the garden wall, watching her every move.

  Her hands were shaking, her palms damp, her cheeks hot and unattractively flushed, and all because of that infuriating man!

  As far as she was concerned, in future Gail’s ‘uncle’ could moulder away here in complete peace and privacy!

  * * *

  Her mother and David were sharing a pot of tea in the kitchen when Fin finally got home a short time later, David probably not long in from his office himself, owner of a huge stationery company that operated world-wide and kept him very busy.

  David McKenzie was tall and silver-haired, fifteen years older than Fin’s mother, a widower with no children of his own when he and Jenny had met. The latter was something they had tried to change during their marriage, but after almost nine years together they had accepted that it wasn’t to be.

  It was a great pity it had never happened for them, Fin had always felt. Her mother was one of those women who were naturally maternal, and enjoyed the fact.

  And at forty-two Jenny McKenzie was still slim and very active, short and tiny like Fin herself, but with silky blonde curls she kept in a shoulder-length style, although her eyes were as deep a green as Fin’s own.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ she greeted Fin warmly now, pouring out a cup of tea for her to join them. ‘Hard day?’ she prompted concernedly at Fin’s preoccupied frown.

  Fin immediately felt guilty for her distraction; she was wanting to go and look at those photographs in her bedroom, photographs her mother didn’t even know she still had …

  Her cheeks became flushed in her agitation. ‘No, I—’

  ‘She’s in love,’ David teased good-naturedly, grinning at her, a handsome man who had gone prematurely grey ten years ago. It was the constant worry of being her stepfather that had done it, he often teased her, knowing that she knew it wasn’t true, that it was something that had happened to his father and his younger brother too. And the truth of the matter was that it made him look more handsomely distinguished than when his hair had simply been blond.

  Fin had been both proud and pleased when this kind and wonderful man had come to her nine years ago and told her that not only did he want to marry her mother but that, if she would like it, he would also like to adopt her as his very own daughter. If she would like it! It had been the proudest day of her life when her name had become McKenzie, and this man her father.

  ‘Trying to get rid of me?’ she returned mockingly, sitting down at the breakfast-bar with her cup of tea in front of her.

  ‘You know I am!’ The affectionate way he ruffled her hair, as he stood up to go upstairs to shower and change into more casual clothing than the business suit he now wore, belied his words. ‘I would offer Derek money to take you off our hands—but I’m afraid he might take it!’ He whistled jauntily to himself as he left the room after blowing a kiss to his wife, quickly followed by the sound of his footsteps going up the stairs.

  ‘He didn’t mean it, you know,’ her mother told her gently as Fin frowned down into her cup of tea.

  She looked up, forcing a bright reassuring smile to her lips as she saw her mother’s concern. ‘I know he didn’t,’ she dismissed easily. ‘I—perhaps I’m just a little tired. Too many late nights. Too much hard work on the play.’ And she was starting to burble, over-explain herself. This business with Jake Danvers certainly had her rattled. ‘I must say, you’re looking particularly cheerful tonight …?’ She tilted her head questioningly at her mother as she noticed for the first time the slight flush to her cheeks and the glow in her eyes. ‘Did I interrupt something just now?’ she teased.

  Her mother’s mouth twisted with rebuke. ‘David arrived only five minutes before you did! No, it isn’t that,’ she shook her head, the flush deepening in her cheeks. ‘It’s—I— Oh, Fin!’ she cried excitedly. ‘If I don’t soon tell someone I’m going to explode!’ And she looked as if she might be about to do that, clasping Fin’s hands tightly within hers.

  Fin had never had any doubts about her mother’s happiness and contentment during the last nine years of her marriage to David, and yet at the same time she knew she had never seen her mother quite this ecstatically happy before. ‘What on earth is it?’ She shook her head, her laughter puzzled, her mother’s excitement infectious.

  Her mother moved to close the kitchen door before talking again. ‘I don’t want David to hear us,’ she explained softly, laughing throatily as she saw the sobering effect this had on Fin; Jenny and David had never had any secrets from each other during their marriage; it was one of their cardinal rules, for reasons Fin was as much aware of as they were: Fin’s own father had never believed in telling the truth when a lie was likely to achieve more. ‘It’s nothing like that,’ her mother reassured her dismiss
ively, her impatient tone telling Fin just how ridiculous that idea was. ‘Darling, I think that at long last it might have happened!’

  Fin stared at her blankly, sure she was supposed to make some appropriate response to that, but having no idea what ‘it’ was!

  ‘I think I may be pregnant!’ Her mother spoke the words almost as if she was afraid to even say them in case it should make them untrue.

  ‘Mummy!’ Fin’s reaction was one of instantaneous joy, leaping to her feet to hug her mother. ‘Oh, that’s marvellous! Wonderful! When—?’

  ‘I’m not a hundred per cent sure yet, darling.’ Her mother’s tension could be felt in the room. ‘I may just be “going through the change” or something instead,’ she grimaced. ‘But Dr Ambrose thought it was worth having a test anyway. And he’s promised to get back to me with the result first thing in the morning. The reason I don’t even want to give David an idea it’s a possibility is that it’s our ninth wedding anniversary tomorrow; just think of the look on his face if I can tell him over our candle-lit dinner tomorrow night that he’s going to be a father!’

  Fin didn’t need to think; she knew that if her mother was pregnant it would be the best anniversary present either of them would want.

  ‘Oh, Fin, I’m almost afraid to hope!’ her mother added shakily, her eyes filling with tears.

  Fin’s own happiness at the news was suddenly shadowed as another thought came, unbidden, to mind. The man at Rose Cottage. Jake Danvers. If that really were his name. And she didn’t believe it was. She thought he was actually Jacob Dalton, a film director who had left Hollywood ten years ago and, as far as Fin was aware, not been heard of again.

  A man who could, by his very presence here, completely destroy her mother’s new-found happiness.

  Or worse …

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT WAS him. There could be no doubt in Fin’s mind now. The man at Rose Cottage was definitely Jacob Dalton.

  The two magazines that lay open on her bed were ten years old now, the paper slightly greying, but the people in the black and white photographs were easily recognisable. Both magazines featured articles on the film currently being directed by the Golden Boy of the time, Jacob Dalton, starring Angela Ripley and Paul Halliwell. Jacob Dalton’s wife, and Fin’s father …

 

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