by Kim Lawrence
‘There’s nothing to confide.’
‘Just a string of coincidences—I know. The fact is, Alex dropping in every night will be the clincher with Mum. The farm is pretty isolated. After I pointed out that it was his fault you’re in this mess to begin with—’
‘Anna, you didn’t!’ Hope groaned.
‘Well, it was his hole you fell down, wasn’t it?’ her sister replied, with an innocent smile that didn’t fool Hope for an instant. ‘I didn’t think you’d have any objections about him tucking you in at night,’ she observed with a frankly wicked smile. ‘I tell you something, Hope, you’re a big improvement on the one he brought to our place the other month.’
Hope was instantly diverted. ‘Who would that be?’ She managed casual interest quite brilliantly. Nobody watching her would have guessed the degree of jealousy this information had given rise to.
‘I think she’s a banker. I’ve never seen a banker that looks like her.’
‘That’s sexist, Anna.’
‘No, just spiteful.’
‘She’s very good-looking, then?’ Why did I ask? I must have a masochistic streak a mile wide, Hope thought helplessly.
Anna sniffed. ‘Too thin,’ she replied, wrinkling her nose. ‘Looked like she lived on her nerves. Jumped like a cat every time you spoke to her. Anyhow, she’s yesterday’s news, isn’t she?’
‘For God’s sake, Anna, don’t go around telling people that Alex and I are…are…’
‘An item?’
‘Definitely not,’ Hope said firmly. ‘He thinks I’m a bimbo.’ She was too harassed to come up with anything but the truth.
‘You!’ Anna burst out laughing. ‘Don’t be silly.’
Hope could have wept with frustration. ‘Seriously.’
Anna stopped laughing and frowned. ‘The idiot!’ she exclaimed indignantly. ‘Wait till I—’
‘No!’ Hope interrupted firmly. ‘You will not, and I repeat, not interfere, Anna.’
Anna’s dark eyes searched her sister’s face, and what she saw there made her expression grow sober. ‘He’s made you unhappy? That’s it, then. Plan cancelled.’
‘I did it.’
Both sisters looked up as Adam Deacon entered the room. He looked pleased with himself.
‘You did what?’ his wife asked suspiciously.
‘Persuaded Beth that she could go on the cruise with a clear conscience. I managed to soothe her every fear,’ he observed with modest pride. ‘Though I think the fact that Alex is going to play guard dog at night really clinched it. I can see her point—you really are a bit off the beaten track here, and he’s only two minutes away by car. You should have seen her face. She’s so excited, and already planning the packing with military precision.’
‘Oh, Adam, how could you?’ Anna reproached him.
‘What do you mean, how could I?’ he said incredulously. ‘I didn’t volunteer. The way I recall it you were the one who said we should take advantage of the fact I’m a smooth talker.’
‘That was before,’ Anna responded crossly.
‘Before what?’
‘Don’t start, you two,’ Hope said forcefully. ‘It’s done now.’ She wasn’t about to come between her parents and their dream holiday again. ‘I’ll come to some sort of understanding with Alex. I’m sure he’ll realise there’s no need to come here personally every night. I’ll ring him.’ Yes, she thought with satisfaction. A telephone call would do very nicely. ‘Better still, I’ll ring you, Anna.’
‘I think you’re underestimating your sister’s powers of persuasion,’ said Adam. ‘I should think by this point Alex is convinced he personally threw you down the bloody hole. Anna did rather lay it on thick. Anyhow, what’s the problem with Alex dropping in here for a few minutes each night?’
‘He thinks Hope’s a bimbo. I think you should—’
‘Hold it there,’ Adam replied noting with alarm the determined expression on his wife’s face. ‘I’ve told you before, Anna, it’s not a good idea to get involved with your sisters’ love lives.’
‘But Alex is your friend…’
‘I’d like it to stay that way.’
‘Will you two stop discussing me as though I’m not here? I’m quite capable of sorting out my own problems.’
‘Exactly,’ said Adam. His wife looked less than convinced, but to Hope’s relief she didn’t contradict him. She’d just have to rely on Adam’s influence on Anna.
A week later, as she sat staring nervously at the clock on the mantel, Hope didn’t feel quite as capable of coping with the bizarre situation she’d been forced into. But she had the speech worked out. She’d be polite, but firm.
There’s absolutely no need for you to come here again, Alex. Yes, that hit just the right note—confident but not aggressive.
It was eight-thirty, and it was snowing. Fred Wilson, their nearest neighbour, who was looking after the farm while her parents were away, had kindly stacked a fresh pile of logs in the hearth of the inglenook. There was a glass of red wine at her elbow, the smell of the casserole her mother had left was permeating the house and she had a good book. She ought to be feeling relaxed. Instead she was jumping at every creak and groan.
She’d knocked thirty seconds off her time getting to the door. She had to dispel any illusion of helplessness that might be lingering in Alex’s mind, and these little details were all-important.
I don’t know what I’m worrying about; he’ll probably be relieved that I don’t need him. Not need him? She gave a deep sigh. If only that were true. Come clean, Hope, she told herself, you’re really afraid that the moment you see him all those admirable principles of yours will go sailing out of the window. If he tries to make love to you again you might just take what he’s offering, even though it isn’t nearly enough.
I’m pathetic and feeble, she thought, frowning with self-disgust. What if he thinks I engineered this, put Anna up to it?
This novel idea made her sit bolt-upright. The dimly lit room suddenly took on an entirely different aspect. Seen through his eyes the log fire, subdued light and soft music might take on an entirely more sinister slant. What if, horror of horrors, he thought this was all part of the seduction process?
She pulled herself hurriedly to her feet and hitched her crutches under her arms. The music could go for a start, and she needed light—lots more light!
Her shriek would have done justice to a banshee.
Of course she shrieked. Anyone would if they came into contact with a solid chest of large proportions in a house that ought to contain nobody but herself.
‘For crying out loud, woman, you nearly gave me heart failure!’ Alex took her by the shoulders and regarded her as if she was mad.
‘You!’ she spluttered indignantly. ‘What about me? What do you think you’re doing, skulking about? How exactly did you get in?’ Her indignation at having her set piece ruined was growing by the second.
‘Get in? A key, of course. The one your mother gave me. My God, you’re still shaking. Anna said you were nervous about being alone out here, but I thought she was exaggerating.’
‘She didn’t tell me she’d given you a key,’ said Hope, nursing a strong sense of injustice. With a family like mine, who needs enemies? she reflected bitterly. ‘And I’m not nervous! You startled me, that’s all.’
‘I had no idea you were so highly strung.’ She could detect a hint of criticism in his tone.
‘I’m not a horse, and neither am I of a nervous disposition. I wasn’t expecting to walk into…’ Her eyes rested momentarily on the breadth of his shoulders, clad in the ankle-length waxed coat he wore. ‘An obelisk in my sitting room. You might have knocked.’
‘I did, several times, but you must have been entranced by the music.’ The lines around his eyes deepened as a scornful expression flickered into his eyes. ‘Do you like that sort of thing?’ he asked as the soulful ballad continued to unfold to his unappreciative ears.
Just as well I wasn’t setting a seductio
n scene, Hope thought with an ironic smile. ‘Actually, yes. What’s your style, Alex? Don’t tell me you’re an ageing head-banger?’ she mocked gently.
‘I’m more classically inclined myself, and if I’m feeling romantic a nice slice of Puccini usually fits the bill. But in the context of our relationship I don’t suppose that’s relevant.’
It wasn’t easy to break the hold of those challenging grey eyes. There was something menacingly attractive about his stare. ‘Very true, but it does surprise me you ever feel romantically inclined. You reduce everything down to its lowest common denominator.’ Was that honesty or just a fear of deeper involvement? The puzzle brought a small furrow to her smooth brow.
‘And that offends you?’
‘It’s irrelevant to me,’ she said grandly. ‘And if you don’t mind I’m quite capable of standing without assistance.’ She looked pointedly at his big hands. The usual thing happened and a wave of aching helplessness washed over her. She was ready for it and she hardly even swayed. ‘By the way, you’re steaming,’ she observed prosaically. She’d die of humiliation if he guessed how she was feeling.
‘So I am.’ He let her go and began to shrug off the big coat from which the moisture was visibly evaporating before the roaring fire. He shook his head and a myriad of tiny droplets spun from his hair. Some landed on Hope’s skin—tiny, icy specks of moisture. ‘It’s snowing heavily.’
‘Then it was stupid of you to come here,’ Hope pointed out. The farm was quite high up, and the weather was always worse here than down in the town.
‘I said I’d come, so I have,’ he said, with a note of finality that she found extremely frustrating.
‘Even though it’s totally unnecessary?’
He flicked her an assessing look. ‘I’ll hang this in the hall to dry, shall I?’
‘Why ask me?’ she called after him. ‘You seem to be quite at home.’
He returned moments later. ‘Don’t look for hidden agendas, Hope,’ he said bluntly. ‘You made your position quite clear and I don’t have the inclination or energy for coercion. So you can stop looking at me as if I’m about to leap on you,’ he said drily.
‘That’s a relief,’ she responded flippantly, to cover the disturbingly ambiguous feelings this statement inspired. So she only had her own base urges to worry about now. The thought gave her scant comfort.
‘You do look tired.’ The lines of exhaustion that bracketed his mouth worried her. There was a grey tinge to his skin too, and the dark smudges beneath his eyes suggested that he hadn’t had enough sleep. ‘Sit down.’ Why did I say that? she wondered in an agony of self-recrimination. You should be showing him the door, not creating an atmosphere of welcome.
Alex looked as if he wondered why too, but rather to his own surprise he followed her suggestion. ‘I had a meeting in Birmingham this morning and I had to make a detour on the way back. As usual, at the first sign of a snowflake the whole road system is grinding to a halt. It was one of those days when you have to drive defensively. That weird section of society who feel they’re immortal were out in force. Suicidal tendencies don’t begin to cover it. I also had to change a tyre on the hard shoulder, which was the finishing touch to a very frustrating day.’ He moved his hand and it nudged her wine glass. Quick reactions stopped the contents from spilling.
He might be tired, she reflected, but he isn’t slow. I’m sure the last thing he wanted to do was come here. It was terrible to be designated a boring chore. I expect he’s longing for his own hearth. He obviously works too hard, she decided with a frown.
‘This is your seat.’ He made as if to move.
‘No, it’s all right. I’ll sit here.’ The back of her knee made contact with the sofa. ‘Do you want some wine?’ The offer came out in a rush. Silently she despaired of her behaviour. A little chink of vulnerability in his armour and she was getting all mushy and protective. Alex is the last person in the world who needs protecting, she reminded herself sternly.
His slanted brows shot towards his hairline. ‘To celebrate our truce? I’m all for that.’
‘Don’t push it, Matheson,’ she growled, without any real conviction. When his eyes smiled he really was incredibly attractive. He was just incredibly attractive full stop.
‘Let me get the glass,’ he said as she reached into the bureau cupboard.
‘Don’t you dare. I’m getting tired of telling people I’m not helpless.’
‘No, but you are vulnerable. Thanks,’ he said as she handed him the wine glass. ‘How many times were your parents cut off last winter?’
‘I don’t know; I wasn’t here.’
‘But you’ll agree they were?’
Hope nodded reluctantly. ‘We usually are.’
‘Then I can perfectly understand your mother’s concern; it’s about time you did too. I’m all for independence, but I’ve no great admiration for stupidity!’
‘Are you calling me stupid?’
‘Let’s not start name-calling.’ He looked at her over the top of his glass and Hope viewed his pacifism with suspicion. ‘Shall we just take it as read that you’re as obstinate as a mule?’ he continued smoothly, ignoring her snort of outrage. ‘I’m the closest neighbour you’ve got if anything goes wrong, and it’s very little inconvenience for me to spend ten minutes every day to check things.’ He made it sound as though she was making a fuss about nothing.
‘The Wilsons are closer,’ she pointed out pedantically.
‘As the crow flies,’ he agreed, ‘but they’d have to trek across four fields to get here if the roads were blocked. They are already looking after the livestock, aren’t they? Do you want to impose on them even further?’
‘I still think it’s totally unnecessary.’ She already knew she’d lost. It was awful! She was going to see him every day for the next three weeks. Every day she’d be the chore he had to do at the end of the day. Every day she’d be in a state of breathless anticipation by the time he arrived. All that emotional turmoil, and for what? I can’t cope with all this anticlimax, she thought bleakly.
‘Fortunately,’ he said wearily, closing his eyes, ‘I’m not too bothered about what you think.’ His big body slumped in the armchair.
She’d had a puppy once that could do that—fall asleep without warning—often in the strangest locations. This was the first time she’d seen a person do it.
‘Don’t fall asleep!’ Panic sharpened her voice.
‘What…? God, no.’ He rubbed his hands over his face roughly and shook his head ‘Sorry. It must be the heat.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she responded gruffly. She couldn’t help feeling fascinated by the youthful cast to his features as he’d hovered on the brink of sleep. All the usual hard wariness had momentarily vanished. Don’t go confusing him with your puppy, Hope, girl, she told herself firmly. ‘I’m sure you’ve got things to do.’ Things involving slender female bankers probably, she thought darkly.
‘Sleep.’ He had the stamina and the discipline to get by with very little of this commodity, but just lately he’d been pushing it.
‘You should eat,’ she told him sternly. ‘I was just about to—’ She stopped herself in the nick of time. Hope wasn’t used to being distant and unfriendly. The warmth of her natural personality kept peeking out at all the wrong moments.
Alex was watching her, a trace of amusement in his eyes. ‘What were you about to do?’
‘Eat.’ She gave a sigh of defeat. ‘You can have some if you like. There’s plenty.’ That was an understatement. Her mother hadn’t adjusted her quantities when she’d filled the freezer with ready-to-heat meals. ‘The dogs will have it if you don’t.’
Obviously she categorised him in the same file as canines; that did wonders for his ego. ‘Your hospitality has a warmth and charm all of its own,’ he responded gravely. ‘I’d be delighted to dine with you.’
‘Don’t expect it every night.’
‘I’ll try and keep my appetite in check.’
�
�Humph,’ she snorted, turning her face way so he couldn’t see her blushing like a teenager at the sly double entendre.
‘This is delicious.’
Hope nodded, pleased he appreciated her mother’s cooking. She laid her fork to one side and watched with fascination as he made substantial inroads into the food.
He looked up and intercepted her stare. ‘The stuff they fed me at lunchtime was pretty, but not very substantial.’
‘And there’s a lot of you to fill.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Do you cook?’
‘When I’ve someone to cook for. It’s too much bother just for one.’
Hope nodded agreement, and wondered how often he had someone to cook for. ‘Have you always lived at the Mill?’ Considering the Mill House was barely a mile from the farm, it was strange she’d never been inside.
Alex pushed his plate to one side and leaned back in his chair. ‘Dad bought it at the same time he did the old warehouse. He never got around to converting it until the board booted him out as chairman.’ Despite the bland delivery Hope saw the tell-tale tightening of the small muscles around his mouth. ‘Before then we lived over the job, so to speak. There’s a flat at the factory. Dad and Eva had a place in town, of course, but that was a child-free zone.’
‘Why did they do that? Boot him out?’
‘You’re very curious tonight.’ The expression in his eyes was close to hostility, and she was surprised when he saw fit to reply. ‘Matheson’s is and always has been a profitable venture from the outset. The banks loved it—it was an investment that paid off. The only fly in the ointment was Dad—he just didn’t fit into their world. He didn’t have the right school tie; he wasn’t one of them. His style could be aggressive and he trod on a lot of people’s toes—they didn’t forget.