‘Tea, anyone?’
Malachi leaned over Marilyn and snapped the paper shut. Marilyn looked horribly guilty, as if she’d been caught with her fingers in the till. Richenda looked from one to the other, puzzled.
‘Is something the matter?’
The two of them exchanged glances. Malachi gave a small shrug followed by a nod, and Marilyn held out the paper as if it had been used to line a cat-litter tray.
‘We might as well show it to you,’ she said in her soft burr. ‘Because if we don’t, someone else will.’
Richenda took the paper gingerly, pulled out a chair
and sat down at the table, smoothing it carefully out in front of her.
UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS AND IN MY LADY’S CHAMBER! blazed the
Voice’s
headline.
Darling of the small screen Richenda Fox has been busy over the past week, collecting awards and reuniting herself with her estranged mother Sally Collins. But has she been neglecting her fiancé in the process? Guy Portias, owner of the impressive Cotswold pile Eversleigh Manor, seems to have been spending rather a lot of time with his housekeeper, single mother Honor McLean. The gamine brunette has been cooking up a storm in his kitchen lately. The question is, has she been busy in the bedroom as well?
Time for Lady Jane to investigate, we say…!
Accompanying the article were three photographs. One of Honor and Guy emerging from the Fleece. One of Guy with his arm around Honor at the fifties night, both of them smiling widely. And the last, and most incriminating, was the pair of them sharing a kiss in Guy’s car.
‘I’m really sorry,’ said Marilyn.
‘It’s OK,’ said Richenda calmly. ‘You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?’
‘Of course not!’ said Marilyn indignantly. ‘It’s rubbish, anyway.’
‘Is it?’ Richenda met Marilyn’s gaze coolly with her green eyes.
Marilyn looked away for a moment, flustered.
‘Honor just works here. They have to spend a lot of time together. But there’s nothing going on.’
Richenda smiled her thanks.
‘You’re very loyal,’ she said gently. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to tell me if there was.’
Marilyn opened her mouth to protest further, then shut it as the door swung open again and Guy came in, his hair damp from the shower.
‘Come on. We need to get going. No time for breakfast – I’ve got that sorted out. Just a quick cup of tea –’
He realized that there was an icy atmosphere in the kitchen, and that Marilyn, Malachi and Richenda were all looking at him with equally doom-laden expressions.
‘What?’
Malachi and Marilyn decided simultaneously that it was time to make a hasty exit.
‘I’ll go and sweep up the leaves,’ said Malachi.
‘I’ll start on the vacuuming,’ said Marilyn.
A moment later they were gone, and Richenda held out the
Voice
with a resigned sigh. Guy took it wordlessly, somehow knowing instinctively that he was in hot water.
How hot he couldn’t have imagined. Bile rose in his throat as he examined the article. Combined panic and outrage paralysed him momentarily. The three photos together looked more than incriminating.
‘I can explain all of these,’ he croaked.
‘Then please do,’ replied Richenda coolly.
He cleared his throat, desperately wanting to sound unperturbed.
‘That’s just us leaving the Fleece. I took her there for lunch, because she was upset about something and wanted to talk…’
‘Uh huh,’ Richenda nodded.
‘That was taken at the fifties night thing I told you about. The photo’s been taken totally out of context. I had my other arm around Marilyn – it was a picture of all of us. Just having a bit of a laugh.’
‘Right.’ Richenda nodded again. ‘And that one?’
She pointed at the picture of them kissing.
‘That’s… not really what it looks like. We’d just got back from the hospital. We’d heard Ted was going to be all right. It was just the sort of kiss that friends give each other when… well, you know… ‘He trailed off, knowing he sounded thoroughly unconvincing. He picked up Richenda’s hands. ‘Richenda, you know what the press are like. They can twist any situation when they put their mind to it. This… bastard obviously came down to Eversleigh looking for a story.’
‘Looks like he found one.’
‘No. There’s nothing going on between me and Honor. We spent a lot of time together this week because of work and then Ted fell out of the tree…’
Guy suddenly felt annoyed.
‘I don’t see why I should have to stand here and defend myself for something I haven’t done. If you choose not to believe me then there’s nothing I can do, is there?’
‘Guy – look at these pictures. I’d be a fool if I didn’t think something was going on.’
Guy picked up the paper in a rage.
‘Who is this Bill Weeks? I’ll bloody sue him for invasion of privacy. I’ll sue him first and then I’ll kill him. Fucking bastard – anything for a headline in his scummy paper. Who reads this shit anyway?’
‘Millions of people,’ said Richenda calmly. ‘Which is why you should really have been more careful.’
Guy stared at her.
‘You believe this?’
‘I don’t know what to think. But I do know things aren’t right between us.’
Her chin trembled. Her icy demeanour was dissolving. Guy suddenly felt very sorry for her. Didn’t she realize this was setting the pace for the rest of her life? If she remained a success then her private life was going to be picked over constantly; allegations and implications would be made.
‘Come on,’ he said gently. ‘We mustn’t let them win. We’ve got a day out planned, remember? Go and wrap up warm. I’m not going to let this spoil our day, and neither should you. We’re going to sort it all out, I promise.’
Honor was in a deep alcohol-induced coma when she heard the phone ringing. She looked at the clock, which promptly moved before she could discern the time. She groaned. Raspberry Reefs had seemed such a splendid idea at the time, but she was unused to spirits and they had slipped down all too easily. Before she knew it she had drunk far too many, and now she could hardly lift her head off the pillow. She reached out an arm to answer the phone. She couldn’t ignore it; it was probably Johnny calling to make arrangements to drop Ted back later.
‘Hello?’
‘Well, good morning to you, Miss McLean.’
It was Johnny. Honor ran her tongue over her teeth. They felt sticky and furry.
‘Hi,’ she managed.
‘Did you have a good night?’
‘Fine.’
‘You managed to get some sleep, then?’
Honor was puzzled. Johnny’s voice sounded a bit edgy.
Well, yes. I knew Ted was in safe hands.’
‘And whose hands were you in?’
‘What?’
‘While the cat’s away, eh?’
Honor was immediately on her guard. She recognized the silky aggression in his tone, and her stomach contracted with fear. Did he have his spies out? Did he know she’d gone out? That wasn’t a crime, was it? He was the one who’d told her to enjoy herself.
‘What do you mean?’
His voice oozed vitriol.
‘You’re a hypocrite. You’ve hung me ten times over for my mistake. Made me feel like a worthless worm. Not good enough for you. And all the time you’ve been screwing the lord of the manor –’
This really was too confusing for Honor’s addled brain.
‘What?’
‘Does he know I had my hand in your knickers only last week? You’re nothing but a little slut, really. A slut and a cock-tease. But I’m not surprised you’re holding out for him. I’m sure you fancy yourself as Lady Muck.’
‘Johnny, what are you talking about?’
‘You haven’t seen the papers yet, then?’
‘No.’
Well, it makes very interesting reading, I can tell you. And the pictures are even better.’
‘What pictures?’
‘You’d better get down to the shop and see for yourself.’
‘I don’t understand. How can there be pictures? I haven’t done anything.’
‘Well, it must be your identical twin sister with her tongue down Mr Portias’s throat, in that case.’
Honor gripped the phone tightly, desperately trying to make sense of what Johnny was saying. She tried to keep her voice calm and no-nonsense.
‘Look, this is silly. Why don’t you bring Ted home and we can talk about this sensibly.’
‘Bring Ted home?’ There was a bitter edge to his laugh. ‘Do you know, I don’t think I will.’
Honor felt as if she was falling through the air. Icy panic flooded her insides.
‘What?’
‘For six years I had to live without Ted because of one small mistake. I don’t think the punishment really fitted the crime. But you considered that to be justice, so I might as well judge you on the same basis. I was condemned as an unfit father. Well, now you’re an unfit mother.’
‘Johnny, what do you mean? Don’t be ridiculous –’
‘Let’s see how you like it. Being deprived of your own flesh and blood.’
‘You can’t do this to Ted!’
‘Ted’s quite happy. He’s having the time of his life. He hasn’t asked for you once.’
Honor struggled to sit up. Her head started spinning. She closed her eyes to try and make it stop, but that was worse.
‘Johnny, please. Let’s talk –’
‘Did I get the opportunity to talk? I don’t think so. You judged me, Honor. And sentenced me. Remember? Well, now the boot’s on the other foot.’
The line went dead. Frantically, Honor redialled Johnny’s number.
‘Sorry, but the number you are calling is unavailable…’
Honor gave a sob of terror.
The balloon stood in the field, patiently awaiting the arrival of its passengers, its magnificent red and yellow stripes bold against the bright blue autumn sky. The air was crisp and still; the only sound was birdsong and the occasional whoosh from the gas canisters that kept the canvas aloft.
‘It’s absolutely beautiful,’ whispered Richenda in awe.
Next to her Guy smiled, gratified that his surprise had had the desired effect, as the balloon’s pilot hurried forward to greet them. Matt was twenty-nine, but didn’t look a day over sixteen, with his pageboy haircut and baggy hand-knitted jumpers.
You’re very lucky,’ said Matt. ‘It’s always touch and go whether you can fly at this time of year, but today’s conditions are perfect. Come on!’
It was obvious that he hadn’t seen that morning’s paper. Or perhaps he had, but didn’t see it as being of any consequence when there was a balloon ride in the offing. He ushered them excitedly towards the basket, eager for them to start their journey. Matt was evangelical about ballooning; he’d started up the business
two years before, when his parents’ farm had been on its knees, and it was now more than buoyant. He’d been fully booked all summer with weddings, family outings, corporate days out, and had only managed to fit Guy in because he didn’t normally fly on a Monday. They were old mates: Matt and his older brother Felix had grown up with Guy, the three of them terrorizing the local pubs together in their teenage years. Matt noted wryly as he helped Richenda into the basket that Guy had done it again. She was just as stunning in real life as she was on the telly. Guy was a jammy bastard. But then, he remembered from their teenage escapades, he’d always nabbed the good-looking birds.
Half an hour later, the balloon was gliding regally over the fields, above the treetops, the landscape below a glorious tapestry of greens and golds. Richenda and Guy stood side by side, looking down at the scenery: the sparkling silver thread that was the river, the cattle like lead animals in a toy farm. Eventually Eversleigh hove into view, and the manor appeared below them, perfectly symmetrical, surrounded by the sprinkling of houses that made up the village. It occurred to Guy that if it hadn’t been for the hideous cost of upkeeping the manor, if he hadn’t had to hire it out, this mess might never have happened. But it was no use blaming an inanimate object. In fact, if it was anyone’s fault it was his – if he’d gone and got a proper job…
He gave a heavy sigh. Richenda turned to look at him.
‘Are you in love with her?’ she asked softly.
‘No, of course not,’ said Guy, not giving himself even a moment to consider his reply. He was shocked that
Richenda could think such a thing. ‘I thought I explained – those pictures were a total set-up.’
‘Let’s put it another way,’ said Richenda, her green eyes surveying him gravely. ‘Are you in love with me?’
The question almost took his breath away. He should have been able to reassure her at once. But he couldn’t. His response stuck in his throat. The words he wanted to utter wouldn’t come out.
Because he didn’t love her. Not properly. He’d thought he had. He’d truly thought she was the one. But now he realized that he hadn’t understood the meaning of true love. He wouldn’t lie down and die for her, move mountains for her. How the hell was he going to tell her that? He certainly loved her enough not to want to hurt her.
She was looking at him, waiting for an answer. There was pain in her eyes, but understanding as well. Which made it all the more difficult. Guy tried to come to his senses, telling himself he was being illogical. He couldn’t throw everything back in Richenda’s face because of a fleeting kiss.
For try as he might, he couldn’t get the moment he’d kissed Honor out of his head. In those brief few seconds, he’d felt everything he knew he should be feeling for Richenda. A burning desire to protect Honor for all of her life. To scoop her up and treasure her. To kiss away all her fears and worries. It had made him feel giddy; had quite literally taken his breath away. Seeing the pictures of the two of them together had brought it all back to him. He might be vehemently denying it to the rest of the nation, but it was proof, in black and white, of what
he felt. Even though, for all he knew, Honor hadn’t given him a second thought since that moment.
How could he commit to Richenda while he nursed those feelings? It would be cruel, to exchange vows with someone when your heart belonged elsewhere. He couldn’t make her a hollow promise; lure her into a marriage that was a sham. But could he bring himself to break off their engagement because he was being fanciful? Perhaps it had been the drama of the situation that had made him read so much into it; the relief that Ted had been all right. Emotions had run high that afternoon. Maybe the brief encounter in the car had been the remnants of the adrenalin they’d both had charging through their veins – it had needed somewhere to go, and the resulting endorphin rush had given him a false impression. It was just a crush, he told himself firmly. A silly little schoolboy daydream.