But if it was all a fantasy, why did he keep thinking about her? Why had he continually wished that she’d been in the kitchen on Saturday night? Because she kept her cool while everyone else panicked, and brought an air of calm to the chaos? Or so he could watch her as she carefully dressed each plate, admiring the curve of her neck as she bent her head over her handiwork. And hadn’t there been a moment in bed with Richenda last night, when he’d imagined dark eyes fringed with spidery lashes gazing into his?
Seconds ticked by as they drifted through the sky. He had to decide what to say. If he ignored his doubts, and assured Richenda he loved her, that would seal their fate. There would be no going back. And he would never know…
Somewhere in his consciousness, Guy heard a phone ringing. It was so out of context that he looked around, confused, then realized it was his mobile. He rummaged in the pocket of his coat and pulled it out. He didn’t recognize the number.
‘Hello?’
‘Guy?’ The voice on the other end was small. ‘Guy – it’s me. Johnny’s seen the paper. He’s seen the paper and he’s got Ted. He says he won’t bring him back.’
Guy didn’t hesitate for a moment.
‘I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’
He hung up the phone and looked at Richenda.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said simply. ‘That was Honor. She needs me.’
Richenda just nodded. She didn’t look surprised or angry. She put her hands in her pockets and turned away, looking out over the countryside.
Guy turned to Matt.
‘Is there any way we can land this thing quickly?’
Honor answered the door to Guy, as pale as a ghost, her eyes huge in her face. He put one arm around her and gave her a comforting squeeze; for a moment she rested her head despondently on his shoulder, then looked up.
‘I’m sorry to drag you into this,’ she half whispered. ‘But I didn’t know who else to call.’
‘That’s OK. It’s all my fault anyway. You’re the one who’s been dragged into this appalling mess.’ He saw the paper on the sofa in the living room. You’ve seen it, then?’
Honor nodded.
‘Yeah.’
‘I don’t know what the hell these people think gives them the right. It just goes to show you, doesn’t it? You can’t believe what you read.’
‘I know. The only problem is, Johnny does… Believe it, I mean.’
‘I’m so sorry, Honor.’
‘And I can’t blame him for being angry. He’s so desperate for us to get back together… ‘Honor swallowed hard. She could feel a lump of tears the size of a peach stone sticking in her throat. ‘He says I’m an unfit mother. He says he’s not bringing Ted back. He can’t mean that, can he?’
‘I don’t know. You know him better than I do.’
‘He’s very volatile. He’s got a bit of a wild streak. But I don’t think he’d do anything to hurt Ted. Even if he’d quite like to kill me.’ Honor twisted her hands nervously. ‘Do you think I should go to his house? Try and talk to him?’
‘You might pass him on the way. Then if you weren’t here…’
‘Then maybe I should call the police?’
Guy realized she was starting to get distraught.
‘Calm down a moment. Let’s think about this logically. What time was he supposed to bring him back?’
‘After lunch. We didn’t say an actual time.’
Guy looked at his watch.
‘So he’s not technically missing yet. The police won’t be interested.’
‘But what happens in the meantime? What if he takes him out of the country? What if he takes him to Ireland?’
‘Has Ted got a passport?’
‘No…’
‘Well, he won’t be going anywhere. You can’t fly anywhere without paperwork these days.’ Guy tried to think rationally. ‘Why don’t we give him another couple of hours; see if he does bring him back? If he doesn’t, then we can make a plan. Until then, there’s nothing we can do.’
He put his arms round her and gave her a reassuring hug.
‘I’m sorry I can’t be more help.’
‘It’s OK. It’s nice that you’re here. I’d go mad if I had to wait on my own.’ She smiled at him bravely. ‘I haven’t interrupted anything important, have I?’
‘No, no,’ lied Guy. ‘Nothing at all.’
Honor bit her lip anxiously.
‘Has Richenda seen it?’
‘Yes, but she knows it’s all nonsense,’ Guy assured her. ‘She’s used to this sort of thing.’
‘That’s OK,’ said Honor, relieved. ‘It would have been awful if she’d thought there was something going on between us.’
‘Quite,’ said Guy. ‘But you don’t need to worry.’
Richenda had to smile at the irony. Most people came back from being whisked off in a hot-air balloon betrothed, not dumped. As a dramatic end to a relationship, it took some beating. For she knew that it was all over. And she wasn’t going to demean herself by protesting or fighting or throwing a tantrum. She was going to make a tactical and gracious withdrawal, and be grateful that this had happened early on in their engagement, before the stakes had got too high. She’d be able to turn it to her advantage somehow, she felt confident of that. Not by exploiting Guy, of course. Or by bleating about the pressures of the media; she despised people who courted publicity then complained when the press turned on them. She thought it would be fair to explain their split as a temporary respite while she explored her past and rebuilt bridges with her family. That should satisfy the nation’s curiosity, and eventually they would lose interest, until the day she found love elsewhere.
Richenda stood in the master bedroom at Eversleigh, looking round for the last time. She’d gone into the small sitting room, taken a sheet of notepaper out of the bureau
and spent half an hour agonizing over what to put in her letter, painstakingly choosing every word until she’d got it just right. Now she placed the letter on the dressing table, next to the little leather box that held Guy’s cufflinks and his loose change. She slid the ruby ring off her finger and placed it carefully on top of the letter, feeling a sudden calm as she did so.
She’d always felt out of place at Eversleigh. She neither belonged there as part of the family or a member of staff or a guest. The only time she’d felt comfortable was as Lady Jane, when the cameras were rolling and the lights were burning and she was moving round the room in character. Even Malachi and Marilyn had been wary of her; she’d been aware of their complicit glances, their tacit disapproval. And she certainly knew that Madeleine had never considered her good enough for Guy, for she’d never gone to any great lengths to hide it. Richenda knew she would never have broken down those barriers. She would never have felt mistress of Eversleigh. As she picked up her bag, she felt a huge relief that she didn’t have to struggle to fit in for a moment longer.
Honor didn’t think that the hands on the clock in the kitchen had ever dragged themselves round so slowly. Each minute felt like an hour. And there was nothing either of them could do to kill the time. Conversation was pointless; reading was futile. She spent the first half an hour tidying up the kitchen, then sat on the sofa chewing her nails, jumping up every time a car went past, willing the phone to ring. Five times she tried Johnny’s mobile but was met with the same polite voice telling her
he was unavailable. Guy did his best to calm her, but there was nothing he could say to reassure her. Every trashy made-for-TV movie she had ever seen flashed through her mind. She had visions of Johnny helping Ted into a helicopter, loaned to him by one of his flash clients, and flying him over to Ireland. At one point she even imagined Chloe escorting them, she and Johnny exchanging affectionate smiles over the top of Ted’s head. Then she saw herself in court engaged in a long drawn-out custody battle, with Johnny’s brief producing evidence of her wanton behaviour.
‘Hey,’ said Guy, and she realized she had dug her nails so hard into her hands that they were practically drawing blood. ‘Don’t torture yourself
At twenty past three, there was the rumble of a diesel engine outside the front door. Honor looked at Guy and flew over to the window. She saw Johnny getting out of the car. And Ted in the front seat.
‘He’s brought him back.’ A sweet relief flooded through her, but she resisted the urge to go rushing out. She wasn’t going to give Johnny the benefit of knowing how much agony he’d put her through. Instead, she composed herself and opened the front door, pale but cool, acknowledging him with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He responded with a twitch of his mouth that was more of a grimace than a smile; they both had to pretend to be civil in front of Ted, who shot straight into her arms without noticing any atmosphere. She bent down and hugged him to her.
‘Mum – we had such a cool time. We went to see some Labrador puppies and I slept on a… what was it called?’
He looked unsurely at Johnny.
‘A futon.’
‘Goodness,’ Honor laughed. ‘Now listen – go upstairs and unpack your things. Put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket and put everything else back in the right drawer. I just want to talk to Johnny for five minutes, then you can come down and give me all the gory details.’
As Ted pounded up the stairs she stood up and looked Johnny in the eye coldly.
‘I suppose your conscience got the better of you.’
The look she gave him was so withering that even Johnny had the grace to look a little shamefaced.
‘I was always going to bring him back. You know that.’
‘How do I know that?’
‘You know I’m impulsive, Honor. You know I’ve got a temper.’
His freckles stood out in stark relief against his skin, which was white with tension.
‘So that makes it all right, does it? Do you know what I’ve been through today?’ She couldn’t help blurting it out, even though she’d sworn to herself not to let him see she’d been out of her mind with worry. But Johnny was impassive to her plight.
What about what I went through?’ he demanded. ‘I got a bit of a shock over my morning coffee, I can tell you.’
‘The difference being I didn’t go out to make you suffer.’
‘Oh yes. Honor McLean. The professional victim. Always wronged, but never in the wrong’
Her distaste was palpable as she pushed past him into
the living room. Johnny followed, and stopped short when he saw a figure standing rather awkwardly by the fireplace. It was Guy, half wishing he’d slipped out the back door to leave them to settle their differences, but knowing that Honor deserved his support.
‘Surprise, surprise,’ said Johnny, raising a sardonic eyebrow.
‘Actually,’ said Guy, ‘I’m just here to explain.’
‘Nothing needs explaining. It was all there in black and white and words of one syllable.’
Guy tried to hide his exasperation. He was hoping to get through this encounter without losing his temper, but he was already prejudiced. He’d hated seeing Honor suffer over the past couple of hours, trying to remain brave while inside she was obviously in turmoil, her little face set in a mask of distress. And he didn’t think you could sink any lower than to use a child as a weapon; it was despicable. But if he was going to convince Johnny, he had to remain cool.
‘You know, that’s why papers like the
Voice
survive,’ he said calmly. ‘Because the people that read them choose to believe the rubbish they read, instead of chucking it in the bin where it belongs.’
Johnny looked at him sharply. Was he being patronized?
‘There’s no smoke without fire, surely?’ he retaliated, a trifle smugly.
‘I can assure you – there’s absolutely nothing going on between me and Honor. She’s my employee and that’s the extent of the relationship. The whole story’s been cooked up by the paper and I just want to apologize for any distress it’s caused you.’
‘I’m
not distressed. Though how Ted will feel in the playground next week I can’t say. I’m sure word will have got round.’
Honor stepped forward, her fists clenched. It was typical of Johnny to be able to go straight for the Achilles heel. But Guy shot her a warning glance. He’d got her into this and he was going to get her out.
‘If anybody’s spiteful or unkind enough to say anything, I’m sure Honor will do a great job of explaining how the truth’s been twisted. The paper lost out on a scoop on Richenda last week and this was their retaliation. Unfortunately they specialize in insinuation that isn’t underpinned by anything remotely resembling the truth. They present it as fact, and unless you’ve got the time and patience to read between the lines you can come away with the wrong impression. Which is understandable: they do a very good job.’
Despite himself, Guy managed a self-deprecating grin; a blokey attempt to get Johnny on his side.
‘I can tell you, I had quite a bit of explaining to do myself. Richenda wasn’t remotely impressed. But I’m afraid it goes with being engaged to a celebrity. I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to look at another woman without it being all over the front pages.’
Johnny nodded his acceptance of Guy’s explanation.
‘Yeah, well, life’s a bitch, eh? I suppose you weighed it all up before you asked her to marry you. I’m sure she’s got a lot of other attributes that more than make up for the inconvenience.’
Guy’s face remained remarkably impassive.
‘I just want to be sure that you’re quite happy Honor
is the innocent party in all of this? It’s my fault – I should have realized they’d be looking for an angle. I should have done more to protect her.’
‘I’m sure it happens all the time,’ said Johnny. ‘Occupational hazard.’
‘Quite,’ said Guy, relieved that Johnny seemed mollified. He raised a hand in farewell. ‘Right, well, see you. Take care. I’ll see myself out.’
A moment later the front door clicked shut.
‘Wanker,’ Johnny muttered under his breath.
‘What do you mean?’ demanded Honor indignantly.
‘All that bloody pseudo-apologetic Hugh Grant frightfully-sorry waffle. You watch, I bet in six months’ time he’ll be caught in a brothel wearing ladies’knickers.’
‘Johnny!’
‘He’s the pervy public-school type. You can see it a mile off’.
Honor suddenly found she’d run out of patience with Johnny and his conspiracy theories. She rolled her eyes and stood up.
‘Whatever you want to think. I’ll go and get Ted so he can say thank you. Then I think you better go.’