Read Saving Willowbrook Online

Authors: Anna Jacobs

Saving Willowbrook (30 page)

He strolled across to his car and slid into the driving seat, moving off with an unnecessary swirl of gravel.
She stood watching his car disappear, but didn't go into the house, didn't trust herself yet to confront Cameron.
What Miles had said couldn't be true.
Could it?
Only . . . Cameron had come here at first to inspect the property. She'd assumed he was doing this for the bank. But what if he'd come for DevRaCom? What if he was deceiving her?
Surely she couldn't have been so badly mistaken in a man again?
Seventeen
Brett stared at his father in shock. ‘You don't mean it.'
‘Oh, but I do.'
‘Who's been putting stupid ideas like that in your mind? Come on, Dad. I'm not an alcoholic. I just like a drink or two.'
‘More than a drink or two. I've not forgotten you crashing my car, even if you have. And when you come up for trial, it'll look better if you've gone into rehab, my lawyer says.'
‘But I've cut down on what I drink already.'
‘Oh? Then why did I find those empty whisky bottles in the rubbish bin?'
Brett shrugged. ‘I'm going mad shut up here. It was just the odd drink.'
‘But you've not been shut up. You've been creeping out late at night, taking advantage of the fact that your mother and I go to bed early. I'd have come after you last night except I didn't want to wake her. And then, to crown it all, you had to set a booby trap for Rose Marwood! Didn't it even occur to you that it would scare anybody out of their wits these days, what with terrorists and all? Stupid, that was, involving the police again. That'll not look good at your trial, either. You'll probably get a custodial sentence. How do you think having a son in jail will reflect on me?'
‘It was meant to be a joke.'
‘Well, it wasn't funny and if you weren't my son, I'd say you
deserved
locking away to teach you a lesson.'
‘You won't let them put me in jail, will you?'
‘I may not be able to stop them. But my lawyer says it'll help if you go into rehab voluntarily, so go you will. I've found a place where they treat people decently. It'll cost me a fortune, but it'll be worth it to stop you getting in any deeper. I'm not having your mother worrying herself into an early grave because her son's an alcoholic.'
‘I'm not going into one of those places. Dad . . . Don't do that to me.' Brett's heart sank. When his father got that look on his face, he knew nothing would change his mind.
‘If you're not going into rehab, you'd better move out of here tomorrow and find yourself a new job while you're at it. I'll be cancelling your credit card, too.'
‘You don't mean that.'
‘I bloody well do. I've had medical advice about this as well as legal, and we need to nip your addiction in the bud before it's too late.'
‘What medical advice?' Brett stared at his father. ‘The Paiges. It's one of them, isn't it? You always go to them, even though I keep telling you how old-fashioned their practice is.'
‘They know their stuff, especially that young one.'
Brett opened his mouth to say what he thought of Oliver Paige, then looked at his father's furious face and pressed his lips together.
‘You leave for rehab on Monday morning, early. I'll drive you there myself and hand you over. You'll not come out till you're well and truly dried out, not if you want your job and home back.'
‘I'm not going!'
His father stared thoughtfully at his signet ring. ‘There's also the small matter of your future inheritance – I'm not leaving my money to a drunken wastrel.'
Brett knew when he was beaten. ‘I can't believe you're doing this to me.'
His father's voice softened just a little. ‘It's for your own good, so give it a chance, lad. In the meantime, for this last day or two, you'd better knuckle down and work hard.' He looked at his watch. ‘Your shift at the petrol station starts in quarter of an hour. Just gives you nice time to walk into town, doesn't it? Leave your car here. You need to start getting fitter. You've put on a lot of weight round your middle lately.'
Without a word, Brett changed into his work uniform and trudged into town, so furious he didn't notice anything or anyone till he passed the surgery and saw Rose going round the back. Bitch! he thought. She'd get her comeuppance one day, if he had to wait years to pay her back. So would her cousin.
As the long day passed, he thought about Rose several times. Pretending to be an artist. Bloody poser! Gradually a plan came to him. He wasn't leaving town without giving her something to remember him by.
And why not deal with her cousin while he was at it? Though that'd be harder. He couldn't walk out to Willowbrook.
Well, he still had a few good friends and quite a lot of money stashed away. He'd pay them well to help him. He smiled. Some fools liked to pay for their petrol with cash and if you knew where the security cameras were, you could always slip a note or two into your own pocket. As long as you didn't get greedy, no one was any the wiser.
And if his Dad thought they'd turn him off booze at this rehab place, he could think again. There was nothing wrong with a drink or two. Absolutely nothing.
How would he manage without a drink to wind down at the end of the day? What would he do with himself if he couldn't go out for a pint with the lads?
He shuddered at the mere thought.
Ella took refuge in her bedroom for the rest of the day. She didn't intend to confront Cameron about whether he was working for DevRaCom until they were alone together and not likely to be interrupted.
It took all her self-control, however, to remain calm when he came up to chat to her or bring her a drink.
‘What's wrong, Ella?' he asked on his third visit. ‘You've been very quiet since Miles left.'
‘I'll tell you later, once Amy is in bed. We'll go out for a walk. I'm tired of staying indoors.'
He opened his mouth to say something, shut it again, then gave a little shrug. ‘Very well. In the meantime, try to rest. You're looking stressed again.'
‘Thanks to Miles.' She saw with relief that this had stopped Cameron's questions for the moment.
Later, Stephanie came upstairs to put Amy to bed, then paused outside Ella's bedroom, before coming to stand at the foot of the bed. ‘What did my son say to you?'
‘Nothing important.'
‘I saw how quiet you were after he'd left, and you've been avoiding Cameron ever since, so it must be important, to you at least.' She waited and when Ella said nothing, said earnestly, ‘Don't listen to anything Miles says. He has a way of taking the truth and twisting it out of shape.'
‘Mmm.'
‘All right, you're not going to confide in me, so I'll butt out. But don't do anything hasty on Miles's say-so.'
Ella could only manage a half-smile in response to that and when Stephanie came round the bed to give her a hug, the smile slipped completely and she clung to the older woman, her chest heaving as she fought against tears.
The thought that Cameron had been deceiving her was like a knife in the guts. He couldn't – surely he couldn't be associated with DevRaCom?
If he was . . . maybe she'd as good as lost her farm already.
An hour later Ella went downstairs, taut with determination to remain calm and logical during their discussion.
Cameron was sitting reading the newspaper, but set it aside and stood up the minute she came into the room.
‘Ready for our walk?' she asked, not managing a smile.
‘Of course.'
‘We're only going down to the lake, Stephanie. We won't be long.'
‘Amy will be all right with me. Don't come back without the smile you lost today.' Absent-mindedly she patted Porgy, who was sprawled across her feet, but she was watching the pair of them very intently.
Ella pressed her lips together and closed her eyes for a moment, but couldn't say anything without bursting into tears, so led the way out.
They walked in silence to a bench by the lake, a favourite spot of hers. ‘We can sit here,' she said.
‘And you can tell me what's upset you so.'
She took a deep breath. ‘Miles said you were working for DevRaCom, that you're here to help persuade me to sell Willowbrook.'
‘He likes to distort the truth, doesn't he?'
‘Yes. But . . . you didn't come here by chance. I thought you'd been sent by the bank, but I've still heard nothing from them. You could easily be here on behalf of DevRaCom.'
‘I was sent here by DevRaCom,' he began carefully, ‘but—'
With a cry of anguish, she stood up and fled. She'd thought she was prepared for him to admit it, but she wasn't. She couldn't bear –
just could not bear!
– to hear another word he spoke. Nothing could excuse such a deception, nothing! Pretending to love her, to care about her. Pretending to care about Amy, which was even worse.
And all the time he'd been working with DevRaCom, the company which was trying to take their home away from them.
She heard his footsteps pounding after her, so took a short cut through the bushes, following paths only she knew, hearing him stumble and curse as she left him behind among the bushes.
Miles didn't go back to London, but booked into a cheap motel for the Friday night. He had a small job to do for DevRaCom, an envelope to pass on. He suspected it was bribery, but they hadn't told him what the envelope contained and he hadn't asked.
His meeting wasn't scheduled until late so he watched television as he waited for the hours to crawl past.
He smiled a few times about his last conversation with his ex. He'd certainly upset the apple cart where she and O'Neal were concerned. She was still so naïve, she'd believe anything you told her. Some people never learned.
Why wouldn't she realize it was best to capitalize on her asset and sell the old house while it was still worth something? He was actually giving her some sound financial advice there.
And why was his mother interfering? She shouldn't have taken early retirement, clearly had too much time on her hands these days. He didn't get people's obsession with grandchildren, or children, come to that.
He frowned at the thought of Amy, annoyed that his daughter had taken against him and refused to be charmed. She would hardly speak a word to him, and she'd rejected both expensive and inexpensive presents.
Ella must have been poisoning the child's mind against him, that was the only explanation. Everyone knew how kids loved presents.
His mobile phone rang half an hour before he was due to leave for the meeting.
A man's voice said baldly, ‘I can't keep that appointment.'
‘Oh? Any special reason?'
‘I can't do what you want. The listing is already being processed.'
‘
What?
You said you could help us stop it.'
‘Yeah, well, I didn't know how much local interest this house would raise. Even if I tried to stop it, I'd get nowhere – all I'd do would be lose my job. The guy who's pushing it through quickly came to see me. He'd heard someone was trying to stop the house being listed and—'
‘He knew what you were going to do? You must have been careless.'
‘No, I wasn't. I swear I wasn't. He's clever. Too clever. And well connected locally. I wouldn't want to cross him. Sorry.'
Before Miles could think what to say, the call was ended and although he dialled the number he'd been given for use in emergencies, no one answered. He cursed the man and went to stare out of the window of his motel room.
If Willowbrook was listed and this project fell through, his hopes of a comfortable rise in his standard of living would come to nothing.
Who had found out that someone was prepared to help DevRaCom stop that listing? Not Ella, that was sure.
O'Neal? Could it be him? But he had no local connections, surely? And why would he work against DevRaCom?
How that old ruin was still standing after all these years, Miles couldn't figure. It should have fallen down centuries ago. Or been burned down. A vision of it in flames danced before him.
No, he wasn't going there. He wasn't risking prison, not for anyone.
But surely there was something he could do to make sure Ray Deare got what he wanted, and therefore gave Miles what he wanted most, a high-level job?
There had to be some way to retrieve the situation.
He tapped his fingers on the windowsill, drumming them again and again.
Not through Ella. She'd not sell whatever he did, he was sure of that now. He'd tried everything he could to persuade her, had observed her when he was visiting Amy. No use trying to sweet talk her again. And anyway, he didn't want to. He preferred his women pliable and feminine, not scrawny and dressed like a tramp.
Then he had an idea. It was a long shot, but hell, what had he to lose? Only a day or two more in the area.
He'd got another access visit to Amy lined up, so that not only gave him an excuse for staying in the district, but would allow him to continue watching what was going on at Willowbrook.
Never take your eye off the ball!
He picked up the phone and dialled the number on the advert he'd seen when leafing through the community newspaper.
Cameron chased after Ella, but she turned suddenly and seemed to vanish. He paused then tried to follow her through the bushes, but they seemed dense and branches kept slapping him in the face or tangling in his sweater. He waited, listening, but there were no sounds of anyone moving, just a light breeze whispering around him.

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