New beginnings by the su.., p.19
New Beginnings by the Sunflower Cliffs, page 19
‘What if the baby is one of those that cries all night?’ Shani asked, looking worried.
‘Then you’ll just have to have one of the rooms at the back of the house,’ Bea teased. ‘I’m joking.’ She patted Shani’s arm when she looked concerned.
‘I’d love to live here. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be. I’m not sure if Paul will move here too, but he won’t mind as much if he thinks he’s welcome too.’ Bea saw Shani looking thoughtful and waited for her to speak ‘How should we sort out paying for things?’ She raised a hand when Bea went to interrupt. ‘I’m not moving in here without paying my way. You can’t afford it, and it’s against my principles.’
Bea wasn’t surprised Shani was wanting to get things straight before agreeing to live at The Brae. ‘I don’t mind what you want to do, I’m just relieved we’ve agreed you should move in here. That’s a start.’
It mattered to her that Paul didn’t feel excluded, so to ask him too would be perfect. She knew it would suit Shani to move in, having heard her rave about living in the countryside with the orchard and areas of the garden many times in the past. Bea suspected she would enjoy parking her baby’s pram in the garden’s fresh air, knowing it would be safe there.
‘Do you know,’ Shani said eventually, ‘even Harry’s lack of interest in our baby can’t dampen my mood now I know I don’t have to start traipsing the streets finding somewhere suitable to live.’
‘I think we both need a celebratory cuppa,’ laughed Bea.
Shani opened the bag Paul had left to reveal spongy cakes. ‘Jersey Wonders, perfect.’
‘I thought you’d say that,’ Bea said, happily. ‘Full of fat and sugar, and perfect for celebrating baby news. Mmm, these are still warm.’
19
MARCH – DARKEST DAYS
Bea struggled to decipher her aunt’s handwriting. Why had she ever thought she stood a chance of keeping up with her aunt’s good work? She was already finding it impossible.
She picked up a bag of snapdragon seeds and opened the twisted top, trying not to lose the precious seeds her aunt had collected from her garden the previous year. Bea dipped a small container into a tub of compost and went to pour it into some little pots, accidentally knocking over the seeds and scattering them over the floor. She threw down the pot and burst into tears of frustration.
Why was she bothering with all this? Simon was right. Aunt Annabel wouldn’t be here to see any of it, and no one else was interested in the damn garden. She sat down on an old wooden stool and sobbed.
‘This bloody house,’ she groaned. Maybe she should sell it and move on. As soon as the thought entered her mind, Bea knew it was an irrelevant one. Even overwhelmed as she was by everything she’d lost – her aunt, her marriage and her baby – she knew she couldn’t lose this house, too. Anyway, where would Shani and her baby go if she did sell it?
How had it come to this? When had her happy marriage become a sham? Had she even been in love with the real Simon, or had she only seen in him what he wanted her to? Mel had once accused her of marrying Simon too quickly because she was desperate to create the happy family she’d lost when her mum had died.
She blew her nose on a crumpled tissue and went back into the house. Though it was early, she opened a bottle of rosé and lit a fire, then sank into the huge sofa in the darkness of the drawing room with only a box of tissues for comfort. The soothing golden glow of the fire did nothing to improve her mood. She started on her way to get hideously drunk, unsure how else to block everything from her mind. She was in love with a completely unsuitable man who could end up causing her to lose her job and, if she wasn’t extremely careful, her freedom, too. What the hell was she playing at, and why was everything so complicated?
The bottle empty, Bea decided to get another from the fridge. The lights in the house flickered once and then went out. Bea carefully made her way to the window. She looked out but couldn’t see any other lights nearby. ‘A power cut.’ That was all she needed on top of everything else.
Turning too quickly, Bea caught her temple on the corner of an open cupboard door. She winced in pain. Putting fingers up to her head intending to rub it better, she felt the warm stickiness of blood. ‘Damn, that hurts,’ she moaned. Stunned and a little wobbly, she padded over to the sink to soak a wedge of kitchen roll in cool water to help stem the blood trickling down the side of her face.
Bea held the wet mass up to her head as she returned to the drawing room and sat. Her head was pounding. Maybe it was time to go to bed. No more melancholy for her. Enough now. She got up slowly, surprised at how dizzy she felt.
The phone rang on the table next to her. ‘Hello?’
‘Bea? Is that you?’
‘Who’s this?’ she asked, cupping the phone in between her ear and chin.
‘It’s Luke. I wanted to apologise if I’ve seemed a bit snappy with you.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Are you all right?’
Why had she answered the phone? She knew she was in no state to talk to anyone about anything, especially him, and certainly after finishing a bottle of wine. The last thing she wanted to do was say the wrong thing.
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ Bea wiped away a random tear from her puffy eyes with a handful of damp, disintegrating tissues. ‘Night.’ She put the phone down. She would sleep down here tonight. It was cosy, and the fire should keep going for the next few hours.
Sometime later she became vaguely aware of a banging noise. Bea dragged a fresh tissue from the near empty box and blew her nose. The banging was repeated. She pushed the blanket off and ambled blearily over to the door peering tentatively around it to see who was making so much noise. Her eyes focused on Luke staring back at her; he didn’t seem happy. She pulled back the heavy door. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked blearily, her voice sounding odd even in her drunken state.
Luke couldn’t believe his eyes. With one hand holding a clump of bloodied tissues to their head and the other clinging to the door frame, the person vaguely resembled Bea. Except this person had a pale face, eyes so puffy they were almost closed, and mussed hair that stuck up at angles around a blotchy face.
‘Luke, can this wait until tomorrow?’ Bea asked, pushing her hands through her untidy hair and beginning to push the door closed.
Luke couldn’t imagine what could have happened to her. Dread filtered through the pit of his stomach. He put his hand out and caught the door before it slammed shut and followed her silently inside. The only light was coming from the fire in the grate and the moonlight through the windows. Without saying a word, he sat down opposite her as she settled onto the sofa and made herself comfortable again. She seemed unaware that he was still in the room.
‘Bea,’ he said, keeping his voice as gentle as he could. ‘How did you hurt your head?’
He watched as she slowly raised her hand and lightly touched the cut. ‘Ouch,’ she said, flinching, her gaze troubled. ‘I think it was on a cupboard door. Stupid, really.’
Luke forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
Bea stared at him silently. He felt a pang of sadness at the obvious sadness in her eyes. Something must have happened between the fayre and now. ‘Is it Simon?’ he asked.
She thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. ‘I’m such an idiot,’ she murmured sleepily, touching her head once more.
‘No, you’re not,’ he soothed. ‘We can talk about this in the morning.’ He leant forward and checked her cut. It was difficult to see clearly, but he thought the bleeding had stopped.
‘I don’t think it’s deep. We can get it looked at properly in the morning. Why don’t you get some sleep?’ He watched her lie back and close her eyes, amazed she complied so readily. He pulled a chenille blanket from the back of the settee to cover her and sat back down, watching her silently, the flickering shadows from the fire taking him back to that memorable evening they’d slept together.
He added several logs to boost the fire and tried to make sense of his jumbled emotions. He felt protective of her and wished he and Bea were closer and that she would let him take care of her somehow. He pictured her with Tom at the charity ball. He hated having to watch Tom with Bea. Why did she seem to trust Tom when all she seemed to do was push him away? He wished he knew what was holding her back. Was he wrong to think Bea had feelings for him? Or was it just wishful thinking on his part?
While preparing coffees in Bea’s kitchen the next morning, the phone rang and Luke answered it. ‘Hello?’ he said absent-mindedly, stirring sugar into the steaming black liquid.
‘Who’s that?’
‘Who’s this?’
‘I asked first— Oh sod it, it’s Shani.’
‘Luke,’ he volunteered, trying not to sound too amused at her obvious surprise.
Silence. ‘Er, morning, Luke. Um, is the lady of the house there, please?’ Shani asked, excitement clear in her voice. He suspected she assumed he and Bea had slept together because he was in the house so early.
He placed the coffees and two plates of buttered toast on a tray. ‘She is, but she’s a little caught up now. Can I ask her to give you a call when she comes round?’
‘Comes round? Is she okay?’
Damn, thought Luke. Why had he used those specific words? He thought for a moment and, remembering what close friends the two women were, knew he had to fill her in on the previous evening. ‘Shani, she’s not all right.’
‘What do you mean?’ Luke could hear the breathless concern in her voice.
‘I phoned her last night but she didn’t seem to be her usual self. She wasn’t particularly happy to see me when I popped round here to check on her, but I couldn’t in all conscience leave her.’
‘You’ve been there all night?’
‘Yes, I’m about to wake her now.’
‘I’m glad you stayed with her. Do you know what’s wrong?’
He wished he did, he thought, but didn’t say so. ‘’Fraid not. She has a nasty cut to her temple, and will no doubt have one hell of a headache this morning. I don’t envy her.’ He hoped he hadn’t said too much and felt sure Shani needed to know exactly what happened in case Bea tried to make light of everything. She needed help sorting whatever it was out, and her best friend was the perfect person to help her.
‘She’s got rather a lot on her plate, and to be honest I’ve probably added to her troubles.’ Shani groaned. ‘Unfortunately, her problems aren’t things anyone else can help with. Simon is very controlling, and she’s going to have to find a way to sort him out finally. I’ve got a niggling feeling there’s something else wrong, but she hasn’t confided in me about it. Look, I’m going to come right over.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, relieved Shani was on her way. He knew Bea wouldn’t be happy to see him there when she woke. Hell, he thought, he’d be horrified to find her sitting watching him after a heavy night too.
Up until now, she’d always seemed strong and independent, so in charge of everything. Seeing her in such a state last night had concerned him. She seemed fragile and he couldn’t help wondering if her biggest concerns were losing the house she loved so much. He had to agree with Shani though that there must be more to it than that. But what?
Shani arrived and thanked Luke for sitting with Bea for the night. ‘Let me know how she is, will you?’ he asked, writing his mobile number on the notepad by the door.
‘Will do,’ said Shani, concern for her friend written all over her face.
As he opened the front door, she called to him. ‘Luke?’
‘Yes?’
‘How will you explain to your girlfriend where you’ve been all night?’
‘She’s not my girlfriend.’ She might not be, he thought as he walked down the front steps, but Leilani was still going to be impossible, and probably throw a tantrum over him staying out all night, especially when she discovered he had been at Bea’s.
Bea heard the front door close and stretched, wincing in pain. She recognised Shani’s voice and watched through blurry eyes as her friend entered the room. ‘Oh, my head,’ Bea groaned, pushing herself up slowly. ‘Hey, how did you get in?’
Shani stared at her thoughtfully. ‘Luke.’
Bea frowned and tried to process Shani’s words. ‘Luke’s here? I don’t understand. Ow.’
‘He told me you were in a really bad way last night and didn’t feel he should leave you alone.’
Realisation dawned on Bea. ‘Oh no, I think I remember.’ She looked up at Shani, another movement that hurt like hell. ‘Even my eyes hurt.’
‘I know, and you look a mess.’ Shani held out a mug for her to take. ‘Drink your coffee, then you can freshen up. You’ll feel much better after that.’
Bea, having no strength to argue, was happy to let Shani take charge. Seeing her puffy face, swollen eyes and bruised and cut temple in the ornate mirror on the wall, her heart sank to think that anyone, let alone Luke, had seen her in such a state.
After luxuriating in a hot bath, she took a couple of painkillers and was soon feeling a little better. Shani wanted her to see a doctor to check she didn’t need stitches, but Bea insisted it wasn’t necessary. Instead, she suggested they go out for some fresh air.
They walked along the paths in between the World War II gun placements and bunkers at Noirmont Point.
‘Is it because of the baby?’ Shani asked eventually. Bea shook her head. ‘What’s bothering you, then? I’m sure you’re keeping something from me and it’s making me anxious.’
Bea wished she had the freedom to share what Tom had told her about Luke’s problems.
‘You can tell me anything, you know that, don’t you?’ Shani said.
Bea caught Shani’s eye but didn’t mention that she had never imagined she might keep her pregnancy a secret from her. She needed to find a way to explain things to Shani without breaking the confidentiality code she had to abide as a trust officer. She spent her working life looking after others’ trusts and companies and it went against her principles to discuss business when she shouldn’t.
‘Bea?’
Bea paused. ‘Look, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but I’m not allowed.’
‘Can you tell me who it’s to do with then?’
‘I can’t tell you that either, sorry. It’s nothing for you to worry about, though. It’s more to do with work.’
‘Tom.’ Shani pulled a face. ‘I might have guessed.’
‘Sorry?’ Why was Shani always so intuitive? ‘Why do you mention Tom?’
Shani stopped walking and stared at her, hands on her hips. ‘I knew he’d be involved somehow.’
Bea shrugged. ‘It’s difficult, and Tom hasn’t actually done anything wrong.’
‘So tell me. You work for the same company and he is your manager, after all.’
‘He knows something that he felt I should be told, that’s all,’ Bea eventually confided.
Shani stared at her, a confused expression on her face. ‘This has something to do with Luke, I presume?’
Not comfortable looking Shani in the eyes, Bea bent to smell a narcissus. ‘You don’t know anything of the sort. Anyway, I’ve told you I can’t discuss it.’
‘How come Tom can tell you, then? I don’t get it.’
‘He told me to make sure I didn’t inadvertently get myself into a difficult situation.’
‘With Luke.’
Bea rolled her eyes. ‘Will you forget about Luke? Please drop it.’
Shani shrugged and began walking again. ‘All I know is that something is playing on your mind and I don’t like it.’
Bea put her arm around Shani’s waist. ‘Neither do I, but there’s nothing I can do about it.’
Shani stroked her rounded stomach. She stopped and gave Bea a reassuring smile. ‘It’ll all work out, just hang in there.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ If it doesn’t, she was just going to have to simply deal with it.
Shani snuggled into her red woollen scarf and pointed out to sea. ‘I wonder if Luke’s boat is out there? It does look a little rough today.’
‘I doubt it. He’s moored at St Catherine’s over the other side of the island. I suppose living on his boat while he does up his cottage is an obvious thing to do for someone who loves the sea.’ She inwardly cringed at the thought of him spending all night watching her sleep. What had she said to him? God, her head was still pounding. ‘Anyway, I have more pressing matters to worry about. I need to sort out this money for Simon.’
Shani groaned. ‘If only you could discover what this Jersey Kiss thing is and maybe you could sell it. If your aunt left it to you in her will then it must be worth something.’
‘I know,’ Bea said, shivering and doing up her ancient Burberry mac. ‘But I’ve looked everywhere for it. There’s no paperwork that I can find, no paintings that look valuable, and certainly no jewellery. If I don’t find a way out of this financial mess, I’m going to have to seriously consider selling The Brae, and I can’t bear the thought of losing everything Aunt Annabel worked so hard to achieve. I’d feel as if I’d let her down badly, not to mention you and the baby.’
‘I know you would, but you shouldn’t.’ Shani paused. ‘We need to discuss my rent.’
Bea shivered.
‘Bea,’ Shani said. ‘I know it’s awkward talking about these things, so I’ve contacted a rental agency and explained my situation. They suggested I pay you about two hundred pounds per week. Do you think that’s enough?’
That sounded fine to Bea. She needed approximately one thousand four hundred pounds each month. ‘Are you sure it isn’t too much for you?’ Shani was a supervisor at the gym, not an owner.
‘I’m happy as long as you are.’
Bea smiled. ‘That’s great. I can let Mr Peters know when I meet with him tomorrow.’ It had been much quicker working this out with Shani than she’d expected. Then again, Shani never liked to waste time messing about.
