New beginnings by the su.., p.2
New Beginnings by the Sunflower Cliffs, page 2
‘What the hell is she on about?’ He raised his eyebrows, ignoring Mel.
‘You know perfectly well my godmother liked you, until she realised I wasn’t the only woman you were sleeping with,’ Bea snapped. ‘She changed her mind then, of course.’
‘We weren’t getting on. It wasn’t just my fault that our marriage broke down, you know. It takes two.’
Bea heard Mel’s sharp intake of breath behind her, knowing instinctively her sister was seconds from exploding with indignation. ‘Mel, why don’t you go through to the kitchen and pour us both a drink,’ Bea suggested, turning back to face Simon, his beautiful face contorted with spite. ‘This won’t take long.’
Mel did as she was asked and stomped down the hallway towards the kitchen.
Bea narrowed her eyes at Simon. ‘I suppose you’re here about your letter?’ Bea pulled out a crumpled tissue she found in the jacket pocket, and spat on it before rubbing it against the lipstick on her cheek. ‘I can’t believe you want half of this house. You’ve always hated it here and you know Aunt Annabel left it to me.’
‘Yes, she wanted to make sure you were looked after,’ he said, repeating her aunt’s often said words. ‘It’s not my fault your father has a scheming wife, or that your mother died. But the fact remains that your aunt died when we were still married.’ He lowered his face closer to hers. She could almost taste his minty breath. ‘Technically, we still are. And as such, the house is considered a matrimonial asset, and I, as your husband, am legally entitled to half of its value.’
The heat of her fury towards him almost gave her heartburn. How could he be so heartless to push her into selling Aunt Annabel’s house? ‘Legally maybe, not morally though.’ She recalled his letter. ‘And what exactly did you mean by D-Day?’
Simon smiled, looking satisfied with himself. ‘I thought that was rather clever, didn’t you?’ Bea glared at him. ‘Suit yourself. D-Day, Debt Day. Get it?’
Bea closed her eyes slowly, willing him to disappear. ‘Right. Very funny.’
‘I thought so. I don’t want you forgetting the date.’
‘I’m hardly likely to do that, am I?’ She’d had enough. ‘What did you want?’
‘I’ve settled in to the apartment with Claire. Maybe if we hadn’t moved in to live with your aunt our relationship might not have fallen apart so rapidly…’ he mused, then shrugged. ‘Anyway, I thought I’d collect one or two things I forgot to take with me when you threw me out.’ He straightened a picture on the wall before staring at it. ‘This is mine, I believe,’ he added, lifting the depiction of a bloody hunting scene Bea had always hated off the hook.
She took a deep breath and mentally braced herself. ‘Take the painting, Simon, and while you’re at it take yourself out of my house, and don’t bang on the door demanding to be let in like that again.’ Bea went to open the door.
‘Well, the door was locked.’ Simon put his hand out to stop her. ‘When the hell did you change the locks, anyway?’
Was he insane? ‘As soon as you left. When do you think?’ she asked, stunned by his ridiculous question.
‘You’ve changed, Beatrice,’ Simon said, lowering his voice. ‘You used to be kind and decent.’
Bea took a deep breath to steady her voice, stunned at his sheer nerve. ‘Really? I thought I still was.’ She concentrated on remaining calm, unable to believe they were covering the same old ground yet again. ‘Don’t forget, it was you who moved on, not me, so I don’t know why you’re always so offended by everything I do.’
‘Maybe if you were in a relationship too, you’d understand how I feel about Claire. Anyway, you know as well as I do that the only reason I left was because your interfering aunt made such a fuss and wound you up.’ He considered his next words and glared at her down his aquiline nose, the same nose she had not so long ago found very attractive, but now wanted desperately to hit, hard. ‘I’d still be living here with you if she hadn’t interfered.’
‘You mean if she hadn’t caught you with Claire. Don’t you think I might have discovered your girlfriend was pregnant at some point?’ She heard the catch in her voice and could have bitten her tongue. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Aunt Annabel found you practically having sex in Claire’s car. She had every right to be upset with you.’
‘Look, I am sorry about the baby. I know how that must hurt you.’ He went to put a hand on her shoulder, but Bea stepped back before he could reach her. Simon shrugged and looked over her shoulder at the run-down hallway. ‘Why can’t you stop trying to punish me for being happy? The trouble with you is you spent far too much time with that old woman. Annabel might have been your godmother, and I understand how she took over when your mum died, but she’s gone now. You need to stop hanging on to this heap of rubble. Then we can both move on.’
Bea didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her temper, or even worse, get upset. Her life had not worked out as she had planned and it hurt like hell, but she wasn’t going to let him know how she felt. She clasped her hands together. ‘I’ve already moved on, Simon, regardless of what you choose to believe.’
‘Whatever you say.’ He laughed, glancing at his latest Cartier watch. ‘I couldn’t care less, but I do want to know when you intend paying me my share of this mausoleum?’
Bea wondered if he was simply trying to punish her for not forgiving him for his affair when he’d asked her to. She felt the familiar nervous tingle expanding in her stomach. ‘Simon, I don’t know why you insist I buy you out of this place. You’re a lawyer. You earn far more than I ever will and didn’t need any extra money to buy your new apartment. The house was left to me, not you. Why don’t we stop arguing and get this matter sorted, then we can have our decree absolute and neither of us have to bother with the other again.’
Simon groaned. ‘Yes, well, are you going to get a mortgage to pay me what I’m owed, or am I going to take you to court to get an order for the damn money?’
Bea hesitated. She didn’t have the money to fight him through the courts and he knew it. ‘Simon, it’s almost impossible to get a mortgage now, you know that as well as anyone. I’m going to need a little more time.’
‘Time to find a way out of paying me, you mean.’
‘No. I need to come up with a solution and you bullying me won’t make it happen any sooner.’
‘My lawyer explained everything in his letter to you. You have a year and a day from the date your aunt died, which will be when probate is concluded. That’s May 10th next year. I think that’s more than enough time to find a mortgage. You’re the one insisting on keeping this crumbling 1920’s dump, but Claire’s given up work now she’s pregnant and has decided she doesn’t want to return when the baby’s born. I need to get my finances sorted once and for all. We’re going to get married as soon as the divorce is finalised and that can’t happen until we’ve sorted the finances, so I’m not giving you any longer than I have to.’
‘I’m not selling my house.’ Bea clenched her fists.
He leant towards her, his eyes like steely flints. ‘Be realistic, it’s a mess.’ He flung his arms wide, as if to encompass the cold hallway.
‘That’s my problem,’ she said, knowing Aunt Annabel’s legacy had been her magnificent garden with its endless species of plants she’d brought back over the decades from her travels.
Simon stepped back and made a point of looking her up and down for a final time. Shaking his head slowly, he sniggered before turning his back on her and marched outside towards his gleaming BMW.
Bea slammed the heavy oak door as hard as she could, realising too late it was not a good idea as a smattering of plaster cascaded like icing sugar on to the worn slate floor next to her.
She slumped down onto the bishop’s seat. It wasn’t in keeping with the period of the property, but Bea had bought it at her first auction with her godmother when she was sixteen. The cool, familiar grain in the wood soothed her. It was all very well, this bravado, Bea mused, but how was she going to afford to sort out the house?
‘Drink,’ Mel insisted, handing her a double gin and tonic, and settling down next to her. ‘That man is such a moron. It’s bad enough he did the dirty on you, let alone he still feels he has control over every aspect of your life. He must earn so much more than you, too.’
Bea shrugged miserably. ‘Unfortunately, he does.’ She took a mouthful of the refreshing liquid, and swallowed gratefully. ‘Can you imagine he thought he could still use his key to get in?’
They sat silently in the hallway as her temper gradually subsided. Glancing at her newly French-manicured nails as they cupped the glass, she noticed for the first time the groove on her finger where her wedding ring used to be was finally fading. Soon there would be no trace of it at all. No trace of the Beatrice Porter of old. ‘Mel, I’m not sure I can face going out,’ she admitted. ‘I look a mess and—’
‘And nothing,’ Mel interrupted standing up in front of her. ‘It’s my engagement party.’ She held out her hands, displaying the brilliant diamond solitaire. ‘When was the last time you were invited to celebrate something at Elizabeth Castle? You’re not going to miss a second of it. It’s not often we get out there and I want tonight to be special. You’re my sister — well, half-sister — and you’re going to enjoy yourself, whether you like it or not.’
Bea couldn’t help laughing. ‘Poor Grant, he doesn’t have a clue what he’s let himself in for, does he?’
‘No.’ Mel nudged her sister and smiled conspiratorially. ‘He doesn’t, and you’re not going to tell him, either.’
Bea stepped off the castle ferry that had taken them to the tiny island in the bay, wishing she’d thought to wear more sensible heels. She gazed up at the turrets from the small docking area, amused that Mel had chosen somewhere so romantic to hold her engagement party. Following the signpost inside to the party area, Bea spotted Shani and Paul by the bar. No surprise there then, Bea smiled, amused to see her two closest friends deep in conversation. How they ever stopped talking long enough to fit in their jobs giving classes at the largest gym complex in town, she couldn’t imagine.
‘Hi, you two,’ she said hugging them both. She looked down at Paul’s blond head. ‘These weren’t the best idea,’ she said, showing off her heels. ‘I don’t know why I thought they would be.’
‘Only Mel could insist we all travel somewhere you have to get to by boat,’ Shani said. ‘I was hoping it’d be a little cooler in a castle, but these rooms are still hot.’
Bea nodded. She’d thought the same thing. She fanned her face with her bag. ‘I love your hair, Shan.’
‘If she has it any shorter everyone will assume she’s had it shaved off completely.’ Paul laughed. ‘Shan, without that girly face you could be mistaken for a bloke. Tall, no boobs, no hair.’
Shani laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Don’t start with me! We might be flatmates, but you know I’m tougher than you’ll ever be.’
‘You two act like an old married couple sometimes,’ Bea said, wincing at Paul’s horrified expression.
‘What a horrible thought.’ He shuddered. ‘Anyway, even if I was interested in women I can’t imagine she’d be my type.’
Bea shook her head, so used to their banter and constant bickering. ‘If people didn’t know you two were so fond of each other they might be concerned by the way you converse.’ She pulled a face at Shani, so tall in her own heels that she towered over them both.
‘You’re looking gorgeous,’ Shani said. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually out tonight.’
Bea nodded to where Mel was chatting to a group of her friends. ‘Didn’t have much choice, did I? I wasn’t sure I would be much fun tonight after Simon’s appearance at the house earlier.’
Paul narrowed his dark blue eyes. ‘Bea, sweetheart, tonight is a Simon-free zone.’ He put an arm around her protectively. ‘It’s Mel’s night, and however annoying she may be, we’re not going to let that spiteful prat ruin your fun.’ He paused. ‘Bloody hell, it’s a little warm in here, isn’t it?’
‘Agreed,’ Bea smiled, feeling better already. ‘We’re going to have a great evening.’ She glanced around the grand room full of her sister’s guests. ‘Have Dad and Joyce arrived yet?’
‘Can’t have done, we haven’t heard a drumroll announcing her entrance.’ Paul grimaced. ‘I don’t know how your dad copes with the two of them in that house. Poor man must be a saint.’
‘Look, there they are. Oh my God, Joyce’s hair looks like a mutation of Margaret Thatcher’s hairdo and a dollop of candyfloss.’ Shani giggled and shook her head.
‘She does the mother-of-the-bride bit to perfection, doesn’t she?’ Paul said. Bea and Shani laughed. ‘Behave yourself, girls. Now, on to lighter matters. Have we all seen the ring?’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Assuming we have, what do we all think? Shani, you first.’
Shani mulled the question over for a second or two. ‘It’s pretty spectacular, that’s all I know. It must have cost him a fortune.’
At the other side of the room Grant held up a glass and tapped it with a pen, calling for everyone’s attention. ‘Melanie and I,’ Grant said, stepping nervously from one foot to the other, ‘would like to thank you all for coming and sharing our celebrations with us on this steamy July evening.’ Mel giggled and Bea ignored Paul’s dig to her ribs. ‘We’ve chosen our dream date and so that there are no excuses, we’re going to let you all know exactly when our big day will be.’ He winked at Mel. ‘So, I want you all to keep Liberation Day free!’
‘What did he say?’ Shani hissed, her arched black eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Bea could hardly form the words. ‘They’re setting her wedding date for the 9th of May?’
Bea’s heart pounded so much at the prospect, that she thought the others would hear it. ‘It seems so,’ she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.
‘But that’ll be the first anniversary of your Aunt Annabel’s death.’ Shani folded her tanned arms across her chest. ‘Little bitch.’
Bea took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She caught her stepmother’s triumphant expression across the room as she dabbed her tear-filled eyes with a perfectly ironed, lace handkerchief and determined not to let Joyce see how upset this news had made her.
‘Joyce is such a cow,’ Paul said, a little too loudly for Bea’s liking. ‘I bet she’s done it on purpose.’
Shani put her arm around Bea’s shoulders not hearing what else, if anything, Grant was saying. It was enough that she would have to face that dreadful day at all without having to look happy at her half-sister’s wedding.
‘Right, come on – I’m getting too irritated to carry on just standing here.’ Paul cupped his ear. ‘Do you hear that?’ he asked, grabbing Shani’s hand as the speech finished and the first strains of ‘You’re the One That I Want’ began filling the room. ‘Come along girls, let’s give it loads.’
Bea let them go to the dance floor and shook her head when they waved for her to join them. The room was far too hot. Bea needed some air and, relieved to have a quiet moment, picked up her bag and gingerly crossed the room and out through the open sliding doors, trying her best not to wobble. She wondered if it were the heels that were unbalancing her, or the overly polished parquet flooring that was the problem. She touched the cool granite castle wall before walking up to the metal railings and leaning against them, gazing across the bay where yachts moved gently in the calm sea. Bea sighed.
‘You’re not thinking of jumping, are you?’ a baritone voice asked from the other side of the Canary palm next to her. ‘Bit of a drastic way to make your escape, don’t you think?’
Bea would recognise that brusque tone anywhere. She leaned precariously over the balcony in a vain attempt to peer around the tree. ‘Fancy seeing you again so soon, Mrs Potter.’ He touched her shoulder lightly from behind.
Bea swung round, embarrassed to have been caught looking the wrong way, grabbed at the palm frond to move it away from her face and slipped on the floor, landing with a heavy slap on her bum. ‘Ouch.’
‘Sorry.’ He tried to stifle his laughter. ‘I didn’t mean to give you a fright. Here.’ He held his hand out for her to take. ‘Let me help you up.’
She closed her eyes momentarily, wishing he would disappear, and then looked up into those sparkly blue eyes as he waited patiently for her to take his hand. ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled, her heels not gripping the ground enough to let her stand up.
Luke bent down. ‘Put your arms around my neck,’ he said, barely hiding a smile.
Unable to see any other way she’d manage to stand without taking off the damn shoes, she reached up and took hold of him. Their faces millimetres apart, she breathed in the heady scent of his citrusy aftershave. Tingles shot to various parts of her anatomy she didn’t want to think about right now, and as Luke placed her carefully back onto her feet, he stood upright and smiled. ‘I hope you’re not too sore.’
She could barely breathe as she looked up at him, so different now with his hair cut slightly shorter and his beard trimmed. Bea rubbed her bottom to sooth the bruising pain. There was something very appealing about him, despite how he enjoyed her small humiliation, and she knew without a doubt that the self-assured Adonis in front of her was the very last man on Earth she should allow herself to fall for.
3
SCORCHING HOT
Luke had to try hard not to let Bea see how amused he’d been by her confusion. Her eyes were the deepest jade he’d ever seen. They were so pretty, despite being narrowed in irritation, as she appeared to be stuck for words.
‘My name’s Beatrice.’ She stepped forward, waving away the palm frond.
‘Beatrix Potter,’ he mused slowly, unable to help teasing her for a little longer.
The green eyes narrowed even further. ‘No, it’s Beatrice with a ‘c’ and Porter with an ‘r’ and I’ll be changing my surname back to Philips first thing next week,’ she said, straightening her short skirt and pulling her shoulders back so that she reached her full height of, he estimated, about five feet four without those heels.
