A Twist of Fate (2 page)

In the distance, past the avenue of gleaming gold and copper trees, was the block of stables where her father, Griffin Maddox, had once housed Showbiz, the three-times Kentucky Derby champion.
And Starburst too, the show jumper that Thea’s mother, Alyssa, had ridden to gold in the 1960 Rome summer Olympics.

But Maddox – renowned newspaper editor, businessman and now CEO of Maddox Inc., the rapidly expanding global media group – was a betting man of a different sort these days. He rarely
rode his thoroughbred horses, or drove the customized Lotus or vintage Aston Martins in the estate’s garages, preferring instead to stay in Manhattan in the week, from where he could control
his burgeoning empire more efficiently.

And Alyssa Maddox? Well, she was the reason Thea was up so early. Thea was determined to learn to jump before Mama came home from the hospital. She knew it was her mother’s heart’s
desire to get back on a horse and ride with her only daughter, and Thea was going to make it happen. No matter what.

Mama had grown up in England, but had moved here when she’d inherited Little Elms from her grandparents, the McAdams, who had made their fortune in Manhattan real estate. They’d
built this estate as an embellished replica of their ancestral home in Scotland. Her inheritance had coincided with Alyssa falling for Griffin Maddox, and she’d left England behind and had
moved her heart and home here to Little Elms.

Thea never forgot how lucky she was to live here and, like her mother before her, felt that this place was her soul-home. A place where everything was right with the world.

Yes, everything would soon be back to normal, Thea was sure of it. Just as soon as this stupid cancer thing that her mama had got was over and she came home. Then Alyssa and Griffin Maddox would
be the toast of New England once more. There’d be the gymkhana in the spring and then, in the summer, all of Mama and Daddy’s glamorous friends would flock to the annual Maddox
ball.

Below her, Johnny, the head groomsman, slipped her polished boot into the stirrup and then patted her leg.

‘All done,’ he said, in his English accent, smiling at her. He was wearing his usual uniform of a mud-splattered Barbour jacket and riding boots, and when he looked up at her, she
saw that his tanned cheeks were flushed from the effort of readying her horse and bringing it up this early to the house.

Johnny and her mama had grown up together in England, and it had been Johnny who’d brought over the McAdams’ horses and had somehow never left to go back home.

‘Where’s Michael?’ Thea asked.

‘Probably finishing his chores,’ Johnny said, rubbing Flight’s flank and moving round to take the reins.

‘But you will show me
exactly
the jumps you taught him, won’t you, Johnny?’ Michael Pryor might be twenty months and five days older than she was, but he was a boy, and
Thea was determined that anything he could do, she could do better.

Johnny Faraday rubbed his eyebrows and smiled to himself. He might have known that as well as wanting to put a smile on her poor mother’s face, beating Michael was Thea’s motivation
for insisting on this extra lesson. He’d never met a child so tenacious or competitive as Thea. She was nearly eight years old, but she had the determination of an eighteen-year-old.

Johnny often wondered, like the other staff did, where her relationship with Michael would eventually lead. The Maddoxes had decided to home-educate Thea at Little Elms since Alyssa had been
diagnosed. But in this rarefied environment Michael Pryor was the only child her age and, at Thea’s insistence, they shared their lessons, as well as all their recreation time together.

Johnny couldn’t see it ending happily. Bright as Michael might be, he was still just the housekeeper’s son, and Thea Maddox was . . . well, just that, Theadora Maddox, an heiress
with a glittering future ahead of her. And the sky was the limit for a girl like Thea, with her ingrained belief that she was just as strong as any boy. Hell, Johnny thought, maybe she was right.
After all, if they could elect Margaret Thatcher as prime minister back home in England, who knew where Thea might land up one day, with all the opportunities she had here in the States.

The sad thing was that, personality-wise, she and Michael made a perfect match, despite coming from opposite ends of the social scale. God only knew what would happen once they hit puberty in a
few years’ time.

But that was the future, Johnny reminded himself, and for now Thea was just a little girl. So what if sparks flew when she and Michael rubbed each other up the wrong way? Johnny knew his job
could be a whole lot duller if Thea didn’t have the personality she did. She took after her mother, Johnny thought affectionately. The two of them were as tough as teak.

‘I sincerely hope you’re not encouraging Thea to attempt jumping anything too high,’ Mrs Douglas said, stepping out from the open back door.

Johnny put his hands on his wiry hips and smiled. Thea’s governess always looked as if she were dressed for church and chewing a sour lemon, and today was no different.

‘Now don’t work yourself up, Mrs D,’ Johnny replied, knowing how much this abbreviation of her name annoyed Mrs Douglas, who thought she was owed extra respect for having been
Alyssa Maddox’s governess back in England, as well as being her daughter’s now. ‘I’ve told you before, I’m perfectly capable of supervising Thea’s riding
lessons.’

Thea smiled, grateful as ever to anyone who would stick it to Mrs Douglas. Seeing the adult staff squabbling over how best to educate her was a common amusement.

‘Do be careful,’ Mrs Douglas called out, as Johnny led Flight across the gravel driveway towards the paddock.

‘We will,’ Johnny called back, saluting without turning around. ‘Now listen up,’ he told Thea, ‘don’t you let me down, or give her the satisfaction of proving
me wrong by getting hurt or anything.’

But Thea didn’t think for a second she would. Mama had been a famous show-jumper, so it only stood to reason that Thea should take after her.

Half an hour later Thea was out of breath, having cajoled Flight into jumping over the small bar ten times, without clipping it once.

‘Can Michael do it like that?’ Thea asked Johnny, circling round towards him.

‘Oh yes, Michael can do it just like that,’ a voice said, impersonating her.

Thea turned to see her best friend and rival, Michael Pryor, riding into the paddock on Buster, the scruffy and stubborn brown pony that was the joke of the riding stables, but which Michael
always managed to ride like a dream.

Unlike Thea, Michael didn’t have any correct riding attire. He was wearing tatty old jeans and a checked shirt under a denim jacket, and his honey-blond hair curled down across his brow
from beneath his green woolly hat.

‘He can do it just like that, but faster,’ he goaded, riding up beside her with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Oh, really?’ she said, her cheeks burning. ‘You mean faster than
this
?’

She kicked her heels into Flight and took a run up at the jump, willing her horse to make it over without a mistake. He did it and she felt a flush of satisfaction as she turned and saw Michael
sitting back on his saddle, applauding her.

‘Too easy. She can go higher, right, Johnny?’ Michael called. ‘I’ll help you raise the bar.’

Johnny nodded. In spite of Mrs Douglas’s earlier warning, he knew that Thea was more than ready to take on the bigger jumps. Plus he knew there was no way in hell that she’d shirk
from Michael’s challenge now.

‘You OK?’ Johnny asked, seeing the dark circles under Michael’s eyes, as he helped him with the jump.

‘I did Guido’s shift,’ Michael said in explanation.

Guido the gardener had a bad back, so Michael had covered for him, but Johnny knew he’d never let on to Thea that he was exhausted. It just wasn’t in the boy’s nature to
complain.

From the other end of the paddock, Thea watched Michael and Johnny stand back. The bar seemed at least two feet higher than before.

‘We can do it,’ she said, patting the soft neck of her horse, before circling once more, then setting Flight off cantering straight towards the jump.

This time, though, she got it all wrong. Instead of sailing majestically over the jump, before rounding on Michael and grinning in triumph, as she’d planned, Flight missed his stride
coming into the fence and, worse, landed awkwardly, throwing Thea clean out of her saddle and hard onto the ground.

Michael was the first to reach her. ‘Thea, Thea,’ he gasped, sliding to a halt on his knees by her side. ‘Oh God. It’s all my fault.’

Thea took a breath, determined not to cry in front of Michael. So she’d messed up. So what? That didn’t mean she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing her be a baby about it.
But then she saw that he wasn’t laughing at her at all.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, staring into her eyes.

She’d never noticed how lovely the golden specks in his hazel eyes were.

‘It’s not
your
fault.’ She managed to sit up. ‘Don’t they say: pride before a fall?’

Johnny arrived just as she was saying this and smiled with relief that she was clearly OK. He reached down and ruffled her blonde hair. It broke his heart that she sometimes said such grown-up
things when she was still only a little girl. He helped her to her feet.

‘Nothing broken, I hope?’ he said, picking up her riding hat and handing it back.

‘Not this time,’ Michael said, putting his arm around Thea’s shoulder and giving her a hug.

‘Ow,’ she winced, knowing her shoulder was almost certainly going to bruise. But she knew Michael hadn’t meant to hurt her, so she said more gently, ‘Get off, or
I’ll get boy fever.’

‘Yeah. Well, just don’t tell Mrs D or your father what happened, or he’ll probably fire me,’ Johnny said. He was smiling as he said it, but he meant it. Griffin Maddox
could be a tough bastard to work for, and this little girl was the apple of her father’s eye.

Thea laughed. ‘Of course not.’ The thought of ever getting any of the staff in trouble appalled her. She’d always thought of them being almost like family too.

But just as they were both about to help her back onto Flight, something snagged Thea’s attention. She shielded her eyes against the bright sun, with her now-muddy white riding glove.

A sleek black limo flashed between the avenue of trees. ‘Look! It’s Daddy.’

‘I’d better go warn Mom,’ Michael said, flashing a look at Johnny. ‘She wasn’t expecting them back till the weekend.’

But Thea wasn’t listening, she was already running away from him, diagonally across the paddock, her hat toppling from her head, as she waved her arms, with a wide happy smile on her
face.

She arrived, breathless, at the paddock gate as the black limousine drew up parallel with her on the gravel drive. She stood up on the wooden rung of the gate, her heart
beating with anticipation. She hadn’t seen her parents for the best part of a month, but surely, them being here could only mean one thing: her mother was better.

Mama was home.

But her hope fluttered and faded as Anthony, her father’s chauffeur, got out. He usually had a wink for her, or a smile, but today he wouldn’t meet her eyes. He walked quickly around
the car and opened the far passenger door.

Griffin Maddox stepped out, blinking into the morning light, and placed his black trilby on his head with a weary sigh. When she thought of her father, Thea always remembered him dressed in a
cowboy shirt – throwing her up in the air and laughing. How he always told her that she was the light of his life. How he’d one day teach her everything he knew. How everything that was
his would one day be hers.

But today the shadow of dark hair on his cheeks made his usually handsome face look haggard and worn.

‘Daddy,’ Thea called, but all he did by way of response was weightily lift his forefinger to his lips to signal her to be quiet. He was a tall, powerfully built man, who’d
rowed for Harvard in his youth. He was dressed in a fine camel coat, opened to reveal an immaculately tailored suit, but he moved stiffly as he walked around the car.

As she climbed quickly over the gate, Anthony opened the nearside passenger door and that’s when Thea saw her mother’s familiar leg stretch from the car down to the ground.

Thea stumbled and stopped, still five yards from the car. She felt her breath catch in her throat, as Anthony and her father helped her mother to stand.

Her mother looked so different. So desperately frail. She was wearing a brightly coloured swirly silk scarf wrapped around her head, but it only served to emphasize how much paler and more gaunt
she was.

Thea ran up to her mama and threw her arms around her, pressing herself against her fur coat. Her mother felt terrifyingly thin beneath it.

‘You’re home,’ Thea said, finally stepping back and forcing a brave smile onto her face.

‘Oh, Thea, my Theadora,’ her mother said softly. ‘My beautiful gift from God.’

She took Thea’s head in her hands and gently kissed her brow. Thea’s nose wrinkled. Despite her familiar perfume, her mama smelt strange – of chemicals and something else Thea
couldn’t put her finger on.

Her voice sounded different too. A scratchy, difficult whisper. She reached out her hand to Thea’s face. Her touch was so cold that Thea couldn’t help recoiling as she stared into
her mother’s sunken eyes.

‘Didn’t they make you better, Mama?’ Thea asked. She couldn’t stop herself. Everything she’d dreaded, everything she’d prayed for each night not to happen,
was coming true.

Her mother didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. As Thea looked into her eyes, she saw something terrible there, magnified by the pools of tears. Something she had no name for yet, but
which she’d one day come to recognize as sorrow of the deepest kind. The sorrow of saying goodbye.

Thea felt anger swell up inside her. Her father was Griffin Maddox. He had all the money in the world. As well as Dr Myerson, their family doctor, he’d paid for the best physicians.
Grown-ups like her father were meant to be able to fix everything. So why hadn’t they fixed her mama?