Authors: Christine Stovell
Tags: #General, #Contemporary Women, #Family & Relationships, #Love & Romance, #Romance, #sailing, #Contemporary, #boatyard, #Fiction
Taking a deep breath, May shook herself free. It really was a very quiet spot and now she longed for someone to pass by. She glanced over her shoulder, to the path they had followed to see if anyone was in sight.
Aiden saw her looking and gave a short laugh. ‘So you
do
think I’m a monster,’ he said in disbelief. He got to his feet and stood over her, his expression unreadable against the sun. ‘I’m not the bad guy here, May. It’s everyone else. You’re confused, that’s all. I would never harm you. I want to look after you.’
‘I can look after myself,’ she said, getting up to face him, which, she realised with a faint shock, was easy to do after spending time with Bill who was so much taller than him.
‘We’ll see, shall we? For a start, it’ll be interesting to see how you’ll get by when word gets out that you’ve unlawfully ended your contract. It may have slipped your mind, perhaps, that assuming you do work again I still have a stake in your future earnings.’
He gave her a sweet smile and pulled her towards him. ‘Come on now, May,’ he said, stroking her hair, ‘you’ve got yourself in quite a state, haven’t you? Now, listen, I’m a reasonable man, I’m not about to force you to do anything you don’t want to. I’m happy for you to take a couple of weeks off and get yourself sorted out.’
He released her and fished in the pocket of his black jacket to pull out a card, which he held out to her. ‘This is where I’m staying, Walton House. I’ll give you two days to come to your senses, then I recommend you come and find me.’
May folded her arms to make it plain she wasn’t going to give into his bullying. Aiden tapped the card against his lips and seemingly remembered something. ‘It’s your poor mother I feel sorry for. She’s got herself into all sorts of trouble worrying about you. Shame, isn’t it? ’
She laughed in disbelief. ‘Nice try, Aiden, but believe me, my mother can take care of herself.’
‘You think I’m joking? Why don’t you call her and find out? Oh, she’s in a mess all right, but nothing we can’t sort out as soon as you come home. Just don’t leave it too long.’ He caught hold of her waistband and shoved his hand and the card down the front of her jeans. ‘And, May?’
She braced herself for the cutting comment.
‘I understand that you ran away to sea to crew on some feeble old man’s boat. Is that so?’
‘It’s really nothing to do with you,’ she managed to say.
‘Oh, but I think it is,’ he said, walking away. ‘Imagine how unhappy I’d be if I find out you’ve been economical with the truth.’
As soon as she was sure she was alone again May flopped down in the grass and stared at the clear blue sky whilst her breath steadied and her soaring heart rate slowed. Aiden had just proved he could find her again whenever he liked, but next time she’d be ready for him. The sun was hot on her face so she rolled over to let it warm her back, glancing at her watch as she did so. High noon, and she hadn’t backed down. She rested her chin on her folded arms, proud of her small victory.
Could do with a bath! Hah! A couple of days of topping and tailing at sea where there was no shower hadn’t bothered Bill. Cutting loose from Aiden, even for such a short period, had given her enough distance to see his coercive and threatening behaviour for what it was. Severing their professional relationship, with its contractual ties, was another problem altogether. As for the stuff about her mum, well, she thought, reaching for her phone, she could dismiss that nonsense right now.
Cathy rubbed her throbbing temples while she waited for her daughter to fill the silence. ‘Oh come on, May,’ she said at last when no reply was forthcoming. ‘Let’s just see how it goes for now. What else is Aiden going to do with the shop? He’s not making any money with it all the time it’s sitting there doing nothing. Once he cools down and realises his attempt to cause mischief has backfired, I can probably work something out with him. Perhaps he’ll be more amenable to the idea of me repaying the debt at a slower rate?’
May’s snort of disbelief was quite audible even through a bad mobile signal. ‘You can’t negotiate with him because it’s not about money, it’s about control – you know that! I’ve dared to show that I’m strong enough to stand up to him, but he’s not some playground bully. He’ll bide his time and think of another way to try to make me do what he wants. When he does, I want to be ready for him – so, no cutting deals behind my back, please.’
Cathy fumbled for a roll-up, lit it and inhaled deeply. ‘May? Are you sure you’re not getting the professional and the personal muddled up? You might not want to live with the guy any more, but it’s his determination and backing that made you so successful—’
‘Oh, and there was I thinking it was my talent!’ May sounded very annoyed.
Cathy breathed twin plumes of smoke out through her nostrils and shook her head. This was coming out wrong. ‘What I meant was that if you do any more damage to your career, you might regret it later.’
‘And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?’ May said in a sarcastic voice that sounded very unlike the sweet, obedient daughter she was used to. ‘Being as you’ve made such a success of running a shop!’
‘Some of us,’ Cath said, smarting, ‘haven’t had golden opportunities falling in our lap.
You
haven’t had to worry about cash flow problems and juggling suppliers, or wonder which utility bill is most urgent. You haven’t had to worry about anything practical. You’ve had Aiden taking care of all that for you. What little I had, I worked my butt off to get – and now it’s all gone! So take a good hard look at what you stand to lose before you walk away. It’s all right for you to look down your nose at how I chose to earn my living, but when the money stops coming in, you might have to be grateful for what you can get.’
‘This is not,’ she heard her daughter say slowly, ‘about my career. It’s about my welfare, Mum. I thought you’d understand. But fine, if the shop’s that important to you, you’d better hope that Aiden’s the reasonable guy you seem to think he is.’
The call ended and Cathy took a deep drag of her cigarette. So May had finally learned to stand up for herself. That was good, wasn’t it?
May curled up on her side, hoping there was no one else to fight as she was rapidly running out of steam. Her guard went up again, though, as the peaceful burble of wading birds trilling to each other as they scoured the shoreline was broken by a human intervention. The footsteps coming towards her were too light to be Aiden or Bill. She peered through the long grass apprehensively as her bravery suddenly deserted her.
‘I had a hunch you might be here.’
Sheepishly, May sat up to face Harry Watling, hands on her hips, regarding her inquisitively.
‘This is where I always come when I need time out,’ Harry said, tugging at the knees of her baggy dungarees as she sat down beside her.
‘It must be tough juggling the business with having a baby,’ May observed, as if they were simply making idle conversation instead of watching each other for signs of trouble.
‘Sometimes,’ Harry agreed, stretching toned, tanned arms out in front of her. ‘Although Matthew’s brilliant. He’s looking after Georgia now … but that’s not why I’m here.’
‘Bill,’ May said miserably, sweeping her hair back from her face. ‘He must be wondering what the heck is going on.’
‘He’s not the only one,’ Harry agreed. ‘Your friend wasn’t looking very happy either when he roared away in his black Mercedes, disturbing the peace.’
May didn’t like the tartness in Harry’s voice one bit. ‘I don’t really see what it’s got to do with you,’ she said, getting into the hang of defending herself. ‘And I don’t suppose you’d understand if I tried to explain.’
‘I don’t
have
to understand,’ Harry said, visibly seething. ‘What about Bill? Don’t you think you owe
him
an explanation? He’s beside himself trying to be in three places at once and he doesn’t need to be worrying about you. You should have seen him when he arrived back at the yard after a long stint up at the hospital. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look that all that was keeping him going was the thought of seeing you. Only you’d made off with your friend by then and I wasn’t about to let him chase after you. He hung around not knowing when and if you were going to return, worrying about work, worrying about his uncle until I told him to go off and do what he had to do. I said I’d tell him when there was news, but it might be better coming from you, don’t you think?’
May stiffened. ‘Bill and I, we’re not— That is, I only delivered the boat with him.’
‘Oh really,’ Harry said, giving her a withering look. ‘Judging by the body language going on between the pair of you last night and the heat coming off the boat, I’d say there was a bit more to it than that.’
They stared at each other, equally cross. Harry Watling could think what she liked, May decided, determined not to give her the satisfaction of a reply when it was none of her bloody business.
Harry leaned forward. ‘If Bill was the fuck you’d prefer to forget, you’d better tell him soon and get back to your boyfriend before he gets involved too. So if you’ve reached dry land and you’ve discovered you’ve made a complete tit of yourself, it’s kinder for you to tell Bill now. He’s got far too much on his mind to waste his emotions on someone who’s only been stringing him along.’
‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ May said fiercely, stung because she knew Bill wasn’t going to like what she’d have to tell him. ‘Nothing happened, certainly not what you’re thinking, but the last thing I want is to cause Bill extra worry. Getting building work in the current climate must be difficult enough without him being thrown off a site because he’s not safe to be there. With all the additional costs he must be incurring caring for his uncle, I know he can’t afford to be unemployed.’
Harry was giving her a sideways look. ‘May, just what is it you think Bill does?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know what line he’s in exactly, but I know he’s some kind of builder.’
For the first time since joining her, Harry laughed. ‘Don’t let that happy-go-lucky exterior fool you. Bill’s the renaissance man of restoration buildings! He’s a trained architect, part-time lecturer at Great Spitmarsh College and heads up a very successful business which specialises in the conservation and restoration of listed properties. He runs a team of twelve tradesmen who mainly cover the stuff like electrics, plumbing, carpentry, plastering, et cetera, but Bill’s very hands on and loves to get involved. He enjoys the practical experience of working on sites, so he just can’t keep away from them. No, May, he isn’t “just” a builder.’
May blew out softly and leaned back to adjust her impression of Bill in the light of this new information when Harry broke into her thoughts.
‘But he’s not the only one who hasn’t been exactly forthcoming. There’s more to you than you’ve told Bill, isn’t there?’ she added quietly.
May looked up warily.
‘Men!’ Harry said with a short laugh. ‘They only see what’s right under their noses at times. Matthew didn’t recognise you either. But that’s why that bloke was keen to find you, wasn’t it? That’s why he asked me earlier if
Lucille
was new to the pool. I recognise his voice now; he’s phoned the office a couple of times trying to find out which boats were about. I knew he wasn’t a pukka buyer. I thought he might be a competitor sniffing around to see if it was worth buying me out – but he wasn’t looking for a boat, was he? He was looking for you. Is he someone in the business, or is it something more personal?’
May groaned. ‘It’s such a mess! I just wanted everything to stop, for everyone to leave me alone so I could think.’
‘Running away from your problems is a race you’ll never win. That’s what my old assistant, George, would have said,’ Harry insisted. ‘And my dad used to tell me if you’re in a corner, you come out fighting.’
‘I’m
trying
to fight my corner!’ May replied. It was all very well for the woman whose life looked so rosy and uncomplicated to tell her what to do – Harry had no idea of the battles she was facing. ‘But I can’t just come out waving my fists. I need a plan of action and a place to stay where I won’t be disturbed. What hope is there of me finding that?’
Harry snorted. ‘Even Little Spitmarsh is heaving with summer visitors. It used to be a sleepy old-fashioned seaside town too run down for anyone to bother with. When my husband bought the old Spitmarsh Yacht Club and decided to turn it into an upmarket restaurant, things started to change. Sometimes I don’t recognise the place myself: arty-farty types visiting the galleries and film festival, food writers reporting on the restaurant. We even have yummy mummies now!’
‘You looked quite a yummy mummy yourself when I met you yesterday,’ May pointed out. Harry’s husband certainly looked as if he thought she was good enough to eat.
‘Though not in my grubby work dungarees today, eh?’ Harry laughed, her face softening. ‘To be honest, I never thought I’d be any kind of mummy, but a lot of things have changed since Matthew came along.’
May thought how lovely it would be to have someone solid to support you; a partnership of loving equals. Then Harry spoke again. ‘Tell you what, though, if you’re serious about needing some real time out, I might be able to help. Come with me.’
Bill was doing his best to keep his temper and not bombard May with questions. Of course he didn’t have any claim on her, or any right to demand to know just exactly what she was playing at. But a week was a long time on a small boat, especially a small boat whose safe delivery offered hope to a very sick man.
Alone with May in the cockpit, he discovered that his doubts about her eligibility as crew were unfounded as she happily followed his instructions, holding
Lucille
on course through all sea conditions whilst he tweaked the sails. The hours spent in companionable silence just listening to the creaking of the mast and the boom, the wind whistling through the shrouds and waves rushing past the hull had been an important time. A respite from his worries and a sense that he could just relax and trust in their excellent teamwork to bring the boat to Little Spitmarsh. Everything he’d wished for in other words. So why had everything changed so abruptly as soon as they returned to dry land?
He was convinced they had the beginnings of a lasting relationship. Had he really misread the signs so badly? Did he mean nothing to her? He glanced across to May in the passenger seat beside him staring silently out the window. The late-afternoon sun cast her in gold light, and she sat there as still as a statue. He hadn’t actually expected her to agree to Cecil’s request to visit, so fair play to her for giving up her evening to go with him. But what
had
caused his stomach to sink with disappointment was how easily she’d slipped away from him and back to her old life.
Given how quickly her ex had arrived on the scene, he couldn’t help wonder if she’d been in touch with him all along. He had his suspicions too about whether it really was over between them as May had insisted. As for all the heat and passion on the boat? Hadn’t he been the one to suggest what happened on there, stayed there? If she’d simply been testing her feelings, he guessed she was feeling pretty embarrassed about that now. Well, he still had his pride. If she wasn’t going to talk about it, neither was he.
‘I can see why there’s no coast road to Great Spitmarsh,’ she said at last. ‘It’s just creeks and marshland from here. No wonder Little Spitmarsh is so cut off. Do you miss living so far away from civilisation?’
Bill felt his chest tighten, irritated to be addressed like a country bumpkin. ‘People have time for each other here away from the hustle and bustle of big towns,’ he said mildly. ‘It’s not a wealthy part of the world, but I have a roof over my head and enough money to get by. What’s uncivilised about that?’
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, her face flushed. ‘But some people might find it too quiet.’
‘Not me.’ Bill said firmly. ‘I’ve lived in the south. I went there to—’ he nearly said ‘train’ but what was the point in complicating matters. May thought he was a simple builder so he’d leave it at that. ‘—to find work,’ he resumed. ‘Later, thanks to Matthew, local opportunities picked up and after my divorce there was nothing to keep me in the south so I came back here.’
‘To where you grew up?’
Bill frowned at her interest. Why bother asking questions when they were going their separate ways? ‘When Mum died,’ he found himself telling her, ‘Cecil took early retirement here from the Foreign Office. He bought a small antique shop in Little Spitmarsh – more of a hobby for him, though what he’ll do with it now remains to be seen – and I went to live with him.’ Bill refrained from mentioning that Cecil had also paid for his education, sending him to the public school where he’d played rugby and met Matthew Corrigan, who was a few years above him.
‘And now you’re taking care of him,’ May said quietly.
Yes, it was his turn to look after Cecil, and he was glad to do it, to repay the old man for giving him a home. But suddenly he wasn’t so sure it was much of a kindness to introduce May to him. Making small talk with a stranger, especially one he’d never see again, seemed unnecessarily stressful for a man who was so ill. The sign for Great Spitmarsh General Hospital was looming in front of them, but there was still time to talk May out of her visit. After driving round several times Bill finally spotted a car pulling out of a space and was able to park. ‘Are you sure you want to do this? I can always make an excuse for you.’
‘No, you don’t need to do that,’ May said, meeting his gaze properly for the first time. ‘If it’s going to help your uncle then of course I want to see him.’