Moving On (15 page)

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Authors: Anna Jacobs

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BOOK: Moving On
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He chuckled. ‘
She
won’t do anything about it, and even if she tried, she’d get nowhere. Her own children don’t believe her.’
‘I still feel guilty about you telling Brian and Rachel their mother was drunk at the wedding.’
He drew her into his arms. ‘Trust me, it was necessary. I don’t want her interfering in their lives, mucking theirs up as she’s mucked up her own.’ He kissed her then pulled back a little and smiled down at her. ‘You’re thinking too much tonight, my love. Let’s forget Molly.’
Tasha melted into his arms, as always. She was needy in bed and that really turned him on. He’d never met anyone before who could match him for that.
In the middle of the night, the sensor buzzed and Stuart sat up in bed, instantly awake.
‘What is it?’ Wendy asked, her voice fuzzy with sleep.
‘Nothing you need to bother about. I’ll see to it.’ He ran downstairs and slipped out through the conservatory door, which couldn’t be seen from the street. As he moved from one patch of shadow to another, he could see a youth straddling the top of the wall, speaking to someone below him on the other side and reaching down for something.
As the youth hefted a heavy object in his hand, clearly about to throw it, Stuart pre-empted him by firing the paintball gun. Years of weapons training had given him the skill to hit the intruder smack in the shoulder with dye that was indelible and would spray all over his face and hand.
With a yell, the youth tumbled from the wall and there was a jabber of low voices. Stuart ran forward and stood on a rock to shoot over the wall at the other one. He heard a yelp and then running footsteps.
Bit of luck, there, he thought with a grin. They were slow on the uptake, overconfident. He’d not expected two bullseyes. His sensor was set to give warning when someone started to climb the wall, and that lad had probably thought everyone was asleep so there was no need to hurry.
Stuart waited quietly for ten minutes but they didn’t come back.
When he went in, Wendy was awake, which didn’t surprise him. She hadn’t put the bedroom light on. He’d never stopped being thankful that he’d married a smart woman.
‘What happened, Stu?’
He explained and she asked eagerly, ‘What colour did you use?’
‘Yellow. Rather a bright shade actually, rather like those highlighter pens.’
She chuckled. ‘I’d love to see him try to scrub it off.’
‘Them. I hit two of them. I wonder how they’ll explain that to people.’
‘With difficulty. Is what you’ve done legal?’
‘Who knows? I’m sorry, Your Worship. I don’t think I hurt them in any way. I certainly didn’t intend to. I only wanted to frighten them away. You see, they’d driven away the owner with similar tricks and my wife was getting nervous.’
She punched him in the upper arm. ‘You’d say that with a straight face, too.’
‘I would indeed. I don’t believe in giving crims, even the minor sort, a fair chance.’
‘What other tricks have you installed?’
‘Wait and see. I’m hoping they won’t be necessary.’ He settled down in bed with a happy sigh. ‘And there are more gadgets to come. I had to order some from overseas.’
That evening Molly settled down in her new home, feeling lazy but satisfied with her day’s shopping. The caravan was now well stocked for her current needs and the only thing missing was a television set. She’d decided not to buy one, and had bought a book and one of her favourite magazines instead, but now, sitting surrounded by silence, she wished she had a television.
If she’d had one of those fancy mobile phones, she could have got hold of some music, but Craig had taken her fancy mobile with him when he left, saying it was a business expense, his backup phone. She hadn’t known whether he was telling the truth or not, hadn’t protested or found out.
What a fool she’d been! She cringed to remember how she’d given in to him over all sorts of mutual possessions. She’d bought a cheap mobile but she missed the other one. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that she hadn’t had time to wipe the personal information off it.
She fidgeted around, unable to settle. After all the evenings she’d spent alone in the past year or two, you’d think she’d be used to silence by now, but she wasn’t, not complete silence like this anyway. She’d had such a busy social life until Craig left her that being on her own for much of the time was still difficult. When the children were younger, there’d been all the school functions to attend, always something going on. She enjoyed being busy.
That’d make a strange dream to tell Avril about, wouldn’t it? To be busy all the time. But if it made her happy, why not? Once she settled somewhere, maybe she could do some voluntary work with old people. Most people found kids’ charities more appealing but older folk deserved help, too. She loved listening to their stories of when they were young.
She should be thankful for the progress she’d made, getting a job and a temporary home. Taking out her one and only bottle of wine, she poured herself a glass. ‘To my new home,’ she said aloud, raising it in a salute.
Just then someone knocked on the door and she jerked in shock, causing wine to splash from her glass on to her hand. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching, so was glad she’d locked the door. She grabbed her brand new tea towel and wiped her hand, calling, ‘Who is it?’
‘Only me, Euan.’
She unlocked the door at once.
‘I’m glad to see you’re security conscious. I came to check that everything was all right before I went home.’
‘It’s fine. More than fine. I love your caravan. Come in, do.’
‘I’m not disturbing you?’
‘Not at all. I was just having a drink to celebrate being here. Would you like a glass of wine?’
‘Better not. I missed dinner again. I don’t like drinking on an empty stomach.’
‘I’ve got some quiche and salad, a nice crusty roll, too.’
‘But that’s probably your meal for tomorrow.’
It was, but she didn’t care. She’d far rather have his company. ‘Only my lunch and I can easily buy a baguette at the hotel café. Do come in.’
‘Thank you, then.’ He entered and shut the door behind him, locking it. Then he saw her looking surprised. ‘Habit. I always did lock this door on the world. Do you want me to unlock it again?’
‘No. I probably share your habit these days.’ She poured him a glass of wine in one of the cheap glasses she’d bought for less than a pound for four, then busied herself getting him the quiche and salad.
When she turned, he was sitting at the table, looking very much at home. He ate the food like a man who was ravenous, so she got out the rest of the quiche.
‘I’m taking all your food.’
‘Oh, I bought a few other things as well. And it’s a poor person who can’t offer food to a friend.’
He raised his glass again. ‘Here’s to new friendships, then. May they last till they become old ones.’
She clinked her glass against his and sipped, leaning back and trying not to watch him eat, which was bad manners. Instead she focused on his hands, which were long-fingered and surprisingly graceful for a man. Not manicured and soft, like Craig’s; hands that worked physically, judging by a long scratch on the back of one. Yet still attractive.
When he’d finished eating, he made a satisfied noise then stared down at the plate. ‘Would you feel demeaned if I asked you to keep my house stocked up with quick, easy foods like this, once I’ve moved into the village? I’ll pay you at the same hourly rate as the rest of your job for doing it.’
She chuckled. ‘Why should I feel demeaned? I’m employed as a general factotum, aren’t I? That means doing anything legal that you need, as far as I’m concerned.’
‘My last so-called secretary objected to doing anything that wasn’t connected to her desk and computer, then she tried to set me up for harassment when she left.’
‘What?’
‘Not sexual harassment, job harassment. Fortunately, we found suspicious copies of my accounts in her personal drawer, and I’d called the union representative in, so it was all cleared up and she didn’t have a leg to stand on. But it could have been messy – and very bad PR for my development.’
‘What a good thing you stopped her!’
‘Isn’t it? Avril’s going to find me the next secretary and I trust her judgement much more than my own where that’s concerned. She thinks a friend of hers would come in part-time for a while and she’ll fill in the rest herself till she’s sure she can safely leave me.’
‘She’s very fond of you, isn’t she?’
‘And I’m fond of her. She’s seen me through some difficult times.’ He hesitated, then stared down at his hands, as he said, ‘My wife died suddenly a few years ago, a stroke. Karen was only thirty-seven and it was totally unexpected. I rather went to pieces, I’m afraid. My sons were shocked rigid and at a vulnerable age. Something like that should bring you closer to your children, shouldn’t it? Instead, they clung to one another and now they’re closer than some twins, and I withdrew into myself.
‘Then Avril became our universal auntie and I don’t know what we’d have done without her. The boys keep in touch with her more than they keep in touch with me, though they do condescend to send me emails now and then.’ His fond smile said that it was more than just a cool relationship.
‘Tell me about them.’
‘Jason’s twenty-four. He’s working in California. He’s in IT. Grant’s twenty-two. He’s just finished university and is backpacking round the world. Heaven knows where he is at the moment. It’s a bit worrying generally, but even more so when they get to the Far East.’
‘It must be.’
After another sip of wine, he looked up and gave her one of his warm smiles. ‘What about your children, Molly?’
‘I have a son and a daughter and . . . and they’re not s-speaking to me.’ Suddenly she was weeping, found herself in his arms and wept harder against the comfort and strength of his chest. It was as if a dam had burst. He said her name a couple of times in a gentle, caring way, patting her back. Gradually, she managed to stop.
‘Tell me how it happened.’
She explained about the wedding, then how Craig had tried to get her house at a knock-down price. ‘It could only be him arranging for the harassment. No one else’s house was targeted, just mine.’
‘Well, your tenant sounds as if he can take care of himself.’
She pulled away, scrubbing her eyes, embarrassed.
‘Have another glass of wine and we’ll drink to a better future, whatever it may hold.’ He reached across for a tissue and dabbed her cheek.
She looked at him, caught her breath and knew he was feeling the same surge of attraction. When he pulled her towards him, she went willingly. As he lowered his head to kiss her, she raised hers to meet him halfway and then lost herself in a kiss that was gentle and yet compelling.
He pulled away and stared at her. ‘I didn’t expect that.’
‘No. I didn’t, either. But it made me feel good, wanted. Towards the end, Craig made me feel old, worn out and unattractive.’
‘He’s a fool to abandon a treasure like you.’
She gave him a wry smile. ‘You don’t know yet that I’m a treasure.’
‘You feed a hungry man at the drop of a hat. You waken feelings in me that have been dormant for years. No, not the sexual attraction, the other attraction, to the whole woman. I’ve dated since Karen died, of course I have, but I’ve never wanted to stay at home with them and just . . . be cosy. That’s how I feel with you tonight: cosy. It feels good, too. We were happy together, Karen and I. I not only miss her, I miss being part of a couple.’
She studied his face as he spoke. Could he really be so honest and truthful about his feelings? Could she trust him?
He stood up. ‘I think we should become good friends before we try anything else, don’t you? We’ve both got scars and yours are rather raw still. There’s no need to rush into anything – though there’s no need to rush away from it either, I hope?’ He looked at her enquiringly.
She nodded. ‘I agree. You can’t have too many good friends.’
He stretched, rotating his shoulders wearily. ‘I’d better go home now. I’ve got to sort my things out for the packers. I’m moving into the end house on Thursday.’
‘If you need any help, I’m a demon packer. I’ve had a lot of practice lately.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
She went to the door with him, watched him walk off into the darkness, till only his silhouette could be seen outlined at the top of the slope against the faint glow from the hotel. Then she locked the door carefully, cleared up and went to bed.
The weeping had exhausted her, but it had also shifted the lump of unhappiness that had lodged in her chest.
And she was surprised at how comfortable, how
right
she felt with Euan.
He hadn’t hesitated to talk about their reaction to one another. She liked that. Let’s face it, she liked him. Why deny it? Why not see where the attraction led?
She smiled into the darkness at the thought that she could still attract a man like him.
Eight
On Tuesday morning the post arrived early at the block of flats. Rachel studied the letter. ‘Who’s this from? Oh, it’s that cousin of Dad’s who came to the wedding, Sally something or other. Boring old creature. What’s she writing to me for?’ She dropped the letter on the coffee table unopened.
‘Aren’t you going to read it?’
‘It can wait till tonight. I don’t want to be late for work.’
But that evening she continued to ignore the letter, claiming she had to do some ironing.
‘You really should open it,’ Jamie said.
‘You do it. I can’t be bothered. It won’t be important. She’s an old fusspot and we’ll probably never see her again.’
He read the letter with a mutter of annoyance.
‘Throw it in the bin.’ She reached for another top.
He stood for a minute, reading it again, then walked across, slapped the letter down on the ironing board and took the iron out of her hand. ‘You need to see what it says.’

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