‘I did,’ Carla replied with a frown. ‘But she wasn’t prepared to discuss it over the phone. She wants to meet in person.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘She might be a stalker or something. Besides, she lives in Leeds.’
‘Will it help your case if you go?’
‘I don’t know until I talk to her. I discussed it with my union rep, and he said that depending on the information she gives me, it might help.’
‘You should go.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Would you like me to come with you?’
Carla gasped. ‘You’d do that?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the guy is a jerk, and he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. And I can see how much you’re hurting.’
Her smile was warm. ‘Has anyone told you that you’re a very nice man?’
Ashton didn’t say anything, and if Carla had been aware of the lustful thoughts that went through his mind when he kissed her good night later, she would have quickly changed her opinion of him.
Carla was seriously cheesed off that HR hadn’t been in touch with her regarding a date for the meeting. How much longer was this going to go on? She was in limbo until it was resolved.
The silver lining, as Ashton pointed out on the journey to Leeds, was that at least the delay had given her time to speak to Anita Campbell.
Ashton, she’d discovered, usually looked on the bright side and his cheerfulness was rubbing off on her. In his company, she couldn’t be morose. She was so glad he’d offered to accompany her today, and not just because it saved her from an arduous train journey. If it hadn’t been for him, Carla might have been tempted to return to Birmingham and stay there, rather than travel back and forth to Picklewick, because she was conscious of not outstaying her welcome at the farm.
As soon as she returned to Muddypuddle Lane this evening, she really should have a discussion with Dulcie, because she honestly didn’t know how long this situation would continue. It could be a matter of days, or weeks. God forbid, it might even be months, and there was no way she could stay with Dulcie for that length of time, no matter how useful she tried to be.
Unfortunately, Carla didn’t want to return to Birmingham. She was quite settled at the farm, and neither did she want to leave Ashton. She would miss him more than was wise.
Over the past few days she had developed feelings for him, and that didn’t sit well with her. She had got over Yale far tooquickly for comfort (despite how he’d treated her), so what did that say about her?
Carla feared she couldn’t trust herself to know how she felt anymore. Gone was the carefree woman who had been happy to have fun and not allow any man to touch her heart, and Carla missed her. She’d known where she was with that version of herself. She’d vaguely recognised the version who had thought she’d fallen in love with Yale, but this more sombre, serious Carla, who had developed a sneaking enjoyment of the countryside and a love of photography, was a complete stranger.
And she hadn’t even begun to pick apart her growing feelings for Ashton.
She couldn’t think about that now though, because they were nearing the outskirts of Leeds and heading for a place called Morley, just off the M62. After negotiating a tangled mess of a junction, Carla was glad to leave the motorway behind.
‘Not far now,’ Ashton said. The car’s satnav was a godsend, and within a few minutes it had directed them to their destination.
Carla levered her stiff body out of the car. ‘That was one hell of a journey. This had better be worth it. If Anita Campbell has led us on a wild goose chase, I won’t be responsible for my actions.’
‘I think I’ve aged ten years,’ Ashton groaned. ‘When I looked up the route online, it reckoned it should take around three and a half hours, not five. Thank goodness we set out in plenty of time, otherwise we would be late. I’m not looking forward to the drive back.’
‘I bet you’re wishing you hadn’t offered.’
He looked her in the eye. ‘Not at all.’
She met his gaze and held it, feeling a shiver travel down her back. Then she looked away. She’d unpick that later; right now, she needed to focus.
They were twenty minutes early, so Carla didn’t expect Anita to be there yet. After making enquiries with a member of staff in the pub where they’d agreed to meet, Carla was directed to a table. A woman was already seated there, a glass of what looked like orange juice in front of her, alongside a cardboard document wallet.
