‘That’s what friends are for,’ said Simon staunchly. ‘As we speak, Sorrel and Rachel are back at home making up the spare room for you. You can stay for as long as you need.’
‘You can also use Linston End if necessary,’ said Alastair. ‘It’s yours for the asking.’
Frankie pursed her lips, suddenly frightened she was going to cry. One minute Simon and Alastair had been grappling with each other on the ground like a pair of mauling bears, now they were pulling together to help her and Danny.
After she had answered her mobile back at Linston End and had taken in what the police officer had said, that there’d been a fire at their house, a possible arson attack, Simon and Alastair had let go of each other and everyone had leapt into action. It was as if the surreal events of the afternoon – of the last few days – had never happened. Callum and Valentina were the only ones to remain behind. Frankie had overheard Alastair explaining to her that there was no need for her to come as well. Valentina’s face had darkened with petulance and she had muttered something Frankie couldn’t hear. It had not had the ring of a sweet endearment to it and caused Frankie to wonder if the woman would still be there when Alastair later returned to Norfolk.
Whether she would be or not was of no consequence to Frankie; her priority was dealing with this mess and keeping Danny calm in the process. All the way here in the car – she had insisted on driving – she had willed his heart to stay strong, that the shock and strain of what lay ahead would not be too much for him. Never had she been more aware that he was a heartbeat away from death. She had been glad to have Jenna with them in the car, knowing that she would share the job of watching over her father.
It was nearly midnight when Jenna drove her parents to Ashleigh House, where Simon and Sorrel lived.
Every time she caught sight of her father’s bleak expression in the passenger seat next to her, Jenna’s throat tightened with fear and sadness; he looked almost as ill as he had after his heart attack. She was worried for her mother too, there was going to be so much to do in the coming days and weeks. Everyone was being so helpful, but Jenna was worried that wouldn’t last for long, not when Simon and Sorrel had cataclysmic troubles of their own to deal with, and Alastair was planning to leave – he was probably in an even greater hurry to get away now.
With everything changing so fast, Jenna didn’t dare think what might happen next. Even on a personal level, that was true. When she thought back to that day when Blake had come across her playing with the Punch and Judy puppets in her office, her life had been comparatively straightforward. Ever since though, he had unsettled her equilibrium. He still did.
There had been no time to explain to Blake that she was leaving Linston End, not until she was in the car with her parents and on their way to Suffolk. He’d replied to her text immediately, saying that if he could do anything to help, she only had to say.
His surprise announcement that he was contemplating leaving Heart-to-Heart, and the significance of what lay behind his decision, still stood between them. But now it seemed more likely that Jenna might be the one to leave the charity in order to help her parents sort out the mess here. Or perhaps she could take a leave of absence.
At Ashleigh House, she parked on the drive alongside Simon’s car. She wondered with trepidation what the atmosphere inside the house would be like. Would Simon and Sorrel manage to keep the apparent truce of earlier in place for while they were there? She hoped so. Selfishly she didn’t want to be caught up in any more animosity or drama; all she wanted was a quick bite to eat followed by a hot shower to get rid of the awful stench of smoke that now clung to her, and to go to bed.
Switching off the engine, the car was suddenly filled with a bright light. She turned around in her seat and saw that a familiar Range Rover had pulled in behind them. ‘You won’t believe it,’ she said, ‘but Alastair’s here with us.’
Her parents also turned around in their seats. ‘I thought he was driving back to Linston,’ remarked Frankie.
‘Maybe he’s changed his mind and is hoping to stay the night.’
‘I don’t see that being very likely, Dad,’ said Jenna.
‘What about Valentina,’ her father said, ‘what’s she going to say if he doesn’t go back to her tonight?’
‘To be honest, I don’t care,’ said Frankie. ‘We have more important things to think about.’
As one, they pushed open the car doors and stepped out. Alastair was already waiting for them, his hands fiddling with his keys. It was a nervous gesture, and one that Jenna had never seen him do before. With sadness she now knew that the Alastair she knew of old – Uncle Al – no longer existed, that this man before her – the man who had had an affair with Sorrel – was as good as a stranger. But a stranger who had been only too ready to help her parents, she reminded herself. That counted for something.
The four of them fell silently in step and approached the house. The front door opened and Simon was there to greet them. For a split second it was as though everything was perfectly normal – and this was just another visit, when a warm welcome was guaranteed and Rachel would drag Jenna upstairs to her bedroom, leaving the boring grown-ups to their wine and chatter. But that illusion was shattered when, in the light cast from the coach lamp above the front door, Jenna saw Simon’s expression alter at the sight of Alastair. It was a look of pure hatred.
*
Back at Linston End, Valentina was filled with an abundance of restless energy that she could put to no use, other than to pace back and forth across the terrace, occasionally venturing down the lawn to the river, guided only by an intermittent moon bursting through the clouds in the midnight sky. In her hand was a large glass of red wine – the near-empty bottle was on the kitchen table, along with her mobile.
Her temper barely under control, she had switched off her phone after Alastair had finally deigned to ring her. She had ended the call before he had had a chance to say goodbye. His wheedling tone asking for her patience and understanding had disgusted her.
Oh, she understood the situation all too well! She counted for nothing when it came to a choice between her and his friends. They would win every time.
Was this really the man she wanted to be with? A man who wasn’t prepared to put her first? A man, who, with one whistle from his leech-like friends was happy to abandon her and go off to be by their side. He was no better than a pathetic little lapdog!
To be with him meant she would have to settle for being second best. Just as she had with Ivan. Was that what she wanted?
No! No it wasn’t!
She drank deeply from the wineglass and sinking down into a chair on the terrace, she closed her eyes, and forced herself to remember how she had felt when she first met Alastair. The attraction had been instant, on both sides. Oh, how she had wanted him! And in those weeks of getting to know him, she had realised he had something to offer her which she had not known before in a man – complete and utter adoration. She had wanted to wrap herself in his adoration, to bask in it and know that he was hers.Allhers.
She had had enough of sharing in the past – of sharing Ivan with his other women, his dubious business contacts, and Nikolai and Irina. For once in her life, she wanted something all to herself. Was that really too much to ask?
It had seemed so perfect, the two of them together –Valentina and Alastair, Alastair and Valentina.He had not just merely wanted her – he hadneededher, to make him whole again. That’s what he had told her two days before they parted for him to fly home to England, when they had been full of plans for their bright new future, and the glorious opportunities in store for them.
Had that been a lie – his need of her? Was it just another lie to add to the many it now transpired Alastair had told?
