He leant forward and whispered in her ear. ‘I’m going to remove my hand, and then you’re going to follow me and do exactly as I say.’
She nodded enthusiastically so he continued to hold her hand, his fingers interlaced with hers, and firmly walked towards the door.
‘Where—’
‘Who’s in charge here?’ he barked at her. Angelina had done him a favour after all, banging on about that fellow, Black, Grey, whatever his name was. It worked; she simpered and let him lead her. He cracked open the door; it was only a little way down the path and to his Land Rover outside. If he could just get her that far without her making a noise. Could he be that lucky? He glanced, just quickly, not to give anything away, over his shoulder at Rosy’s house. She wasn’t standing at the window, pointing, staring or screaming, so all good so far.
He walked Siobhan forcefully down the path. It wasn’t just Rosy he had to keep his eyes open for – living in a village had taught him that curtain twitching was an art form, its accompanying jungle drums run with military precision. Could he hope to get away with this?
He got to the Land Rover, yanked the handle and barked at Siobhan to get in.
‘Oh, my darling, I rather like this side of you, yah!’
He smiled tersely, started the engine and drove as fast as he could to Chase’s house.
Chapter Forty
Marching to get her man hadn’t quite panned out as she had planned. Matt’s car had been parked outside the house when she had knocked and she had heard Scramble bark excitedly at the door, yet no one had answered. Which either meant she had misjudged that woman’s arrival and that Matt was upstairs, doing all the things she had planned for them to do together this evening or, as her instinct was telling her, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation and she should return home and wait for him to knock.
As she wandered back down the path she realized that this was a whole new feeling: trust. She trusted that he wasn’t currently sprawled naked with Egyptian Catwoman and would come for her, Rosy, as soon as he could. Trust. She quite liked it. It might be a gamble and she may feel like a real fool tomorrow but right now she was willing to take that risk. All her fears of being made a fool of since she had met him had come to nothing so far, and the only time she’d felt like an idiot were those situations she herself had created. This time she’d let him lead and see what happened. Trust – who’d have thought it?
As zen-calm and lullaby-like as this new Rosy was, there were limits and she didn’t think she could just sit and passively wait. Switching on the TV was no use; concentrating on the drama unfolding in fictional lives was not the medicine she needed tonight, not on the night when she had decided to take action, action that could change her life completely. The local news, which she did want to watch, wasn’t on for another half an hour and she doubted zen would last that long. Perhaps if she threw herself into some horrid domestic chore she could scrub out all her pent-up energy and if nothing else at least the house would smell great.
Hence Rosy found herself scrubbing the bathroom grouting – no, she had never known such a job existed until tonight – when she heard her phone ring. Please don’t be Matt cancelling, not when she had just made peace with all her demons.
Jumping out of the bath where she had been crouching, she flew to the phone to see that it was an unknown number. Taking a deep breath, she hit accept, her whole face furrowed with worry as she did so.
‘Miss Winter?’ a deep male voice, humming with authority, asked.
‘Yes.’ Her answer was tentative.
‘Miss Winter, I’m glad I caught you. It’s David French here from the Local Authority. I’m sorry to disturb you on a Friday evening but do you have a few minutes?’
Rosy gulped – had he watched the local news? Oh God, had she missed it? How could she? She thought she had set an alarm to remind her! Maybe she could watch it on catch-up with Matt in a bit, if he turned up. What was Dave French going to say? She did hope she wasn’t in for a bollocking, although maybe… maybe…
‘Um… yes, of course, Mr French. How can I help?’
‘I had a meeting with one of your governors this week’ – should she play dumb? Pretend she didn’t know? If she just stayed silent and waited for what else he had to say – ‘and he brought certain things to my attention to do with the new build at Roscarrock, and the schools that had been selected. I had to take some time to confirm things for myself, of course, but I was surprised to hear that you didn’t wish to be included in the amalgamation’ – oh damn, this didn’t sound like a positive outcome – ‘especially as Mr Grant had assured me everyone was on board. However, with careful consideration, and a bit of detective work, I have to agree that you may not be the most obvious choice, especially if you are so unwilling. You have been removed from the list and Penmenna School will stay exactly as it is for the foreseeable future.’
Rosy couldn’t help but let out a loud squeal and then clasped the phone even tighter to make sure she didn’t drop it with excitement.
‘Are you OK, Miss Winter?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, I was just excited. Mr French, I cannot tell you how happy I am, how happy everyone involved with Penmenna School will be, to hear this.’
‘Yes, quite. I was going to have a press release drafted first thing Monday morning, Miss Winter, as the press do seem to have taken rather a lot of interest in this. However, seeing that you, or rather Penmenna School, have practically taken over the local news this evening I feel I should release one immediately before the Local Authority are lynched on social media, especially after the screening of that gardening programme tonight. Not quite the plans I had for this evening.’
‘I’m sorry but yes, yes, thank you. I don’t know how to thank you, this is so wonderful.’
‘Hmmm.’ Dave French didn’t sound like it was that wonderful, but then with his next sentence his voice softened considerably. ‘I have to say, Miss Winter, you’ve done a pretty good job. I’ll be keeping my eye on you in future. Enjoy your weekend. Goodbye.’
Rosy wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a reward but she didn’t care, and leant against the wall, dizzy with relief, breathing deeply and knowing she had to let everyone know. She couldn’t believe it – it had worked.
First, she rang Lynne, who screamed down the phone so loudly that Rosy thought she may have pierced an eardrum and then – and she was looking forward to this – she rang Marion.
‘Rosy, weren’t we wonderful? I assume you saw the news. Oh wait, what are you doing calling me? Aren’t you meant to be with Magnificent Matt? Get off the phone now!’
‘We’ve done it, Marion! We’ve done it! Dave French just rang me himself. He’s putting out a formal announcement now. He referred to both the list and the media attention but didn’t give specifics, just that we were safe.’
