64
Christie’s chest was pounding as she made her way to the bar. There he was standing with his back to her. She’d recognise that profile anywhere: tall, large shoulders, blond short-cut hair. It was rather disturbing how much like Daniel he was. Fortunately it was quiet; even so, Christie wanted him out of the way. She saw the dining area was empty and decided that would be the best place to talk. Something inside told her not to go anywhere too private. She turned to Dermot who was solemn-faced behind the bar. He nodded reassuringly, as if indicating he was there for her.
‘Hello, Stephen,’ she said as confidently as possible, with her shoulders back.
He quickly turned. ‘Christie!’ He smiled, appearing genuinely pleased to see her, which threw Christie a touch. ‘How are you? You’re looking great.’ She didn’t feel at all comfortable about the way his eyes looked her up and down.
She gave a non-committal shrug. Then choosing her words carefully, she said, ‘I’m fine thanks. Do you want to come this way?’ She led him into the dining area and pointed towards a settle in the corner. ‘We shouldn’t be disturbed there.’ Christie wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. It had annoyed her that he had chosen to turn up unexpectedly. Once again, she felt wrong-footed by him, like he was still calling the shots. ‘So, I take it you’ve come to talk money?’ she asked directly, looking him straight in the eye.
‘Well.’ He shifted and attempted a shallow laugh. ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that—’
‘But that’s why you’re here,’ she cut in.
Stephen gave a deep sigh and ran his hands through his hair. ‘Yes. It is. Let me show you these.’ He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out some photographs. ‘I have a son, Christie.’ There was no mistaking the pride in his voice. ‘See, look.’ He passed them to her.
Christie went numb. So, Stephen was now a dad. He had the son he’d always wanted. Her eyes were drawn to the tiny bundle, which she had to admit looked every inch of Stephen. The same shaped nose, blond hair and eyes. She swallowed, unable to speak. Stephen was too wrapped up, showing off his baby, to realise the effect this was having on Christie. ‘The thing is, I… we really need the money,’ he urged.
Christie stared at him. How she would love to tell him to fuck off. But Christie felt nothing. Zero. Even the pictures of him proudly holding his son didn’t ignite a flicker of emotion. It was as if she’d never known him, had never shared any part of herself with him.
‘Sophie’s obviously not working at the moment.’ Stephen refrained from telling her that Sophie had long since packed in work and was refusing to return. ‘So things are tight… You do understand, don’t you?’ He looked longingly into her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Christie—’
‘Don’t be,’ she cut in.
Stephen frowned slightly. This was hardly going to plan. This wasn’t the Christie he had been expecting. Surely the photos of his precious baby would prompt some kind of compassion? Apparently not, judging by this cold, almost indifferent woman sat staring, totally unmoved.
‘Christie?’ His frown deepened.
‘Christie?’ she mimicked sarcastically. ‘What do you expect, Stephen? Do you think I care about you or your family? Do you really think I’m about to sell my business in a hurry to help you?’
Christie saw his expression turn. ‘I think you’ll find this isourbusiness actually,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Yeah, the business you poured your heart and soul into,’ she spat back. Anger was beginning to simmer inside her.
‘Christie, I need the money,’ he stated flatly.
‘And what if I haven’t got the money?’ She stared him out. There was a pause.
‘Then The Templar goes back on the market.’
‘Well good luck with that, because you can sort it all out. I’m in no hurry to sell this place.’
Stephen was dumbfounded. He honestly hadn’t been anticipating this. In his mind, Christie would take one look at his son and concede she had to act swiftly.
Christie had actually surprised herself. Although knowing Stephen was right – it was his pub too – an inner strength told her to make it difficult for him. How dare he turn up here, unannounced, and demand she either come up with the money, or sell The Templar? This, after gloating over the baby she had been unable to give him. The absolute cheek of the man.
‘You can’t stop the sale.’ His voice was dangerously quiet.
‘No, but I can drag my feet,’ she replied in the same tone. ‘Sophie could have a few more babies by the time this place sells.’ She gave a sweet smile. ‘Maybe more sons? You could have a rugby team before you know it.’
‘Right. That’s it. It’s no use talking to you when you’re like this. I’ll be back tomorrow evening. One way or another this has to be settled.’
Christie sat in silence, refusing even to look at him. She’d handled it badly, but anger had got the better of her. That, and Stephen’s arrogance. She watched him through the window as he got into a Mercedes. So much for being broke, she thought with spite. Then another thought crossed her mind; was he living beyond his means? He never was any good at handling money and with Sophie not bringing in a wage, perhaps he reallywasgetting desperate. He certainly sounded it. Could Daniel’s money be enough to tempt him?
