‘Something’s come up, I won’t be long,’ he said as he walked over to her.
‘Work again?’
‘’Fraid so.’
Before he could leave she reached out and made a grab for his arm. ‘Can’t they even give you one night off?’
‘I have to go, Cat,’ he said, pulling his arm free, his expression tense. ‘There’s something I need to do, okay?’
‘All right, but I’m not happy.’
‘I’ll make it up to you later,’ he promised, dropping a soft kiss against her mouth, before disappearing up the steps towards the car park.
Cat resisted the temptation to follow him. Men! She sat back feeling totally exasperated. She thought knowing the reason behind the calls would make things okay, but it didn’t. And justwhen she’d thought it was all over. Reaching for her wine, she settled down to watch the dancers and wait for his return.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Dratted dog.’ The muffled curse came from behind an outcrop of rock. Moments later, Emelia Trevelyan emerged onto the beach, her torch casting its bright beam along the sand and wash of the incoming tide. Although it was pitch black down here she knew the contours of the land intimately. Over sixty years ago as a young girl, together with her brother Gerren, she had played pirates in the rocks and inlets of this small cove with Gareth’s father, Ted, and other boys and girls from the village. But this evening she was definitely not having fun. She was feeling very angry. With Marion for leaving the door open, with Hamish for escaping, but most of all with Ruan, because if she hadn’t still been banished from the hotel, the dog would never have been in a position to have taken advantage of the situation and abscond.
She stood for a moment considering whether or not to shout, eventually deciding it was a waste of time. The noise of the surf surging against the rocks on the far end of the cove and the stiff onshore breeze swallowed up any sound she made. Instead, she moved slowly forward, the torch scanning the sand for any sign of paw prints. As the moon came from behind a cloud she saw him, streaking along the beach towards her.
‘You are a bad boy.’ She bent down to ruffle his fur. ‘I should be cross but I know what it’s like. You and me. Prisoners. You miss Gulliver and Gussie, don’t you?’ Hamish whined and licked her hand. ‘Yes, I know.’ She gave him an affectionate scratch behind his ears. If there was anything to break the hard wall of ice surrounding her heart it was this little dog and his devotion to her. Bending down, she clipped his collar to the lead she had brought with her.
‘Come on then, let’s go home.’
She made her way slowly along the beach, Hamish keeping pace beside her until, quite unexpectedly, he stopped, lifted his head to sniff … and growled.
Ahead, was a cluster of rocks and on the evening breeze the sound of the music from the barbeque. But there was something else too. With a warning to the dog to be quiet, she crept forward to listen. Beyond the dark granite outline, raised voices drifted towards her. She levered herself onto a low ledge between the two largest rocks and peered out into the darkness. It was enough to enable her to see what was going on. Standing on the passing platform halfway up the steps to the beach car park, two shadowy figures were in the middle of a tense argument. A dark-haired girl paced up and down, gesturing energetically towards a tall man who was leaning on the railings and watching her. Emelia squinted, trying to identify the pair, but the overhang of the cliff blocked most of the light from the car park, blurring their images.
‘I have to make him listen,’ the girl was saying, her voice tearful. Emelia frowned. Her voice sounded strange, slurred. Drunk, maybe? ‘He told me he loved me. How can he change his mind? She can’t have him. He is mine!’
The man stepped forward, his voice lower and lost in the sound of the wind and the sea. He caught her gently by the shoulders and Emelia could see he was trying to reason with her.
‘No!’ The girl pushed him away. A gust of wind whipped her hair around her face and she pushed it back. She faced the man and, although Emelia couldn’t see her face, her posture was defiant. ‘You are like all the rest. You pretend to be my friend. You say you will help me and then you tell me you can do nothing. All men are liars. Bastard!’ She lunged at him. He stepped back, cradling his face. It looked as if the girl had slapped him.
‘You tell him he cannot leave me. I am having his baby. You get him here right now, do you understand?’
Emelia saw the man shake his head then raise his hands in a gesture of frustration before he left the platform and headed back up the steps.
The girl walked down to the beach where she paced up and down, muttering to herself. The muttering changed to swearing. She became more and more agitated as each minute passed and the man whose return she was expecting didn’t show. Emelia cursed. She needed to get to the steps. The girl’s actions were becoming wilder by the minute. Emelia was not easy to scare, but there was something about this young woman’s behaviour that disturbed her. Better to stay for a while, she thought, until she leaves. Five minutes turned to ten and it was as she heard the hiss of water against pebbles she realised how much the sea was beginning to encroach onto the beach. The tide was coming in. She had no idea how much longer the girl would linger there. She couldn’t get past her; she was trapped. And then she remembered something few people knew about. There were steps at the other end of this small cove, and a pathway hidden by bushes. Legend had it that smugglers used it to carry their goods up from the cove years before Jago Menhenik had set his sights on building there. Tugging softly on Hamish’s lead, Em began walking away from the lights and the music, her torch beam guiding them safely along the beach.
She had just reached her destination and was about to begin her climb when she heard the scream. Emelia halted, tilting her head towards the direction of the sound, listening. She considered her options. Should she go back and investigate or simply ignore the sound and continue her journey home? In the end, her inquisitiveness won. The girl had been so wound up maybe she had slipped and fallen. She might be injured. Emelia tied Hamish to a nearby bush and waved a warning finger athim to wait. Then she carefully negotiated her way along the beach. It only took a few minutes to reach the place where the girl had been pacing. The beach was deserted. She wondered if she should call out but decided against it. No, much better to creep through a gap in the outcrop and take a quick look before returning home.
Slowly she made her way to the break in the rocks where she had previously slipped through at the beginning of her search for Hamish. The moon came from behind a cloud, covering the beach with its pale light. Emelia stepped towards the place where she had last seen the girl. There were a series of footprints in the sand leading towards the steps, their untidy outline indicating whoever they belonged to had left in a hurry. Emelia realised the scream had probably been one of frustration and the girl had decided to go in search of the man who had not returned. She pitied him once he was found. She seemed a vicious little piece. She pulled her jacket closer, keen to reach her kitchen and make herself a welcome cup of warming chocolate before eventually finding her bed. Turning to leave, her eyes caught a faint glitter of something in the sand. At first she thought it might be a piece of shell, or maybe metal washed in by the sea, and concentrated the beam of her torch in the area where she had first noticed the reflective glint. She found what she was looking for almost immediately. Although she prided herself on her fitness she still felt her knees creak as she bent down to retrieve it. Now where had this come from, she wondered, as she turned it over in her hand. Could it have belonged to the girl, perhaps? Slipping it into her jacket pocket, she made her way back towards the steps and a waiting Hamish. Well, what an eventful evening.
Cat yawned and rolled over. With her eyes still closed she stretched out her fingers, searching for the familiar warmth ofLuke’s skin. Frowning as they touched cool sheets instead, she eased herself up on one elbow, brushing hair from her eyes, and checked the time on the bedside alarm: seven forty-five. She groaned. What was he doing up at this hour after such a late night at the beach barbeque? A night when they had returned home around two, tired and happy, but not too tired for a little pre-sleep loving. She flopped back in bed and smiled as she twisted a blonde curl around her finger. Everything in her life was so good at the moment and Luke, well, he had to be the icing on the cake. However, as the fog of sleep gradually drifted away, those lingering and unresolved issues caused her rose-tinted view to skew slightly. There was still Gareth’s mystery customer, the one who appeared to be back demanding attention once more.
Wrapping herself in her cotton dressing gown, she headed downstairs. Hoping to find him in the kitchen brewing coffee, she was surprised to find the room empty. It was as she stood in the open doorway wondering if he had decided to go for an early morning run that she noticed the folded piece of paper tucked under the sugar bowl in the middle of the scrubbed-top table. A scribbled note informed her he’d gone to the garage to sort something out and would be back later. Not again! Cursing, she screwed it into a ball and was about to throw it across the kitchen when she heard the doorbell. Securing her dressing gown, she stepped into the hall, and swung the front door open, wondering who could be calling at this time on a Sunday morning. It was Gareth Hunter, and from the expression on his face she knew he was about to deliver bad news.
Luke checked his watch. It was nearly eight. He wondered where Marika had got to and why she had arranged to meet him here of all places. In all her previous calls the agreed meeting place had been down on the edge of West Beach. He didn’t like this at all.It was far too public and exposed him to all sorts of unwanted scenarios. All he needed now was one of the techs to drop by and see them together and goodness knows what harmful gossip would find its way back to Cat.
Luke felt himself break out in a sweat. Being too caring, too decent and even a little foolish had dragged him into this situation with Marika. He knew that she had orchestrated their accidental collision outside Carrenporth’s small supermarket – one which had seen his groceries scattered over the pavement. She persuaded him to join her for coffee by way of an apology and as they chatted mentioned she was no longer with Jordan. She wondered if Luke’s family connection meant he might have some influence over his cousin. She wanted him to speak to Jordan, to tell him how much she loved and missed him. He felt sorry for her at first, a vulnerable young woman, yet another victim of Jordan’s callous behaviour. However, when he explained the family dynamics she became distressed and he stupidly gave her his number, telling her to contact him if she needed someone to talk to. It was a fatal mistake. Her calls were relentless, she was sure he could do something she told him. Why was he being so difficult?
Meeting with her several times he tried to convince her to move on and find someone new. She wasn’t listening. It was then Luke decided he’d had enough. Marika was obsessed with Jordan to the point of madness. He had to walk away before things really got out of hand. So he blocked her mobile. He thought he was safe, but then she had called last night from a new number insisting he meet her in the small cove below the beach restaurant. When he arrived he found her pacing up and down. She told him she was pregnant. Jordan was the father; he had to take her back. Luke told her he wasn’t prepared to help her any more. Her reaction was to attack him, a couple of her long nails raking the side of his face. He walked away angry butrelieved he was free of her at last. He’d turned his phone off, however, turning it back on this morning he found yet another text. One threatening to tell Cat they had been having an affair if he refused to help her. More demands, this time to meet her outside Arcadia at seven forty-five.
This was the last time he told himself as he drove here. When she arrived he planned to call her bluff; to tell her he was going to tell Cat everything and he didn’t care what she did. But he did of course. Telling Cat the truth was a high-risk move. It wasn’t a single lie he had told. To explain his absences he had piled one upon another and, on discovering the depth of his deception, there was a strong possibility Cat would leave him.
With a heavy heart he got out of the pickup and checked his watch again. If this was a fool’s errand he’d be very, very angry. He leaned against the Nissan’s door, deciding he’d give her five more minutes and then leave.
