‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Nessa protested. ‘Stay where you are.’ Swinging around, she marched back to the counter, tore one of the paper slips from a hook on the wall and made her way to where the three sat. ‘Your bill, ladies,’ she said politely, ‘and then I’d like you to leave.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Rosalind peered up at Nessa as if she had no idea what she was talking about.
‘I need you to pay up and leave.’
‘And why would we do that?’ asked a bemused Rosalind, looking around at her equally perplexed friends. ‘We were just about to order another pot of tea, weren’t we, ladies?’ The other two nodded in agreement. ‘We haven’t caused any trouble. We were having a nice quiet lunch untiltheyarrived.’ She pointed across at Cat and Jodie. ‘It’s her fault,’ she said, singling Cat out for special attention, ‘hanging around with low life like him. Goodness knows what her father will have to say when he gets back.’
Cat rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t stay here. Let’s go,’ she said, retrieving her tote and getting to her feet.
Outside, she walked over to the wall overlooking the harbour. Rosalind Myers was a total bitch. How could Aunt Em possibly call them friends? Jodie’s hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality and her thoughts turned to Luke.
‘I need to call Gareth,’ she said, pulling her phone from her bag. ‘He’ll be able to tell me what’s happened.’
Gareth picked up on the third ring. Cat didn’t mention her encounter with the trio in the Copper Kettle, only that she’d heard rumours of Luke’s arrest, and then asked him if he knew anything about it.
‘The police arrived here just before midday. He was cautioned and taken away. I can’t tell you much more.’ She frowned at the lack of concern in his voice, his words uttered so casually, so unemotionally.
‘I don’t understand.’ She struggled to process not only what he’d said but his attitude. ‘Didn’t you go with him or at least arrange for legal representation to be there when they interview him?’ She chose the word interview deliberately, unable to deal with the alternativeinterrogateand its implications.
‘Cat, I have a business to run. I’ve been in meetings all morning and, as for a solicitor, I guess the police are able to arrange that.’ He sounded as if he had better things to do.
‘A duty solicitor? Gareth, he’s family.’
‘Yeah, well.’
His words hit a raw nerve, which angered her. ‘Well what?’ she demanded. ‘You think he’s guilty? Is that why you’ve abandoned him?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ he snapped back at her.
‘You didn’t have to.’ She noticed that although he was quick to deny the first part of her comment, he didn’t challenge the fact she’d accused him of abandoning Luke. ‘Gareth, I don’t understand any of this.’
‘Look, Cat, I have to go … someone’s just arrived to see me.’ Liar, she thought, he can’t face up to what he’s done and he’s keen to get away from me.
‘Before you go, can you at least tell me where they have taken him?’
‘I’m not sure. I didn’t ask. Cat, I have to go …’
‘Great, well thanks for nothing.’ Cat killed the call and spun round to face Jodie, throwing her mobile back into her tote. ‘How can he do this? He took Luke in, raised him, and now it seems he’s simply thrown him to the wolves without a backward glance.’
Standing next to Cat, Jodie appeared to have got the gist of the conversation as it had been taking place. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘sod Gareth, we need to get to Truro right now. That’s where they’ll have taken him.’
Chapter Twenty
Three hours later Cat was back at the hotel feeling emotionally drained. The news gleefully imparted by Aunt Em’s ghastly friends had come as a shock. The second blow came on reaching Truro, where they discovered they weren’t allowed to see Luke.
Alone in her office, Cat sat at her desk, cradling her head in her hands. He had been abandoned by everyone it seemed, including his own family. How could they? She knew he was innocent. There was no way he could kill someone in cold blood. Until Marika’s murder, everyone in Carrenporth had labelled him kind and considerate; always there to help anyone in need. How quickly opinions appeared to have changed thanks to Rosalind and her gossip spreaders. Where was innocent until proven guilty in all this? It was certainly not in the minds of Great-Aunt Em’s vicious-tongued friends.
She settled herself back in her chair, taking deep calming breaths, holding back her tears of frustration. Nathan and a group of friends were out sailing, her father not expected home until the day after tomorrow. There was no close family member she could turn to for advice. Well, enough was enough, she told herself. Time to have a word with Aunt Em. She calmed her breathing, got to her feet and left. Stepping out of the hotel and into warm afternoon sunshine, she headed across the raised causeway to Caer Gwyn.
Emelia Trevelyan stood at the window watching Cat approach. Nearby, Hamish, curled in his basket, sounded like a set of ancient bagpipes as he wheezed and twitched his way through his latest doggie dream. From this top floor the triple glazed windows gave a three hundred and sixty degree view of coast, sea and land. It was her eyrie, a place of warmth where shecould observe everything, including the approach of unwanted visitors. And from the expression on her face, which she could clearly see as she reached the folly, it appeared Cat was definitely one of those.
Since Ruan had banished her from the hotel her only comfort had been the company of her three comrades – Margot, Rosalind and Stella. But working with Adrian in the museum had changed all that. She was enjoying life, meeting people and sharing her knowledge and memories of Carrenporth. When it came to the feature Adrian had set up about Tarwin House she had been in her element. People listened, asked questions, they were interested. She was treated with respect not as some elderly eccentric. She felt valued. As a result of this she began to ease away from Rosalind and her cronies. Although still joining them for an occasional lunch or outing, she was gradually stepping back, leaving them behind. Like this morning when she declined Rosalind’s invitation to an early lunch in the Copper Kettle.
She braced herself for Cat’s arrival; she knew exactly why she was here. Ros Myers had phoned fifteen minutes earlier, gleeful at the upset she had caused. Upset which, she realised, she was now going to have to deal with.
‘Maybe now she’ll do the sensible thing and distance herself from that dreadful young man,’ she remembered Ros saying, clearly trying to justify her actions. ‘His mother was no good and neither is he. About time she realised her mistake and got herself someone decent like Jordan Hunter.’
Emelia muffled an indignant snort at the comment. ‘Jordan Hunter indeed,’ she’d scoffed. Far too young for Cat for a start, but also a nine carat layabout. His days were usually spent driving around in his expensive car, picking up light skirts and generally causing a nuisance in the neighbourhood. No one could control him. His father was more interested in the blonde he had tucked away a few miles up the coast and, as for hismother, if she had her way he’d still be wearing nappies. No wonder the lad had grown up with no backbone. The stupid woman had spent a lifetime making excuses for him and getting Gareth to sort out the disasters he was responsible for. And in return for this devoted maternal support, he took great pleasure in upsetting her at every opportunity. Oh yes, not only had she heard about the incidents, she’d been witness to a few of them.
