‘I’ll make sure he gets it,’ Gareth said, dropping it to the floor.
‘So what do you want to see me about?’ Luke settled himself in a nearby chair and waited for his uncle to beg. ‘Your job—’
‘Is no longer an option, yeah, I know.’
‘On the contrary.’ Gareth leaned forward, stapling his fingers. ‘This thing with Evie, as I said, I lashed out at everyone. It was wrong and I hurt a lot of people, including you. The director’s job is yours if you still want it. I’ll just need to take you round to HR to sort out the paperwork.’
‘Thank you.’ Luke was stunned. Gareth had done a complete turnaround, first with Jordan and now himself. ‘And thank you for getting me a decent brief. I’d all but given up hope until he arrived.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Gareth said, puzzled. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘So you weren’t responsible for hiring Richardson-Clarke?’
‘Who the hell is Richardson-Clarke?’ His uncle stared at him blankly.
Luke took in not only the implication of Gareth’s words but the casual way in which they were delivered. ‘My God,’ he said, ‘you really did abandon me, didn’t you?’
‘Luke, I’m sorry, I really am. I wanted to do something, but it was Evie. You know what she was like.’ He saw his uncle’s panic-stricken face, heard him scrabble to pull his words together, to try and make a case for his actions. ‘She persuaded me to distance myself and you must admit from the evidence everything pointed to you being guilty.’
‘Evie,’ Luke said. ‘I might have guessed. She had you all worked out, didn’t she? Knew if she applied enough pressure you’d desert me. As you say, at the time everything pointed to me being the murderer. No doubt she warned you any support, however minor, could affect both the business and peoples’opinion of you.’ He gave a cynical smile. ‘And what an easy way for Evie to cover up her own crime too. I bet she didn’t have a shred of conscience about it either. She hated my mother and she hated me even more.’
‘Don’t you dare drag your mother into this.’ Gareth’s voice was a low warning growl.
‘Oh I will,’ Luke fired back. ‘You let her down too, in so many ways. Admit it, you had no backbone where Evie was concerned. She went out of her way to make my mother’s life a misery. And you did nothing to stop her.’
‘Okay, okay, I admit it. I was weak.’ Gareth held up his hands in a gesture of defeat. ‘Yes, I should have stood up to her. Don’t you think since Evie’s arrest all I can think about is what I did and didn’t do? I made mistakes. Bad decisions. It’s the reason I asked you here today. I can’t change the past but I can do something about the future. You, me and Jordan, we can move on. Make a better life together as a family.’
‘A family?’ Luke scoffed at his uncle’s pathetic attempt at reconciliation. ‘It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?’
‘Look, I know you’re hurting. Jordan told me about Cat. I can see it hasn’t helped the current situation here. Let’s calm things down a little, shall we? I’ll organise coffee, or maybe something a little stronger.’ Again the raised hands, this time in a pacifying gesture before he reached across his desk for the phone.
‘Leave it.’ Luke slammed his palms down on the desk as he rose up out of his chair. ‘Yes, losing Cat hurts, but it has nothing to do with how I’m feeling about you. You betrayed me in the worst possible way and yet here you are talking about including me as part of your family? You hypocritical bastard.’
Gareth blanched at Luke’s verbal attack. He sat like a statue in his chair, his breathing deep and heavy as he watched him warily. He fears me, Luke thought. He doesn’t know what I’ll donext. I’m usually calm, slow to anger, but today? Today I could easily … He knew it was time to leave before he did something he’d later regret. Pushing his chair out of the way he moved towards the door. As he opened it, a thought occurred to him and he turned to take one last look at his uncle who still watched him, silently.
‘Oh, and as far as the job is concerned,’ he said calmly, ‘you can keep it. I quit.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
That night Luke felt fully entitled to get roaring drunk. After the events of the past few days he wanted to blot out everything – the pain, the lies, the misery – if only for a few hours. He spent the evening at home, drowning his sorrows. Only when the bottle was completely empty did he stumble up the stairs to his bed. The next morning he woke up with a hangover from hell and cursed his stupidity. Throwing a blanket over the problem hadn’t been a wise move; it had only made things worse. Peering out into the dull grey morning, he found the steadily falling rain completely matched his own sombre mood. Moments later he stood under the shower, jets of cold water bouncing off his skin;icy needles waking him, bringing him back to the world he now found himself in; one without Cat or his job with Arcadia.
As he finished towelling himself dry, he heard the sound of the doorbell. Deciding to ignore it, he found his electric razor and erased the overnight growth of stubble. When he finished and put the razor away, he stilled for a moment. From the persistent ringing, whoever was outside wasn’t planning to go away any time soon, damn them. After quickly tugging on jeans and a T-shirt, he padded barefoot down the stairs and along the hallway to unlock the door. If this was Gareth on a mission of reconciliation he’d made the biggest mistake of his life coming here. He wanted no more to do with him. Squaring his shoulders, he grabbed the door and swung it open, ready to deal with his uncle quickly and effectively.
Emelia Trevelyan cursed loudly and kept up her pressure on the doorbell. Damn Luke Carrack, she was sure he was in there so why wouldn’t he open the door? Eventually she heard the thud of feet on the stairs and a muttered curse before the door opened.
‘You’re wasting your time, I’ve nothing more to say to you,’ she heard an irritable male voice utter as the door swung back to reveal Luke in T-shirt and jeans, his hair still damp from the shower. ‘Miss Trevelyan,’ he said, his eyes widening with surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to see you, Luke Carrack,’ she snapped. ‘Now, are you going to ask me in or do I have to stay here on the doorstep catching my death?’
‘Sorry, come in.’ He stepped back apologetically. ‘Here,’ he reached for her umbrella, ‘let me have that.’
Em lowered it and handed it over then unzipped her wax jacket and shrugged it from her narrow shoulders. ‘You can take this, too,’ she said, thrusting it at him.
‘I’ll just put these out the back. Take a seat in there.’ He indicated a half-open door to her left. ‘Can I get you a coffee?’
‘No thank you.’ She pursed her lips. ‘But I rather think you might be needing some. Preferably black. You smell like a distillery, young man.’
‘Yes, I probably do.’
