Almost Lost

by Ophelia Night

  Only then did she allow herself to return to the kitchen, and she made sure to keep her thoughts on a tight rein. When she wasn’t focusing on the food, she listened out for any sounds that meant Dylan or Madison might need her.

  When she heard the click of the front door opening, her heart leaped, despite the stern talking-to she’d given herself. It was only two thirty in the afternoon. She hoped everything was all right, and that Ryan hadn’t had a crisis at his work. She rushed out of the kitchen to say hello.

  As she reached the hallway, Cassie stopped, staring in astonishment.

  A young woman with pale pink hair had come in and was locking the door behind her.

  She turned, saw Cassie, did a double take, and regarded her with the same surprise.

  “Who’re you?” she asked.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cassie stared at the pink-haired woman with suspicion.

  “I’m helping out here,” she said, this time remembering to be careful about how she worded her role. “I arrived on the weekend. But who are you?”

  The woman had just let herself in. She obviously had a key. Surely Ryan would have mentioned that to her?

  She looked to be a couple of years younger than Cassie, and was very pretty, wearing faded, low-rise jeans that showed off her hourglass figure. With her fair skin and local accent she was clearly from the area.

  “My name’s Harriet. I work for Maids of Devon, and I clean here two afternoons a week. Usually Mondays and Fridays, unless the Monday is a bank holiday.”

  “Oh,” Cassie said.

  She was still distrustful, wondering if she should call Ryan to make sure, when Dylan shouted from the dining room, “Hi, Harriet!”

  “Hey, Dylan,” Harriet called back.

  She removed her lilac jacket, hung it on the coat stand, and took a smock out of her backpack.

  “Anything special needs doing today?” she asked.

  Her tone wasn’t friendly.

  “What do you usually do?” Cassie felt at a loss.

  With a shake of her candy floss hair, Harriet replied. “Usually put on a load of washing, get it in the dryer, fold it. Change the bedding weekly in all rooms—today’s bedding day. Clean the bathrooms and the kitchen weekly, usually on Friday. Vacuum the house, dust, tidy, and then do any other jobs that need doing, but not ironing. If you don’t have anything else today, I generally start in the rooms.”

  She headed purposefully for Ryan’s room.

  Cassie still felt totally confused. She wanted to follow Harriet into the bedroom and question her further but thought it would be rude. She had to accept that Ryan had just forgotten to tell her. After all, he’d left so early this morning he’d been gone before she was out of bed.

  Even so, when she’d arrived on Saturday, Ryan had told her he’d cleaned especially for her. He hadn’t mentioned that a housekeeper had been in the day before and done it all.

  Feeling flustered by the alternative version of events that now existed, Cassie returned to the kitchen and finished preparing supper. She’d seasoned and spiced the pumpkin she’d bought yesterday, which was now ready to roast. She had cooked and mashed some potatoes, and made onion gravy to accompany the chicken pies she’d found in the freezer.

  Harriet sashayed into the kitchen carrying a laundry basket piled high with bedding and towels.

  She headed through the back door to the laundry room and in a minute, the washing machine started up.

  Then she returned to the kitchen.

  “I see you’ve been busy,” she said, looking at the results of Cassie’s efforts.

  “I thought I’d help out today,” Cassie said.

  “You were hired as a cook, or to help with the kids?”

  “I’m mostly helping with the kids.”

  Rattled, Cassie wondered whether Ryan had omitted to tell her about other staff, and a cook might make an appearance at the front door tomorrow.

  Harriet left the kitchen again, returning with the empty wine bottle and the glasses that they’d left out on the balcony the previous night. She stared at the two glasses for a moment before packing them in the dishwasher and then glanced back at Cassie.

  “So you’re from the States, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You been here long?”

  “In the country, about three weeks. I started this job on the weekend.”

  “How’d you hear about it? This isn’t where most people go. Usually it’s London.”

  “My friend au paired for Ryan last year during the school holidays and she told me he was looking again,” she said.

  “So you came all the way down here?”

  “I have a car so I drove down. It’s parked outside.”

  “Ah, yeah, I saw it. The little white Vauxhall?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Where’re you sleeping?” Harriet put on a pair of rubber gloves and wrung a cleaning cloth out at the sink.

  “Sleeping? In—in the spare bedroom, of course.”

  Her nonstop questions were disconcerting for Cassie.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean where in the house, I just wondered if you’re sleep-in or sleep-out.”

  “Sleep-in,” Cassie confirmed, but she doubted whether that was what Harriet had meant by the question.

  Seeing Harriet was hard at work cleaning, and since Cassie had had enough of the unsettling conversation, she left the room and went to check on the children.

  Lounging on the bean bag and engrossed in his book, Dylan reassured her he didn’t need anything and had no homework. Madison, on the other hand, had completed her puzzle and was frowning over a math worksheet.

  “These sums are confusing,” she complained.

  Perching on the bed, Cassie leaned across the desk and did her best to help her by explaining, rather than solving the problems for her. She thought she had made some headway when the front door opened again and this time it was Ryan.

  “Hello, all,” he called, and Madison shouted back an excited, “Hi, Dad!”

  Cassie leaped up from the bed and rushed to the front door. She was looking forward to seeing Ryan after his day at work, but felt anxious when she remembered about the delivery of the envelope.

  She was fast, but Harriet was faster, and Cassie found her already at the door.

  “Hel-lo, Mr. E,” she greeted him, smoothing back her pretty pink hair.

  “Afternoon, Harriet.” Ryan gave her a friendly nod before turning to Cassie.

  “I’m so sorry, I was in a rush this morning and completely forgot to tell you we have a cleaner come in twice a week.”

  “That’s no problem. We’ve introduced ourselves.”

  With Harriet practically treading on her toes, Cassie decided it would be better to wait before telling Ryan about the unpleasant delivery man.

  “Good, good.” Ryan turned toward the bedroom but Harriet stepped in front of him.

  “Did you notice?” she asked, shaking her head back.

  Ryan stared at her and then glanced at Cassie, perplexed.

  “Notice?”

  Harriet sighed.

  “My hair.”

  “Oh.” Frowning, Ryan looked.

  “It’s pink.” Harriet smiled, twirling a lock around her finger.

  “Ah, so it is. Did Madison see yet? You know how much she loves pink, right?”

  Ryan sounded at a loss, as if he wasn’t getting what she was trying to say. And Cassie thought that Harriet was becoming frustrated. She wondered if Harriet had wanted to prove that she was more valued by her employer than Cassie was.

  To Cassie’s surprise, Harriet then said, “I made you your tea already, Mr. E. Where would you like it?”

  “That’s very kind, but I had tea at work. Perhaps the children want some?”

  She didn’t miss the flash of anger that darkened Harriet’s face.

  “I’ll ask them,” Cassie said, and headed down the hall, wondering why Harriet was so upset.

  After she’d put din
ner into the oven, she and Madison ended up sharing the tea in the family room while Harriet mopped the kitchen floor. Harriet seemed to be putting a lot of energy into her efforts. The bucket clattered across the tiles.

  As soon as she was finished, Cassie returned to the kitchen, anxious to move ahead with her cooking. As she opened the oven, the delicious aroma of spicy pumpkin and cooking pastry wafted out. Ryan, who was passing, stopped in his tracks.

  “Did you make food? Cassie, you’re an angel. It smells wonderful.”

  From the broom cupboard, Cassie heard a loud bang as Harriet shoved the mop inside.

  “Thanks. I hope it tastes as good as it looks. It will be ready in about half an hour,” she said, putting the bowl of mash in to warm up and the pot of gravy onto the burner.

  The cupboard door slammed.

  Harriet marched out of the kitchen, pushing past Cassie.

  As she passed her, she muttered something, and a moment later, the front door slammed and she was gone.

  Perplexed, Cassie turned back to the stove.

  She didn’t like Harriet, and wondered if she might be bipolar. She’d seemed very moody and the cryptic words she’d snapped in an undertone as she departed hadn’t made sense.

  Cassie thought she had said, “Don’t get too close.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  As soon as Harriet had left, Cassie hurried to find Ryan, picking up the manila envelope on the way.

  He was in the family room, paging through a brochure advertising boats.

  “Ryan, someone delivered this earlier today.” Cassie handed him the envelope. “The delivery person took a photo of my passport. I don’t know why, and I’m worried that it might somehow get you or me into trouble.”

  She felt bad saying the words, as if she’d brought the trouble here herself.

  Ryan frowned as he turned the envelope over.

  “You mustn’t worry. This is probably something I need to sign for the divorce. I had papers delivered last week that looked similar. I was home at the time so took them myself.”

  As he made to open it, his phone rang. Cassie realized it would be rude to listen in. She forced herself to walk out of the room, even though she longed to hover nervously nearby so that he could open it, and she could be sure.

  She guessed that if a legal document was delivered, proof of identity of the recipient would be required. That must be why the unfriendly man had photographed her passport.

  Even so, she remembered how he’d threatened that he’d be back soon if the notice was not attended to. The repairs at Ryan’s business seemed to be reaching a crucial stage, and with so much to think about, she hoped that the document would not slip his mind. If there was anything to sign, she needed him to sign it, because she felt uneasy at the thought of the dark-haired man coming back.

  *

  On Tuesday morning, Madison reminded Ryan that she would be having extra math lessons on Monday and Wednesday the next week, and would need to be picked up an hour later from school.

  Cassie could see Ryan was completely distracted. He’d already taken two phone calls that morning, speaking in angry tones to the repair company. She guessed from the conversation that he was a different person at work and that he must have a hard, uncompromising side that was hidden at home.

  “You won’t forget, Dad?” Madison asked anxiously.

  “I’ll write it on the timetable,” Cassie promised, as Ryan strode out of the room with his phone ringing yet again.

  As soon as the children had left, she went into Ryan’s room to adjust it.

  She hadn’t been in his bedroom for longer than it took to dart in, pick up an empty cup, and head out again. She was trying to stay away because the room felt so much like his personal space. It smelled of the deodorant he wore, and there were books on the bedside table that he was reading, a beautiful sea view painting on the wall opposite the bed that she was sure he would have chosen, and even a notepad with a few words scribbled in his forward-tilted, precise hand.

  Cassie couldn’t help it. She stood in the middle of the room, on the shiny floorboards, and closed her eyes and breathed in the smell. She imagined him in this room, whistling softly to himself as he pulled off his shirt and walked over to the white-curtained window, staring out for a moment at the restless sea. Then she imagined herself there, too.

  At that point she opened her eyes, abandoning the vivid images that were becoming way too personal.

  A quick glance around the room confirmed there were no family photos. No wedding portraits, not even pictures of the kids. She wondered if there had been photos in the room before the divorce, or whether Ryan kept everything online.

  He’d said the timetable was on the inside of a cupboard. Which one?

  She opened one at random and blinked in surprise, because inside, neatly arranged on hangers, were several sets of women’s clothes.

  Smart business suits, high-heeled shoes, a variety of blouses in neutral colors.

  It looked tidy and untouched, but the presence of the clothes bothered Cassie. It meant that there hadn’t been closure. Either Trish was coming back for them, or else she hadn’t wanted them, and if she hadn’t wanted them, surely a plan should be made? They could be given away to a secondhand store or charity shop. They looked like top-quality garments that were relatively new. They could be used again, rather than moldering in here.

  Frowning, she closed the door and moved to the next cupboard.

  This was Ryan’s space. A couple of leather jackets and dress shirts, many more T-shirts and casual tops, piles of jeans, and a few tracksuits. On the inside of the door, as he had promised, was the children’s timetable.

  Cassie made a note on the relevant days.

  She wondered if she should ask Ryan about it, and that night, while they were having their glass of wine, she plucked up the courage to do it.

  “I noticed that there are still some of Trish’s clothes in the cupboard,” she said.

  Ryan nodded, grimacing.

  “She took what she could fit into the boxes she’d brought, and she promised she’d be back to get the rest. She hasn’t been, and I don’t mind. It means she’s not here and not in my space and I don’t have to think about it, if you see where I’m going with this.”

  Cassie nodded.

  “If you want to give them away, let me know. I can do it for you.”

  “That’s a very kind offer, and I think I might just take you up on it, for most of the clothes, anyway. There are a few that I know she will still want, so as soon as I have a chance, I’ll go through them. Once that’s done, I can parcel up what she needs.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Cassie agreed.

  “You know, you’re an absolute life saver. I’m so grateful that you’re here.” He smiled.

  Cassie had been working hard on keeping the lid on her crush, and she was pleased that she was able to smile in a professional way, without blushing or stammering or showing him that his words were making her melt inside.

  Telling him how she felt could only lead down the dangerous road to disappointment. After all, Ryan was a wealthy business owner with film star good looks, while she was just a penniless traveler, even if his kindness and praise made her feel like somebody more special.

  *

  The next day, as Ryan had another long day at work, she cooked again. This time, she tried her hand at shrimp pasta with lemon and garlic. She was worried that it might not be to the children’s taste, although she’d asked them if they were willing to try it, and was delighted when they both declared it delicious.

  “You’re a cookery genius,” Ryan said after taking the first bite.

  “I’m not. I don’t know much at all about it and all I’ve been doing is following the recipes in the cookbooks,”

  Ryan shook his head.

  “Cooking is more than that. Even with a recipe, there’s still feel and instinct involved. People either have a flair for it or they don’t, and you do.”
/>   Madison nodded.

  “You’re a great cook, Cassie. You haven’t made one yuck thing the whole time you’ve been here. I love your food. Could you dish me some more, please?”

  Ryan smiled fondly at his daughter.

  “I’m pleased you are enjoying shrimp. Remember the last time you tried it, when we went on holiday to Madrid last year, and you hated the paella so much that the waiter had to bring you a hamburger instead?”

  “That wasn’t me, though,” Madison corrected him. “It was Cousin Tess. She wouldn’t eat the paella and so she got a burger but she didn’t like the burger either so she just had chips. I ate the paella but I picked the shrimp out.”

  “Your cousin wasn’t with us at that meal, though,” Ryan said.

  “She was. Tess and her mum came along with us.”

  “No, I remember it clearly, Madison,” Ryan said in a decisive tone. “It was you who refused the paella, because I remember thinking to myself how strange it was that my own daughter wouldn’t eat a bite of the very best food we had on that whole holiday.”

  Madison looked appealingly at Dylan, but he just shrugged. Cassie expected her to keep arguing back, because she was usually as tenacious about her opinions as a bulldog with a bone. But to her surprise, Madison just lowered her head and devoured her second helping. She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t speak about the incident again, and after a short silence, Cassie filled the uncomfortable gap in the conversation by asking what the program was for school tomorrow.

  “We’re both in the school play and there’s a dress rehearsal at the town hall after school,” Madison said.

  “Where must I fetch you from?” Cassie asked.

  “We can catch the bus back,” Madison said. “It runs right past the town hall.”

  Intrigued by the mention of a performance, Cassie asked, “What’s the play about? What are your roles?”

  “Dylan is backstage crew, but they appear on stage, they wear these shirts saying “Crew” and run on and change the scenes.”

  “It’s a very important role,” Dylan added. “We have to be fast, but at the same time we also have to look like factory workers while making the audience laugh, so we’re actors too. There are five of us, and they only picked people who were tall and strong.”