by Sasha Morgan
Fancy meeting up?
Did he ever.
Yes, where?
he tapped back immediately.
At home, house empty.
Dylan’s heart leaped.
On my way.
Wear Racer.
Ha, bloody ha, he thought, smiling widely.
Within minutes Dylan had driven to Flora’s house. He saw her in the side garden putting deck chairs up. ‘Hi!’ he called.
‘I thought we’d sit in the sun.’ She waved him over. She looked so young and fresh in her shorts and T-shirt, without a trace of make-up. Her hair was in a ponytail that swished as she walked towards him. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘Coffee would be lovely, thanks.’ He watched her pert bottom tightly tucked in denim shorts as she made her way into the kitchen. A few minutes later she joined him carrying two mugs of coffee. She handed him one and plonked herself down in a deck chair. She blew on her coffee and took a sip. Dylan examined her, mesmerised. Flora got prettier every time he saw her.
‘Loved the advert, by the way,’ she chuckled.
‘It’s tough work, but someone’s got to do it.’ He met her eyes. They both knew why he was there. It was pointless pretending.
‘I’ve been thinking about your offer.’
‘And?’
‘I’d like to be your assistant trainer.’
‘Flora, that’s great!’ He went to kiss her, then stopped. She held her hand out, backing him off.
‘It’s to be a business partnership, strictly professional.’
‘Naturally,’ he agreed. As if. He’d give her a month before she was back in his arms, begging for more.
‘When will the yard be ready?’
‘Tobias has started renovating the old stable block, and it should take about a month, all hands on deck. We’ll need to kit out the stables. I’d like your help buying all the equipment.’ Flora’s enthusiasm started to build. She knew it was the right decision. Her only doubts lay in the way of temptation, especially after being reminded of how good Dylan’s body was by that commercial. As if reading her thoughts, he edged a little closer, giving her the benefit of his deep blue eyes. ‘Let’s celebrate. Let me buy you lunch.’ He gave her his most seductive smile. She couldn’t resist, surely?
‘No, thanks.’
He blinked. ‘Why not?’
‘Not really in the mood. Just feel like chilling.’ She sprawled her legs out and stretched her arms as if to prove it.
The little minx, he thought. She wouldn’t hold out.
Chapter 41
‘Mum, I’d like you to come and visit, on your own.’
‘Is everything all right, Megan?’ The anxiety in her mum’s voice was evident.
‘Yes, fine. I’d just like to see you.’
‘Right, I’ll come tomorrow.’ There was a pause. ‘You sure you’re OK?’
‘Yes, honestly.’
Megan had decided on her return from Royal Ascot that she needed to tell her mum everything. On their journey home, she and Tobias had discussed it again at length. He had agreed with her, and it felt reassuring to know he was behind her. She had grown accustomed to his sound judgement and felt totally at ease in his company. The night they had spent together would remain forever etched in her memory, and it had been magical waking up next to him. They had gone down to breakfast hand in hand like it was an everyday occurrence, oblivious to the attention they had attracted, totally lost in each other. Megan hadn’t felt so happy in a long time, and neither, it appeared, had Tobias. The only nagging apprehension, which refused to disappear, was the issue of Ted and her mum. She took the Parma violet tin from under her bed where the letters and photographs had been kept. Tomorrow she would show them to her mum. Once the revelation had sunk in, Megan wanted her to visit Ted, but she was nervous about the outcome, knowing how close her mum had been to Granddad Michael. Her mum’s world was about to be turned upside down.
The next day her mum’s car pulled up outside Megan’s cottage late morning. Megan flung open the door to greet her.
‘Mum!’ It was so good to see her.
‘Megan, come here.’ She opened her arms and embraced her in a bear hug. ‘Now what’s all this about?’ She looked warily at her daughter.
‘Come in.’ Megan avoided the question and carried her mother’s overnight bag into the hallway. ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she called over her shoulder. Her mum took in the freshly decorated surroundings.
‘This all looks lovely.’ Her eyes darted around the room before joining Megan in the kitchen.
‘Thanks. I’ve brought back some of Finula’s shortbread from The Templar.’
‘Oh, that looks good. How is work in the pub?’ She sat down at the kitchen table.
‘Great. I really enjoy working there and the staff are nice, especially Finula and her dad, Dermot.’
‘I’m so glad you’ve settled in love.’
After an hour of drinking tea and catching up, Megan got the tin and placed it in front of her mum. ‘What’s this?’ Her mum frowned, vaguely recognising her mother’s favourite perfume.
‘I found this in the attic. It was in the middle of the floor. I think I was meant to find it.’ Her mum looked up, puzzled. ‘I want you to read what’s inside it. There are letters, to Gran… and photographs.’ Taking the tin, her mum forced off the lid. Megan got up from the table. ‘I’m going to leave you alone to read them. I’ll be back shortly.’ She touched her mum’s hand and left. Feeling the need to give her mum some space, she decided to go to The Templar, and as she entered the pub her mood lifted immediately.
‘Hi, Megan!’ called Finula behind the bar.
‘Hi ya.’ Megan pulled up a stool and sat opposite her. ‘Can I have a cappuccino?’
‘Coming up.’ As Finula prepared the coffee she glanced over her shoulder with a huge grin. ‘So, how was Royal Ascot?’
‘Wonderful, thanks.’
‘And… the night of passion with Tobias?’ she beamed.
‘Even better,’ Megan replied without a flinch.
‘Megan Taylor!’ Finula pretended to be shocked and passed her cappuccino over.
Megan laughed and took a sip, then eyed Finula pensively. ‘It’s about time we found you a nice man, Finula.’
Sighing, Finula agreed. ‘I know, but who? Besides, this place takes up most of my time.’
‘Hmm, ever thought of internet dating?’
Finula wrinkled her nose. ‘Not really. I prefer to meet people in the flesh.’
‘A blind date?’
‘Do me a favour.’
‘A tall, dark stranger needs to walk into this bar—’
‘And I say, “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you had to walk into mine,”’ interrupted Finula, and they both fell about laughing. After a few moments Megan looked at her best friend with real affection.
‘Seriously, Fin, you’re wasted on your own.’ Damn Nick Fletcher. They chatted until Megan looked at her watch and thought she’d given her mum enough time. She finished her coffee, said goodbye to Finula and left.
Megan returned home to find her mum staring into space on the sofa. ‘You OK, Mum?’ She settled next to her and linked arms.
‘I think so.’ She was clutching the photograph of Edward in uniform.
‘He looks like me, doesn’t he?’ Megan said gently.
‘Undeniably so.’ With a steady breath, Megan filled in all the pieces: Ted living next door, Tobias finding Grace’s photograph, his visit to Ted in the nursing home and finally Ted’s story of the soldier who came home, but too late
‘I had no idea,’ her mum choked, a tear falling down her face.
‘None at all?’ Megan still found it incredulous that she’d never even suspected.
‘Absolutely not. My dad meant everything to me.’ Her shoulders started to shake.
‘And his memory still does, Mum. Nothing changes in that respect. Granddad Michael was a wonderful person who loved you and Gr
an unconditionally. Me and Chris, too.’ Megan spoke firmly, fighting back the tears.
‘Yes, you’re right. Poor Ted, what a life he’s had.’
‘Mum, I want you to see Ted.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she gulped. Then turning to face Megan she asked, ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’
‘I don’t know, perhaps because you were so close to Granddad. She didn’t want to hurt anyone.’
‘Then why let you find these?’ She pointed to the letters on the side table.
‘I think she only decided to reveal the truth when she knew she was dying. Me finding the letters must have seemed the most logical solution. I suspect in her own way she was letting me decide whether or not to tell you. Do you think I made the right decision?’
‘I do, but I’m not sure it should have been your responsibility.’ There was a steely edge to her voice, one that Megan understood.
Megan arranged for her mum to meet up with Ted at the nursing home the following afternoon. Choosing not to be present, respecting the space the two of them would need, she dropped her mum off at the entrance.
‘I’ll walk back, Megan.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, appreciating the time alone her mum needed.
Megan drove home in silent contemplation. She badly wanted to speak to her dad and brother, but then thought perhaps it was better if her mum told them first. She felt a sudden wave of home sickness. Although she’d settled in Treweham, she missed the daily chats she used to have with Chris. She also missed Kate, her friend from the office. They had exchanged text messages regularly, but the topic of Adam was forever lurking in the background. Megan did and didn’t want to know what he was up to. It was a strange feeling and Kate obviously wouldn’t broach the subject unless asked.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a bit of a blur, constantly wondering how it was going with Ted and her mum. Should she go over to the nursing home and find out? Just then she heard her mum open the door. She waited with baited breath for her to enter the sitting room. Expecting her to be emotional, she was surprised to find her in quite good spirits.
‘Well, that went really well,’ her mum smiled.
‘I’m glad.’
‘What a lovely man. I’m bringing Chris and Dad to meet him.’
‘Good. It’ll be great to see them,’ Megan smiled back.
‘Megan, this can’t have been easy for you. Thanks, love.’ She stretched her arms out and Megan fell into them, hugging her hard.
Chapter 42
The Templar was packed. Megan and Finula were rushed off their feet. Every table was occupied by the tenants in Treweham village, who paid rent to the Cavendish-Blakes’ estate, mainly rustic farmers who demanded a constant flow of beer. It was the night of the Landlord’s Supper. By tradition, the Lord of Treweham Hall paid for all his tenants’ supper once a year and in return they would submit their annual rent. Of course, nowadays it was all done monthly electronically, but some traditions prevailed and this was one tradition Tobias and the village of Treweham were keen to uphold. Megan had laughed when Tobias and Finula had explained the custom, dating back to the medieval times.
‘But it’s an important event,’ pressed Finula. ‘There’d be uproar if it didn’t take place, plus it’s good for the pub.’
Tobias agreed. ‘Absolutely, it’s worth every penny to keep the tenants happy. Besides, it’s a good night, brings the community together.’
It was certainly doing that, thought Megan as she wiped her forehead and pulled yet another pint of ale. Dermot had called upon all his staff to assist with the cooking and serving. Finula and Megan were working flat out behind the bar. Megan could see Tobias sitting centre at the top table, looking very fetching in a navy suit and white shirt, chatting and laughing with nearby farmers. He must have felt her watching him, as he suddenly glanced towards her and smiled, and her stomach flipped again as she quickly smiled back.
Megan’s curiosity grew when she saw Sebastian sitting next to Tobias. Judging by their easy manner together it was obvious the brothers were close. Megan tried discreetly to study Sebastian. With his blond hair and a smaller build he looked nothing like his brother. He had the same mischievous grin, though, she noticed, and was a tad dramatic in his demeanour – a real performer, she suspected. His voice certainly carried well as she remembered his clear, sharp tones in the summerhouse.
As if reading her mind, Sebastian made his way to the bar and presented himself. With a wide smile he said, ‘Sebastian Cavendish-Blake, at your service.’ He bowed.
Megan giggled. ‘Pleased to meet you, Sebastian. I’m Megan.’ She held her hand out, which he shook firmly.
‘Ah, yes, the fair maiden who has stolen the heart of my brother, no less.’ He held such presence and spoke with real drama, almost as though he was starring in a Shakespeare play. She assumed his world was the stage and he never really stopped acting.
‘What can I get you?’
‘A large malt for my lord and master and a pint of your finest for me.’
‘Coming up.’ Megan saw Nick enter the pub out of the corner of her eye and braced herself. Not really knowing how to react to him, she glanced over at Finula, but Finula hadn’t spotted him. Neither had Sebastian, as he took the drinks and made his way back to the top table. Nick sat down alone in the corner. After a few minutes he approached the bar and Megan saw him stumble slightly.
‘A large, red wine, please.’
Did she imagine it, or was he slurring his words a touch? Megan poured him a glass.
‘Seen Ted?’ he asked. Megan’s heart dropped: he was obviously keen to exchange pleasantries.
‘Yes, I took Zac to see him the other day.’
Nick smiled. ‘He’d have enjoyed that. Next time you go let me know.’
Megan didn’t answer. She saw Tobias look over, stormy faced, though Sebastian still hadn’t seen Nick. He had his back to the bar and was entertaining a small group with animated gestures, causing raucous guffaws. Nick took his wine and returned to his table.
‘Have you seen him? He looks pissed to me,’ Finula hissed. She had noticed the way Nick had plonked himself down, spilling some of his drink on the table.
‘I know,’ Megan whispered back, a sense of foreboding washed over her. ‘Oh, no, he’s coming back,’ she said in a hushed tone. Nick’s glass was empty. He must have downed in one what was left in it.
‘Fin-ula,’ he drawled, ‘always a pleasure to see you.’ Finula gave him a look of utter contempt. He turned to Megan, ‘Another glass of red, please, Megan.’
‘Nick, are you sure?’ she quietly asked.
‘No. You know what? I’ll have a white wine instead.’ Then, leaning forward over the bar, he reached out to touch Megan’s necklace. ‘That’s a very pretty necklace.’ Megan could smell the alcohol on his breath; he had bloodshot eyes. His hand moved towards the back of her neck and he pulled her towards his face. ‘Kiss me, Megan,’ he slurred.
‘Take your hands off her, Fletcher,’ Tobias ordered.
Nick gave a look of exaggerated surprise and released his hold on her.
‘Oh, look who it is, Lord Cavendish-Blake himself.’
‘Outside, now.’ Tobias was taking his jacket off. Megan and Finula exchanged looks of alarm.
‘Pardon?’ laughed Nick. ‘Outside? And will I be needing my duelling pistol, or my sword?’ Sebastian, finally noticing Nick’s presence, was making his way over.
‘Right, you asked for this.’ Tobias curled his hand into a hard fist and punched Nick full in the face, making him roll back and fall on the floor. A shocked hush followed. Finula ran to get her dad. Tobias had turned his back to get his jacket when Nick suddenly rose to his feet, grabbed a nearby stool and threw it at him.
‘Tobias!’ screamed Megan, just in time for him to turn halfway and elbow the stool out of his path, hurtling it onto a table full of glasses. Shards of glass flew everywhere. Tobias lunged at Nick with one final blow, throwing him across the bar, caus
ing more smashed glasses. The pub was silent. Dermot appeared with a frantic Finula.
‘I’ll pay for all the damage, Dermot.’ Tobias wiped the hair from his face.
Dermot nodded sternly.
‘Worth every penny,’ murmured Finula, looking at Nick slumped across the bar. Sebastian was white with shock; gone was the court jester.
‘I’ll take him home,’ he said, attempting to lift Nick’s slouched body.
‘Here, you’ll need a hand.’ Dermot took hold of Nick’s arm and wrapped it round his shoulder. Together they managed to get Nick to the door.
‘Tobias, are you all right?’ Megan rushed to him, not believing what had just happened.
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ His eyes were like chips of ice as he watched his brother and Dermot fumble Nick out of the pub. Finula had started to sweep up the smashed glasses.
‘I’d better help get this cleaned up.’
‘I’d better get back to my guests.’ Tobias turned on his heel and with absolute composure returned to his table.
*
The next morning Megan woke to hammering on her front door. Glancing out of her bedroom window she couldn’t see a car parked outside and wondered who it could be. Quickly pulling on her dressing gown over her pyjamas she scurried downstairs to open the door. There stood Sebastian, looking rather contrite.
‘Hello, Megan. May I come in?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She stepped aside to let him enter the hall.
‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ He looked at her attire with an apologetic smile.
‘No, it’s fine. I’ll put the kettle on. Come through.’ She ushered him into the lounge and pointed to the sofa. ‘You sit down. Tea or coffee?’
‘Tea would be lovely, thank you.’ Megan soon returned with two full tea cups and sat opposite him with a questioning look.
