by Sue Fortin
‘His car?’
‘Yeah, his car.’
‘The one that decided to trigger its own immobiliser?’
Steph felt a glimmer of relief. Owen could possibly be telling the truth, or, of course, they could both be sticking to a story they’d concocted between themselves. ‘He said it had to go into the garage.’
‘Fortunately, it’s just the old Audi we all share,’ said Harry. ‘It used to belong to my dad. Mum didn’t want to get rid of it, so we kept it, and now if anyone just wants to nip into town we take the Old Bastard.’
‘The Old Bastard?’
‘That’s what Dad used to call it. He didn’t like it but he’d already spent the money and, Dad being Dad, was too pig-headed and too tight to trade it back in for something he did like. In fact, I think he liked hating it. He liked hating a lot of things.’
‘One old bastard deserves another, I suppose,’ said Steph.
Harry grinned. ‘Something like that. Anyway, the car had been left in town earlier this morning. Mum had gone in to meet a friend for coffee and they went off in her friend’s car, and then Mum was dropped straight home. So Owen and I went in to get it.’
Steph felt the earlier relief slide away. ‘The car was in town on its own all day, then?’
‘I suppose so. Why?’
‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’ She couldn’t say out loud what she was thinking, that one of them could have been driving the car that ran her off the road. She forced a reassuring smile.
‘Anyway, I hear from Dominic that your car needs a bit of TLC.’
‘You could say that. I don’t know what happened; I slipped on some mud on the road and the next thing the car was sliding off onto the verge and hit a fence.’
‘As long as you’re OK, that’s the main thing,’ said Harry. He dipped his head to look at her. ‘You are OK, aren’t you?’
‘Sure.’ She wanted to say that physically she was OK but mentally she was bruised. Her head hurt and that wasn’t from the bump last night, more from trying to figure out what on earth was going on in this place.
‘Actually, Steph, I’m glad I’ve caught you … both literally and figuratively,’ began Harry. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’
She met his eyes head-on. ‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you too.’
‘I’m guessing it’s probably about the same thing.’
‘Probably.’
‘Us.’
She nodded. ‘That will be the one. I have to admit I’ve been a bit confused after what happened yesterday morning,’ she said, deciding to get straight to the point and make it easier for him. ‘I’m not expecting anything from you or anything more than what happened yesterday. Like I said, I’ve got no hidden agenda to try to trap you. I know you’re probably still grieving for your wife and being back here is probably making it very difficult for you.’
‘Stop. Stop right there.’ He took her hands in his. ‘I agree with everything you’ve just said.’
‘You do?’ She couldn’t help feeling a touch deflated. He could have cushioned the blow a little.
‘I do,’ he continued. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. You’ve been on my mind constantly. You have no idea how much restraint it took me last night to sleep on the sofa.’
‘That’s kind of you to say.’
‘Jesus, Steph, I haven’t just complimented you on a dress or your hairstyle. Stop being so matter-of-fact about it all.’
She winced at his words. It wasn’t the first time she’d been accused of being stand-offish and shutting off her emotions. It was something she was aware she did by way of self-preservation, possibly to counter her feelings of rejection by her mother. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said eventually. ‘I’m not very good at relationships, in case you hadn’t gathered. Shit relationship with my mum. An even shitter one with my ex-husband, hence the ex-tag.’ She gave a self-deprecating shrug.
‘I’m pretty shit at them too, if I’m honest,’ said Harry. ‘Have avoided them like the plague since Elizabeth died.’
‘So why exactly are we having this conversation?’
He paused and when he spoke his voice was no more than a whisper. ‘Because I really like you.’
Steph let out a long, slow breath to steady her rapidly beating heart. It was true, something was different this time. Something she didn’t recognise and something that frightened her yet excited her at the same time. Something which made her want to throw caution to the wind. So much so that when he drew her towards him and planted his lips on hers she didn’t hesitate to respond, despite a voice in her head trying to warn her that this was dangerous. Harry was dangerous. The whole Sinclair family was dangerous. Yet, right at that moment, it was as though he had some mesmerising hold over her and there was nothing she could do to fight it, nothing she wanted to do.
When they broke for air, more from necessity than desire, Harry nuzzled her neck and breathed in deeply. ‘Let’s go inside,’ he said.
The few seconds it took to get indoors were all that was needed to break the moment. Stepping inside, Steph felt self-conscious and awkward. Harry closed the door and turned to kiss her, but something about her demeanour must have alerted him. He gave a long appraising look which was followed by a small smile.
‘Tea? Something stronger?’ he said.
Steph felt the tension in her body dissipate and she was grateful for his subtlety. ‘Tea would be nice.’
As Harry went into the kitchen to make her a drink, Steph took in her surroundings. The decor was calm and soothing, soft greys, warm whites and the odd splash of colour here and there. She was in the dining area, which was open plan to the living room at the front of the property. Oak furniture and oak flooring brought the lodge feel of the property into focus.
‘It’s a bit spartan,’ said Harry, coming out of the kitchen with two mugs in his hand. He nodded towards the living room.
‘I like the minimalistic look,’ said Steph. Although, to be fair, he had taken it to the extreme with just one sofa and a chair.
‘I got rid of a lot of stuff. I thought I wouldn’t be coming back here again once I left the business side of things,’ said Harry.
‘You never properly answered my question the other day – what made you come back?’ Steph asked. ‘If you don’t like it here and technically aren’t involved with the business any more, what was it?’
‘Because my mum asked me to come for the reopening. She wanted to put up a united front. It’s what the Sinclairs do.’ He gave a roll of his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t asked. I try to spend as little time here as possible.’
‘Because of what happened?’
‘What do you think?’ He gave her a look which said she really didn’t have to ask.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. It must be awful.’ Steph went to say more but changed her mind. She wanted to know so much more about his life here before Elizabeth had died, but at the same time she didn’t want to hurt him by digging up painful memories. It wasn’t exactly the mark of a good reporter, she acknowledged, but her conscience prevailed.
Harry hadn’t missed her hesitation. He put the mugs down on the coffee table. ‘What were you going to say?’
She thought of Sonia and the pleading look in her eyes. She thought of Elizabeth – there was so much more to know. She reached out for his hand. ‘Do you miss … do you miss what you had before?’
‘Elizabeth?’
‘Was it a happy marriage?’
‘You’re quite direct when you want to be. Is this the reporter in you?’
‘No. It’s the woman in me.’
His thumb stroked her knuckles. ‘Elizabeth and I were very happy when we first married. It was a bit of a whirlwind romance, as they say, but I thought after ten months we were both confident about how we felt for each other. We married eighteen months after first meeting.’
‘Did anyone say anything about it being too soon?’
Harry let go of her
hand and with a small sigh sat down on the sofa. ‘In our eyes it wasn’t too soon but, yes, they did. My mother was particularly vocal about it. Not in front of Elizabeth though, which I was grateful for. It’s hard enough coming into a tight-knit family without the knowledge that more than one member of the family isn’t exactly happy about it.’
‘Who else? Dominic?’ asked Steph, sitting down next to him.
‘Owen, actually. Dominic was in no position to talk. He was divorced, had been through numerous girlfriends in quite quick succession, and was living with Lisa, who was the mother of his daughter. Lisa was there by default more than anything else, but they have a stable relationship now.’
‘What was Owen’s problem, then?’
‘He had a long, and I mean long, engagement with Natalie. Something like five years, before he finally asked her to marry him. I think he was making sure she’d put up with him before tying the knot, only to have it unravel at some point.’
‘Do you think Owen and your mum had reason to be cautious?’
Harry didn’t answer immediately, but when he did his tone was more sombre. ‘Elizabeth and I had a lot of fun in the early days. We did lots of things together, but after the wedding I had to knuckle down. The business was going well and we were really busy, trying to expand. Work took up a lot of my time. And when I say a lot, I mean it.’ He blew out a long breath. ‘I spent all hours working and I didn’t see it at the time, but it meant I neglected my marriage. Elizabeth found other ways to amuse herself. But deep down I knew she wouldn’t settle for just being someone who stayed at home. I knew she wasn’t like Natalie.’
‘Didn’t you want children together?’
He gave a small rise of his eyebrows and she wondered for a moment if she’d asked too much, but he answered after a moment’s pause. ‘I did, but at some point in the future. Elizabeth agreed, it’s just that her point in the future was a lot further away than mine. She still wanted fun and excitement. Elizabeth always wanted more. I thought I could keep up but I took my eye off the ball.’
‘It takes more than one person to make a marriage.’
‘But only one to break it.’
‘It doesn’t sound like that was you.’
‘Depends how you look at it. Just because I didn’t pull the trigger, it doesn’t mean I didn’t load the gun.’
‘I think you’re being very harsh on yourself,’ said Steph. She thought back to what Cameron had said about Harry’s temper. She still couldn’t reconcile his version of Harry with the version before her. ‘You sound very calm about it all.’
‘Time does that to you.’
Her heart beat a little faster as she realised this was her chance to find out from Harry his side of the story. ‘Did Elizabeth have an affair?’
The silence stretched before them and she could see the look of indecision on Harry’s face as he debated how to answer. She resisted the urge to fill the gap.
At last he spoke. ‘I think she did. She denied it and so did the bloke, but I found it hard to believe either of them.’
‘You confronted them?’
‘Hmm. You could say that.’
‘What did you do?’ she pressed. She needed to hear it from him.
‘Honestly, I really don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just say, I wasn’t a particularly good husband and I didn’t respond well.’
‘And now? What are you now?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never tested myself again.’ He looked earnestly into her eyes. ‘That doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I’ve just never felt the need … until now.’
Steph sidestepped the last comment. She wanted to know more about this man. ‘Have you come to terms with what happened to Elizabeth?’
‘Yes. I have. Look, it’s hard to explain but I did love Elizabeth very much in the beginning and I think her affair was a wake-up call. Yes, my pride was hurt, and I reacted in a way I’m not particularly proud of, but it was a wake-up call in the sense I realised my feelings for Elizabeth had changed. I didn’t love her. I knew she didn’t love me any more. It was after that we started to talk about divorce. It was complicated, though. We had a pre-nup but she wanted to contest it.’
‘You would have had a lot to lose.’
‘It doesn’t mean I wanted any harm to come to her.’ Harry’s voice was prickly.
‘I wasn’t implying anything,’ said Steph, realising she’d hit a nerve. She was fascinated by Elizabeth and fascinated by her marriage to Harry. She wanted to know more for her own personal reasons than she did for anything else.
‘If Elizabeth hadn’t died then I would have faced a lengthy and expensive divorce, no doubt about it. But if you think for one minute her death was convenient, then you’re barking up the wrong tree,’ snapped Harry. ‘Christ, I’m not sure how the conversation got to this place.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I only asked in the first place because … because I don’t want to assume anything or rush anything if you’re not ready.’
He kissed her hand. ‘It’s me who should apologise. I’m a bit defensive about it all, but just to reassure you, the fact that I’ve opened up so much to you already says a lot.’
He kissed her tenderly and Steph allowed herself to sink into his arms. It felt so reassuring and comforting. She missed having someone to hold and someone to hold her. It was probably the only thing she missed about Zac and about being married.
‘Have you ever thought of moving back to the area?’ asked Harry.
‘I don’t think so. Yes, my mum lives here, but I think we work better with distance between us.’
‘What does your mum do again?’
‘She’s retired. She’s busy doing her own thing; I don’t think she’s any more worried about our living several hundred miles apart than I am.’
‘What did she used to do?’
The question sounded casual, but Steph felt something in Harry’s body tighten. ‘She was in the civil service.’
‘Doing what?’
Why the in-depth questions? If she avoided them, it would seem odd. If she answered them Harry was bound to make the connection. ‘Honestly, my mum is the last person I want to talk about right now,’ she said. ‘It rather spoils the moment.’
‘I’m just interested.’
Harry’s phone rang out, coming to her rescue. He pulled an apologetic face. ‘Sorry, I’d better answer it, just in case it’s my mum. She’s not been feeling too well,’ explained Harry, extracting himself and taking his phone from his pocket. He walked out onto the front porch, closing the door behind him.
Steph wandered over to the bank of photo frames adorning the wall to the left of the chimney breast.
The photographs were family shots which, judging by the look of them, had been taken at various times over the years. One of the older photographs caught Steph’s interest. It was of Pru standing at the edge of a lake with three young boys, who Steph assumed were Harry and his brothers. They were all wearing wetsuits.
Harry came back into the room. ‘Just work stuff,’ he said, dropping the phone onto the sofa. He came to stand beside her. ‘Rogues’ gallery. This was my mother’s touch. She replaced all the photos of me and Elizabeth that used to be here.’
‘Wow. That was a deep clean of family history. Although, to be fair, I didn’t keep my wedding photos up after my divorce.’ Steph winced at her lack of tact. She went to apologise but Harry spoke first.
‘My mum meant well. At the time I was grateful not having to look at all those happy memories that had turned so sour.’ He gave a small sigh. ‘I really should look at sorting the photos out myself, or maybe just taking the whole lot down.’
‘Was this taken here?’ asked Steph, pointing at the photograph of Pru and the boys.
‘Yes, up by the lake. We used to swim up there a lot when we were younger.’
‘Your mum as well?’
‘Yep. She used to love wild-water swimming. She used to go up to the lake every day and swim for abou
t half an hour. It was her love of water sports that kickstarted the more recent changes. My father had it running as a country retreat, where men could fish and women could enjoy the walks or sitting by the lake. He was rather traditional sometimes, whereas my mother was always looking for ways to improve it and bring in a wider demographic of guests. She had the real vision.’
Steph noticed the affection with which Harry spoke about his mother. ‘What about your dad? Was he into the water-sports thing?’
‘God, no. He only had a financial interest in it,’ Harry said drily. ‘It was Mum’s passion for the outdoor life that drove it forward. At one point, Dad wanted to sell up – this was when we were kids – but Mum wouldn’t hear of it and stood her ground. He even threatened to leave her, but she stubbornly refused to go along with the sale.’
‘And your dad gave in?’
‘Probably the one and only time he had ever considered anyone else in his life,’ said Harry.
‘Sounds like my mum,’ said Steph and then felt like kicking herself for bringing the conversation back to Wendy.
Harry put an arm around her shoulder. ‘You do know you can talk to me about anything.’
‘Thanks.’ She continued to look at the photographs, more to avoid looking at him in case her eyes betrayed her. She slipped out from under his arm. ‘I’d better get back. I’ve got an early start tomorrow and I don’t want to get the sack.’ She had tried for a joke but it fell flat.
‘I’m sure your boss would forgive you,’ said Harry. He caught her arm and gave her a brief kiss. ‘You can trust me, you do know that, don’t you?’
Steph swallowed. ‘Of course.’
‘The same way I can trust you.’
‘Absolutely.’ She smiled, gave him a peck on the cheek and was gone before she crumpled under the weight of her lies.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harry’s Lodge, Conmere,
Sunday, 12 May, 7.20 p.m.
Harry closed the door as Steph left and gave a big sigh. He had given her the chance to confess about her mother, but she hadn’t taken it. She had chosen to deceive him, to keep the knowledge to herself. To say he felt disappointed was an understatement.
