by Lucy Gordon
They ran all the way, and as soon as they were safely inside Harriet locked the door.
Within hours of Darius’s arrival the news had spread throughout the island. Kate, who’d kept house for Rancing, had a ready audience in the pub that evening.
‘You should see the computers he’s brought,’ she said. ‘Dozens of ’em. One for this and one for that, and something he calls “video links” so he can talk to people on the other side of the world, and there they are on the screen, large as life. It’s like magic.’
The others grinned. Kate had never quite come to terms with the dot-com revolution, and most modern communications struck her as magic. She had little idea that behind its sweet, traditional image Herringdean was a more modern place than it looked.
Darius was also making the discovery, and was delighted with it. For a while he would be able to run his main business and his many subsidiary businesses, controlling everything from the centre of the web. It would be enough until he was ready to turn this place to his financial advantage.
Checking through the figures, he discovered that it was larger than he’d thought, about a hundred square miles with a population of a hundred and twenty thousand. Sheep and dairy farming flourished, so did fishing, and there were several industries, notably boat building and brewing. Ellarick was not only a flourishing town, but a port with its own annual regatta.
One source of prosperity was tourism. Now summer was coming, the hotels were filling up as visitors began to flood the island, seeking tranquillity in the country lanes or excitement in the boats.
Ellarick also contained an elderly accountant called James Henly, who had dealt with Rancing’s business. An early visit from him pleased Darius with the news that the rent paid to him by the other inhabitants was considerable, but also displeased him with the discovery that he was the victim of yet another piece of sharp practice.
‘Mr Rancing persuaded several of his larger tenants, like the breweries, to pay him several months’ rent in advance,’ Henly explained in his dry voice. ‘Apparently, he convinced them that there would be tax advantages. I need hardly say that I knew nothing about this. I was away and he took advantage of my absence to act on his own account. When I returned and found out, it was too late. He’d pocketed the money, and within a few days he’d vanished.’
‘Meaning that it will be some time before I can collect rent from these establishments again,’ Darius said in a mild manner that revealed nothing.
‘I’m afraid so. Of course, what he’s done is legally open to question since he made over everything to you, so technically it was your money he took. You could always try to get it back.’
His tone made it clear that he didn’t attach much hope to that idea. Darius, who attached none at all, controlled his temper. It wasn’t his way to display emotion to employees.
‘How much are we talking about?’ he said with a shrug.
He felt less like shrugging when he saw the figures. Rancing had staged a spectacular theft and there was nothing he could do about it. But at all costs Henly mustn’t be allowed to suspect his dismay.
‘No problem,’ Darius said as indifferently as he could manage. ‘The tourism season is just starting. I shan’t let a detail get me down.’
Henly’s eyes widened at the idea of such a financial blow being a mere detail. He began to think the stories of Mr Falcon’s impending ruin were untrue after all.
Darius, who’d intended him to think exactly that, asked casually, ‘Did he leave owing you any money?’
‘I’m afraid he did-’
‘All right, just send me a detailed bill. That’s all for now.’
For several days he remained in the house, rising early to link up with business contacts on one side of the world, eating whatever Kate brought him and barely taking his eyes from the computer screen. As the hours wore on, he turned to the other side of the world where he had business contacts whose day was just beginning. Day and night ceased to exist; all he knew was what he needed to do to survive.
On a whim, he searched the local phone directory until he found Harriet Connor, living in Bayton Street in Ellarick. A map showed him that it was in the centre of the town.
Then he put away the papers quickly. What did he care where she lived?
Thinking back to his work, at last he felt he’d put things on a firmer footing and could dare to hope. Perhaps it was time to venture outside. He’d hired a car but so far not used it. Now he drove into Ellarick, parked in a side street and got out to walk.
No doubt it was pure chance that made him walk down Bayton Street. He reckoned that must have been the reason because he’d forgotten her address. Now he found himself in a place of expensive shops and hotels that looked even more expensive. The tourist trade must be good. No doubt she did well out of the hotels.
There was her shop, on the corner, and through the open door he could just see her with a female customer. There was a child there too, and Harriet was talking to the little boy, giving him all her attention, as though nobody else mattered. He was clutching a large model boat, and Darius saw him turn to the woman and say, ‘Please, Mum. Please.’
He could just make out her reply, ‘No, darling, it’s too expensive.’
For a moment the child looked rebellious, but then he sniffed and handed the boat to Harriet. She took it thoughtfully, then suddenly said, ‘I could always make a discount.’
The mother gasped, and gasped again when she saw the piece of paper on which Harriet had written the price. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure. It ought to go to someone who’ll really appreciate it.’
Darius moved quickly back into a doorway as the woman paid up and hurried away with the child. The last thing he wanted was for Harriet to realise that he’d witnessed this scene. Instinct told him that she wouldn’t be pleased at knowing he’d seen her kindly side any more than he would be at knowing she’d seen his. Not that he admitted to having a kindly side.
He waited until she put up the shutters before hurrying back to the car.
The following night he was out walking again, much later this time. Darkness had fallen as he headed for the harbour. At last he came to a public house and went inside, only to find the place too crowded for his mood.
‘It’s nice outside,’ the barman suggested. ‘Plenty of space there.’
He led Darius to the garden, where a few tables were laid out. From one of them came laughter.
‘We’re near the lifeboat station,’ the barman explained, ‘so the crew members tend to come in here to relax after a call out. That’s them, just there.’
He pointed to where two women and four men were sitting around a table, laughing and talking. They were well lit, but then the lights faded into darkness, tempting Darius to slip in among the trees, hoping to remain unseen. From here he could catch a distant glimpse of the sea, that mysteriously always had the power to make him feel better.
A cheer rose from the table, making him back away, but not before he’d seen who was sitting there, surrounded by laughing admirers.
It was her. The Bad Fairy. Or was she now the Good Fairy? He wished she’d let him make up his mind.
The man beside her put a friendly hand on her shoulder, roaring, ‘Harry, you’re a fraud.’
‘Of course I’m a fraud, Walter,’ she teased back. ‘That’s the only fun thing to be.’
Harriet, he remembered. Harry.
Was there no escape from the pesky woman? Why here and now, spoiling his quiet contemplation? And why was she wearing a polo shirt that proclaimed her a member of the lifeboat crew?
Phantom was at her feet, and Darius had a chance to study him. Before, he’d sensed only a very large dog of no particular breed. Now he could see that Phantom’s ancestry included a German Shepherd, a St Bernard, and possibly a bloodhound. He was a handsome animal with a benign air that at any other time Darius would have appreciated. Now he only remembered the heavy creature pinning him to the ground and making a
fool of him.
The crowd around the table were still chattering cheerfully.
‘So what are we going to do about this guy who thinks he owns the place?’ Walter asked.
‘Actually, he really does own the place,’ Harriet sighed. ‘And there’s nothing we can do. We’re stuck with him, I’m sorry to say.’
A groan went up, and someone added, ‘Apparently, he’s spending money like there’s no tomorrow, yet according to the newspapers he’s a poor man now. Go figure.’
‘Hah!’ Harriet said cynically. ‘What we call poor and what Darius Falcon calls poor would be a million miles apart.’
Now Darius was even more glad of the trees hiding him, so that they couldn’t see his reaction to the contemptuous way she spoke his name.
‘It’s a big act,’ she went on. ‘He has to splash it around to prove he can afford to, but actually he’s a fraud.’
‘Gee, you really took against him!’ said the other woman sitting at the same table. ‘Just because he got mad at Phantom for ruining his suit. I adore Phantom, but let’s face it, he’s got form for that kind of thing.’
Amid the general laughter, Harriet made a face.
‘It wasn’t just that,’ she said. ‘It’s also the way I first saw him, with his head thrown back, drinking in the sun.’
‘Perhaps he just likes nature,’ Walter suggested.
‘That’s what I thought. I even liked him for it, but then I didn’t know who he was. Now I see. He was standing there like a king come into his birthright. He owns the land and he owns us, that’s how he sees it.’
‘He told you that?’
‘He didn’t need to. It was all there in his attitude.’ She assumed a declamatory pose. ‘I’m the boss here and you’d better watch out.’
‘Now that I’d like to see,’ said Walter. ‘The last man who tried to boss you about was me, and you made me regret it.’
More cheers and laughter. Someone cracked a joke about Darius, someone else cracked another, while their victim stood in the shadows, fuming. This was another new experience and one Darius could have done without. Awe, respect, even fear, these he was used to. But derision? That was an insult.
Walter leaned towards her confidentially. ‘Hey, Harry, make a note never to rescue him. If you find him in the water, do the world a favour and look the other way.’
Roars of laughter. She raised her glass, chuckling, ‘I’ll remember.’
That was it. Time for her to be taught a lesson.
Emerging from the trees, he approached the table and stood, watching her sardonically, until the others noticed him and became curious. At last Harriet’s attention was caught and she turned. He heard her draw a sharp breath, and registered her look of dismay with grim satisfaction.
‘You’d better remind yourself of my face,’ he said, ‘so that you’ll know who to abandon.’
She couldn’t speak. Only her expression betrayed her horror and embarrassment.
He should then have turned on his heel and departed without giving her a chance to reply. But Phantom had to spoil it. Recognising his new friend, he rose from where he was nestled beneath Harriet’s seat and reared up, barking with delight.
‘Phantom, no!’ she cried.
‘Leave him,’ Darius told her, rubbing Phantom’s head. ‘You daft mutt! Is this how you get your fun? Luckily, I’m in casuals tonight. Now, get down, there’s a good fellow.’
After Harriet’s dire warnings, his relaxed tone took everyone by surprise and he noticed that puzzled frowns were directed at her. Fine. If she wanted battle, she could have it. He nodded to them all and departed.
When he reached the road he heard footsteps hurrying behind him and turned, half fearing another canine embrace. But it was her.
‘That thing about leaving you in the sea-it was just a silly joke. Of course we’d never leave anyone to drown.’
‘Not anyone,’ he echoed. ‘Meaning not even a monster like me.’
‘Look-’
‘Don’t give it another thought. The chance of my ever needing to rely on you is non-existent-as you’ll discover.’
‘Oh, really!’ she said, cross again. ‘Let’s hope you’re right. You never know what life has in store next, do you? Let’s make sure.’
Grabbing him, she yanked him under a street lamp and studied his face, frowning.
‘You look different from last time,’ she said. ‘It must be the darkness. OK, I’ve got you fixed. Hey, what are you doing?’
‘The same to you as you did to me,’ he said, holding her with one hand while the other lifted her chin to give him the best view of her face.
Harriet resisted the temptation to fight him off, suspecting that he would enjoy that too much. Plus she guessed he wouldn’t be easy to fight. There was an unyielding strength in his grasp that could reduce her to nothing. So she stayed completely still, outwardly calm but inwardly smouldering.
If only he would stop smiling like that, as though something about her both amused and pleased him. There was a gleam in his eyes that almost made her want to respond. Almost. If she was that foolish. She drew a long breath, trying not to tremble.
At last he nodded, saying in a thoughtful voice, ‘Hmm. Yes, I think I’ll remember you-if I try really hard.’
‘Cheek!’ she exploded.
He released her. ‘All right, you can go now.’
Darius walked away without looking back. He didn’t need to. He knew she was looking daggers at him.
At home in Giant’s Beacon, he sat in darkness at the window of his room with a drink, trying to understand what had so disturbed him that night. It wasn’t the hostility, something he was used to. Nor was it really the laughter, which had annoyed him, but only briefly. It was something about Harriet-something…
He exhaled a long breath as the answer came to him. She’d spoken of seeing him on the beach, ‘standing there like a king come into his birthright.’
That hadn’t been her first reaction. She’d even said she’d liked him, but only briefly, until she’d discovered who he was. Then she’d seen only arrogance and harshness, a conqueror taking possession.
But wasn’t that partly his own choice? For years he’d assumed various masks-cool, unperturbed, cunning, superior or charming when the occasion warranted it. Some had been passed on to him by a father whose skill in manipulation was second to none. Others he’d created for himself.
Only one person had seen a different side of him-loving, passionate. For twelve years he’d enjoyed what he’d thought of as a happy marriage, until his wife had left him for another man. Since then he’d tried to keep the vulnerable face well hidden, but evidently he should try harder.
He snatched up the phone and dialled his ex-wife’s number in London.
‘Mary?’
‘Do you have to ring me at this hour? I was just going to bed.’
‘I suppose he’s with you?’
‘That’s no longer any concern of yours, since we’re divorced.’
‘Are Mark and Frankie there?’
‘Yes, but they’re asleep and I’m not waking them. Why don’t you call during the day, if you can make time? I never liked having to wait until you’d finished everything else, and they don’t like it either.’
‘Tell them I’ll call tomorrow.’
‘Not during the day. It’s a family outing.’
‘When you say “family” I take it you mean-’
‘Ken, too. You shouldn’t be surprised. We’ll be married soon, and he’ll be their father.’
‘The hell he will! I’ll call tomorrow evening. Tell them to expect me.’ He slammed down the phone.
Darius had a fight on his hands there, he knew it. Mary had been a good wife and mother, but she’d never really understood the heavy demands of his work. And now, if he wasn’t careful, she would cut his children off from him.
How his enemies would rejoice at his troubles. Enemies. In the good times they had been called opponents, rivals, competitors. Bu
t the bad times had changed all that, bringing out much bile and bitterness that had previously been hidden for tactical reasons.
As so often, Harriet was hovering on the edge of his mind, an enemy who was at least open about her hostility. Tonight he’d had the satisfaction of confronting her head-on, a rare pleasure in his world. He could see her now, cheeky and challenging, but not beautiful, except for her eyes, and with skin that was as soft as rose petals; something that he’d discovered when he’d held her face prisoner between his fingers.
This was how he’d always fought the battles, gaining information denied to others. But now it was different. Instead of triumph, he felt only confusion.
After watching the darkness for a long time he went to bed.
CHAPTER THREE
H ARRIET prided herself on her common sense. She needed to. There had been times in her recent past when it had been all that saved her from despair. Even now, the dark depths sometimes beckoned and she clung fiercely to her ‘boring side’ as she called it, because nothing else helped. And even that didn’t make the sadness go away. It simply made it possible to cling on until her courage returned.
She knew that people had always envied her. Married at eighteen to an astonishingly handsome young man, living in apparently perfect harmony until his death eight years later. As far as the world knew, the only thing that blighted their happiness was the need for him to be away so often. His work in the tourist industry had necessitated many absences from home, but when he returned their reunions were legendary.
‘A perfect couple,’ people said. But they didn’t know.
Brad had been a philanderer who had spent his trips away sleeping around, and expected her not to mind. It only happened while he was out of sight, so what was she complaining about? It was the unkindness of his attitude that hurt her as much as his infidelity.
She’d clung on, deluding herself with the hope that in time he would change, presenting a bright face to the world so that her island neighbours never suspected. Finally Brad had left her, dying in a car crash in America before the divorce could come through, and the last of her hope was destroyed.
