by Lucy Gordon
“How can anyone be so wicked as to want to spoil this place?” Brenda demanded. “Why here, when there are so many better places?”
“Actually there aren’t,” Justin said, with sudden realization. “Now we know what they have in mind, it’s obvious that Haven’s perfect. It’s an axis, with roads radiating in four directions to surrounding towns. The space is here—the green, the fields stretching behind it. Room for a shopping complex and a parking lot. Money will pour into Haven.”
“But Haven would no longer exist,” Sarah said passionately. She couldn’t believe Justin was talking like this. “The village will be buried alive under this development.”
“We need the hall,” someone cried. “What can we do?”
“Nothing,” Ted shouted. “The big boys have stitched us up. By God, I’ll have Norton’s head for this. He should have warned us.”
“He didn’t want to warn us,” Sarah said. “He’s delighted with all this because it makes him feel important. But it’ll ruin Haven.” She had her eyes on Justin. If only he would say something to prove her fears were wrong. But he’d fallen into a thoughtful silence.
Suddenly he turned to Brenda. “How state-of-theart is your computer?” he demanded abruptly.
“Web. Internet. You name it.”
“Can I use it?”
“Sure.”
The others began drifting to the pub, but Sarah followed Brenda and Justin to Colly’s house. There Justin got to work, and soon located D and S on the web.
“I recognize some of those names,” he said when he got a list of directors. “They’re tough dealers.”
“It is a powerful company,” Brenda said. She could follow what Justin was doing. To Sarah it meant little except as something that was calling him back to his old world. Her heart was heavy.
There was no consolation as they made their way home. He was sunk in thought and answered her abstractedly. Sarah was dazed by what was happening. To see Haven threatened and to suspect that Justin’s business instincts had been ignited by what, to her, was a disaster were too much to take in.
“Did you find anything out about this company?” Nick asked Justin. He’d gone back to the Haystack with the others.
“Only confirmation of what I already suspected. It’s a juggernaut, a money-making machine.”
He wouldn’t say more, but retired to his own room. A few minutes later Sarah heard him on his mobile phone. She tried not to listen, but some words refused to be shut out.
“We have to move quickly… I’ve only just found out… I know this place well, and I’ve heard of several things that we can use… No, that’s not good enough… Just do it. I want things to start happening tomorrow. And keep my name out of it… I have my reasons.”
“What’s he saying?” Nick demanded, appearing beside her.
“Hush, Uncle.” She drew him into the kitchen.
“Who’s he talking to? And why?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s trying to get in on it, isn’t he?” Nick demanded, outraged. “A money-making machine, he said. And he’s in the business of making money. We took him in, made a friend of him, and he’s going to stab us in the back.”
“No,” Sarah said frantically. “I don’t believe it— not now—he’s different—”
“The leopard doesn’t change his spots, darling.”
“He couldn’t do that to us, Uncle Nick. He knows what it would mean to us. There must be some other answer.”
“Then why is he acting in secret? Why not tell us about it?”
“I don’t know, but I won’t believe the worst of him until I have to.”
Yet despite the brave words she was afraid. Nick saw it in her face, and didn’t press any further. Sarah stayed up late, waiting for Justin to come out and say good-night. Then he would say something that would make everything all right. But he didn’t emerge from his room.
Next morning Justin had been scheduled to collect some goods from the wholesalers, but he excused himself, saying he had things to do but not what they were. Sarah refused to question him. She’d spent a wretched night, terrified of discovering she’d been living in a fool’s paradise. Once she heard his phone ring, and he’d answered it immediately, as though waiting for the call. She couldn’t hear the words, but she recognized the tone. It was urgent, driving, like a man making plans and intent on carrying them out. She remembered it from two years ago when his phone had often interrupted them. She thought perhaps she’d heard him say, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” but she couldn’t be sure because she’d buried her head under the covers.
He ate his breakfast in a state of abstraction while he studied the local map. He drove off without saying where he was going, but Sarah had seen over his shoulder that he’d drawn a ring around the town of Datchworth. It was ten miles away, and the nearest rail link. Sarah made the trip to the wholesalers herself, heavyhearted. Justin had said nothing about leaving, but now it looked as if he was returning to his old haunts to look up contacts. Perhaps he would never return.
She was away two hours. When she returned she saw him at once, but her joy lasted only an instant. He was sitting on the bench by the duck pond, in earnest conversation with a man who, by his suit, had come from town. Justin didn’t see Sarah, so absorbed was he in explaining something to his companion. As she watched he flung an arm out in an expansive gesture that took in the green and the whole of the vista beyond. Sarah hurried into the store and began unpacking the goods she’d collected. She was sick at heart.
“Will you believe me now?” Nick muttered.
“No,” she answered fiercely. “There could be all sorts of reasons—”
“Darling, use your eyes. He’s buying in. He’s a businessman. You heard him—a money-making machine. Wait until the others hear about this.”
“No!” Sarah seized his arm. “Please, Uncle Nick, wait until we know more. I know Justin—as he is now. He couldn’t do this to us.”
Nick looked at her sadly. “Do you really believe that?” he asked.
She turned away from his eyes that saw too much, including the doubt in her heart. “Promise me you won’t say anything yet,” she repeated huskily.
“All right, I’ll stay quiet for a while. But if he hurts you again I’ll break every bone in his body.”
Sarah managed a wonky smile at the old man’s fierceness. “He’ll tell us all about it tonight,” she insisted. “You’ll see.”
But Justin wasn’t in for supper that night. He came home late, having spent the evening with Colly and Brenda.
A motorbike drew up outside the store, and the rider came in, pulling off his helmet. “Mr. Justin Hallwood,” he said, glancing at the envelope in his hand. “Special delivery.”
As Sarah signed for the letter he asked, “Can you tell me where to find Hanmere Lane? Bloke by the name of Norton. And Mrs. Drew, Haven Manor, and these others.”
He showed Sarah a list. It contained five names, all of them members of the parish council. She clutched the counter, feeling suddenly ill.
She forced herself to speak calmly and give the. messenger directions. When he’d gone she stood staring at the envelope, trying to face the fact that the worst had happened. Here in her hand were the results of Justin’s machinations, and there could be little doubt what they were. Hallwood Construction and Engineering had put in its own bid, rushing it to the councillors before the D and S deal could be complete. Yesterday’s visitor must have been the representative of a bank, wanting to see the site before agreeing to the funding.
Suddenly she was swept by a wave of anger. How could she have let herself fall in love again with a man she knew to be hard, blinkered and indifferent to people? She’d believed he’d grown in understanding because her heart had longed to believe it, but the truth was he’d become worse.
Nick came in from the store at the rear. “We seem to be running out of—Sarah, what’s the matter?”
“He’s done it,” she said in a sha
king voice. “How could he? I’ve got to find him.”
“He’s out there on the green,” Nick said, pointing.
Sarah dashed out, racing across the green to where Justin was standing, looking out over the fields. He was so preoccupied he didn’t hear her approach.
“Are you pleased with yourself now?” Sarah asked bitterly.
“It’s a bit too soon to be—” Justin checked himself and turned to stare at her. “Hey, how did you know what I was thinking?”
“Because there had to be a reason for all those secret phone calls. I didn’t want to believe it. I thought you were better than that. But the leopard doesn’t change his spots, does he?”
“Excuse me?” Justin looked blank.
“This came for you.” She thrust the letter at him. “And the messenger had other letters for the councillors. So you can be glad things are working out as you planned.”
He was hardly listening. He tore open the envelope with feverish fingers, read the contents and yelled, “Yes!” to the sky.
“I hope it’s what you want,” she said in a shaking voice.
“It’s just what I want. This is wonderful! Sarah—” He reached out, but she backed away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“But, darling—”
“And don’t call me darling, not after what you’ve done.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“I know, and soon everyone else will know. And I tell you, you’d better get out of Haven while you’re still in one piece. Go back to London. Pull your strings from there, and don’t waste any time worrying about the people you betrayed. We’ve served our purpose. We put you on the road to a nice fat profit, didn’t we? And after all, that’s what really counts.”
Justin was very pale. “Exactly what do you think I’ve done, Sarah?”
“Oh, please, at least admit it. You’ve put in your own bid for this site.”
“What?” Justin stared at her, but before he could say more his attention was taken by an agitated figure running toward him across the green, waving a piece of paper and calling out in a strangled voice.
“Young man! Young man!”
Sarah turned and saw Councillor Norton, his face puce with fury. He was closely followed by a crowd of interested spectators, attracted by the excitement.
“What does this mean?” he demanded, waving the paper in Justin’s face. “What does this mean?”
“I should have thought it was clear enough,” Justin said, glancing at Norton’s letter.
Everard Norton turned to Sarah, almost gibbering. “Do you know what he’s done?”
“Yes,” she said tiredly, “but don’t get upset, Mr. Norton. Why should it make any difference to you which one of the—”
“Not make a difference? It ruins everything.” He turned to appeal to the crowd, which was growing fast. Around the green, doors were opening and people streaming out. “He’s destroyed the future of Haven. That’s what he’s done. Traitor! Traitor! The great vision that was to put us on the map—all gone because of some sentimental twaddle about gargoyles.”
“Gargoyles?” Sarah exclaimed. “What—”
“Gargoyles,” Norton shouted. He began to read from the letter, stabbing with his finger. “Building of outstanding historical interest—essential conservation—he’s had the hall designated as a grade-one listed building. Do you know what that means? It can’t be knocked down. There can’t be a development.” His voice rose to a shriek. “The whole scheme is ruined.”
There was a split second of total, dumbfounded silence. Then a deafening roar went up from the crowd, and the next moment some of them had converged on Justin, slapping him on the back, shouting congratulations. Others stood still as though the news was too much to take in, but gradually realization dawned, and their stunned looks gave way to smiles of delight.
Justin reeled under the impact of boisterous approval. He seemed to be shaking hands with everyone at once, but although he grinned and thanked them he was looking at Sarah. Her hands had flown to her face as the truth had become clear. She wanted to laugh and cry for joy. Of course he hadn’t betrayed them. How could she have thought that?
If only she could get him away, have him to herself for just a moment. But that was impossible. The crowd swelled as the news raced around the village. Everard Norton tried to voice his fury above the hubbub, but in vain. He was soon joined by Imelda Drew, “spitting feathers” as Colly later put it.
“So you did this?” Imelda snapped at Justin. “You’ve done nothing but make trouble since you arrived.”
“You ought to be grateful to me,” he observed. “I’ve saved you from having an ugly great development right opposite your front door.”
She reddened and fell silent, but nothing could silence Everard. “You haven’t heard the last of this,” he said, seething. “We’ll see what D and S has to say about your interference—”
A man in the crowd said something extremely coarse about D and S, and Everard turned on him, dancing with rage. But nobody was listening. They were all delirious with relief.
“Justin, why didn’t you tell me?” Sarah was half laughing, half crying.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said. “I never thought you’d really believe—why should you think the worst of me? What have I done to deserve that?”
“Nothing,” she said hastily. “But I know Hallwood’s is big business—”
“I didn’t know you knew anything about Hallwood’s.”
“Everyone’s heard of Hallwood’s,” she said quickly. “And you were so secretive—”
“You should have known me better,” he said seriously. “I love this place. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt it.”
“Not even for money?” she asked breathlessly.
“Not for anything.”
Ted had appeared, bearing huge tankards of beer, one of which he shoved into Justin’s hand. He demanded three cheers, and everyone roared while Justin looked both pleased and selfconscious.
After that things got out of hand. The crowd drifted over to the Haystack, some in and some outside. Uncle Nick appeared with Nicky in his arms. Parents went home for children, then settled on the wooden benches outside the pub. It was as though everyone recognized tonight as a landmark in the village’s history, and wanted their children to be able to say, in later years, that they’d been there.
Everyone wanted to buy Justin a drink. He normally drank very little, but this was his night, and it was sweet to him in a way that no other achievement had been. He took only a mouthful from every glass offered him, but after a while they mounted up, and he began to look a little disheveled.
Sarah watched contentedly, Nicky sleeping in her arms, her chin resting on his head. She knew Justin’s avoidance of alcohol had always been part of his ambition. He preferred to keep his wits clear with people he didn’t trust, and he trusted nobody. Now the sight of him letting his hair down with his friends filled her with delight. Her moment would come later. She could wait, hugging her secret joy to herself.
At the height of the evening the vicar arrived home and found the village apparently deserted. Wellfounded instinct directed him to the Haystack, where he was seized on, because everyone wanted the pleasure of telling the story again. George regarded Justin with awe.
“To think you thought of that and I didn’t!” he exclaimed. “How did you effect it so quickly?”
Justin considered for a moment. He’d reached the stage where speech required careful negotiation. “Got someone down here yesterday,” he said at last. “Most interested in the gargoyles—’specially that legend.”
“What legend is that?” George asked, frowning.
“The one about the biggest gargoyle—how the stonemason based it on the mayor, because the mayor was dallying with the stonemason’s wife.”
“Dear me! I don’t think I’ve ever heard that one before. Have any of you?”
Nobody had heard it before.
“It’s funny how these old legends start,” Justin declared. Solemnly he winked at George. Solemnly George winked back.
Sergeant Reg Mayhew dropped in, but observed that he couldn’t drink on duty. This problem was resolved by the removal of his police jacket. Closing time came and went, and at last Reg said unsteadily, “Got to be careful, Ted. Be closing time soon. Got to obey the law.”
“It’s a great thing, the law,” Justin observed to nobody in particular.
Everyone agreed with this profound statement, and on that happy note the celebrations began to break up. Justin managed to walk carefully home, but once there he sat down very suddenly on the sofa. He stayed there while Sarah put Nicky to bed.
“Sarah, I have a confession to make,” he said when she returned.
“Yes, darling?”
“I’m intox—int—you know what I mean.”
“Legless,” she said tenderly.
“Absolu—yes.”
“Then it’s lucky I’m here to take you to bed.”
They made their way along the corridor together, his arm about her shoulder. In his room she pulled the clothes off him and rolled him into bed. Since he didn’t seem to want to release her, she climbed in with him.
“Oh, darling,” she said, laughing, “you really did let yourself go tonight, didn’t you?”
“Drunk as a skunk,” he said happily, and passed out in her arms.
Chapter Eight
Justin awoke with a skull made of paper in which conflicting armies raged. Somehow he managed to get himself to breakfast, only to find Nicky smashing an iron hammer onto a steel anvil.
“Please,” he begged, removing the weapon from the infant’s hand. It turned out to be a plastic spoon, which Nicky was using to crack a boiled egg.
“Are you feeling rotten?” Sarah asked gently.
“Terrible.”
“You should drink more often,” Uncle Nick said heartily. “Then you’d be in shape for celebrations.” He went down to open up the shop.
Sarah produced black coffee, dry toast and aspirin, laid them down gently before him and crept away. The perfect woman, he thought, one who knew how to care for a suffering man. Nicky retrieved the spoon and bashed the anvil again. Justin winced.
