‘You OK?’
‘Yeah. Just knocked the wind out of me for a bit. I’ll be fine. Pour me another glass of wine, please, babe.’
Ali handed Jules the full glass. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘Yeah. For once, I’m glad I’ve got a fat arse.’
Ali giggled. ‘One thing you don’t have is a fat bottom.’
‘Aw, thanks. Are you going to check your phone?’
‘Oh. I completely forgot about that.’ She grabbed her phone and saw there was a voice message. She retrieved it, stared at Jules and played the message back on speaker.
‘Hello, Ali. It’s Aidan. There’s something I need to tell you. But I’d rather do it face-to-face. I’ll see you at seven as arranged. If, by any chance, you hear anything concerning the centre, please ignore it. I’ll explain it all when I see you. It’s simply a mistake. And thanks for today. It’s the best day I’ve had for a very long time. I’m looking forward to many more like it. Bye for now.’
‘The nerve of the guy!’ Jules exclaimed.
‘Unless it is all a big mistake.’
‘Well if it is, he’s definitely got some explaining to do.’ Jules slowly got to her feet. ‘In the meantime, I’m pretty sure I’m OK. We’d better finish your hair, babe before one of us kills ourselves on this floor.’
Chapter Eighteen
Aidan slammed his phone down on the pile of papers on the coffee table. Bloody lawyers. Couldn’t they get anything right these days? First, they’d completed the purchase of the water sports centre and entirely missed the fact that the place was potentially landlocked. Without the strip of surrounding land, the only access was from the water. Fine, if you’re planning to build a marina; not so good if you’re building a housing estate – however upmarket those houses may be. Not all owners would want to shop at Waitrose, via a damn boat.
Now the useless dicks had requested a pre-application planning meeting. He had given them strict instructions that no planning application in any form should be submitted in respect of the centre for at least a fortnight, and only then, on his express say so. Heads would roll for this. It was another cock-up of epic proportions. They’d pay for their negligence, of course, but sometimes there were more important things than money. Did he really just think that? What was wrong with him? Nothing was more important than money.
In theory, even with this error, there was no way Ali, or anyone in the village would find out just yet, but the lawyers had already had a call from some interfering old busy body asking whether it was true that their clients wanted to tear down The Shimmering River and Water Sports Centre. That meant word had somehow got out, despite the fact that the meeting had only been requested to test the lie of the land as far as the planners were concerned. Ali and the others shouldn’t have found out about any of it until at least that meeting, and only then, if the planners felt it was particularly controversial – which it would be, no doubt. The Local Authority was in the nearby town of Shimmeringfold, but they’d know the villagers of Shimmering-on-Sea would be against it. If opposition began before the Rourkes had even had the meeting, no amount of ‘financial incentives’ would help persuade the Local Authority to lean towards the forthcoming application.
This was the last thing he needed right now. Those stupid lawyers still hadn’t tied up the loose ends regarding ownership of that adjacent land. They were supposed to have done that first before word leaked out. Now the price of that would go up and the Rourkes may have to haggle. He didn’t relish that prospect, and his dad would be furious. Get in and get out, with as little effort and aggro as possible, that was the family motto – and not just in business, either.
Bugger!
But he knew what these villages and surrounding towns were like. There was always someone who knew someone in the Local Authority planning department, or some bloody do-gooder who had friends in places they shouldn’t. Why had he thought this place might be any different? Not that he had. Not really. That’s why he’d told the lawyers to delay.
Sodding lawyers. He’d been looking forward to this dinner date with Ali far more than he usually did, and after spending the day with her, he was baying for blood when he found out there was a chance that some twat in the lawyers’ office might have screwed it up for him.
He wasn’t sure which annoyed him more. The fact that his instructions had been ignored; the fact that the additional land might now cost them a fortune instead of the bargain it, and the centre, were supposed to have been; or the fact that he wanted to see Ali so much that he was prepared to do anything to make that happen.
It shouldn’t have to be this hard. It never had been before.
On top of that, the time was going so bloody slowly. The hands on the clock in the stateroom of the yacht must be going backwards before going forwards because every time he looked at them, less than five minutes had passed. And a yacht was no place to pace up and down; it may be spacious for its size, but repeatedly walking around the same area was getting on his nerves.
It was no use. He may as well take the tender ashore and go for a walk along the beach or something. That might help him take his mind off the incompetence of those bloody stupid lawyers, because that was what was annoying him, wasn’t it? The fact that they’d screwed up.
Not the fact that Ali might not want to see him and could possibly cancel their date.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Tom Warner.’ Tom answered his phone after giving Simon an apologetic smile.
‘Tom. It’s Stephanie. Stephanie Bowls.’
Tom frowned. Why was one of the partners in Tabitha’s firm calling him at seven on a Friday evening? ‘Hi, Stephanie. This is an unexpected pleasure.’
‘I’m afraid it’s not, Tom. I was invited to Tabitha’s dinner party tonight and, thankfully I arrived early. I rang the bell and got no reply, so I peered through the letterbox and … well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll simply cut to the chase. There’s been an accident. Tabitha was lying at the bottom of the stairs.’
Tom shot to his feet, tipping over his glass in the process.
‘I’m on my way. Is she … is she … hurt?’
‘Of course she’s bloody hurt, Tom. She’s fallen down a flight of stairs. At least … I suppose she fell. You two didn’t have an argument and—’
‘No, we damn well did not! Now is hardly the time to be facetious or cast spurious allegations, Stephanie. You know what I’m asking. Is my wife seriously injured?’
‘I’m a lawyer, not a doctor. How the hell do I know?’
Tom gasped in exasperation as he grabbed his jacket and caught Simon’s look. ‘Tabby’s had an accident.’
‘Oh God. Is she OK?’ Simon stood and grabbed his phone.
‘No idea. This bloody woman is no help at all.’
‘I heard that, Tom. I called you, didn’t I? I’m not at all sure Tabitha would have wanted me to, but I felt you should know. Fortunately, I still had your number from the Bell-Smythe divorce we settled together.’
‘What? Stephanie, would you please tell me if Tabby is conscious?’
‘No. Well, she wasn’t when they bundled her into the ambulance.’
‘Ambulance? It’s there already? Thank you for calling them, at least.’ Tom rushed out of The Golden Dragon with Simon at his heels.
‘They were obviously the first call I made. I’m not a moron, Tom.’
‘Mind if I come with you?’ Simon asked. ‘Shall I call Ali? Or would you rather do that?’
‘What Simon? Oh, of course I don’t mind, and yes, please call Ali. She’ll want to know immediately.’ He returned his attention to his phone. ‘Stephanie? Where did the ambulance take her? The local hospital?’
‘St Joseph something or other. Is that the local one?’
Tom sighed. ‘Yes. That must mean they don’t think it’s too serious. The local hospital has limited resources. If they felt she required more extensive treatment, they would have taken her further afield.’
/> ‘Good to know. Right. I’ll leave it in your hands then, Tom. Got to get an effing train back to London, I suppose, as I obviously won’t be getting off with Davidson Throgmorton now, will I? Unless I don’t call and tell him the dinner party’s off. Now there’s an idea.’
‘Stephanie!’ Tom bit his lip. ‘I have more important things to concern myself with than your sex life. Thank you for calling me, and for everything you did for Tabby. Goodbye.’
‘Tom! Before you ring off, you may want to know that they had to break in to get to her. I’d call an emergency carpenter and locksmith to come and fix your door, if I were you.’
‘I couldn’t care less about the door.’
‘Tabitha would. And so will your insurers when you are robbed. I suppose I could stay and organise that for you. I could even stay the night in case they can’t get here right away. You’ll be at the hospital for most of it, I expect. Then I might still have a chance of hooking up with Davidson Throgmorton.’
‘Stephanie. Please do whatever you think works out well for all of us. I’ve got to go.’ He rang off, shoved his phone in his pocket and glowered at Simon who was matching his frantic pace. ‘Lawyers! We’re a bloody heartless bunch, sometimes. Have you spoken to Ali?’
Simon shook his head, his phone at his ear. ‘No answer. I’ve left a message for her to call either you or me. I’m calling Jules right now, to see if she knows where Ali is.’
‘Good thinking. I’ll get us a cab. Best not take our cars as we’ve both been drinking. The last thing we need is to be pulled over by the police. Then I’ll call the hospital and see if there’s any news. Perhaps I should do that first?’
‘No, Tom. Cab first. That way we’ll be headed to the hospital without more delay.’
‘You’re right. I don’t appear to be thinking terribly logically tonight. Oh, and that reminds me.’ He pressed the number for the local cab company from the contacts list on his phone. ‘I’d better call Gertie and pick her up on the way. There’ll be hell to pay if we go to the hospital without her.’
‘Call two cabs. You go to the hospital. I’ll go and get Gertie.’
‘It’s a good thing you’re here, Simon.’
Simon smiled compassionately, his phone still at his ear. ‘Jules? Finally. Thank God. Listen, I need to get hold of Ali. Do you know where she is? Her mum has had an accident. Tom, Gertie and I are on our way to the hospital but Ali isn’t answering her phone.’
Chapter Twenty
Aidan held out a bouquet of twenty-four red roses tied with a lavish red and gold heart-patterned, bow.
Ali glanced at the flowers dismissively before glowering at his contrite face. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do, and it’ll take more than flowers, however beautiful, to placate me at the moment, or to persuade me to go out to dinner with you.’
Strands of his dark hair lifted in the gentle, summer-evening breeze and he ran a hand through the short fringe to push it from his face. ‘You’ve heard then?’
‘Yes, I’ve heard. So it’s true?’
He shook his head. ‘Not exactly. May I come in and explain?’
‘No. What does, “not exactly” mean? Is there a planning application or isn’t there?’
‘Yes and no. Wait!’ He slapped his free hand against the front door as Ali began to close it. ‘It wasn’t a planning application. It was an application for a pre-planning meeting, just to see whether there was any likelihood of planning being granted in the future. Nothing is definite. We simply wanted to keep our options open. The centre is only just managing to keep afloat – excuse the pun – and as businessmen, we need to explore all alternatives available to us. It was just an idea. An idea that I pulled the plug on, shortly after I met you. It wasn’t supposed to have been filed. It should have been shelved. The lawyers cocked up.’
Ali stared at him. Was he telling the truth? The part about the centre not being profitable was true. ‘I know Denny Davis, the former owner was struggling to keep his head above water.’ Rats. Now she was using puns. She took a deep breath. ‘Are you actually saying that you were going to lodge redevelopment plans for the centre but you met me and suddenly and miraculously changed your mind? Do you honestly expect me to believe that I had such a dramatic effect on you, you were willing to scrap an elaborate plan with the potential to make you and your father’s companies millions of pounds?’
‘No. I’m saying we were going to make enquiries regarding the future likelihood of permission being granted, should we decide the centre wasn’t viable. The meeting was merely to see what may or may not be possible. But at this moment in time, I don’t expect you to believe anything I say. I’m just telling it like it is. And without wanting to bruise your ego in any way, shape or form, it wasn’t just you that made me change my mind. It was seeing the centre again. I’d only seen it once, very briefly before we bought it, but coming back, made me view it in a different light. I told them to put it on hold on Monday. After spending such a fabulous day with you today, I called them this afternoon to tell them I’d made a decision. That’s when I found out they’d screwed up and filed it. Believe me, I was livid. I’m rather ashamed to say, I completely lost it, and I think someone may end up paying for their incompetence with their job, in addition to the compensation we’ll be getting for the firm’s negligence.’
He didn’t look ashamed. If anything, he looked angry but also a little … smug.
‘Their job? You mean someone might be sacked over this?’
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘But that’s awful. Everyone makes mistakes, Aidan. No one’s died. I agree that perhaps someone should be hauled over the coals for it, but losing their job is a bit drastic.’
An odd expression appeared on Aidan’s face, but it disappeared in a flash. It was as if he had suddenly realised he’d said the wrong thing and was trying to make amends.
‘Oh I agree. It may not come to that. I’ll see if a word or two from me will have any effect. We do give the firm a substantial amount of business, in spite of their recent screw ups, so you never know. It may do something.’
‘That’s a kind thought.’
‘Hey. A man’s got to do what he can to put things right. Is there anything I can do to put tonight, right?’ He grinned and cocked his head to one side. ‘At least take the flowers, even if all you do is throw them at me.’
Ali smiled. ‘They are beautiful flowers. It would be a shame to throw them at you.’ She reached out and took the bouquet. ‘Thank you.’
He stepped awkwardly from foot to foot. ‘Um. I’ll leave you in peace then. I really am sorry, Ali. You’ll never know how much I was looking forward to tonight. I can’t quite believe it myself, so why should you? I hope, in time, you’ll see that I mean what I say.’ He hesitated for a moment, threw her a rather pathetic smile and turned to walk away. ‘Goodnight, Ali. I hope you have a better evening than I know I’ll be having.’
‘Aidan, wait.’ Was she really going to say this? Did she honestly still want to go out on this date? ‘I’m not sure whether I should believe you or not. It sounds a little far-fetched and it’s definitely confusing. But I believe in people getting second chances. So I’ll go to dinner with you tonight. Assuming you still want me to, of course.’
His face lit up like a street lamp. ‘Still want you to? You have no idea how much I want you. You’ll have a good time. I can promise you that.’
‘Come in then. I’ll put these beautiful flowers in water and grab my bag.’
He followed her up the stairs leading to Jules’ flat above the Shimmering Scissors Hair and Beauty salon, and waited whilst Ali tried to find a vase amongst the chaos.
‘Excuse the mess,’ she said. ‘Jules is planning her wedding and she believes in exploring everything on offer, hence all the magazines, swatches, samples, books, DVDs and boxes.’
‘Really? My place looks just like this, and I’m not planning a wedding. Well. Not yet, anyway. But who knows what the not too distant future may bring?’
Ali shot a look at him. That was a throwaway line; it must have been.
‘Can I help?’ He added.
‘Thanks. I’ve only been staying here for a few days, so I’m not sure where Jules keeps her vases and she and Bruce left for a weekend away, less than five minutes ago, so I don’t want to call her and ask. Oh wait. I think I’ve found one.’ She pulled out a tall, cut glass vase, and smiled at Aidan. ‘Purple. I might have guessed. Jules has a thing for purple and gold.’
Aidan cast his eyes around the room and grinned. ‘I’d never have guessed.’
‘You should see her salon downstairs. And don’t even get me started on the wedding invitations, bridesmaids’ dresses, table decorations, floral arrangements, buttonholes and wedding cake.’
Ali took the vase into the kitchen to fill it with water and Aidan followed her, leaning against the door frame and watching her every move. At least, it felt as if he was.
She placed the roses in the vase and arranged them as best she could with shaking hands. The intensity of his gaze disconcerted her. As if she stood in a spotlight on an otherwise empty stage, performing the role of her life to win a much-desired part.
She turned the tap on again, letting cold water trickle through her fingers and over her palms. She added soap, in the pretence of washing her hands, not just trying to cool her overheated body and then quickly dried them.
‘Jules has even planned her wedding so that it falls during Advent,’ she continued, rambling in order to avoid his eyes. She grabbed the rose-filled vase and placed it, like a make-shift shield, in front of her as she walked towards the doorway. ‘Apparently, purple vestments are worn in December. Although the local vicar very kindly told her that he would wear whatever colour she wanted, if it meant that much to her. Provided she agreed to attend church more frequently than she currently does. Which means she only has to go a couple of times in future because until now, she never goes at all. Other than on Christmas Eve.’ Aidan hadn’t cleared her path so she had no choice but to stop in front of him, push past him, or ask him to move. ‘We all … go to church … on Christmas Eve … for some reason.’
It Takes Two Page 11
