This Other Eden (Skimmerdale Book 1)

by Sharon Booth

  'I told you what you wanted to hear.' Honey wrenched free of Eden's grasp and glared at her, eyes flashing with anger. 'You did your duty. You told me to behave myself, and I salved your conscience. That's how it works, isn't it? If you hadn't been snooping on me you'd never have known and wouldn't have had this dilemma. Your own fault, really. You should know by now, Eden dear, no one tells me what to do. Least of all you. You're nothing but a glorified shop assistant, and it's time you realised I'm twenty-two years old and I do whatever the fuck I like.'

  'Fine,' Eden yelled as Honey walked away. 'Go and face the music, then. And good luck with it, because Cain looks ready to kill you.'

  Waving a hand airily, Honey didn't even bother to look round before disappearing into the house — a seven bedroomed neo-Georgian abode that was only beaten in Cain's affections by his car.

  Eden stood there for a second, furious with her and furious with herself for being so stupid as to take the job in the first place. Three years of Cain raging and Honey behaving like a spoilt brat, while she struggled to keep the peace between them. No wonder her life felt so empty.

  Joshua's window slid open silently, and he popped his head out. 'All clear?'

  'Oh, bugger off, Joshua,' she said. 'Turn off the engine and get the hell out of here. War's about to break out.'

  He swallowed. 'What do you mean?'

  'I mean, Cain's about to explode, and it's not going to be pretty. If you want to get out of here intact, I'd scarper.'

  He looked horrified. No doubt he remembered the tales of Cain's wild behaviour back in the day, and the many court appearances he'd had for wilful damage and assault. Of course, he'd either been stoned or drunk back then, and he hadn't behaved in that manner for decades, but Joshua wasn't to know that.

  'Shit.' His head drew back, and he began fumbling around. She was about to tell him to get out and she'd put the car away, when it suddenly shot forward.

  There was a moment when everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She wanted to shout out, but she was frozen.

  Then there was a mighty crunching sound and an eerie silence.

  Rooted to the spot, Eden stared at the Beetle—which had its front end firmly wedged in the boot of the Rolls Royce.

  'Dear God. I'm dead.' Had she said that out loud?

  'Oh, no, no, no.' Joshua appeared beside her, his head in his hands. 'I'm going to die, aren't I? He's going to kill me.'

  For the first time in three years, Eden was glad Cain was playing his terrible music at full blast. At least he wouldn't have heard the crash.

  'What did you do?' she murmured. 'How did you manage that?'

  'I don't know. I swear I don't know. I meant to turn off the engine. My foot must have slipped. I was panicking. I wasn't thinking straight. I don't know how it happened.'

  'How could it have happened?' It didn't make sense. The car hadn't even been in gear. Had it? She glared at him. 'You put the car in gear.'

  'No! No, I didn't. Well, maybe I did. I was playing around. I never meant to go anywhere, I swear. What am I going to do?'

  'Run.'

  'What?'

  'Seriously, Joshua. Luckily for you, Cain and Honey are a bit preoccupied at the moment, but it won't take long before they find out what's happened, and they'll both be gunning for you. Go home. You don't want to face them when they're in this mood. Give them a chance to calm down. Go on, run!'

  He didn't need telling twice. Stupid man was almost crying.

  Eden hurried down the drive with him and let him out through the gates. There was no need to tell him not to come back. She knew she'd never see him again. Thank God.

  After making sure the gates were shut behind him, she headed towards the house, casting a last rueful look at the cars. Knowing what Honey had been up to, she wasn't looking forward to the showdown, because no doubt Cain would blame her, and he'd be right. She should have told him about Honey's illicit meetings with Crispin Cavendish. It was part of the job and she'd let him down. Moreover, she should never have allowed Joshua to sit in the car, never mind turn on the engine. It had been irresponsible, and she'd seriously messed up on both counts.

  Eden would be lucky if she still had a job by the end of the day.

  Chapter Three

  Completely unafraid of her father, Honey headed up the solid oak staircase to freshen up. Combing her hair while standing in front of the mirror in her luxurious en suite bathroom, she studied her reflection for a moment, a smile of satisfaction on her face. She'd had a fun time, and knowing she had the adoration of a rather important man was a huge boost to the ego.

  Crispin was putty in her hands. Everything could all work out hugely in her favour. She just had to make sure that no one — least of all her father — put a spanner in the works. She'd have to make sure his damn wife kept out of the way, too, although that would soon be taken care of.

  Yes, things were going very nicely, thank you very much.

  Slipping her comb into her bag, she left the bathroom and walked confidently down the stairs, sauntering into Cain's den with a big smile on her face as if to demonstrate that, no matter how he raged and yelled, it would have no effect on her. He'd never raised a finger to her, and Honey knew that, deep down, it was all hot air. She'd realised that from a very early age. Even so, it had been a long time since she'd seen him so angry — not since she'd posted pictures on Facebook, showing him in the middle of having his hair dyed. That hadn't gone down too well, at all, though those particular photos must have broken some sort of record, with the amount of likes and shares they'd generated.

  Honey had been adamant he should be grateful for any sort of publicity at his age and refused to apologise. In revenge, he'd given away her thousand-pound television and laptop to the local charity shop, but after two days he'd gone out and bought her even better ones, so she wasn't bothered. She'd informed Snarler, from the moment he'd loaded the goods into his car, that it would be to her advantage, and she wasn't wrong. Her father was so predictable it was laughable.

  Shutting off the music, he turned to face Honey, his face stony.

  A weight creaked the stairs, giving away Eden in her attempt to sneak up to her room. Cain was evidently having none of that, because he threw open the door of the den and yelled, 'You! In here!'

  Eden crept reluctantly into the room and seemed annoyed to see Honey sprawled on the sofa, where she casually filed her nails as if she hadn't a care in the world.

  'Did you know?' Cain's voice was deceptively quiet, and Honey watched as Eden swallowed hard.

  'I discovered she'd been on a couple of dates with him,' she admitted. 'She promised me it was over. She swore.'

  'I'll bet she bloody did. And you were stupid enough to believe her? Why the hell didn't you tell me?'

  'Because she said it was nothing — a meaningless fling. I didn't want to worry you for nothing.'

  'I pay your bleeding wages! You tell me everything. That was the deal. Now look what you've gone and done.'

  'What do you mean? I haven't done anything. Don't start yelling at me, when it's Honey who's been doing whatever it is she's been doing.'

  'And what have you been doing?' he demanded, glaring at his daughter.

  Honey shrugged. 'You tell me. You seem to have all the information. Obviously, you've been spying on me like the saddo you are. You ought to concentrate on your own love life instead of worrying about mine.'

  Cain gripped the desk and visibly struggled to keep his temper. Honey noticed Eden sinking into the chair. It was probably a wise move. This could take a while, and she was actually trembling. Honey wondered why. Not like Eden to let such trifling matters bother her. Surely, she'd figured out by now that Cain was all wind and water?

  Realising her father was ranting, Honey made some attempt to look interested.

  'I haven't been spying on you, though Gawd knows, maybe I should have been. I was tipped off. Got a bleeding Facebook message, can you believe? Bin in me inbox for over a week, but I hardly
ever go on there, do I? Should have checked more frequently. Some tit calling himself Romeo Lovegod has sent me a private message, telling me my own darling daughter has been having it away with Crispin Cavendish. I mean, Crispin bleeding Cavendish, of all people! What the hell are you thinking?'

  'I'm thinking that if my own father is stupid enough to believe anyone calling themselves Romeo Lovegod, then he deserves the heart attack or stroke that's coming his way any moment now, judging by the way his face has turned that peculiar shade of purple.'

  Cain took a deep breath. 'Maybe I wouldn't have believed it, if he hadn't given me times and dates of your meetings, not to mention the places you'd met. And then there was the photo.'

  Honey put down her nail file. 'Photo? Someone's been photographing us?'

  'Yes, Honey. Someone's been photographing you. Now do you see the crap we're in? Do you never learn? Did all that stuff with Troy sodding Troughton teach you nothing? That's how you wound up with your babysitter there,' he added, waving a dismissive arm at Eden.

  'Thanks very much,' she said, looking offended.

  He rubbed his forehead. 'You've got no right to be upset, Eden. This is all your fault! So much for keeping an eye on her. Oh, if I ain't sick of her antics. She winds me up something chronic!' He glared at his daughter. 'You got away with it last time. Don't ask me how no one found out about you and that popstar idiot. For some reason, that journalist kept his trap shut.'

  'It would hardly have mattered if he hadn't,' said Honey. 'In fact, it would probably have done Troy a favour, since the marriage lasted less than eighteen months and she did that horrible story on his crap sexual technique in the papers.'

  'Which you said was entirely true,' Eden pointed out.

  'That's not the issue. Wonder how much she got paid for that? If she'd found out about me and Troy, she wouldn't have married him, and he wouldn't have had to go through that awful custody battle.'

  'I didn't know he had kids,' Eden said.

  Honey looked at her pityingly. 'For the Chihuahua, you idiot. Honestly, sometimes I think you never read anything decent like All the Goss. Too busy wasting your time with that Jane Eyre woman's books. What is it you're reading now? Sense and Senility?'

  'That's right,' Eden said. 'And when I've finished that I'm going to read Emily Bronte's latest. Apparently, she's just finished it, and it's a really funny romcom. Almost as hilarious as Withering Tights.'

  Honey tutted. 'Very funny. Everyone knows it's Withering Heights. You must think I'm stupid.' She turned back to her father. 'Can I go now?'

  Cain dropped down into his big leather chair and stared at her from across the vast expanse of his mahogany desk. Honey was aware that sitting there made him feel important. He considered his den to be his domain. The walls were decorated with gold records in black shiny frames, and photographs of himself in his heyday, getting drunk with the likes of The Rolling Stones and staggering out of nightclubs with his arm around some doe-eyed blonde or other. He'd even framed newspaper clippings of his court appearances, kiss and tells by various sexual partners, and the infamous article, written by a born-again Christian in America, claiming Cain was the evil son of Adam and Eve, reincarnated to bring hell and destruction to mankind. Cain had apparently found that one particularly hilarious, especially as he'd actually been registered at birth as Jeffrey Dennis Moggs, a fact he didn't like to dwell on. Neither did Honey, come to that. Honey Moggs simply didn't have the same ring to it. Thank God for deed polls.

  The room itself was strictly off limits to all but his nearest and dearest. The rest of the house looked like something found in an edition of Country Life. The only photographs on display in the other rooms were strictly respectable ones. Cain with his loving children; Cain with his late mother and father; Cain shaking hands with the prime minister after taking part in some charity event for sick children; Cain laughing uproariously at some joke the Prince of Wales had made at a country show; Cain proudly showing off the brace of pheasants he'd bagged while on a shoot at one of his showbiz pal's country estates.

  Oh, yes, the twenty-first century Cain Carmichael was an entirely different animal to the long-haired, out-of-control lout portrayed in the pictures looking down on the three of them. He was a changed man.

  The door opened, and Roxy, his latest bit of stuff, popped her head round, giving him an uncertain smile. 'I heard shouting. Is everything all right, Cainey?'

  Honey rolled her eyes.

  Cain tutted. 'It's family stuff. Nothing to do with you, Rox. Get out, and I'll come and find you when I'm done.'

  Hmm, maybe he hadn't changed that much, after all.

  Roxy withdrew, closing the door behind her.

  Honey scowled at her father. 'Can I go now? I'm bored.'

  'Bored? How dare you? Do you have any idea of the damage you can cause by having it away with Crispin Cavendish?'

  'His poor wife will be devastated,' Eden said. 'Honestly, Honey, you are selfish.'

  'Never mind his wife,' said Cain. 'What about the Party? Crispin Cavendish is hotly tipped for a top spot in the next cabinet reshuffle. The prime minister is very impressed with him, and he's got the backing of everyone that matters. I won't have you jeopardising our Party for anyone.'

  'Your Party? I didn't know you had a seat in the cabinet,' said Honey, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  'I may not have a seat in the cabinet, young lady, but I've donated enough bleeding money to pay all their wages for years.'

  Honey looked at him and wondered, not for the first time, how the tearaway kid from the council estate in south London, with a libido the size of Tower Hamlets and a mouth as wide as the London Eye, had ended up living in a twee Cotswolds village, hunting, shooting and fishing, being invited to tea by royalty, and calling the bluest of Tory politicians his friends. It beggared belief.

  It was almost as weird as her mother, a woman born into luxury and privilege, with a title and a family home that made Downton Abbey look like a weekend retreat, claiming to be a socialist and going on all those ridiculous rallies and marches in aid of various causes. Honey was pretty certain that it was mostly done to wind her father up. There was no other explanation.

  'You won't see him again,' Cain ordered. 'Do you understand? Not ever.'

  Honey laughed. Her father could be most amusing when he chose.

  'I don't see what's so bleeding funny. Crispin is too important to us. You're not going to ruin this for him. If the press get a whiff that he's not squeaky clean, his career will be over. Can you imagine what people will say? I'll be ruined. They'll never forgive me. My knighthood will be flushed down the bleeding pan, and all the crappy charity events I've attended, and all the cash I've handed over, will count for nothing. I'm not having it, do you hear me? I want my knighthood. I've earned it. You're not going to spoil this for me.'

  'I've never heard anything so pathetic,' said Honey. 'What do you want a knighthood for, anyway? Just 'cos your poncy showbiz pals have got one.'

  'Yes, they have! And why? Gawd knows, because I outsold them all at my peak.'

  'You outsold Paul McCartney?' Eden failed to keep the amusement from her voice. She must have had a death wish.

  Cain gave her a look of pure venom. 'Well, maybe not old Macca, no. You'd be amazed, though. And I wouldn't look so bloody amused, if I were you. Remember, all those record sales are paying your wages, lady.'

  'This is all because Rex Scotman got the OBE last year,' said Honey, breaking the taboo of mentioning her father's massive rival from his rock star days.

  'It's got nothing to do with it. I couldn't give a monkey's toss what happens to that moron. An OBE, my arse. For what? For inflicting a voice that sounds like fingernails running down a chalkboard on the world for the last thirty years? He should have been put in the Tower of London for high treason, not given a bloody medal.'

  'He's done an awful lot for charity,' Eden mused. 'He's raised hundreds of thousands for that educational programme in Africa and —'

&
nbsp; 'We've all done a lot for charity,' snapped Cain. 'I even bought one of his records once, and if that's not helping the aged, I don't know what is.' He turned back to Honey. 'Are you going to stop seeing him?'

  'Who?'

  'You know who! Crispin bleeding Cavendish, who else?'

  'Nope. I care about him. He's rather sweet.' She picked up her nail file again and smiled angelically at him. 'So, now that's settled, can I go?'

  'Right. If you won't listen to me, I'm calling in the big guns.'

  Honey and Eden exchanged glances. Who exactly were the big guns?

  Cain picked up his iPad and gave it a couple of taps. Honey frowned. What was the old goat up to now? After a moment or two, he gave a triumphant smile. Then they heard a familiar upper-class voice.

  'Cain! What in God's name do you want? I'm in the middle of lunch with my friends.'

  Honey giggled. 'Really? Big guns? Surely you can do better than Mother?'

  'Was that Honey? What's she up to now?' There was a big sigh. 'Honestly, this is too much. Will you excuse me, ladies, I'll have to take this in the drawing room.'

  Honey began to file her nails again. 'Well, if that's the best you can do, I think it's safe to say I'll be meeting Crispin for dinner tomorrow night, as planned. We have a lot to discuss. His wife is going abroad for the summer break, leaving him behind. He can't do sunshine. He burns. So, we're going to spend the summer together with her safely out of the way. Try to stop me, and I'll go to the papers and tell them everything, and don't think I won't. I've got nothing to lose.'

  'Crispin has,' Eden said. 'And you said you cared about him.'

  'I do. He'll get another job. He's bright enough.'

  'Honey, you really don't understand what he's risking here,' Eden said. 'This isn't just a job. This is his career. His life's work.'

  'You sound like my father.'

  'God forbid. Hell would freeze over before I'd vote for that bunch of b—'

  ''Bout time.' Cain, who hadn't been paying attention to their conversation, turned the iPad so they could all see his ex-wife's face. As always, she was made up immaculately, her blonde hair in a chic topknot, showing off the diamond studs in her ears. 'Are you ready now, Freya? Comfortable, are we? Good. So, would you like to hear what our darling daughter's been up to now?'