by Marie Laval
‘And his mother is wonderful and so much fun!’ Kirsty added. ‘I’ve met her a few times and we had great fun shopping together.’
‘You know the family well, then?’ Rosalie couldn’t help the bitter sting of jealousy in her voice.
Kirsty nodded, smiled and stretched her arm in front of her to admire the gold ring on her finger. An awful thought struck Rosalie. What if this was no mere accessory, but an engagement ring?
‘Let’s say that I have become very close both to Marc and his parents since starting work at the company. Marc and I are moving to New York to open a new office – a dream come true, both professionally and personally, for both of us.’
She started to walk away but suddenly turned round.
‘By the way, you might want to put the burglar alarm on before we leave. There were a couple of rough-looking men hanging about at the front of the castle earlier today. I thought they might be checking the place out and was about to call the police when your demented cleaning lady arrived. They hopped back into their big four-wheel drive and drove off.’
‘A four-by-four, you said?’
‘Yes, a big black one.’
She forced herself to remain calm. ‘What did the men look like?’
Kirsty shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Tall and burly, with buzz cut hair. They were dressed in black coats – leather, I think. Like I said, they looked a bit rough.’
‘Did you see their number plate, or the make of the car, by any chance?’
Kirsty let out a sharp laugh. ‘My eyesight isn’t that good. Your cleaning lady might have spotted something, though. Give her a ring … although I wouldn’t give much credence to anything that woman says. She’s a complete lunatic, you know. Not only was she incredibly rude to me, asking me all kinds of questions, and telling me stupid stories about the ghosts that supposedly haunt this place, but she also claimed that Marc worked as a translator for McBride, and that he’d been doubling up as your apprentice cab driver! She even claimed she didn’t know anything about McBride selling Raventhorn to Marc’s father, and had the cheek to call me a liar when I insisted it was true!’
‘You told her about it?’ Rosalie opened her eyes wide in shock. If Marion knew, the whole of Irlwick would know about it by the following morning, if not earlier.
Kirsty shrugged. ‘Yes, of course. It wasn’t a secret, was it? I’ll go and pack now.’
As soon as Kirsty had gone upstairs, Rosalie dialled Marion’s home number. She started by asking her about the two men Kirsty had seen near the castle.
‘I didn’t see much of them, love,’ Marion said. ‘They were just big men dressed in black. They left as soon as I arrived. Is there anything wrong?’
‘I’m not sure. I don’t like the idea of people hanging about when I’m here alone.’
‘What about that snooty blonde – the one with the designer clothes and the posh accent – is she not staying with you?’
‘Kirsty Marsh? She was but she doesn’t like it here. I’m taking her to the Four Winds tonight.’
Marion tutted loudly. ‘In that case, you should come and stay with us. I don’t like the idea of you being on your own.’ She paused. ‘By the way, what’s this nonsense about Geoff selling Raventhorn to that nice young man Geoff hired as a translator – the one who drove your cab when you were poorly?’
‘That’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Marion. Kirsty got things wrong, that’s all.’
Rosalie fanned her heated cheeks with a piece of paper. Marion may not be able to see how red and hot her face had become but her shaky, hesitant voice was a giveaway and she’d be lucky if the woman believed a word she said.
‘Hmm. I thought so. I mean, it’s not as if Geoff would ever sell Raventhorn. It’s his home, his life. Besides, where would you and Lorna go? No, I told my sister at the supermarket tonight that it was all a lot of nonsense.’ She paused. ‘The thing is, Elaine was doing her shopping and overheard me. She went as pale as a ghost and made me repeat word by word what that blonde woman had said. Then—’
‘Then what?’ Rosalie whispered.
‘She marched out of the shop, leaving her trolley behind. I wouldn’t be surprised if she decided to pay you a visit to talk about it.’
Rosalie dreaded the thought of such a visit – especially if Elaine had Rupert in tow. What could she tell her? Until she could speak to Geoff she knew no more about the situation that Elaine now did.
‘One last thing,’ Marion said, sounding indignant all over again. ‘That blonde woman also claimed she and Marc were … you know … together and as good as engaged. Fergus said this couldn’t be true, that it was obvious the man was besotted with you, so don’t worry too much about it.’
Rosalie’s throat tightened and tears pricked her eyes. ‘I won’t,’ she answered in a small voice, and put the phone down.
She had to get Kirsty to the Four Winds Hotel as soon as possible. If Elaine and Rupert came round now and found Raventhorn empty, they’d leave her alone, for tonight at least.
‘I’ll be glad to be away from here,’ Kirsty said when they set off half an hour later. ‘I don’t understand how you can be happy to live in that creepy castle.’
Rosalie sighed as she drove over the old bridge. ‘It’s where I grew up, where I’ve always wanted to live,’ she said. Once on the main road, she called Fiona on the cab radio to let her know she could close up for the evening.
‘I’m driving to the hospital to check on Geoff so I won’t be working,’ she explained.
‘You might want to keep well away from Raventhorn afterwards,’ Fiona remarked. ‘I’ve just had a visit from Rude Rupert who demanded I told him everything I knew about Marc Petersen. When I said I didn’t know very much about him, apart from the fact he is gorgeous, he threw a tantrum, shouted that he was going to get some answers from you one way or another and slammed the door behind him so hard my bones are still shaking! What’s going on, Roz, and what is he so angry about?’
‘I don’t know.’ So Elaine had alerted her son, of course, and now Rupert was on the warpath. Fiona was right. She would have to be careful tonight when she came back from the hospital.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The nurse stepped out from behind her desk. ‘I have news for you, Miss Heart,’ she said. ‘Mr McBride is conscious at last.’
Rosalie stared at her in shock. ‘Oh …’ She held her breath, bracing herself for bad news. She had been warned Geoff could be brain damaged or paralysed when he came out of his coma.
The nurse smiled. ‘Don’t look so worried. The doctor was very happy with his progress. Of course, Mr McBride is weak and disoriented, but that’s only to be expected. You can pop in and say hello for a short while. He’ll be glad to see you. In fact, he’s been asking for you ever since he woke up.’
It was as if a great weight was lifted off Rosalie’s chest and she could breathe again – hope again. Geoff would recover, he would leave the hospital and go back to being his old self, minus the whisky and cigars. She’d make sure of that.
She followed the nurse into the room where Geoff was propped up against several pillows, his eyes closed. His face appeared pale and thin, but most of the machines that had been bleeping and flashing constantly around him these past few weeks had been removed.
‘I’ll leave you for now,’ the nurse said in a quiet voice, ‘but remember you can only stay for a few minutes. He must rest.’
Rosalie nodded and approached the bed.
‘Hello, pretty,’ Geoff whispered without opening his eyes.
‘Oh, Geoff, I’m so happy to hear you at last.’ Repressing a sob, she grabbed hold of his right hand and squeezed hard.
‘Ouch, watch it, girl. That’s no way to treat an invalid.’ He opened his eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted in a tentative smile.
She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it, then pressed it against her cheek, by now wet with tears. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Alive. Barely. What about you?
Is everything all right?’ He looked at her anxiously.
‘I’m all right, don’t worry,’ she said quickly as she sat on the edge of the bed, reluctant to let go of his hand. ‘I don’t want to be cross with you – not just yet – but you have a lot of explaining to do.’
He sighed. ‘I know. Go on then, fire.’
She sighed. Now she could ask him the questions that had been burning her lips for the past few weeks, she didn’t know where to start.
‘I want to know why you sold Raventhorn without telling me,’ she blurted out. ‘Lorna and I had a nasty shock when Petersen announced he was the new owner. In fact, I thought he was lying at first.’
Geoff sighed. ‘It was cowardly of me to keep quiet about it. I wanted to tell you, but the longer I waited, the more difficult it became. As soon as I realised you were picking up Petersen from the airport, I rushed after you but then I had that stupid accident and I’ve been stuck in here ever since.’
‘It was no stupid accident. The Porsche’s brake lines were cut. Someone meant for you to crash. The police are investigating.’
Geoff gasped. ‘Really? I thought I had been driving too fast.’ He frowned. ‘Have the police found anything?’
‘Not yet. Do you have any idea who could have done it?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ll have to think.’ Maybe it was the harsh tone in his voice, or the way he narrowed his eyes to look away, but it sounded as if he already knew the answer.
‘Who was it, Geoff?’
He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a long breath. ‘I have no proof. It would be wrong of me to point the finger at anyone just yet.’ He opened his eyes. ‘About Raventhorn, I am so sorry, but I had to sell. I had no choice.’
‘You’ve had money problems before and you always bounced back. We could have organised more weddings or even conferences, we could have—’
‘There was no other way this time, but I’m confident that with Petersen, Raventhorn is in good hands.’
Rosalie bit her lip. Now wasn’t the time to tell him Marc and his girlfriend were planning to auction off the castle and all its treasures.
‘Why did you choose Petersen? Is it because of the runestone on their family farm – the one with the same raven design as the one on Harald’s shield?’
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘You know about that? I suppose Marc Petersen told you. I’ve been in touch with his father by email for months. He was very interested in finding Harald’s treasure. It was terrible that he died in that helicopter crash. I hope his son will show the same interest.’
Red-hot anger flashed through Rosalie. Letting go of Geoff’s hand, she jumped up from the bed and walked to the centre of the room. ‘Harald and his treasure, again! That’s all you ever think about, all you ever care about. When are you going to give up and acknowledge it doesn’t exist?’
He flinched and his face became even paler as his fingers gripped the sheet. Immediately alarm and remorse drowned her anger and she rushed back to his side. ‘What’s wrong? Do you want me to call the nurse?’
He shook his head. ‘No need. I’ll be fine in a minute.’ He took several deep breaths. ‘You are wrong, Rosalie. I care about you and Lorna a lot more than I ever cared about Raventhorn or Harald.’
He took a moment before he continued.
‘If I’m truthful, I cared about your mother even more. Every day without her has been a torment. It broke my heart when she died, as much as it broke yours.’
The pain in his eyes was so intense Rosalie took his hand again. ‘I know you loved her too. I’m sorry.’ She hesitated, torn between the need to find out if he knew about her mother’s secret past life and the desire to shelter him. The need to learn the truth won.
‘Actually, there’s something else. It’s about Mum. I don’t quite know how to say this, but I found something – something too shocking for words, something that changes everything I thought I knew about her.’
She bent her head, and swallowed hard.
‘Go on.’
‘First I found a photo of Mum and her parents when I was clearing out her room. I asked Lorna but she didn’t want to talk about it, so I did an internet search and found more photos – horrible glamour photos dating back to the late 1980s.’
She shuddered as she recalled how crude some of the images had been. ‘At first I thought I was mistaken. I mean, Mum would never have posed for such trashy magazines, would she? She had no interest in fashion or make-up, she hated having her photo taken. Then I looked more closely, and saw that it was Mum all right.’
She paused. ‘I just can’t believe she’d pose for those kind of photos. It’s disgusting.’
‘Poor Rosalie. I’m sorry you had to find out like that.’ Geoff’s voice was a harsh whisper. His blue eyes stared at her fixedly. ‘I should have spoken to you earlier. Once again, I was a coward.’
Rosalie gasped. ‘So it was really her? I was hoping I had got it wrong somehow.’ She swallowed hard. ‘And you knew. Why didn’t you tell me?’
The door squeaked open behind her and it was the nurse’s voice that answered. ‘I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave and let Mr McBride have some rest now.’ She walked in, pulling a trolley with medical supplies on.
‘Just a few more minutes,’ Rosalie implored, ‘it’s important.’
‘So is sleep,’ the nurse replied, a little more forceful now.
‘Please, Matron.’ Geoff gestured for the nurse to come to his side. ‘I promise I’ll do everything you say, take all your pills and drink every drop of your concoctions without a word of complaint.’
He gave her what he must have hoped was his most charming smile. It seemed to work. The nurse sighed. ‘All right, you can have five more minutes.’
As soon as she’d left, Rosalie crossed her arms on her chest and glared at Geoff. ‘Why did you not tell me before? Why did Mum never speak about her parents, about her past?’ She swallowed hard. The last question was the hardest. ‘Why did she not trust me with the truth?’
Geoff closed his eyes briefly. When he reopened them, they glistened with tears. ‘Because she was ashamed, Rosalie. She was terribly ashamed.’
Rosalie shrugged. ‘I know the photos are vile, and I can’t believe Mum got mixed up in anything like that, but I would have understood, I wouldn’t have judged her.’
His blue eyes stared at her. ‘You did judge her when you found out though, didn’t you? Anyway, it wasn’t only the magazines. Your mother suffered terribly for the mistakes she made when she was young. They cost her a lot – her family, her self-respect, her safety. She lived in a constant terror that you, or someone else, would find out about her and that the man she escaped from all those years ago would come after her –and after you.’
‘Who are you talking about? What man?’ Sudden understanding made her eyes grow wide. ‘My father!’
Geoff nodded.
‘Who is he? Where is he?’
‘His name is Jake Tyler and, as far as I know, he’s in jail in Winchester.’
A lump formed in her throat. ‘He’s in prison? What did he do?’
‘This time, he beat a woman up and robbed a grocery store, but I believe he’s been in and out of prison for a string of offences over the years.’
She took a deep breath. ‘You said he beat a woman up. Did he hurt Mum too?’
Geoff nodded. ‘Many times. And he forced her to pose for those magazines. But there’s more.’ His mouth twisted in a grimace. ‘Your mother believed that he set fire to your grandparents’ house to punish her for leaving him. They both died in the fire. The police couldn’t prove anything against Tyler at the time, so your mother decided to run away. All she ever wanted was to protect you from him.’
Rosalie’s stomach contracted in a tight knot. There did not seem to be enough air in the room to breathe suddenly. Her childhood dreams had just crumbled in a sordid mess at her feet. Her father wasn’t a rock star, a spy or a courageous explorer. He was a brute, a woman beater,
a convicted felon – a murderer, perhaps.
‘Why would he come after us?’ she asked in a hoarse whisper.
‘Because your mother took something from him when she left – a diary that could incriminate him and his associates in serious crimes. For years your mother lived in terror of him finding her – and you. Despite all our precautions, he did find you. I have no idea how. That’s what I was trying to warn you about that day before my operation.’
So that was why her mother always refused to be photographed, and shied away from any publicity and stayed in her room whenever there were visitors to Raventhorn. Sophie’s frumpy style now made sense. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, didn’t want to risk being recognised.
And what had Rosalie done? She had talked about her to reporters; she’d even given them her photo to copy. Anyone carrying out a basic internet search like the one she’d done would have been able to trace her to Raventhorn. If Jake Tyler had found her, then she was probably the one to blame.
‘I thought you said he was in prison.’ There was no way she would ever acknowledge this man as her father.
‘Men like him are dangerous, even from behind bars. They have no shortage of friends or accomplices to carry out their dirty work.’
‘Why didn’t Mum give the diary to the police?’
‘She was scared, love. She didn’t want to testify in court and risk his revenge. She just wanted to disappear and try to give you a normal childhood – as normal as it could be, under the circumstances.’
‘You could have given the diary to the police yourself after she died.’
‘I suppose so, but I wanted to protect you as well.’
Rosalie took a deep breath, pressed her fingers to her forehead. Her thoughts were all over the place. There was something she was trying to remember. Something about the diary, a vague memory she just couldn’t pin down right now. Never mind. She’d think about it later.
