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An Eligible Bachelor

Page 39

by Veronica Henry


  What about what I went through?’ he demanded. ‘I got a bit of a shock over my morning coffee, I can tell you.’

  ‘The difference being I didn’t go out to make you suffer.’

  ‘Oh yes. Honor McLean. The professional victim. Always wronged, but never in the wrong’

  Her distaste was palpable as she pushed past him into the living room. Johnny followed, and stopped short when he saw a figure standing rather awkwardly by the fireplace. It was Guy, half wishing he’d slipped out the back door to leave them to settle their differences, but knowing that Honor deserved his support.

  ‘Surprise, surprise,’ said Johnny, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

  ‘Actually,’ said Guy, ‘I’m just here to explain.’

  ‘Nothing needs explaining. It was all there in black and white and words of one syllable.’

  Guy tried to hide his exasperation. He was hoping to get through this encounter without losing his temper, but he was already prejudiced. He’d hated seeing Honor suffer over the past couple of hours, trying to remain brave while inside she was obviously in turmoil, her little face set in a mask of distress. And he didn’t think you could sink any lower than to use a child as a weapon; it was despicable. But if he was going to convince Johnny, he had to remain cool.

  ‘You know, that’s why papers like the Voice survive,’ he said calmly. ‘Because the people that read them choose to believe the rubbish they read, instead of chucking it in the bin where it belongs.’

  Johnny looked at him sharply. Was he being patronized?

  ‘There’s no smoke without fire, surely?’ he retaliated, a trifle smugly.

  ‘I can assure you – there’s absolutely nothing going on between me and Honor. She’s my employee and that’s the extent of the relationship. The whole story’s been cooked up by the paper and I just want to apologize for any distress it’s caused you.’

  ‘I’m not distressed. Though how Ted will feel in the playground next week I can’t say. I’m sure word will have got round.’

  Honor stepped forward, her fists clenched. It was typical of Johnny to be able to go straight for the Achilles heel. But Guy shot her a warning glance. He’d got her into this and he was going to get her out.

  ‘If anybody’s spiteful or unkind enough to say anything, I’m sure Honor will do a great job of explaining how the truth’s been twisted. The paper lost out on a scoop on Richenda last week and this was their retaliation. Unfortunately they specialize in insinuation that isn’t underpinned by anything remotely resembling the truth. They present it as fact, and unless you’ve got the time and patience to read between the lines you can come away with the wrong impression. Which is understandable: they do a very good job.’

  Despite himself, Guy managed a self-deprecating grin; a blokey attempt to get Johnny on his side.

  ‘I can tell you, I had quite a bit of explaining to do myself. Richenda wasn’t remotely impressed. But I’m afraid it goes with being engaged to a celebrity. I don’t suppose I’ll ever be able to look at another woman without it being all over the front pages.’

  Johnny nodded his acceptance of Guy’s explanation.

  ‘Yeah, well, life’s a bitch, eh? I suppose you weighed it all up before you asked her to marry you. I’m sure she’s got a lot of other attributes that more than make up for the inconvenience.’

  Guy’s face remained remarkably impassive.

  ‘I just want to be sure that you’re quite happy Honor is the innocent party in all of this? It’s my fault – I should have realized they’d be looking for an angle. I should have done more to protect her.’

  ‘I’m sure it happens all the time,’ said Johnny. ‘Occupational hazard.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Guy, relieved that Johnny seemed mollified. He raised a hand in farewell. ‘Right, well, see you. Take care. I’ll see myself out.’

  A moment later the front door clicked shut.

  ‘Wanker,’ Johnny muttered under his breath.

  ‘What do you mean?’ demanded Honor indignantly.

  ‘All that bloody pseudo-apologetic Hugh Grant frightfully-sorry waffle. You watch, I bet in six months’ time he’ll be caught in a brothel wearing ladies’knickers.’

  ‘Johnny!’

  ‘He’s the pervy public-school type. You can see it a mile off’.

  Honor suddenly found she’d run out of patience with Johnny and his conspiracy theories. She rolled her eyes and stood up.

  ‘Whatever you want to think. I’ll go and get Ted so he can say thank you. Then I think you better go.’

  ‘Hang on – we’ve still got some talking to do.’

  ‘Have we?’

  He dropped his voice, so it was low and persuasive.

  ‘Honor. You read my letter.’

  She stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘You honestly don’t think that after today we can make it work?’

  Johnny sighed, and took her hands. Honor tried not to snatch them away.

  ‘Listen, I misunderstood. You can’t blame me for misunderstanding. I’ve forgiven you.’

  Honor looked at him incredulously. That wasn’t what she’d meant at all. She hadn’t committed any crime, yet here was Johnny still implying she was the guilty party. While all along he had done something so hideous that it made her feel sick even now to think of it. She had been terrified when he threatened not to bring Ted back. Even though it had been a hollow threat. And what it made her realize was that Johnny was capable of incredible cruelty while remaining oblivious to the distress he caused. That was no basis for a relationship.

  Nevertheless, she needed to be cautious. He was still prickly and defensive, on his back foot. She had to couch her rejection in general terms, not point the finger of blame at him. She didn’t want to make an enemy of him. There was Ted to consider, after all. So she had to tread a careful path through this minefield.

  ‘Johnny – I’ve given it some really serious thought. I don’t want to share my life with anybody at the moment. What Ted and I have got is perfect. I don’t want to risk spoiling it just so I can have the benefit of a relationship. You can see him as often as you like – I don’t have a problem with that. We can even go on holiday together if you want. But I think we’d be better keeping things as they are, rather than putting ourselves under pressure. Do you understand?’

  Johnny’s face was bleak. He didn’t respond. Honor ploughed on, desperate for him to see her side of the story.

  ‘We’ve barely managed to get through one week without ending up hurting each other. We can’t put Ted through that again and again. Or ourselves.’

  Johnny finally spoke.

  ‘Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?’

  ‘No. I think I’m a good mother to Ted, and you’ll be a great father. But I don’t think we’d work as a team. We’re both too set in our own ways – I know I am. I’d find it incredibly difficult to fit someone else into my life after all these years. I’d be impossible. We’d squabble and fight. And sulk. But if we do it my way…’

  ‘OK,’ said Johnny, pulling away from her sharply. ‘Let’s do it your way. That seems fair.’

  He turned to walk towards the door, but not before Honor had seen a tear glistening in the corner of his eye.

  ‘Don’t you want to say goodbye to Ted?’

  Johnny shook his head, his voice choked as he reached for the door handle.

  ‘Tell him I had to go. I’ll call him later.’

  Honor waited until she heard the door close, then blew out her cheeks in a puff of relief and flopped down on the sofa. She wasn’t too taken in by the dramatic exit. Johnny was very good at milking situations.

  She heard Ted pounding down the stairs and burst in through the door.

  ‘He hasn’t gone, has he?’

  ‘He had to, darling. He’ll phone you tonight.’

  ‘Was Guy here?’

  ‘Yes, but he had to go too.’

  Ted looked away, frowning. Honor could see there was som
ething going on in his little head, and wondered if Johnny had said anything to him. Worse, if he’d actually seen the paper. She wouldn’t put it past him to embroil Ted in his games.

  ‘Is there something the matter?’ she asked, sick with anxiety. The poor kid could be imagining all manner of things.

  Ted nodded.

  ‘Tell me.’

  Ted slid on to her lap.

  ‘Monkey’s got a hole in him. Right near his tail. Johnny said he couldn’t fix it, but I thought he was a vet. And there’s all stuff coming out.’

  Honor hugged her son to her, trying not to laugh with relief. The entire episode had passed him by. If only Ted’s life could stay that simple for ever. Well, as long as it was just the two of them, maybe it could…

  Guy walked back down to Eversleigh Manor with a heavy heart. The urge to punch Johnny right in the nose had been hard to suppress. He’d hated trying to placate him; the words had stuck in his craw, but he thought he’d managed to convince him of Honor’s innocence. Hopefully, they could now iron things out between them, if only for Ted’s sake. Guy sighed: he’d got some ironing of his own to do now.

  The house was eerily quiet. He wondered where Richenda might be. There was no trace of her in the kitchen or the small sitting room – nor of anyone else. He ran lightly up the stairs to the bedroom and pushed open the door.

  He knew immediately that she was gone. All traces of her had been eradicated: her silk dressing gown, her shoes, the cosmetics that were usually scattered on the bedside table. There was no evidence at all that she had ever been there – except for a piece of cream notepaper on his dressing table, pinned down by the small leather box he had opened so proudly when he’d asked her to marry him.

  He flipped it open, turning the ring over and over, admiring the deep redcurrant glow of the ruby, rubbing the cool gold against his fingers as he read the blue ink spread across the letter underneath.

  Darling Guy

  Everything that has happened recently has forced me to make a choice. I don’t think I’m the right person for you, or for Eversleigh. I simply don’t belong in your world. My career, my schedule, the publicity – the whole circus! – don’t allow me to compromise, and I can’t give it all up – not yet. It is the only thing I have ever had that is my own. It’s my security, my identity – it is me. I hope you understand.

  We had a wonderful time and I will never forget you. I know you will find the right person to look after Eversleigh for you.

  Love,

  Richenda

  There was no hint of reproach in the letter. No malice or resentment. It was typical Richenda: calm and gracious. Guy sat down on the bed. Half of him thought that he should go after her, insist they could work it out, but he knew his heart wouldn’t be in it. Their engagement would lurch on, only to come to a more unpleasant end sometime in the future. Richenda didn’t deserve that.

  She’d had the sense to realize they weren’t compatible. She’d put her finger on it. She didn’t belong in his world, any more than he belonged in hers. He wasn’t turned on by auditions and film schedules and premières, any more than she was interested in the politics of the village fête or how high the hedges should be cut. They had high maintenance lifestyles that couldn’t run in tandem, and neither of them could be expected to sacrifice their existence for the sake of the other.

  Guy felt a sudden surge of gratitude to Richenda for having the balls to call it off. He wanted to ring her, to make sure there were no hard feelings, but it might be best to give her some time to lick her wounds. He felt sure she’d be in touch when she felt up to it. She was, after all, no coward. What she’d done had been incredibly brave.

  He put the letter back on the dressing table, then picked up the little leather box and slipped the ring gently back inside. As the lid snapped down, he gave a wry smile.

  He was a bona fide eligible bachelor once again.

  Richenda arrived back at her flat exhausted. All she could think about was opening a bottle of cold white wine and having a good weep on her mother’s shoulder. Thank God Sally was going to be there, she thought. For the first time in her adult life she felt as if she needed her mum. She needed a shoulder to cry on belonging to someone that wouldn’t judge her. She knew she’d handled the day’s events with a cool dignity, but she didn’t think she had the strength to carry on pretending. It was so exhausting, being Richenda Fox. For just one night she wanted to be Rowan Collins again, take off the mask, drop the facade. And there was only one person she could do that with.

  She stuck the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

  ‘Hello!’ she called, dragging her case in after her and dumping it in the hall.

  The flat was decidedly empty. Checking her watch, she saw it was only just after five and Sally could be out somewhere. She’d go and have a shower, get changed and nip down to the deli to get some bits and pieces for supper. She realized she hadn’t actually eaten anything all day.

  She dragged her case into her bedroom. There was a note on the bed.

  Dear Richenda

  I’m going off for a few weeks to get my head together. I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done but it would be too easy for me to hitch myself to your wagon, and I don’t want to do that. I need to prove that I can stand on my own two feet and do something for myself. It’s the only way I’m going to get back my self-respect. When I come to your wedding I want to be ME, not just your mother. Though I’m very proud to be that, of course! I hope you understand…

  I’ll get back in touch when I’ve sorted myself out. In the meantime, you’ve got my number, but you’re only to use it in an EMERGENCY. Please respect me for this.

  Lots and lots of love

  Mum xxxx

  Richenda put the note back on the bed. With shaking hands she took her mobile out of her handbag, scrolled through until she found the number she wanted, and pressed the call button.

  ‘Mum?’ she said plaintively when Sally answered. ‘This is an emergency…’

  27

  On Tuesday morning, Honor woke up and groaned. Absolutely the only thing she could think of to be grateful for was that there was no school. She didn’t have to go and face curious stares at the gates. She did need to go and get milk and bread, though, and she didn’t think she could brave the village shop. She’d have to get in the car and drive to Eldenbury. Even then she risked being spotted by someone she knew.

  The full import of what had happened yesterday had taken until now to hit her. The paper’s revelations had been rather overshadowed by Johnny’s reaction – or rather, his over-reaction. But now she had to accept that the whole village – the whole county, the whole country! – thought she had been at it with Guy. Who had made it abundantly clear that he was, quite literally, otherwise engaged. It was a bit like walking round with your skirt tucked into your knickers. Honor felt humiliated, exposed. She never wanted to show her face in public again.

  Worse than that, she was supposed to go and work at Eversleigh Manor this morning. But wild horses wouldn’t drag her there. What if she bumped into Richenda? Not what if – she was bound to! What the hell could she say? She wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye. Even though she was technically innocent of what the papers had insinuated, Honor knew the sort of thoughts she’d been having about Guy over the past few days. Completely preposterous fairy-tale daydreams worthy of a teenage magazine.

  She looked at her clock. It was five past nine. At half past nine every Tuesday the Eversleigh team were supposed to meet to discuss the weekend ahead, after which Honor would spend the rest of the day planning menus. She pulled the duvet back over her head. She was going to go back to sleep. She could hear Ted downstairs watching telly –he’d be quite happy there for another hour.

  At nine thirty-five, the telephone rang.

  ‘Hello?’ said Honor warily.

  ‘I hope you haven’t had any ridiculous ideas about not turning up for work.’ It was Madeleine, who never felt the need to
announce who she was on the telephone.

  ‘Um… well, I didn’t really think it was… appropriate.’

  ‘It’s quite simple,’ said Madeleine crisply. ‘We can’t do without you. The whole place will fall apart. Apart from anything, you haven’t done a thing wrong. You’re the innocent party in all of this.’

  Obviously they all considered it quite unthinkable that Guy would be involved with her.

  ‘I want you here for a meeting at ten o’clock. We’ve got another big weekend ahead of us. And I know it’s half term, so bring Ted along. Malachi needs a hand draining the fishpond.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound as if I’ve got much choice.’

  ‘None whatsoever. And please don’t worry – nobody blames you for anything. We all know the bloody papers will cook up anything for a headline.’

  Honor put the phone down, slightly mollified. It was a relief to know that she hadn’t been made quite such a fool of as she thought, although there would be those who would be more than happy to believe what they read. But following Madeleine’s vote of support, she thought she could face them. And she was secretly relieved that her job was intact. She’d already got used to the idea of the money coming in on a regular basis, and now she didn’t have her contract with the craft centre she would have been really stuck without it.

  She leaped out of bed and into the shower, calling down to Ted to get himself dressed. As she pulled on her jeans, the phone rang again.

  ‘Honor?’

  It was Henty. Shit – of course she should have called Henty. What kind of friend would she think she was? She would have seen the papers yesterday.

  ‘Henty – I meant to call you.’

  ‘No mention! No mention whatsoever! We spent all night getting plastered and you didn’t squeak a word!’ Henty sounded mildly indignant rather than downright furious.

  ‘What was I supposed to say? Anyway, none of it’s true.’

 

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