Rich Tapestry

by Ashe Barker

  The next morning I find myself once more tapping on Mrs Smithson’s office door. Fifteen minutes later, I have her agreement to let me leave a week early. The volunteer agency can no doubt provide a stand-in for the last few days. All I have to do now is give a couple of weeks’ notice on my lease, send a reply to Ashley and say my goodbyes to the children.

  * * * *

  I drag my holdall from the train at Keighley station in West Yorkshire, the closest I could get by rail to my old friend’s new home, and I look around. I’m nervous, I don’t mind admitting. It’s been a while, and in fairness I didn’t know Sharon—sorry…Ashley—that well, even when she was spending most evenings at my flat.

  “Summer. Summer! Over here.” Ashley’s voice.

  I look around, and spot her at last, a small, slender figure at the top of the slope leading up to street level. She’s waving madly, and even from this distance I can see her face is split by a dazzling smile. And wow, what a transformation. The Yorkshire air has certainly been good for her. Or something has. She’s positively glowing, bobbing up and down in excited welcome. I drop my holdall to the concrete platform and wave back before extracting the pull-along handle. I start dragging my luggage up the slope, only to have the handle taken from me by a large, tanned hand.

  “Let me take care of this. For Christ’s sake, please go and give Ashley a hug before she bursts.”

  I glance up and find myself staring at one of the most attractive male faces I think I’ve ever seen. He’s tall, blond, has twinkling green eyes, and a friendly, warm smile. Could this be the guy Ashley’s marrying? As if in answer to my unspoken inquiry, he straightens and offers me his other hand, at the same time easily lifting my bag.

  “I’m Tom. Ashley’s fiancé. And you’d be Summer Jones, yes?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m Summer. Pleased to meet you.” I accept his hand, shake it briefly before my attention is again caught by Ashley, who is leaning on the barrier and yelling down at us again.

  “Tom, please stop flirting with my friend and get the bag. Summer—get up here now!”

  “When she’s in this mood, I generally find it best to do as she says. Go on. I’ve got this.” Tom winks at me and cocks his head toward Ashley.

  I take no further convincing and run up the slope, flinging myself into her arms as we come together at the top.

  “Oh, Summer. I’m so glad you came. So glad you answered my message. I thought I’d never track you down…”

  “I’m just glad you did. Glad you didn’t forget me.” Tears are coursing down my cheeks, I never expected our reunion to be quite so emotional, but I can’t seem to help myself. Am I usually so expressive? I hadn’t thought so.

  Ashley seems every bit as moved as I am, though perhaps her hormones are to blame for that. She’s clinging to me, sobbing into my shoulder. I pat her back uselessly, oblivious to the curious stares of passers-by, intent upon going about their business.

  A tactful throat clearing alongside us eventually draws our attention from each other and back to Tom Shore, waiting patiently with my holdall.

  “You two can finish this love-in in the Land Rover if you want to. Right now, you’re causing an obstruction.” His smile for me is friendly enough, but when his gaze moves to Ashley, his expression reeks of pure devotion.

  Oh yes, she’s landed on her feet big style there.

  “Yes, right. Let’s go.” Ashley links her arm through mine, and her other through Tom’s. He reaches down with his free hand to grab my bag again, and the three of us move off across the station forecourt to the parking area next door. Tom leads us over to a battered but very serviceable-looking Land Rover. He tosses my holdall in the back before helping Ashley into the central passenger seat. He offers me his hand to assist me up into the other seat, closest to the passenger door before sprinting around the front to climb into the driver’s side. In moments, we’re headed out of town, and soon the built up urban landscape gives way to the rolling hills and moorland made famous by the immortal Emily Brontë and her sisters.

  This is the first time I’ve been to this part of Yorkshire and although I’m no stranger to stunning landscapes—Cumbria has its scenic hot spots too—the vista now unfolding is truly spectacular. Ashley is chattering happily, and I’m listening to her whilst admiring the scenery. It’s obvious why she selected this area to make her base. Apart from the indisputable attractions offered by Tom Shore, it’s a lovely place to live.

  “God, you’re so lucky. This is wonderful.” I turn to her, captivated once more by her pretty, smiling face. She was always attractive, but in a far less obvious way. Physically she hasn’t altered much, still the same slight figure, slim, but she no longer seems quite so fragile. Her long black hair was always straight as rain and reaches her hips, and she wears it off her face. But the severe plait she always wore in the past is now replaced with a much softer look, loose tendrils framing her neat features.

  “I am lucky. I know. Thanks to Tom.”

  He slants her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road ahead. “We make our own luck, sweetheart. And you’ve worked hard to get where you have. I reckon we both got lucky. What about you, Summer? Ashley tells me you were in Bristol when she tracked you down. Are you still working at the library there?”

  It sounds as though Ashley has told him all about her previous life. I’m relieved. I hadn’t been looking forward to walking on eggshells in case I gave away some secret she’d preferred to leave in the past. But if that was important to her, surely Ashley wouldn’t have been so desperate to drag me into her present. I decide to play it straight.

  “No, not the library anymore. In fact, I moved from Bristol soon after Ashley left. I’m actually from Barrow, in Cumbria, and I went back there for a while. I only returned to Bristol temporarily, a few weeks ago. I’m on my way to Cumbria now, but when I got Ashley’s invitation, I decided to do a detour here first.”

  “I’m so glad you did. I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. My side of the church was going to be almost deserted tomorrow.” Ashley is grinning broadly, her head swiveling between me and her beloved Tom.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Tom’s low chuckle is sexy and indulgent. “Nathan and Eva and their brood would have sat on your side, and the Appleyards too, if we asked them to. Not that any of that stuff matters in any case. And it’s not a church—it’s a barn. Our barn.”

  Nathan? Eva? Appleyards? I save those questions for later, homing in on the one thing that leaped out of Tom’s comment. “A barn! You’re getting married in a barn?” I can’t keep the astonishment from my tone. A barn!

  “Yes. A barn.” Tom grins across at me as he maneuvers the Land Rover around a steep bend and drops down through the gears to climb a sharp incline. “We’re thinking of diversifying into the wedding venue business. Well, Ashley is, and she wanted to try out her ideas on our own wedding first. Sort of a dummy run.”

  “Wedding venue? I thought you were into photography.” I’m feeling somewhat bemused. I don’t recall Sharon Spencer ever showing such entrepreneurial spirit or such a versatile approach—unless perhaps she’s thinking about adding wedding photography to her repertoire?

  Ashley smiles serenely. “Yes. I’m a photographer first, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try other things too.”

  “As long as you don’t take on too much. Not just at the moment.” This from Tom, his narrow gaze more serious now.

  I get the impression he worries about her, and he hasn’t struck me as the fussy type. Is there cause for concern?

  “I had a miscarriage. Back in Bristol, before I met you. Do you remember? I might have mentioned it. Anyway, Tom tends to be over protective…”

  Ah, right. That explains Tom’s anxiety.

  I do recall Sharon recently lost a baby. “Yes, I see. And I do remember. Of course.”

  “I think what you mean is that Tom tends to want to take care of you—and our baby. Make sure nothing goes wrong this time.” Tom’s voice is
low, even, but there’s more besides.

  I’m not entirely sure, couldn’t swear to it, but his tone seems to harden. Just very slightly. But enough that Ashley catches the slight shift in nuance and responds.

  “Yes, right. Of course. That is what I mean. And I appreciate it. Really I do.” She turns to him and rubs her cheek affectionately against his sleeve, earning herself a brief kiss to the top of her head.

  This couple certainly love each other, but there’s a hint of…something else. I’m not sure. Something vaguely familiar, though I can’t place it.

  “Is it to be a large wedding then?” I try to lighten the mood with what passes for small talk. Not my forte, but I do like to make an effort.

  “No, just friends and family. They’re mostly Tom’s friends and family, though.”

  “And yours now. And what about your dad? And two sisters?” Tom keeps his eye on the road as he reminds her of the guest list.

  Sisters? I don’t recall mention of any family in the past.

  “I have two sisters. Can you imagine that?” Ashley must have caught my puzzled expression because she’s quick to fill in the gaps.

  Well yes, actually, I can. I miss my sisters.

  Ashley rushes on. “And a father. They live in Turkey. They’re Turkish. So am I. Well, half-Turkish. I only met them a few weeks ago, but they’re over here and staying for the wedding. My dad’s giving me away.”

  Wow. Things have been changing fast. A new husband, a baby on the way, a father and two sisters. Ashley McAllister doesn’t do things by halves.

  “I see.” I’m not entirely sure I do, but it seems like the right thing to say.

  The rest of the journey passes without further revelations. I gather we’re not headed for the farm where Ashley and Tom actually live, but rather for a place called Black Combe, the home of their friends, Eva and Nathan. They who, along with me and ‘the Appleyards’, will be swelling the ranks on Ashley’s side of the barn. The wedding is to take place tomorrow, and this evening is to be Ashley’s hen night and Tom’s stag party. The ladies are commandeering Eva and Nathan’s home for the night’s merry-making while the men will all be banished to the farm, which I now know is called Greystones. Tom was pressed into service, driving Ashley down to Keighley to meet me. Now he intends to drop us at Black Combe then make himself scarce.

  Maybe half an hour after I alighted from the train in Keighley, Tom turns the Land Rover up a single track lane. He follows the narrow road for about a mile, finally coming to a stop in front of a large metal gate barring the way. He winds down the window and leans out to tap a code into a keypad mounted on a post. Seconds later, the huge barrier starts to glide slowly and evenly aside. As the gate opens fully, Tom drives through, following the graveled track around a tree-lined bend.

  The house comes into sight and a very imposing affair it is too. It’s a barn conversion, but with bells on. A barn, several cottages and other outbuildings have been crafted together, imaginatively linked by glass and dressed stone to create a tasteful, spacious country home. I’d estimate at least eight bedrooms, though it’s impossible to be sure at first glance. The front door is open, and as we drive up to park in front of it, a huge brown and black shaggy dog ambles out. He stands at the top of the three large stone steps, eying us calmly.

  “Your welcoming committee, ladies. The only male allowed across the doors this evening.” Tom laughs as he climbs out, clicking cheerily to our four-legged escort, who makes no attempt to approach the Land Rover. Tom walks around to help me and Ashley out of the passenger side. He reaches into the back for my bag and carries it up the steps. By now, our reception line has swelled to three. A tall, dark-haired man and a small girl, aged around nine or ten I’d say, have materialized next to the dog.

  “True. Except for baby Michael Junior. He’s only a few months old and is here with his mum. Abbie’s another friend of mine.”

  “Sounds like your side of the barn could get pretty crowded.” I can’t help offering the observation.

  Ashley shrugs. “You can never have too many friends, if you ask me. Where are you two going?” The last question is directed at the small girl, who is heading off across the gravel, the monster of a dog at her heels.

  “Just out. For a walk. Barney wants to go rabbiting.”

  “Back before dark, Rosie.” The dark-haired man calls to her as she skips off, buttoning up her jacket as she goes. He turns to us, his hand extended to me. “I’m Nathan Darke, Tom’s friend and best man for tomorrow’s proceedings. You must be Summer.”

  I take his hand and shake. “Yes, Summer Jones.”

  “Nice to meet you, Summer. Welcome to Black Combe. Did Ashley mention that you’ll be staying here tonight? Probably a bit crowded, but I’m sure you’ll find somewhere. Eva’s in charge of all that.” He turns to Ashley. “She’s inside, by the way. You ladies have taken over our lounge already.”

  “Oh, right. Let’s go and join in then. No show without Punch and all that.” She smiles sweetly at Nathan. “Please try to keep Tom out of trouble tonight. I don’t want him turning up with a hangover tomorrow or worse still, not turning up at all because he’s been shipped off to Amsterdam or something.”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be there. Even if I have to carry him.” Nathan slips an arm across Ashley’s shoulders and squeezes her. “Looking forward to the Big Day?”

  She smiles up at him. “Yes. No. To be honest, I’m looking forward to it all being over then we can get back to normal. This wedding thing was Tom’s idea, not mine. And my dad’s.”

  “Ah yes, men of strong traditional values, both of them. Still, it’s a good excuse for a party.”

  Ashley shakes her head at that. “Not that you two need much of an excuse to crack open the beers. Talking of which”—she turns to me—“I’m off the booze for the next few months, but I’m sure we can find you something nice to drink. Shall we go in and join the party?”

  I don’t need any further encouragement, and we start up the steps. Nathan takes my bag from Tom.

  “I’ll find somewhere for that. You’re not allowed in, my friend. Tradition and all that…” Nathan grins at Tom as he bars his way.

  Tom chuckles. “Right, I’m off.” He follows us and catches up, slipping an arm around Ashley. “I need a kiss, to see me through until tomorrow.”

  Ashley apparently has no objection to that, and reaches up to loop her arms around his neck. He leans in, place his mouth over hers. Seconds later, the kiss deepens.

  Nathan and I share a wry smile as he carries my bag inside. “Please don’t you two be making an exhibition of yourselves on my doorstep. Save it for tomorrow.”

  Tom breaks the kiss, nuzzles Ashley’s nose with his. “Till tomorrow, sweetheart. Enjoy your party.” He turns to Nathan. “Do you need a ride over to the farm?”

  “No. Nick’s not arrived yet so I’m going to wait for him and we’ll come over together. Eva says I can stay here for a while longer, but I’m banished to the kitchen. I daresay Dan’d like a lift, though.”

  Tom sprints across the gravel and gets back into the Land Rover just as a third man appears in the doorway, directly ahead of me. I plaster another polite smile of greeting on my face, a smile which dies instantly as I look up and see who has just emerged from Nathan Darke’s lovely house.

  Dan. Daniel Riche.

  Chapter Ten

  What the…?

  “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” I blurt out the first thing that comes into my head, glaring at Daniel as I back away.

  His answering smile is a mix of surprise and wicked promise. It’s possible I’m imagining the last, but although I get the impression my sudden appearance is as much a mystery to him as his is to me, he certainly doesn’t seem averse to seeing me here. A sentiment not reciprocated.

  “Find you? I wasn’t looking for you, Summer, though it is delightful to see you again. How have you been?” His tone is low, amused even.

  He makes no move to follo
w me as I step slowly away from him. How have I been? How have I been? I’ve been fucking going out of my head, that’s how I’ve been. He messed me up with his spanking and kissing and orgasms and that bloody Jacuzzi, and topped it all off by refusing to finish the job properly. Messed me up so much, so demoralized me, so wrecked my confidence that I’ve even been reduced to faking climaxes in a desperate attempt to appear ‘normal’. A pathetic ruse just so that I might be acceptable to a nice, safe, boring man. All because of him. Because of Daniel Riche.

  How have I been indeed! I’m dimly aware of the confused hush among the group clustered around the doorway, a crowd that seems to be swelling with the arrival of another small, red-haired woman, and an older lady. I ignore them all, my glare riveted on Daniel Riche. My nemesis. And, without warning, I lose it. Totally, completely lose it. My anger, I suppose, is more at myself than at him but even so, Dan gets the full brunt of it as I fly at him.

  “You bastard!” Those are the only words I manage to get out before my palm connects with his cheek.

  The resounding crack reverberates around, there’s a stunned silence as five pairs of eyes are transfixed. No one moves. Except for me. The floodgates on my pent-up fury and self-loathing have been opened and he’s getting all of it. I fling myself at him, my fists flying as I pummel his chest. I might as well have been laying into Nathan Darke’s eighteen-inch thick solid stone walls for all the impact I’m making. Dan doesn’t even step back under the onslaught, just hesitates a moment before he closes his arms around me, effectively pinning me to his chest.

  “Whoa, Summer, what’s all this about?” His words are murmured into my ear, his breath feathering across my cheek.

  “Let go of me, you bastard.” I start to fight again, desperate to get my arms free and resume my assault. He’s having none of it.

  “You’ve landed all the punches you’re going to. Stop this now.” He’s started to adopt that tone, but I’m determined not to be drawn in again. He has no power over me, no authority. I won’t allow it, don’t accept it.