When had her happy marriage become a sham? She’d always thought Simon so perfect, now she was hard pushed to even try and recall why she’d fallen for him in the first place. Had she ever been in love with the real Simon, or had she imagined he’d possessed those qualities she thought she saw in him? Mel had once accused her of marrying Simon so quickly because she was too desperate to create the happy family she’d been excluded from when her mum had died when she was four. She’d laughed at Mel then, but maybe, Bea mused, her half-sister had actually been right.
She blew her nose on a crumpled tissue and went back into the house. Though it was early, she opened a bottle of rosé and lit a fire, then sat back into the huge overstuffed sofa in the darkness of the drawing room with only Flea and a box of tissues for comfort. The soothing golden glow of the fire for once did nothing to improve her mood. She started on her way to get hideously drunk. She was in love with a completely unsuitable man who could end up causing her to lose her job and if she wasn’t extremely careful, her freedom, too. What the hell was she playing at, and why was everything so complicated?
Bea went to pour herself another glass and finding the bottle empty, decided to get another from the fridge. The lights in the house flicked once and then went off completely. Bea carefully made her way in the darkness to the window. She looked out, but couldn’t see any other lights nearby. “Bloody power cuts,” she said, sick of the occasional lack of power the island was experiencing lately.
Turning too quickly, she caught her temple on a corner of an open cupboard door she must have forgotten to close properly earlier. Bea winced in pain. Tentatively, she put her fingers up to her head to rub it better, but instead felt the warm stickiness of blood. “Hell, that hurts,” she moaned. Stunned and a little wobbly, she quickly padded in her slippers over to the sink to soak a wedge of kitchen roll in cool water.
Bea held the wet mass up to her head. She returned to the drawing room, thankful for the screw cap on the bottle of wine, and poured some into a glass. Her head was pounding. Maybe it was time to go to bed. No more melancholy for her. Enough now. She got up slowly, surprised at how dizzy she felt.
The phone rang on the table next to her. “Hello?”
“Bea? Is that you?”
“Who is this?” she asked, cupping the phone in between her ear and chin. Hearing Luke’s voice, she settled back down onto the couch.
“It’s Luke. I wanted to phone and thank you for getting me to the boat in time for the launch the other day. I think I could have been a little snappy with you and I wanted to apologise in case I had been.” He was silent for a moment. “Bea, are you all right?”
Why had she answered the phone, she wondered. She knew she was in no state to talk to anyone about anything, especially him. She’d had too much to drink to allow herself to talk to him without saying the wrong thing.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Bea wiped away a random tear from her puffy eyes with a handful of damp, disintegrating tissues. “’Night,” she put the phone down. She would sleep in here tonight. It was cosy and the fire should keep going for the next few hours.
Sometime later she became vaguely aware of a banging noise. Bea dragged a fresh tissue from the near empty box and blew her nose. Flea barked and ran to the front door. The banging was repeated. She pushed the blanket off and ambled blearily over to follow the dog, opening the door tentatively and peering around it to see who was making all the noise. Her eyes focused on Luke staring back at her, his face unsmiling. She pulled back the heavy door. “What’s the matter?” she asked blearily, her voice sounding odd even in her drunken state.
****
Luke couldn’t believe his eyes. The moon shone into the doorway lighting up someone standing with one hand on the door and the other holding what looked like a mass of tissues with drying blood down the side of her face. The person vaguely resembled Bea. Only this person had a pale face, eyes so puffy they were almost closed, and hair that had once been held back in a band that was now sticking up at angles and mussed up all around her blotchy face.
“Luke, can this wait until tomorrow?” Bea asked, pushing her hands through her untidy hair and beginning to push the door closed. She stepped back from the door and turned away from him.
Luke couldn’t imagine what could have happened to her. Dread filtered through the pit of his stomach. He put his hand out and caught the door before it slammed shut and followed her silently inside. There were no lights on in the house and the only light seemed to come from the full moon outside. Without saying a word he followed her, sitting down opposite as she settled back down and made herself comfortable again. She seemed unaware that he was still in the room.
“Bea,” he said, keeping his voice as gently as he could and glad of the light from the flames in the fireplace. “How did you hurt your head?”
He watched as she slowly raised her hand and lightly touched the cut. “Ouch,” she said, flinching, her gaze troubled. “I think it was on a cupboard door. Stupid really.”
Luke forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
Bea looked up at him. He felt a pang of sadness at the pain in her eyes. Something had happened between her dropping him off at the Lifeboat Station and now. He couldn’t imagine what it was. “Is it Simon?” he asked, his intuition kicking in.
She thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. “I’m such an idiot,” she murmured sleepily, touching her head once more.
“Of course you’re not,” he soothed, not sure if she was telling him the truth. “We can talk about this in the morning.” Gently pulling her hand away from her head, he leant forward and checked her cut. It was difficult to see it clearly, but he didn’t think it was still bleeding.
“I don’t think it’s that deep, but we can get it looked at properly tomorrow. Why don’t you get some sleep now?” Amazed at her complying so readily with his suggestion, he watched her lie back and close her eyes. He pulled a chenille blanket from the back of the settee to cover her and sat back down, watching her silently, the flickering shadows from the fire taking him back to that memorable evening they’d slept together.
He added several logs to boost the fire and tried to make sense of his feelings for her. He knew he was attracted to her, wanted to take care of her somehow, but she seemed to have more than enough to deal with at the moment. How attached was she to Tom? Damn him. It was one thing knowing Tom was good at his job, but another having to watch him spend time with Bea. Luke shook his head. How did Tom manage to get so close to her, when all she seemed to do with him was find reasons to push him away? Why was she holding back from him? He was sure there was something, but what? He didn’t get it. She couldn’t really believe there was something between him and Leilani, surely? He was sure that must be some sort of excuse.
While preparing coffees in the kitchen the next morning, Luke answered the phone hanging on the wall by the fridge on its first ring. “Hello?” he said absent-mindedly, stirring sugar into the steaming black liquid.
“Who’s that?”
“Who’s this?”
“I asked first, oh sod it, it’s Shani.”
“Luke,” he volunteered, trying not to sound too amused at her obvious surprise.
Silence. “Er, morning, Luke. Um, is the lady of the house there please?” Shani asked, excitement emanating from her voice. He suspected she was thinking he and Bea must have slept together to find him here so early in the morning.
Luke placed the coffees and two plates of buttered toast on a tray. “She is, but she’s a little caught up at the moment. Can I ask her to give you a call when she comes round?”
“Comes round? Is she okay?”
Damn, thought Luke. Why had he chosen those particular words? He thought for a moment and remembering what close friends the two women were, knew he had to fill her in on the previous evening. “Shani, she’s not all right as it happens.”
“What do you mean?” Luke could hear the conc
ern in her voice.
“I phoned her last night to thank her for the lift to the call out, but she didn’t seem to be her usual self. So, I came round here and although she wasn’t particularly happy to see me, I couldn’t in all conscience leave her.”
“You’ve been there all night?”
“Yes, but it’s not what you’re probably thinking I’m about to wake her now.”
“Do you know what’s wrong?”
He would love to, he thought, but didn’t say so. “’Fraid not. She does have a nasty cut to her temple though, and will no doubt have one hell of a headache this morning. I don’t envy her.” He hoped he hadn’t said too much, but felt pretty sure Shani needed to know exactly what happened in case Bea tried to make light of everything. She needed help sorting whatever it was out, and her best friend was the perfect person to do so.
“She’s got rather a lot on her plate at the moment, and to be honest I haven’t helped.” Shani groaned. “Unfortunately none of her problems are things anyone else can help with, only she can deal with them. Simon is so controlling, and she’s going to have to find a way to sort him out once and for all. Although I’ve got a niggling feeling there’s something else wrong, but she hasn’t confided in me about it. Look, I’m going to ring off now, so I can come right over.”
“Thanks,” he said, relieved Shani was on her way. He knew Bea wouldn’t be happy to see him here when she woke up. Hell, he thought, he’d be horrified to come round after a heavy night to find her sitting watching him. He couldn’t help having feelings for Bea and had suspected from the first time he met her she could be different to any other woman he’d ever known before now. Up until now, though she’d always seemed so strong and in charge of everything, but seeing her in such a state last night had concerned him. Seeing Bea so fragile, he wondered what could be worrying her so badly. He knew she loved the house and was worried about losing it, but he had to agree with Shani, there must be more to it than anything they were aware of, but what?
Shani arrived and thanked Luke for sitting with Bea for the night. “Let me know how she is, will you?” he asked, making a quick note of his mobile number for her on the notepad by the door.
“Will do,” said Shani, concern for her friend written all over her face.
As he opened the front door, she called to him. “Luke?”
“Yes?”
“How will you explain to your girlfriend where you’ve been all night?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Then again, he thought, aware that Leilani had a habit of pitching up at his boat on odd occasions and usually when he least wanted to see her. She was going to be impossible and surely throw a tantrum over him staying out all night, especially when she discovered that he was at Bea’s, which she no doubt would.
****
Bea heard the front door close and stretched. She recognised Shani’s voice and watched through blurry eyes as her friend entered the room. “Ooh, my head,” Bea groaned, pushing herself up slowly, holding the side of her head with one hand. “Hey, how did you get in?”
Shani stared at her thoughtfully. “Luke let me in.”
Bea frowned and tried to process Shani’s words. “Luke? Here? I don’t understand. Ouch.”
“He told me he’d found you in a really bad way and didn’t like to leave you alone.”
Realisation dawned on Bea like a slowly dripping tap. “Oh no, I think I vaguely remember.” She looked up at Shani, another movement that hurt like hell. “Even my eyes hurt.”
“I know, and you look a mess,” said Shani, holding out a mug for her to take. “Drink your coffee, then you can freshen up. You’ll feel much better then.”
Bea, not having the emotional or physical strength to argue, let Shani take charge. Catching sight of her puffy pale face, swollen eyes and cut temple, with the angry purple and black bruising glaring back at her in the ornate mirror on the wall, she groaned in anguish that anyone, let alone Luke, had seen her in such an awful state.
After luxuriating in a hot lavender bath, Bea took a couple of painkillers. She was feeling a little better. Shani wanted her to make an appointment with a doctor to ensure her head didn’t need a couple of stitches, but Bea insisted it wasn’t necessary. Instead, she suggested they make the most of the colder weather and go out for some fresh air. They walked along the paths in between the World War Two gun placements and bunkers at Noirmont Point and watched Flea sniffing intently for rabbits.
“Is it because of the baby?” Shani asked eventually. Bea shook her head. “What’s really the matter, then? I’m sure you’re keeping something from me and it’s making me nervous.”
Bea once again wondered how much easier it would have been if Tom hadn’t confided in her about Luke’s problems with the police and his money laundering suspicious.
“You can tell me anything, you know that, don’t you?” Shani said.
Bea felt guilty and nodded. She needed to somehow explain things to Shani without breaking the confidentiality code she had to live by as a Trust Officer. She spent her working life looking after others’ trusts and companies and it went against her principles to discuss business when she shouldn’t.
“Bea?”
Bea chewed her lower lip. “Shani, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but I’m not allowed.”
“So, it’s not about the baby? I know that must be hard for you to take in.” Bea shook her head again. “Who’s it to do with?”
“I can’t tell you that either, sorry. It’s nothing for you to worry about, though. It’s more to do with work.”
“Tom.” Shani pulled a face. “I might have guessed.”
“Sorry?” Bea pulled on Flea’s lead when he walked too close to the deep steps of a bunker. Why was Shani always so intuitive? “Why do you mention Tom?”
Shani stopped walking and stared at her, hands on her hips. “I knew he would have something to do with it.”
Bea stood and shrugged. “It’s difficult and Tom hasn’t actually done anything wrong.”
“So, tell me. You work for the same company and he is your manager, after all. “
“He knows something that he felt I should be told, that’s all,” Bea eventually confided, reining in Flea’s lead to get him back to the pathway once more and out of the bracken.
Shani stared at her, a confused expression on her face. “This has something to do with Luke, I presume?”
Bea gasped. “You don’t know anything of the sort. I’ve told you I can’t discuss this and I really am not allowed to.”
“Okay, so how come he can tell you then? I don’t get it.”
“He told me to make sure I didn’t inadvertently get myself into a difficult situation.”
“With Luke.”
Bea rolled her eyes. “Will you forget about Luke, for pity’s sake? I can’t tell you anything else.”
Shani shrugged and began walking again. “All I know is that something is playing on your mind and I don’t like it.”
Bea hugged Shani. “Neither do I, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Shani stroked her rounded stomach. She stopped and took Bea by the arm. “It’ll all work out, just hang in there.”
“I hope you’re right.” If it doesn’t, she was just going to have to deal with it.
Shani pushed her chin deeper into her red woollen scarf. “I wonder if Luke’s boat is one of those out there?” She pointed, changing the subject. “Mind you, it does look a little rough today.”
“I doubt it. He’s moored at St Catherines over the other side of the island. I suppose living on his boat while he does up his cottage is an obvious place for someone who loves the sea like he seems to.” She inwardly cringed at the thought of him spending all night watching her sleep. What had she said to him? God, her head was still pounding. “Anyway, I have more pressing matters to worry about. I need to sort out this money for Simon.”
Shani groaned. “If only you could discover what this Jersey Kiss thing is and m
aybe you could sell it. If she your aunt left it to you in her will then it must be worth something.”
“I know,” Bea said, shivering and doing up her ancient Burberry mac. “But I’ve looked everywhere for it. There isn’t any paperwork that I can find no paintings that look valuable and certainly no jewellery. If I don’t find a way out of this financial mess, I’m going to have to seriously consider selling The Brae, and I can’t bear the thought of losing everything Aunt Annabel worked so hard to achieve. I’d feel as if I’d let her down badly, not to mention you and the baby.”
“I know you would, but you shouldn’t. We need to discuss my rent.”
Bea shivered.
“Bea,” Shani said. “I know it’s sometimes awkward to talk about these things, so I’ve contacted a rental agency and explained my situation. They suggested I pay you about one hundred pounds per week. Do you think that’s enough?”
That sounded fine. She needed to find approximately one thousand, four hundred pounds each month. Shani wasn’t an owner of the gym, simply one of the supervisors and Bea didn’t want her to worry about finances. “Are you sure it isn’t too much for you?”
“No. I’m happy, as long as you are with that amount.”
Flea barked.
Bea smiled. “That’s great. I can let Mr Peter’s know when I meet with him tomorrow.” Bea picked up Flea’s ball and threw it for him, smiling as he bounded off like a fluffy breezeblock after it. It had been much quicker working this out with Shani than she’d expected. Then again, Shani never liked to waste time messing about, so she shouldn’t be too surprised by the short and decisive conversation.
I wish I could afford to help you out more,” Shani said, wrapping her scarf another time round her neck. “Why is it so bloody cold, it’s March for heaven’s sake! “I’m sick of this weather too.”
“What time is your appointment with the bank manager?”
Bea groaned. “Nine o’clock. It’s the third time he’s seen me and the poor man keeps trying to find ways to help because of my aunt, but we’re not getting very far. He can only do what he’s allowed to do and I suppose I’ll be able to find out exactly what that will be when I see him tomorrow.”’
A Jersey Kiss (Jersey Romance Series) Page 22
