Now or Never

by Penny Jordan

  Upset Nicki! What about Maggie? Didn’t she deserve not to be upset? How could they be so absorbed in their own lives, and so selfishly oblivious to Maggie’s longing to be a mother?

  Maggie had never told them the truth about her marriage to Dan as she had him, Oliver reminded himself.

  ‘Oliver?’

  He looked up as Kath, their office administrator, knocked briefly on his half-open door and walked in.

  ‘There’s someone outside asking to see Maggie. She hasn’t got an appointment. She said she was hoping she could have a chat about a proposition she wants to put to her.’

  ‘I’ll have a word with her,’ Oliver told her. ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘She’s in the outer office going through one of Maggie’s albums.’

  Oliver smiled. Maggie had kept photograph albums of all projects, and there were copies in their reception area for visitors to look at.

  At Oliver’s own instigation, a more modern visual treatment incorporating small details from a variety of projects had been turned into a series of stunningly arty wall displays, and Maggie had enthused excitedly over what he had done.

  As he walked into the reception area the woman was standing with her back to him studying one of his displays.

  ‘These are good,’ she said as she turned to smile at him. ‘Your work?’

  ‘Yes,’ Oliver confirmed. ‘I’m Oliver Sanders, by the way, and you are…?’

  ‘Yes, I thought you must be.’ She beamed. ‘I’ve learned such a lot about Maggie that I feel I know her already. She began the business after her marriage broke down, didn’t she? I really admire her for that. And you’re the arty one. You look as though you would be. I’ve been told that I’m rather arty myself.’ Her smile faltered. ‘Unfortunately, though, I haven’t been able to develop that side of my nature as much as I would have liked. Necessity has meant that I’ve had to take on a rather more mundane type of work. We aren’t all as lucky as Maggie. And she has been lucky, hasn’t she? She says as much herself, I know. Even more lucky, now that she has met you!’

  Although she was still smiling, her voice had developed a slightly sharp undertone, and Oliver wondered when she was going to get to the point of her visit. He might have promised Maggie that he wouldn’t do anything about that letter, but he was far from convinced that he ought to have given in to her. The police should be informed. What if there were more? What if…?

  ‘Of course, I know that Maggie’s services don’t come cheaply. They wouldn’t, would they? And my little venture will probably be much smaller than she’s used to. Rather beneath her notice, I suppose, really.’ The woman gave a sigh. ‘It must be wonderful to be as successful as Maggie is. To be able to afford to have anything you want. To buy anything you want.’

  Oliver focused on her. The woman really was a little bit odd. Not that she looked it particularly. She was too nervy for his taste, moving edgily around the reception area, picking things up and putting them down again, her eyebrows drawn together in a dissatisfied frown that matched the tone of her voice.

  ‘It’s a pity that Maggie isn’t here,’ she was adding. ‘It was her I wanted to see, really. Where is she?’

  ‘She’s actually out seeing a client, I’m afraid,’ Oliver told her, untruthfully. He had met her type before, and experience told him that she was all too likely to demand that Maggie come into the office to see her if she knew that she was at home.

  ‘If you’d like to leave your name and address, I can get her to get in touch with you,’ he offered.

  ‘Yes, I suppose I should do that,’ she agreed, her voice suddenly vague. ‘Only, you see, I was hoping that I could see her today. I thought that she would be here.’

  Oliver had had enough.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but she isn’t,’ he told her shortly.

  He knew that Maggie was the one who had started the business and that she was the one who people tended to associate with it. Normally it didn’t bother him in the least when people insisted that it was her they wanted to deal with, but for some reason this woman was really getting under his skin.

  Because he was still worrying about that letter?

  Perhaps if he just went round to see Nicki himself…He had, after all, only agreed not to contact the police, and in his view Nicki needed to be made aware of the criminality of what she was doing—instead of being shielded by Maggie out of loyalty, and potentially to her own detriment. So far as he was concerned, Maggie needed to be protected, whether she was prepared to acknowledge as much herself or not!

  The woman was leaving, much to Oliver’s relief.

  The office door opened and Kath walked in.

  ‘I’ve got to go out,’ Oliver told her, coming to a decision. ‘I’m not sure how long I’m going to be. If Maggie rings, tell her…Tell her…Tell her I love her!’ he told Kath gruffly.

  12

  Although she had the selling agent’s details on the car seat next to her, Maggie didn’t make any attempt to read them—she didn’t need to, and anyway she hadn’t come here to look round the house.

  This wasn’t somewhere she would want to live with Oliver and their baby. No, for them she wanted something like Alice’s home, a sturdy 1930s architecturally designed house with a large garden and some land—there were several of them in the area.

  No, she hadn’t come here to Draycotte Manor to view it as a potential buy. So why had she come?

  Swinging her legs out of the car, she stood up and took a deep lungful of air.

  Somehow the air here at Draycotte always tasted different. The house was built on a small and indiscernible hill, which raised it slightly higher than the surrounding land. It also had clear views to the distant hills, and three fields away an ancient river meandered lazily through its equally ancient water meadows. Perhaps it was these things that gave its air its unique taste!

  Of old, soft-focused dreams and tender, cherished hopes? Of a wistfulness and the now gentle ghost of a pain once so sharp that she had hardly been able to bear it?

  But that had been then…this was now.

  As she headed for the small summer house in the garden, which had always been one of her favourite spots, the sun glinted on the warm richness of her hair, the breeze tousling her curls. She lifted her hand automatically to push them away, and that was when Dan saw her, rounding the corner of the stables he had been inspecting. He came to an abrupt halt, whilst his heart hammered against his ribs as though he were still a hormone-driven schoolboy, and his mouth went dry with eagerness and apprehension.

  Maggie! Even though she was standing half turned away from him, he knew immediately it was her. The different hairstyle, the unfamiliar clothes, even the fact that his wedding ring no longer showed a soft gold band on her finger made no difference. He would have known her in a hundred other women, a thousand.

  He closed his eyes in a reluctant salute to his own senses and waited for the world to stop rocking beneath his feet.

  He waited for her to turn round and look at him, to sense him. To come running towards him, her curls flying, her arms outstretched, her eyes alight with love and happiness.

  He could see the arch of her eyebrow, the hollow of her eye socket, those ridiculously long lashes she had always had, the rounded curve of her cheekbone and the tender line of her jaw. There was something about her that would always and for ever give her that certain special youthfulness. Even in old age she would still possess it, and she was far from close to old age now.

  To Dan, familiar with the nipped and tucked faces and bodies of New York women who fought time with the same aggressive, single-minded determination with which they fought everything else, including any other woman foolhardy enough to try to take their man, Maggie’s face had a genuine youthfulness about it that caught at his heart.

  This was their place, the place where they had laughed, lived and loved. And the place where they had cried. He could almost feel those emotions surrounding him now.

  Maggie! Her n
ame filled his heart. Flooded it.

  Maggie stopped in mid-step, suddenly unsure about whether she actually wanted to be here. The sun was still shining, the air was still warm, but somehow she felt as though the weight of her past sadness were actually chilling the air.

  She had brought Nicki here once, when she had been trying to persuade her that she was strong enough to leave Carl. She had told her that this was a special place, a place that would give her courage and make her feel empowered, but Nicki had shaken her head and laughed, denying that she could feel the essence of the place in the same way that Maggie did.

  Nicki! Instinctively Maggie placed her hand protectively against her still-flat stomach.

  The sun had gone behind a cloud, the wind abruptly developing a sharp bite. Shivering a little, Maggie told herself that she was stupid for having come here.

  She had a relaxation and yoga class for pregnant women to attend, she reminded herself.

  And Nicki?

  She would talk to her, she promised herself, but not today. Not yet.

  Dan held his breath as Maggie turned round. All she had to do to see him was to look towards the stables. All he had to do to talk to her was to call her name.

  Some places, some things were best not revisited, Maggie acknowledged as she got back into her car and started the engine.

  Bleakly Dan watched her as she drove away.

  He shouldn’t have come here, and he didn’t really know why he had!

  Nicki stared at the clock on the wall. Was it really nearly three o’clock?

  A little uncertainly, she looked at her desk. What had she done all day? Where had the time gone?

  It was almost time for her to pick Joey up from school, but first she had to go into town to post a parcel. Her heart was still beating heavily and somehow out of rhythm, so that each heavy thud increased her sense of nausea and disorientation.

  Upstairs she splashed cold water on her face and then stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Frighteningly, there was nothing there that she felt she could recognise; no sign of the woman whom Kit had claimed that he loved! Nicki could feel her anxiety levels cranking up and tightening.

  Her tee shirt looked slightly grubby and she studied it critically, somehow distanced from and unconnected to the angry feeling of contempt her refusal to change it was causing her. In fact, oddly, there was almost a feeling of grim satisfaction in her own scruffiness, her own lowering of her strictly adhered-to standards. What did it matter if she didn’t change it? Who cared how she looked? Who even noticed? Certainly not Kit. No, he was far too busy thinking about his precious Laura!

  Oliver turned into the road that led to Kit and Nicki’s house. All the way over from the office he had been rehearsing what he would say; how he could best deal with the situation and let Nicki know how dangerous what she had done was! How could she call herself Maggie’s friend and send a letter like that? Why had she done it? He would be perfectly justified in going to the police, and he intended to tell Nicki as much, and Kit too, if he was there. Nicki needed to be made to understand that, unlike Maggie, he was not prepared to protect and shield her. No, the person his protection was for was Maggie herself, and of course their unborn child.

  Oliver was the first to admit that he owed it to Maggie to recognise not just the strength of the bond the four women shared, but also her right to make her own decisions. But he had decisions that needed to be made as well, objectives, agendas; and right at the top of them was Maggie. If she could not protect herself, then he was damn well going to make sure that he did.

  He had no idea what spite, what malice, what sheer cruelty was motivating Nicki, and right now he didn’t care! Not about her, not about her problems, not about the friendship she was so obviously trading on. All he cared about was Maggie, and he intended to let Nicki know that if she so much as dared to give Maggie even a look that suggested that she was not overjoyed for her, then he, Oliver, would know about it and he would have no compunction whatsoever in taking both her letter and his own suspicions to the police! Which was, after all, what he ought to be doing right now anyway!

  And yet…and yet…Abruptly Oliver brought his car to a halt several houses away from Kit and Nicki’s.

  Maggie had asked him for a promise and he had given it to her. What was a relationship worth if it was not based on trust, on the belief that the other person would keep their word once given? Maggie trusted him. She trusted him to keep his promise to her, not to do anything about the letter or his suspicions.

  Yes. She trusted him. She trusted him to protect her and their unborn child, he argued passionately with himself. And he would be ignoring that trust if he did not speak with Nicki!

  But if he went behind her back…

  It would be for her own good…to protect her…

  To protect her from the pain of receiving another vile letter, but how could he protect her from the pain of knowing that she could not trust him?

  Sombrely Oliver put the car in reverse.

  He had almost turned round when his mobile rang. Completing the manoeuvre, he switched off the car engine and answered the call.

  ‘Oliver, where are you?’

  Just the sound of Maggie’s voice was enough to lift his heart.

  ‘In the car. Why?’

  ‘I was wondering if you could get home early?’ Maggie responded.

  ‘Why, what is it? Is something wrong?’ Immediately he felt concerned—anxious, cursing his own folly in not going ahead and seeing Nicki.

  On the other end of the line Maggie forced herself to smile. She had spent enough time worrying and agonising. She owed it to Oliver and to the baby to concentrate her time, her energy, her love on them. After all, she reflected a little bitterly, no one else seemed to want them, or her—certainly not the friends who suddenly seemed so frighteningly remote and distant.

  This afternoon at Draycotte Manor, she had felt as though she had undergone a small death, and she had left with a sense of loss and of loneliness. But driving away she had reminded herself firmly that she had a new life to nurture, and that she had Oliver’s love to help her do so. She knew that a part of her would always mourn the friendship she felt she had lost, without knowing how or why she had lost it.

  Taking a deep breath, she told Oliver, ‘No, everything is fine. More than fine. In fact, it’s so fine that I think that tonight we should celebrate! After we’ve gone and got totally blissed out on nursery shopping. Do you realise that we are running out of time to get this baby, our baby supplied with a new home?’ Maggie paused and then, determined to be upbeat, continued brightly, ‘I’ve been thinking. What we could really do with is a house something like Alice and Stuart’s. What do you think?’

  ‘It’s a great house,’ Oliver confirmed, too relieved to hear the happiness and excitement in her voice to care where they lived, so long as it made her happy.

  ‘That’s good,’ Maggie laughed. ‘Because I’ve jumped the gun a bit and been in touch with a relocation agent, asking them to search one out for us. When do you think you can get home? I’m dying to shop. And not just shop,’ she whispered teasingly, a husky meaningfulness deepening her voice.

  ‘I’m on my way,’ Oliver assured her fervently.

  ‘So what did you think of Draycotte Manor?’ the young man in the estate agents’ office asked Dan eagerly. ‘I would have sent someone to view it with you, but, as I explained, unfortunately we’re unexpectedly short-staffed today.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Dan assured him truthfully. ‘And anyway…’ He paused. Of course he wasn’t interested in buying the manor. That wasn’t why he had gone to see it. Anyone even thinking of taking it on would have to be half crazy and have a bottomless wallet to finance their craziness.

  ‘It’s in one hell of a condition,’ he heard himself saying.

  ‘The executors of the late owners’ estate are prepared to negotiate,’ the estate agent told him swiftly. ‘In fact, if you like I could arrange for you to
meet with them today…’

  ‘Hey.’ Dan stopped him. ‘I’m not really…’

  ‘Look, why don’t you sleep on it?’ the other man was pressing him. ‘I mean, the land itself could be a really good investment buy, with planning permission…’

  ‘Anything that was worth building on was sold years ago,’ Dan told him dryly. ‘What’s left is basically water meadows—great if you want to raise watercress, but not much use for anything else.’

  The estate agent gave a small shrug, obviously losing interest as he recognised that Dan wasn’t a serious potential buyer. And yet, to his own bemusement, instead of requesting that he be provided with details of properties more suitable for his requirements, Dan heard himself saying, ‘I can’t see that I’d be prepared to make anything like the kind of offer you’ve indicated, but I suppose it can’t do any harm to meet with the executors.’

  The agent looked pleased.

  ‘Let me set up a meeting,’ he told Dan. ‘We’ll have your address on file, I know, but if you could just give it to me again…’

  The post office had been busier than Nicki had expected and it would take her several minutes to walk through the town to where she had parked her car. The small, carefully chosen private school Joey attended was several miles outside the town. It had a first-class reputation and acted as a feeder for the area’s most prestigious fee-paying senior school. Kit had baulked a little at first when Nicki had insisted on private education for Joey.

  ‘Laura went to state schools,’ he had reminded her, ‘and she got an excellent degree.’

  ‘That was some time ago,’ Nicki had pointed out impatiently. ‘Things are different now, Kit. For one thing, the school that Laura attended has closed down; all the area’s secondary school age pupils now attend the same comprehensive. I want the best for Joey,’ she had insisted fiercely. ‘And I intend to see that he gets it.’