Sunrise at Butterfly Cove
Page 21
‘I think you must be confused.’ It was tempting to snap, but Mia forced herself to remain polite as she delivered the killer blow. ‘This event is for the opening of an exhibition for my fiancé, Daniel Fitzwilliams. You must have your dates mixed up.’ Mia stepped around the woman and gestured towards the door. ‘Now if you will excuse us, we have a lot of work to do.’
Giselle flushed an ugly shade of puce, her mouth gaping open and closed like a fish, and Mia felt a touch of venom sharpen the smile plastered across her face. She held Giselle more than partially responsible for the mess Daniel had been in when he landed on her doorstep. She gestured impatiently towards the door, nodding to Claire who dutifully swung it open.
The blonde spun towards her companion, who was shifting uncomfortably under the dual glares of Madeline and Pat. ‘Nigel!’ she shrieked. ‘What the hell is going on? Who are these people?’ She swivelled on her spiked heel towards Maggie who was standing with her hands on her hips, enjoying the show.
‘What did you do, you interfering old cow?’ Spittle formed at the corner of Giselle’s lips as she stepped towards Maggie, her fingers curled, sharp nails like claws ready to strike out.
Mia blocked her path. ‘Enough!’ She grabbed the taller woman by the wrist, marching them both towards the door. She might be smaller than the other woman, but you didn’t grow up with two sisters without knowing how to hold your own. Keeping her grip on Giselle’s arm, she forced her to keep moving until they’d cleared the door and taken half a dozen steps down the pavement. She let her go and leaned back against the window of the shop next door to the gallery.
‘It’s over, Giselle. You lost. Fitz is gone and he’s not coming back. Why don’t you do yourself a favour and just walk away.’
The blonde rubbed her wrist, feigning hurt, although Mia had been careful not to dig her nails in, much as she might have wanted to. ‘Who are you?’ she hissed.
Tired of being polite, Mia dropped her casual pose. ‘I told you already. I’m Daniel’s fiancé.’ Okay, so they hadn’t settled on marriage, but this woman needed to get the message. ‘There’s nothing here for you. After the exhibition, Daniel is coming home with me. We love each other; we’ve made a home together. He’s happy.’
A glint of moisture shone for a moment in Giselle’s eyes and Mia almost felt sorry for her. With a downward sweep of her mascara-thick lashes, the hint of vulnerability vanished and Giselle pursed her lips in a sneer. ‘I might have known he’d end up with someone like you. You look like a housewife, for God’s sake.’
If that was her idea of an insult, Mia would take it any day of the week. The other woman would be fine. People like her always survived. It wouldn’t take her long to shrug this off and find some other man to latch on to. ‘Goodbye, Giselle.’
The blonde hesitated, then stalked off with a dismissive flick of her hair. Mia took a deep breath. One down, one to go. Nigel was still in the gallery, but she would leave Daniel to deal with him.
She found Madeline lurking on the gallery doorstep, a broad grin on her face. ‘That’s my girl.’ She slid her arm around Mia’s waist and gave her a squeeze. She leaned her head against her friend’s shoulder for a moment, then let her steer her back inside towards the table where they picked up the task of unpacking glasses.
Daniel glared at Nigel then pointed towards the back. The agent ran a hand over his gelled-back hair in a nervous gesture before following his furious client. A brief, awkward silence filled the room before Bill turned to Richard and said mildly, ‘Did I tell you about the time that Pat put a brick through my car window?’
Mia snorted loudly and she felt Madeline shake beside her as she tried to supress her own laughter.
Pat turned to Bill and replied in an equally mild voice, ‘Well it served you right for taking that trollop, Veronica Bailey for a test drive. I told you then and it still holds now, William Sutherland. I won’t stand for any shenanigans.’
A ripple of laughter spread through the room as Bill grabbed his wife and dipped her over his arm for a kiss worthy of an old-style film star. Pat clutched at his shoulders and gave as good as she got. The ladies clapped and laughed whilst Aaron and Luke quickly turned away and made a big deal of pinning and repining a few of the photos on their boards.
Glasses set up, Mia moved to help Richard position the ‘Future’ pictures on the right-hand wall. The three distinct groupings described the journey both she and Daniel had started since his arrival at Butterfly Cove, ending in their aspirations for the future. Maybe it would be a bit sentimental for the cynical London art crowd, but she didn’t care. These were personal images and they needed to be displayed in an emotional, emotive way.
The door to the office opened and Mia watched Nigel step out into the gallery, with Daniel on his heels. She barely glanced at the greasy agent, her concern all for the man behind him. He looked okay. A little sad perhaps, but not too upset. She caught his eye and raised her eyebrows. He nodded to indicate that everything was fine, so she turned her attention to Nigel.
A ruddy flush glowed on his cheeks and his previously slicked-back hair looked rumpled. His hands were jammed tightly in his suit jacket pockets, ruining the line, and there was a faint tick in the muscle of his jaw. He didn’t speak as he ran the gauntlet of disapproval through the gallery and Claire hurried forward to open the door to the gallery.
Nigel stepped out onto the pavement and turned back towards the group who had drifted closer to the door, forming a barricade of support behind Daniel. He seemed to have caught a glimpse of his reflection in the gallery window by the way he quickly tidied his hair and straightened the front of his jacket. With a few brushes of his hands, he transformed his outer appearance from defeated to impervious. He brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his collar and shot the cuffs of his shirt. ‘Can’t blame a fellow for trying now, can you?’ he said in a faux-jocular manner.
‘Yes,’ said Daniel quietly. ‘Yes, I can.’
Nigel blinked once before regaining his composure quickly. He raised two fingers to his temple in a sarcastic salute before turning away and marching down the road as though he owned it. He and Giselle deserved each other.
Mia wrinkled her nose in disgust as she stepped forward to place her hand on the small of Daniel’s back. He curled an arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side to press a kiss to the top of her head. The others melted away back to their self-appointed tasks.
Mia turned into him, raising her hand to scrub through the soft dark beard on Daniel’s chin. His green eyes sparkled as he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. ‘So, fiancé, is it?’ he said with a smirk on his face.
‘Hey now! Don’t get any ideas. Boyfriend just sounds stupid at our age.’ She folded her arms, but couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice. ‘I haven’t asked!’
‘You will, though,’ he said with absolutely certainty.
He was right; she would.
But that was for another day.
Turn the page for an exclusive sneak peek at the enchanting next book in the Butterfly Cove series, Wedding Bells at Butterfly Cove!
Prologue
June 1996
Aaron Spenser raised his left shoulder in a valiant attempt to prevent his heavy schoolbag from falling off his arm as he eased the front door closed as quietly as he could. Thump! The bag hit the red-brick tiles surrounding the inlaid doormat. He held his breath, hoping Cathy might be busy elsewhere in the house and too far away to hear.
‘Aaron?’ she called to him from the sitting room in her sharp tone. ‘Make sure you take your shoes off. It took me ages to clean up the mud you tracked in last time.’ He stifled the urge to protest. The mud had come from Luke’s shoes, but putting the blame on his little brother would only make his stepmother cross.
‘Sorry, Cathy.’ If he had fifty pence for every time those words left his mouth, he’d have enough money in his escape fund to run away to London. He’d become obsessed with the place since his dad had taken him on a trip
to see the sights. They’d gone on the train, just the two of them, and ridden around on the top deck of a bright red bus with no roof. His dad had shown him the Houses of Parliament and told him that was where Guy Fawkes had tried to blow up the king.
Full of sights and smells so unlike the sleepy Somerset village they called home, Aaron had fallen in love with the place. He was determined to move there as soon as he was old enough. He would miss his dad, and Luke too, even if he was always under his feet, but if he went away then maybe Cathy would be happy. And he wouldn’t be in so much trouble all the time.
He unlaced his shoes—pulling them off ruined the backs and scuffed the leather, so Cathy had admonished him more times than he could count. He placed them on the rack in the under-stairs cupboard. His coat went on a hook beside the door, on the sewn-in loop of course, never by the hood. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he headed for the relative safety of his bedroom.
‘Is there something you’ve forgotten?’ He peered over the bannister from his spot halfway up the stairs into Cathy’s disapproving eyes.
‘I was just going upstairs to do my homework…’
‘School report. I know they were issued today.’ She clicked her fingers.
Aaron swallowed. He wanted to save it until his dad came home and show him the ‘B’ he’d got in science. It was a subject he had struggled with the previous term and he knew Dad would be thrilled to see his mark go up. Mrs Kenman had written some nice things about how hard he was working and he wanted to be there to watch his dad’s face light up when he read it. If Cathy took the report, she’d only care that it wasn’t an ‘A’ and ruin things.
‘Today, Aaron.’
With a sigh, he pulled out the envelope and leaned over the bannister to hand it to her, then began to trudge the rest of the way upstairs.
‘I can do without your sulking. Wash your hands then come straight back down. Daddy’s going to be late home, so you and Luke can have your tea now and have an early night. It’s taken me all day to tidy the house up, so I deserve some peace and quiet this evening.’ Battling down his disappointment, Aaron did as he was told. Cathy was in a right mood about something, so the best answer would be to do whatever she said and keep his mouth shut.
The gloomy grey cloud hanging over him lifted when he entered the kitchen and Luke clambered down from his chair to run towards him as fast as his chubby four-year-old legs could carry him. ‘Awen!’ Luke crowed.
Aaron bent down to hitch his brother onto his hip, accepting the sloppy kiss on his cheek with a laugh. ‘Hello, Spud. Have you had a nice day?’
Luke giggled at the silly nickname. He loved it as much as Cathy hated it. ‘I done painting.’
‘Did painting, darling.’ Cathy stroked a hand over Luke’s bouncy blond curls, a tender look on her face. She scooped her son out of Aaron’s arms and carried him back to his seat. ‘Be a good boy and sit still while I talk to your brother.’
Luke’s face fell. Even at his age, he could tell there was something wrong with the way his mother treated Aaron. Not wanting to distress him, Aaron caught his eye and gave him a wink. The beaming smile he got back was worth every scold, every sigh, every disappointed shake of Cathy’s head. If his dad hadn’t married her, then he wouldn’t have Luke, which didn’t bear thinking about. Squaring his shoulders, Aaron stood up straight and braced himself.
Cathy folded her arms. ‘Do you understand how hard your daddy works, Aaron?’ He opened his mouth to say yes, but she held up her hand to cut him off. ‘Clearly you don’t, otherwise you wouldn’t let him down like this. All that extra time he spent helping you, no matter how tired he was at the end of the day, and the best you can manage is a “B”?’ She frowned. ‘I don’t know what got into you, Aaron. You used to be such a lovely boy. When did you get so selfish?’
He swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears burning the backs of his eyes fall. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.
‘I should hope you are. Now sit down and eat. It’s as well you’ll be in bed when Brian gets home. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him.’ A rebellious little voice grumbled in Aaron’s ear that if she had minded her own business, she wouldn’t have to explain anything to his dad because he could do it himself. He pressed his lips together before the angry words could spill out. Nothing good would come of saying them. Cathy would shout and then she would cry, and Luke would cry and his dad would have to sort it all out when he got home.
The bedroom door creaked wider and a familiar silhouette appeared in the light cast from the landing. Aaron had left his door open on purpose, hoping his dad would peek his head in. ‘I’m awake,’ he said, keeping his voice quiet in case Cathy was lurking.
His dad came and sat beside his bed, one arm resting on the mattress next to Aaron. ‘It’s late, Bumble.’ Aaron’s grandmother had knitted him a black-and-yellow striped jumper when he was a baby and his mummy said it made him look like a bumblebee. The name had stuck. ‘How was your day?’
Aaron rolled on his side and leant his head on his dad’s arm. ‘I scored a try.’
His dad scooted closer, until they were almost nose-to-nose. ‘That’s amazing, and I saw your “B” in science too. Well done.’
‘I’m sorry it wasn’t an “A”.’ It was all he could do not to choke on the words.
His dad dropped his free hand onto Aaron’s head, stroking his hair. ‘Getting a “B” is nothing to be sorry for. B is a great mark. B for brilliant, B for best effort, B for my Bumble.’
Aaron sniffled. ‘Cathy said…’
‘Shh. Never mind what Cathy said. I’m your dad and I say you’re the best son a man could ever want. You and Lukey, too. I don’t know what I did to deserve you both. Your mummy would be so proud.’ His dad bent to kiss his forehead, then eased Aaron back onto his pillow. ‘Go to sleep now, Bumble; sweet dreams.’
He stroked Aaron’s hair until his eyes grew too heavy to keep them open. ‘You’re the best dad, too,’ he mumbled as sleep overtook him.
***
Kiki Thorpe held her little sister on her lap and tried to encourage three-year-old Nee to finish her tea. The stubborn little girl twisted her head to the side, mouth clamped shut against all attempts to push the spoon of baked beans into it. Kiki couldn’t blame her. Scrambled egg and beans on toast wasn’t her favourite either, but with their mother not feeling well, again, it was up to Kiki, and her big sister Mia, to make sure they had a hot meal of some description. ‘Come on, Nee. Just one more mouthful for me,’ she begged.
‘If you’re not going to eat any more then you can get ready for bed.’ Mia glanced over from the sink where she was scrubbing the pans they’d used for cooking. Kiki bit her lip to hide a smile. If there was one thing Nee hated more than beans on toast, it was the thought of missing out on anything. Mia’s words worked like a charm and Nee gulped at the end of the spoon.
‘Well done, poppet.’ Kiki kissed her little sister’s cheek and cuddled her close. With mother in her room and their dad still at work, it was the three of them against the world. She checked the clock on the wall. There was a little bit of time before Nee’s official bedtime. They tried to keep to a routine for their little sister, an island of calm in the chaos caused by their mother’s moods.
Lifting Nee down, she stood and took her hand. ‘Why don’t we put your story on?’ Nee clapped her hands in delight. Her current obsession was Cinderella, and she would watch it every day if she could. Kiki took her into the front room to set the video player up. She put Nee on a cosy pile of cushions on the floor and waited a few moments until her sister was absorbed before tiptoeing out of the room.
She re-entered the kitchen to find Mia stuffing dirty clothes into the washing machine. It wasn’t fair. Not on Kiki, and especially not on Mia who was only a year older than her. ‘What can I do to help?’
Mia glanced over her shoulder and pulled a face. ‘Can you take Mum a cup of tea and see if she’s all right? I’ve already boiled the kettle so be careful.’
Her sister came over and squeezed her from behind. ‘I know, Kiki Dee, I know.’ She sounded tired out.
‘What time will Dad be home?’
Mia shrugged. ‘Who knows? I’ve made him a sandwich and put it in the fridge.’ Their dad ate his main meal at the university where he worked as a professor teaching people all about ancient Greece. They didn’t see much of him as when he was at home, he spent most of his time locked away in his study.
Kiki carried the hot tea upstairs, taking care not to spill any on the pale carpet. She put it on the small table on the landing, next to the upstairs telephone. ‘Mummy?’ She tapped on the closed door.
‘Come in.’
At least her mother was awake. She opened the door then carried the mug inside. ‘Hello, Mummy. I’ve brought you some tea.’
Her mother lay on the small couch beneath her window, a soft blanket over her legs. An empty glass rested on the table beside her and Kiki made a point of not looking at it as she put down the tea. ‘Here you go.’
Vivian Thorpe rolled her head against the cushion to face Kiki. ‘Mummy’s thirsty.’
Kiki’s tummy started to feel funny. ‘I’ve brought you some tea,’ she said again, pointing at the mug.
‘Mummy needs her special drink, darling. I’ve got such a terrible pain in my head.’ Her red-rimmed eyes turned watery. ‘You want to help me, don’t you, Kiki?’
She looked down at her hands, which were twisted in the front of her grey school cardigan. ‘Yes, Mummy.’
‘Good girl.’
Chapter One
May 2016