by Liz Fielding
‘No. Now we talk. We’d got as far as marriage,’ she reminded him. He put his arm around, easing her onto his lap so that they could lie together on the sofa. ‘What happened, Jack. Are you divorced?’
‘No, not divorced. Lisette was killed in an accident.’
‘Oh, Jack. I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it-’
‘No, it’s all right. It’s time I did.’ But it was still a while before he began to speak. ‘She was killed standing at a bus stop.’
‘A bus stop?’ she prompted after another long silence.
‘I know what you’re thinking. Why on earth would the wife of a relatively wealthy man be standing at a bus stop?’ She didn’t think he expected her to offer an answer. ‘I’ll tell you, Melanie. She was catching a bus because I was so wrapped up in work that I’d forgotten her car had a flat battery. She’d asked me to put it on charge. She never could work out how to do anything like that herself. And I forgot. She didn’t have anywhere desperately important to go. But she wanted me to know that I was neglecting her. So instead of ringing for a taxi she decided to catch a bus. She wouldn’t have complained about the car refusing to start, simply yelled at me for forgetting to do something about it. She wasn’t like that. She would have told me about how she’d waited for hours for a bus, the screaming children, the dirty seats...’
‘What happened, Jack?’
‘A man, a good family man, driving quietly along the road, going about his business, simply collapsed and died at the wheel of his car. He fell against the steering wheel, his foot stuck on the accelerator and three people died. Lisette was one of them.’
‘And you blame yourself.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘Accidents happen, Jack. Stupid accidents. I know.’ She was silent for a moment, remembering. Then, realising that he was waiting for her to go on, she said, ‘My mother was killed in a flash flood a couple of years ago on the way to the theatre. We were all going. It was Luke’s idea.’ He had blamed himself, too. ‘He bought the tickets, called my mother, offered to drive up and fetch her. But she said no, she didn’t think she’d come. Then, at the last minute, she changed her mind and drove herself.’
‘And she died.’
‘It was my father, you see, playing Shylock. No one knew but Luke blamed himself for not realising sooner.’
‘I’m sorry, Mel.’
‘Everything we do has some unforeseen consequence.’ She stirred uneasily. ‘I shouldn’t be here now.’
‘Where should you be, Mel? Doing some old biddy’s ironing?’
‘No. I should be lying on a beach somewhere in Australia. I was going to book the first flight out of London when I bumped into you. But you said, slow down. You’ll hurt someone. And that made me stop and think. Then I met Richard and he...’ She gave a diffident little shrug. ‘You stopped me, Jack and then Richard wound me up like a clockwork toy and sent me on my way again.’ She turned to look down into his face. ‘And I ended up cleaning your apartment. Did you love her very much?’
He didn’t even have to consider his answer. ‘I thought I did when I married her. She was fresh, lovely, she seemed the obvious choice. And I was something of catch I suppose. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was a mistake. Instead of taking the brave decision, facing up to it, I simply buried myself in my work. But she didn’t have a job. She sat at home and brooded. And her bitterness drove her out to bus stop when she could have picked up a telephone and called a taxi.’
‘So that’s why you prefer bed-and-breakfast partners like Caroline.’
‘Is it?’
‘Plenty of style, not much content. You didn’t even have to pretend to stop thinking about work when you were with her, did you?’
‘I suppose not. Now you, my love, in that horrible wig and that ghastly uniform had no style at all, and you weren’t particularly lovely to look at. Yet ever since I came home and found you in my apartment, work has seemed less and less important. In fact I haven’t called my office for days. Poor Mike will think I’ve been swallowed by a shark.’
She grinned, eased herself more comfortably against him as the warmth of the fire made her feel drowsy. ‘Gus would have phoned him if you’d be eaten. It might even have made the front page of the Courier.’
‘You may be right. But he certainly thinks I’m not talking to him.’ She looked surprised. ‘We had a bit of a disagreement. About you. He thinks you’re the Mata Hari of commercial espionage. That you’ve taken me in, body and soul. ‘
‘And what do you think?’
‘I know what you are.’ She waited, expectantly for him to tell her, but instead he pulled her down and kissed her.
When she finally lifted her head, she said, ‘This thing with Mike. Don’t let it fester, Jack. Call him as soon as we get back to the hotel. Make your peace.’ She turned to listen to the wind howling outside the sugar mill and shivered. ‘You should never part on hard words. Always say goodbye as if it was the last time.’
‘That was heartfelt.’
‘It was. One way or another I have a lot of calls to make. And my father and Diana are out there somewhere on a yacht. I wouldn’t want to have to live with the way we parted.’
‘Hey. Come on. This is just a squall. It’ll be over in no time.’ He eased her head down onto his shoulder, put his arm around her. ‘Are you warm enough?’
‘Mmmm.’ He kissed her again as she nuzzled against him and closed her eyes.
Melanie woke to silence. For a moment she couldn’t place where she was, only that she was with Jack, that his arm was around her. And then she remembered the storm.
He was asleep and he looked so sweetly vulnerable that she couldn’t resist kissing him. His chin, the corner of his mouth, the tip of his ear. He stirred. She continued her mouth’s butterfly assault on his temple, an eyelid.
At some point she became aware that although his eyes remained closed he was awake, but she didn’t stop. Visiting his throat, the hollow of his collar bone, easing down his chest with little flickers of her tongue until she felt the unmistakable stirring of his body against her thigh.
‘You know a girl could get into serious trouble that way.’
‘A girl might just be wondering long it would take.’
Without warning he grabbed her and as she laughed they overbalanced and fell onto the floor with the sheet twisted about them. ‘Now, lady, what were you saying?’
‘I was saying that it isn’t nice to lie there lapping up attention while a girl is getting desperate.’
‘Desperate? Well that won’t do.’ He began to kiss her.
For a moment she surrendered utterly, then she began to wriggle. ‘Jack-’
‘It’s too late to change your mind young lady,’ he began. ‘You can’t just lead a man on and expect to get away with it -’
‘Jack!’
The urgency with which she said his name finally penetrated his sleepy arousal. ‘What?’
She was looking up towards the doorway and he turned his head. The three men standing in the doorway were more-or-less upside down. One was Mike Palmer, the second looked vaguely familiar, the third, he had never seen before in his life. He didn’t remember inviting any of them in.
‘Did you want something, gentleman?’ he enquired, his voice less than friendly. ‘As you can see we’re rather busy.’
‘Please don’t rush, Mr Wolfe,’ the vaguely familiar one said. ‘Any time in the next sixty seconds will do. We’ll be waiting outside.’ And the door closed.
Jack turned and looked up at Melanie. ‘Who the hell was that?’
She swallowed. ‘Do you remember me telling you about my uncle? The one you’d have to worry about if your intentions were less than honourable?’
‘The one who’s married to your half-sister? Luke?’ She nodded. ‘That was him?’ He sat up as the names finally connected and memory slammed back. ‘Luke Devlin? Luke Devlin is your uncle?’
‘Yes, Jack. And I’m afraid he’s br
ought reinforcements. The guy built like a brick outhouse is Gabriel MacIntyre - Mac - he’s married to my other sister, Claudia. I think perhaps it might be a good idea to get dressed now, my love. I don’t imagine Luke was kidding about the sixty seconds.’
Their clothes were dry but crumpled and they didn’t possess a comb between them. ‘How do I look?’ Melanie asked.
Her hair had dried into tiny waves, her skin was burnished by the sun. Jack thought he’d never seen her looking lovelier. ‘You look like an angel.’
‘Kiss me.’
‘The condemned man’s last comfort?’ he suggested. But he held her for a moment, kissed her sweetly. Then he took her hand. ‘Come on. Let’s get this over with.’ He opened the door and ushered her through, closing it carefully behind him.
There were two buggies pulled up on the path. Gus was sitting in one with Mike, taking care to look anywhere but at Jack and Melanie. Luke Devlin and his brother-in-law were standing by the first.
‘Go with Gus, sweetheart. I’ll see you back at the cottage,’ Jack murmured.
‘Oh, but-’
But he was already walking across to Luke Devlin and he slid into the driver’s seat of the buggy. ‘Shall we go, Mr Devlin?’ he said, starting the engine. Luke’s eyes narrowed and he glanced back to Melanie. ‘Melanie will be quite safe with Gus. Why don’t you go with them Mr MacIntyre? What Devlin and I have to say to one another doesn’t need an audience.’
Melanie watched the two men drive away and then smiled at Mac as he crossed to her, raising herself to tiptoes to kiss his cheek. ‘Hello, Mac. This is an unexpected surprise.’
‘Luke was a bit concerned. About the storm.’
‘Really? He heard the weather forecast and he flew all the way from London?’
‘I’m sorry, Mel,’ Gus said. ‘Your uncle turned up this morning. I thought he’d go crazy during the storm and there was no way I could stop him from coming with me to pick you up when I saw the smoke from the mill.’
‘It’s my fault, I’m afraid.’ Melanie turned to the man in the back seat. ‘Mike Palmer. Jack’s number two.’
‘The man who thinks I’m Mata Hari? Why are you here?’
‘Would it help if I said I’m sorry?’
‘I’m not quite sure what you’ve done, Mike.’ He glanced sideways at a stoney-faced Mac and began to explain. But nothing could prepare her for the two page spread the Courier had devoted to her fairytale romance with Jack. Or rather her entire family’s romantic history. They were all there.
Her father and his first wife, the actress Elaine French. There was a picture of her mother, years old. Heaven knew where they had found that. And of course there was the recent wedding photograph of Beau and Diana.
Side panels were devoted to wedding pictures of Fizz and Luke, Claudia and Mac.
The centre piece was a blown up image of a heart-shaped locket. In one half was a picture of Jack, in the other of herself. And the banner headline, running across two pages and decorated with bells and horseshoes, read, THE BEAUMONT BRIDES.
They’d missed nothing. Even speculation that the newly wed Mr & Mrs Edward Beaumont on honeymoon in the Caribbean had called at The Ark and encountered Jack and Melanie. It was salacious, intrusive and perfectly horrible and she didn’t know how she was ever going to be able to look Jack in the face again.
*****
‘Okay, Mike. What happened?’
‘Latham saw the first newspaper piece and telephoned Devlin. He told him that you were the one doing the insider trading. Devlin called the TSC and they put him in the picture about that. But it meant we couldn’t hang around. Tamblin has been arrested. Latham was picked up at the airport.’ He paused.
‘Come on, there’s more.’
‘Latham had all the papers and tapes he’d stolen from the office listed and dated ready to hand over to the TSC.’
‘Mike!’ Jack protested impatiently. He had more important things to do than discuss business.
‘One of them was apparently from your apartment. The draft of the letter you wrote to Gus. He’d clearly labelled it as being given to him by Melanie Devlin.’
‘But we both know that draft was never at my apartment, Mike.’ He leaned back. ‘He meant to implicate her.’
‘Why?’
‘The man is clearly as twisted as a corkscrew. He probably always fancied her. This was to be her payback for not falling under his charm.’
‘I suppose so.’ Mike glanced at the newspaper. ‘What can I say about that?’
‘You did what you thought was right. You didn’t know she was one of the fabulous Beaumonts. I didn’t know until Uncle Luke spelled it out in words of one syllable.’
‘Devlin descended on me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t convince him that you weren’t about to marry the girl. When he said he was coming here to find out what was going on, well I thought I’d better come too.’
‘I bet that was a jolly journey.’ Mike said nothing. ‘Well I’m glad you did come. How you fancy being my best man?’
‘You’re kidding me? He’s not put a shotgun at your back?’
‘Not exactly. I put one to his.’ Jack grinned. ‘He was all for whisking his darling girl away from me until I reminded him that swimming trunks don’t have pockets.’ Mike looked confused. ‘Where do you keep your condoms when you go snorkelling, Mike?’
‘You’re telling me that you looked Luke Devlin in the eye and said that?’
‘He wasn’t quite as slow as you, Mike.’ Jack frowned. ‘Actually he said something rather odd. He said if that’s how it was there was no point in fighting it, it was in the Beaumont genes.’
‘What to do you suppose he meant?’
Jack had a very good idea what Luke meant, but he didn’t say so. He simply shrugged. ‘Who can say? But he’s married to one of the Beaumont girls himself so I guess he knows what he’s talking about. Now, tell me about the co-operative.’
‘I would have thought you had more important things to think about.’
‘I’m clearing the decks, Mike. Then I’m handing the whole lot over to you for the foreseeable future, so I suggest you pay attention.’
****
Melanie showered, washed her hair, laid out her clothes for the evening and the following morning and packed the rest. She had just closed her suitcase when she heard the cottage door opening.
‘Jack?’
‘Hi, sweetheart. Feeling better?’ he said, as she appeared in the bedroom door.
‘Yes, thank you.’ She looked at him anxiously. No black eyes or broken nose. ‘Luke didn’t beat you to a pulp, then?’
‘Certainly not. Two civilised men can always settle their differences without resorting to violence.’
‘Oh? How?’
‘Well, first I pointed out that you were a grown woman, capable of making your own decisions. I agreed that the publicity was not only unfortunate, but in extremely bad taste, but that circumstances had combined in a way quite impossible for foresee.’
Her eyes strayed to the table, the newspaper. ‘I’m sorry. Truly. I should have told you who I was.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Being described as Prince Charming makes a change from the Big Bad Wolf.’ He shrugged. ‘Whether Luke would agree with the character change is a moot point.’
‘It wasn’t that civilised, then?’
‘There were one or two moments when things could have gone either way. But as you see, I’m here, in one piece and without a chaperone.’
‘Well, Luke isn’t a fool. We’re going home tomorrow and this will be nothing but a nine-days wonder. You’ll see.’ She pulled her hands free. ‘Is Luke having dinner with us?’
‘That was the plan.’
‘That is very civilised.’
‘I hope so.’
For one terrible moment he had thought she had truly meant it. That after tomorrow she would go her own way and never think about him again. But her smile so slight, so full of sadness told another story. He would
have asked her to marry him right then, but he was sure she would decide that Luke had put pressure on him and refuse.
‘I’m going to get dressed, Jack. And then I’m going down to the marina. I’m worried about Diana and Beau.’
‘They’ll have put into shelter somewhere. The islands have a thousand safe places to ride out a storm,’ he reassured her.
‘I’m sure you’re right, but I tried to get them on the radio earlier and there was no response.’
He briefly cradled her cheek, kissed the top of her head. ‘Wait for me, darling. I’ll come with you.’
She watched him cross to the bathroom, close the door. A week ago she had thought “darling” the most careless of endearments. But the way Jack had said it then... She turned abruptly away, settled herself at the dressing table and began to apply her makeup, brush out her hair.
She had just discarded her towelling wrap and was standing in her grey silk teddy when Jack opened the bathroom door.
He paused for a moment, struck silent by sheer the beauty of her. It was more than her slender, lovely body, her wide eyes, thick glossy fair hair. It seemed to shine from somewhere within her and he wanted to go to her, tell her how much he loved her and then show it in every way he knew how.
But now wasn’t the time and after a few seconds he moved to help her with her zip as she stepped into a grey watered silk dress. It was straight, stopping well short of the knee and the neckline was cut square across her breasts, with broad pleated straps falling into tiny cap sleeves.
‘You look lovely,’ he said. Then, ‘Can you wait long enough for me to give you something? I know it’s not your birthday until the day after tomorrow, but I’d like you to have to now.’
‘A present?’ she said, brightly. ‘How lovely.’
‘I hope you think so.’ He opened a drawer and removed a leather covered jeweller’s box. The pendant and long drop earrings were delicate white gold filigree glittering with diamonds, glowing with tiny seed pearls.
‘Oh, Jack. How lovely.’ She lifted one of the earrings from its velvet bed. ‘Can I wear them now? They’ll go with my dress.’
