‘And,’ Dexter continued, ‘I thought it might be a good opportunity to get the accountant in to go through the books – Simon handled all the finances, all the preparation of the books for the accountant and the Inland Revenue so I’d never really looked at them before – because I was thinking maybe we could sort of franchise the idea of the chauffeur-driven cars for the less well off and hopefully turn that into a spin-off. And I didn’t want Simon dissing the idea out of hand. And, well, to cut to the chase, the accountant left me the figures to look at, and I discovered that someone had been creaming off money for years.’
‘Cindy?’
Dexter shook his head. ‘No way. I knew it wasn’t Cindy. But it was a huge swindle. Really huge. We’re talking hundreds of thousands. All our corporate clients had been paying through the nose for trips and services that hadn’t existed, for years.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Exactly.’ Dexter was very pale. ‘And I just knew it was how Simon was funding his Richard Branson-type lifestyle. I just knew it. And I felt so sick. So, when they came back from their holiday, I tackled him.’
‘Bloody hell.’ Frankie shook her head. ‘And did he admit it?’
‘No. Not in so many words. Well, not at first, anyway. But he went completely berserk. We had a fight. Big time. And he said I should have kept my nose out and everything would have been all right and that he was only taking money from the big customers who could afford it.’
‘And he thought that was OK?’
‘Apparently. And Simon just kept on saying I had to keep my mouth shut, and denying that it could hurt anyone. But it was my business too, you see, and I’d worked so hard to make it successful for years. And, despite my bad reputation –’ he smiled gently at her ‘– I am basically a very straight bloke. I loathe dishonesty. Simon wasn’t just ripping off the corporates by his swindle, indirectly he was also cheating me and the less-privileged customers who’d enjoyed the service for so long. And because Simon had been greedy and dishonest, I knew it was only a matter of time before we were investigated, then the whole business was going to fold, and I couldn’t let that happen.’
‘So?’
‘So I begged him to admit everything, to come clean. The accountant must have known the figures were wrong, so it was only a matter of time before the Inland Revenue found out, and so it would be much better for Simon to admit he’d made a mistake with his figures and offer to repay, than to be under investigation and for us to lose everything.’
‘And he wouldn’t?’
‘No. He just kept saying as long as I kept schtum then it would all go away. But I knew it wouldn’t. And Dream Drives was really, really important to me and I wanted to save it.’
‘And Cindy? What did she know about all this?’
‘Nothing. That was one thing Simon and I agreed on. That Cindy – and none of our employees – should ever get wind of it. Oh, Cindy knew we’d had a major falling-out, but she didn’t know why. And we didn’t tell her.’
‘So?’
‘When it became clear that Simon had no intention of confessing, and every intention of carrying on his scam, I gave him umpteen chances to change his mind but he wouldn’t, so then I went to the police, and told them. And Simon was arrested and charged with fraud.’
‘Bloody hell. I bet that went down well.’
‘It completely ballsed up everything. And then –’ Dexter swallowed as they turned into the driveway of a large country house ‘– it got worse.’
Frankie frowned at the house. There were lights spilling in warm welcome from all the windows. What on earth were they doing here? Was it a hotel? Had they stopped for dinner? It was dark now, and she was hungry, but somehow she’d imagined they’d go straight back to Kingston Dapple. Maybe Dexter felt he needed to take a break after all the awfulness.
‘Simon was let out on bail, pending inquiries.’ Dexter pulled the Mercedes to a halt behind a row of cars. ‘And he came to find me, furiously angry, and said he knew I’d reported him.’
‘Well, yes I suppose he would have reached that conclusion.’ Dexter got out of the car and opened the door for her. ‘This won’t take long. We’d better hurry – it’s too wet to hang around outside.’
Frankie stared doubtfully at the huge, beautiful sprawling house. Suddenly swamped by foreboding, a niggle of fear shivered inside her. She had an awful feeling that this house was immensely important to Dexter and to the secrets of his past. She was convinced now that something horrid awaited her inside.
‘Where are we? Is this a hotel? Are we eating here?’ Frankie looked at him hopefully. ‘I’ve got my credit card, but no cash at all. Bloody Thelma and Louise had all my cash.’
‘You won’t need any money, it’s not a hotel, and, no, we’re not stopping long.’ Dexter took her hand, and heads down and feet scrunching on wet gravel, they hurried through the icy wind and rain towards the doorway.
‘Then what exactly are we doing?’ Frankie shook raindrops from her hair as they stood in the gorgeously warm and luxurious foyer, looking around in astonishment. ‘Is this place run by friends of yours or something? Or is it a private house? Do you have landed gentry chums you haven’t mentioned? Sorry, Dexter, I’m very confused now.’
‘You won’t be.’ Dexter smiled at her. ‘Please, Frankie, I need to do this.’
In the distance, along beautifully decorated corridors, Frankie could hear the muted hum of voices and occasional laughter and the clink of cutlery. She was completely mystified. Were they gate-crashing someone’s posh party? Or – her heart sank – was this Dexter’s family home?
Was Dexter really the son of the Earl of Warwick or something?
Could today get any more bizarre?
Yes, Frankie thought, her heart sinking even further, as they started to climb a wide, twisting staircase, flanked on all sides by lovely watercolour landscapes, it probably could.
‘OK.’ Dexter took her hands in his when they’d reached the top of the stairs. ‘Frankie, you’re very, very important to me, and this may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life – and I’ve done some blinders – but do you trust me?’
She nodded, still mystified, still worried. ‘Yes, actually. Totally.’
‘Right, that’s good, because now I’d like you to meet Cindy.’
Chapter Thirty
The room was large and warm, exquisitely decorated, and tastefully filled with antique furniture.
The tall slender girl with the pale face and the mass of red pre-Raphaelite curls, sitting in the high-backed armchair by the window, was probably the most beautiful woman Frankie had ever seen.
Cindy.
Fabulous, rich and classy. No wonder Dexter loved her so much.
Frankie just wanted to die on the spot.
‘Hi.’ Dexter grinned across the room. ‘Frankie, this is Cindy. Cindy, meet Frankie.’
Frankie, her heart now plummeting like a runaway lift, worked some saliva into her mouth and hoped she was smiling. ‘Um, hello, nice to meet you.’
It was anything but.
‘And you.’ Cindy smiled sweetly. ‘He’s talked about you non-stop for ever. I couldn’t wait to meet you. And –’ she looked teasingly at Dexter ‘– you lied. You said she was beautiful.’
Bitch, Frankie thought.
Cindy grinned. ‘She’s not just beautiful. She’s simply stunningly knock-out fabulous.’
OK, but then so are you, Frankie thought sadly. So are you, and he loves you, and I can’t possibly compete.
Cindy smiled some more. ‘Oh, please sit down.’
Frankie and Dexter sat, slightly awkwardly, side by side on a small velvet sofa.
Humiliated beyond belief, Frankie just wanted to stand up and run away. How could Dexter do this to her? How could he invite her into Cindy’s palatial home without warning?
At least she’d just told him about Joseph, not bloody dragged him across the world to Sydney to show him.
Dexter took Frankie’s h
and and looked at Cindy. ‘I’ve just told her. About Simon.’
‘Good.’ Cindy nodded. ‘About time.’ She smiled again at Frankie. ‘He was scared to tell you. He thought you’d leave him. I knew you wouldn’t.’
‘Er … ’ Frankie, still completely confused, just stared. ‘Leave him? We’re not even together.’
‘Not what he thinks.’ Cindy chuckled. ‘Oh Lord, Dexter, you haven’t told her how you feel at all, have you? You’re so useless.’
‘I haven’t told her anything,’ Dexter murmured, his hand tightening on Frankie’s. ‘Well, not about … ’
Not about your much-loved ex-sister-in-law – she remembered that Dexter had told her that his brother was divorced – living in a mini Chatsworth and being loaded and drop-dead gorgeous as well, no, Frankie thought bitterly, you sodding well haven’t.
‘Then I will,’ Cindy said quietly. ‘How far did you get?’
‘To where Simon came and accused me of telling the police.’
‘Oh, right, so I get to explain the good bit, do I?’ Cindy smiled cheerfully. ‘Oh, sorry – my manners are appalling – do help yourself to drinks or whatever. Dexter knows where everything is.’
I bet he does, Frankie thought even more bitterly, desperately trying not to cry and make a show of herself.
‘Tea?’ Dexter stood up.
‘Please,’ Cindy said. ‘Frankie?’
‘No thanks. I’m fine.’
‘If you’re sure … ’
Dexter disappeared through an archway and Frankie could hear the sounds of kettle, water and cups.
‘It’s probably better that he’s not here to listen to this bit,’ Cindy said. ‘He’s such a softy. And I’m so glad you and he are together, because he … No, sorry, that’s down to him to sort out. I’m not fighting all his battles. Anyway, briefly – yes, Simon accused Dexter of turning him in – which was, of course, the right thing to do – for Dexter to do, I mean, not Simon. And Simon went ballistic – he always had a nasty temper but, well, I loved him, and he was my husband and you sort of get used to things like that. Not that he was ever violent to me, of course … Anyway, after Si and Dexter had had their fight – again – Simon stormed home and said to get my coat because we were going out.’
Frankie simply nodded politely. She wasn’t sure she cared much about the Valentines’ family feuds any more.
‘I tried to ask him what had happened at the police station – I was there when they arrested him but I knew nothing. Si just said it was a silly mistake, and I believed him. He said it was just some mix-up with the accounts or something. Anyway, we got into the BMW and headed out on the M40. It was a really dark night, and Si was driving like a mad man. He always drove fast, but this was scary. I asked him to slow down, and all he did was laugh and dial Dexter on the hands-free.’
Frankie nodded again. There was nothing she could – or wanted to – say.
‘And once Dexter answered, he – Simon – said that if Dexter was taking away everything he’d ever wanted, then he – Simon – was going to take away the only thing that really mattered to Dexter.’
Frankie blinked. ‘You?’
‘Me.’ Cindy smiled.
Whoopee-doo.
Frankie took a deep breath. ‘So you always knew that Dexter loved you? But you didn’t ever love him?’
‘Dexter had a massive crush on me from the minute I joined Dream Drives, yes, I knew that. And he’s the most fantastic bloke I’ve ever met. And I know how gorgeous-looking he is and everything, but, no, he just didn’t push my buttons in that way. There was no sexual chemistry at all on my side. I only had eyes for Si. I love Dexter – and I always will – but just as a brother and a friend.’
Definitely mad, Frankie decided.
‘And … and does he still love you?’ Frankie knew she really, really didn’t want to hear the answer, but she had to know.
‘Oh, you’ll have to ask him that one yourself.’ Cindy smiled. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment. Anyway, before he comes back, where had we got to with the other stuff?’
Frankie sighed in irritation. ‘Simon driving you away from Dexter on the M40 and going too fast and –’
‘Ah yes, and, then, at just over one hundred and twenty miles an hour, Simon deliberately drove into a motorway bridge … Ooh, tea, lovely, thanks, Dexter.’
Frankie, completely overcome with far too many emotions, watched as Dexter put his own cup down carefully on a spindly-legged table and then gently held the feeding-cup up to Cindy’s lips, wiping her mouth with a tissue afterwards.
‘Thanks, that’s great. You always make a lovely cuppa.’ Cindy looked happily across at Frankie. ‘The BMW was a write-off. Simon, being a lucky bastard, walked away – well, stumbled – with concussion and a few snapped ribs and a fractured ankle. I broke my back.’
‘Oh, my God,’ Frankie whispered. ‘Oh, my God, I had no idea … I’m so sorry.’
‘Yeah, well, it was pretty crap for a while – but I’m doing fine now. You learn to adjust and I can do a million more things than I could a year ago.’
Frankie unashamedly wiped her eyes with her hands. ‘And Simon?’
‘I divorced him before the trial. And now he’s in prison. For a long, long time. Fraud, embezzlement, attempted murder.’
Frankie shook her head as Dexter sat down beside her again. ‘Oh, but … you … living here?’
‘Swish, isn’t it?’ Cindy beamed. ‘A suite in the best private nursing home in the area. Luxury living. Hot and cold medical care at the drop of a hat. I’ve even got my own lift. And all down to Dexter. Oh, I can see he hasn’t even told you that.’
‘And I wasn’t going to.’ Dexter held Frankie’s hand tightly. ‘That’s between us.’
‘You shouldn’t have any secrets from Frankie.’ Cindy looked quite stern. ‘Our house – mine and Si’s – and every single thing we possessed, was sold and went to pay off the fraud and the debts and the tax man and the lawyers and Uncle Tom Cobley and all, leaving me with sodding nothing. So, yes, Dexter, despite me screaming at him not to, because stupidly he thought this, the accident, my injuries, were his fault, sold up everything he owned—’
‘Not quite everything,’ Dexter interrupted. ‘I kept the Merc.’
‘So you did.’ Cindy wrinkled her nose. Then she looked at Frankie. ‘He sold what was left of his share of the business, which was actually loads, his other cars, his house, and raided all his bank accounts, and set up a trust fund to finance my ongoing care here once the NHS had had enough of me.’
‘Oh.’ Frankie didn’t even bother to stop the tears now. ‘Dexter, I can’t believe it, but why on earth didn’t you tell me? I mean … it’s just amazing and it’s why you—’
‘Don’t say anything nice.’ He pulled her against him. ‘Please. I’m no bloody hero or kindly benefactor. It’s what I had to do. And we live with it. And it was my fault, because—’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ Cindy said. ‘None of this was down to you. It was just Simon. Stop crucifying yourself. And I’ll never, ever be able to thank you enough for all this as you well know. And one day, when I’m up and about and walking and working again, I intend to pay you back – with interest.’
‘And will you, um … ?’ Frankie sniffed.
‘Recover? Fully?’ Cindy smiled. ‘Honestly, I’ve no idea. Probably not. But I go to physio and rehab in Birmingham twice a week and they’re working miracles. And I’ve met this really neat squaddie there who had his legs blown off in Afghanistan. We fancy the pants off each other, but we’re still not sure how to best manage the, er, more intimate side of things –’ she screamed with laughter ‘– but we’re having a hell of a lot of fun finding out.’
Frankie laughed then too. It sounded a bit odd and shaky.
Dexter shook his head. ‘Poor bloke. You’ll probably wear him out.’
‘Oh, I do hope so.’ Cindy giggled. ‘So does he.’
Frankie took a deep breath, then looked at Dexter. ‘Thank you fo
r bringing me here. It certainly puts my problems well into perspective, and I understand everything now – well, all except one thing … why did you have to leave Oxford? Surely, none of this was your fault? It was Simon who—’
‘Not the way the family saw it,’ Dexter said as Cindy nodded awkwardly in agreement. ‘Apart from Ray, of course, who was always on my side and who swore he wouldn’t breathe a word about it if I wanted to make a fresh start in Kingston Dapple. Ray was … is … has been brilliant. But the rest of them all blamed me. My parents said I should have kept quiet. Should have let Simon get away with it. He was my brother, blood’s thicker than water, all that crap. If I’d kept my mouth shut then Simon wouldn’t be in prison, Cindy and Si would still be married and probably would have given them grandchildren, Dream Drives would still be raking it in, Cindy wouldn’t be paralysed. They said it was all down to me. My parents want nothing more to do with me, but they visit Simon in prison every month.’
‘But that’s not fair!’ Frankie exploded.
‘What’s fair in this life?’ Cindy snorted. ‘Stupid sods, they are. Not that they visit me, either, since the divorce, because they think I should have stood by my man. As if! When he was as bent as a … well, bent thing, and tried to kill me into the bargain?’
‘My parents,’ Dexter said, ‘are prats.’
Cindy chuckled. ‘And they seem to be living under some sad notion that Simon is financing all this too and that I should still be grateful to him. If they ever came here – which they won’t – I’d tell them the truth.’
‘No you wouldn’t.’ Dexter grinned at her.
‘Nah, I probably wouldn’t. Let ’em stew. Bastards. Oh, drink your tea, Dexter, and then take this fabulous girl home.’ Cindy looked hopefully at Frankie. ‘Now you know about me and it and everything, you’ll come and see me again, though, won’t you?’
Frankie nodded. ‘I will. As often as possible.’
‘Great.’ Cindy beamed. ‘My mates are pretty good about visiting, and my sexy squaddie goes AWOL as often as possible, with the help of his more able-bodied chums, love ’em, and of course Dexter comes here regularly, don’t you?’
Never Can Say Goodbye Page 30
