She nodded. ‘We did, but I’m ambivalent about it now. I know Gideon feels Dad ought to know the truth, and my mother, too, now that Gideon and I are engaged.’
‘More than likely, but I can meet Owen another time. So don’t fret yourself about it, Evan.’
‘Thank you for being so understanding, always so kind to me, Robin.’
‘I love you, my dear, and you are my only grandchild.’ After refilling his cup with coffee, adding sugar, he continued carefully, ‘Evan, I have something to explain to you but it must remain absolutely confidential…just between us.’
‘I understand. You know I would never betray a confidence.’
‘Of course I do. But what I am about to tell you
must
remain a secret, because I would not want Jonathan ever to find out about it. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ Evan said quietly, feeling suddenly cold as she always did when she heard that name.
Reaching into the pocket of his old tweed jacket, Robin took out a small white postcard and handed it to her. ‘I have created a trust for you. All of the details are on the card. It’s been handled in such a way that it can never be traced to me. But just to be certain, please don’t discuss it with anyone, not even Gideon. All right?’
‘I give you my promise,’ she answered and went on quickly, ‘But this wasn’t necessary. I’ve told you before, I don’t want anything from you, Robin. Only your affection.’
‘I know, I know,’ he said, sounding slightly impatient. ‘However, I have a lot of investments and interests my son knows nothing about, and which cannot be traced back to me. I have transferred part of them to you.’
‘But Robin–’
He shook a finger at her, looking stern. ‘No buts, Evan. I don’t want to hear another word about this. Put the card in your handbag, study it properly later, digest it, and then file it away somewhere safe.’
She did as he told her, then putting her bag on the flagstones again, she reached over and took hold of his hand. ‘Thank you, Robin, you’re very generous,’ she said softly, genuinely touched by his gesture.
‘It’s my pleasure, my dear. Now, tell me, how’s Paula? I know she’s been upset about Shane getting caught up in the terrorist attacks in New York. Daisy told me.’
‘She’s feeling much better, I heard. She was exhausted on Wednesday, all that tension and anxiety got to her, Linnet told me. She and I had breakfast together this morning, before I drove over here, and Linnet sends her love, by the way. Anyway, JFK is open again, and Shane’s coming back to London tomorrow morning. On Concorde, and the company plane will be waiting to fly him to the airport at Yeadon.’ Evan gave him a shy smile, and finished, ‘It must be wonderful to have their kind of marriage. Linnet says they’re still in love after all these years.’
Robin looked at her keenly as he murmured, ‘Indeed it must. But you sound wistful, Evan. Are things not going right with you and Gideon?’
‘Yes, everything’s fine…’ Evan bit her lip, and then went on, ‘It’s just that…well, I think he’s still miffed because I hadn’t told my parents we’d got engaged.’
Robin sighed, and shook his head. ‘Men are such fools at times.
I know.
I’m a man, and I’ve been a fool myself many times in my life. I wish Gideon would just move on from this situation. You’re engaged, everyone knows it, including your parents. Now you and he should be planning your marriage, setting a date, not quarrelling.’
‘We’re not really quarrelling,’ Evan explained. ‘He’s just…snippy with me. And remote sometimes, distant. And quiet.’
‘Is he in Yorkshire this weekend?’
‘No. He felt he had to stay in London with his father and Toby. He said there’d be a lot of news breaking.’
‘Oh yes, he’s a true Harte, Gideon is, totally dedicated to his work, and that’s not a bad thing, I suppose. He’s a newspaperman through and through, of course, like Winston and my uncles.’
The two of them sat talking for a short while longer, and then finally Evan said, ‘I’m sorry about not being able to have lunch with you today, Robin, but Linnet and I are in the throes of planning her wedding, and I promised I’d work with her this afternoon.’
He smiled, and they both stood up. Robin took her arm, and they walked around the terrace to the area at the back of the house where she had parked her car. ‘I hope we can have lunch next weekend instead? When are you off to London?’
‘On Tuesday morning. To be with my parents for a couple of days before they go home. I’m coming back to work with India early on Friday, and I’ll be at the Leeds store on Saturday. How about lunch next Sunday?’
‘That’s splendid!’ he exclaimed, instantly looking more cheerful.
When they came to her car, he hugged her and kissed her cheek. ‘Perhaps Gideon can be induced to join us for lunch?’
‘Absolutely. I’ll make sure he comes.’ Opening the car door, she got in, rolled down the window. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured softly. ‘See you next weekend.’
‘It’s a date, my dear.’
Evan turned on the ignition and immediately frowned, puzzled, when the car did not start. She tried again with no success, and Robin looked in the car window and said, ‘Do you think you’ve flooded it?’
Evan shook her head. ‘No. It was flat.’
‘It’s more than likely the battery. This is one of Paula’s old cars, isn’t it? One of her ancient run-arounds she calls them.’
‘Yes, she always lets me use it. But I think it needs to go in for an overhaul.’
‘I tend to agree. Well, there’s no problem. You can borrow my Rover. It’s a perfectly good car.’
‘But won’t you need it?’ Evan asked, getting out of Paula’s slightly dilapidated Jaguar.
‘I have my favourite jalopy in the garage.’
‘Oh yes, your beautiful old Bentley Continental Drop Head Coupé. Circa 1960.’
‘Ah, so you
do
remember what I told you,’ he laughed, looking pleased.
‘I do. And you told me it has a fluid fly wheel and that’s why it has that special gearshift. I remember everything you tell me, Robin.’
‘But it’s not often girls commit to memory things about cars,’ he shot back, laughing again as he led her towards the garage.
Within seconds she had driven the Rover out onto the gravel driveway. ‘This is great, Robin!’ she exclaimed, leaning out of the window. ‘Thanks so much. I’ll return it tomorrow. Linnet or India will come in another car to take me back.’
‘There’s no problem at all,’ he called, waving as she slid forward towards the iron gates. ‘’Bye, my dear.’
Evan liked the feel of the Rover. It was solid, a substantial car and she found it easy to drive. It rolled along smoothly as she headed out of the tall gates of Lackland Priory and turned left on the road which led to the small hamlet of Lackland; beyond Lackland was the main road to Pennistone Royal. She sat back, enjoying the car, deciding she really liked these old models. There was something about them that was different. Maybe it was the sense of luxury, of times long gone that appealed. She really wasn’t sure what it was, but Paula felt the same way. They had once had a discussion about it, and Paula had told her that everyone in the family hung onto their old models. ‘Maybe out of a sense of thrift,’ Paula had said and had added, with a dry laugh, ‘but I doubt that.’ Even India drove an ancient Aston Martin that every male in the family drooled over and coveted. And Gideon had raved about Robin’s forty-year-old Bentley Continental.
When she came to the rim of the hill, Evan automatically put her foot on the brake gently. The hill was steep and the car had weight, and she felt the instant pull of gravity as she began to roll down, pressed her foot harder on the brake.
Nothing happened. Immediately she knew there was something wrong with the car. The brakes didn’t work! The car went hurtling down the hill, gathering speed, faster and faster; there was no way she could stop it.
Halfway to the bottom she saw the horse and cart come rumbling out of a side lane. Evan hit the horn hard.
The man sitting on the cart looked up the hill, saw her coming, but seemed unable to move. He was frozen in place in the middle of the hill.
Evan immediately understood that she had to swerve to avoid hitting the horse and cart, possibly even killing the man and the animal at the high speed she was going. Frantically, she pulled the wheel around with all of her strength, gritting her teeth, veering off to the right in a straight line. She saw the drystone wall too late. As it loomed up in front of her she knew she was doomed, that she would hurtle into the wall head-on. There was nothing she could do now to avert an accident.
Had somebody tampered with the brakes? she suddenly wondered. It was the last thing she thought.
Billy Ramsbotham sat on the cart, staring at the smashed-up car for only a split second, then he flicked the reins, made a clicking noise with his tongue, and went off down the rest of the hill hell for leather, heading for Lackland to get help.
But before he got there he saw Frazy Gilliger coming towards him on his bicycle and he flagged him down.
‘What’s up, Billy? You’re going licketysplit! Summat wrong?’ Frazy asked, noting the old man’s agitation.
‘Aye, there is. Up yonder, near bottom of t’hill, there’s a lass in a smashed-up car. It b’aint hard ter see it’s a Rover. Aye, it looks like Mr Ainsley’s Rover she’s gone and bunged up. And she’s in a right bad way, she is, poor lass.’
‘Oh my God, it must be Miss Evan!’ Frazy cried, and without another word to Billy he began pedalling up the hill towards Lackland Priory as hard as he could.
He was out of breath and panting as he cycled through the gates and around the back of the house. He leapt off the bicycle, threw it down haphazardly, and burst into the kitchen loudly and unceremoniously.
Bolton, the butler, was standing talking to Mrs Pickering, the cook, and he swung around, looking startled at the noise. ‘Good heavens, Frazy, what’s wrong, bursting in like this?’
‘It’s Miss Evan. She’s crashed the Rover. I saw it out of t’corner of me eye, but I didn’t stop ter look. I knew I had ter get here as quick as I could. Billy Ramsbotham saw her hit yon drystone wall, he’s sure she’s in a right bad way. Best phone for t’ambulance, Percy.’
‘Oh my God, yes!’ He turned to the cook. ‘Can you make the phone call, Maude? I’d best go and speak to Mr Ainsley. And ring the hospital in Ripon, not Harrogate. It’s closer and they’ve got an ambulance and paramedics. They’ll be able to treat her. If not, they’ll move her to Harrogate.’
‘I’ll do that right away, Percy,’ Cook said and hurried to the phone.
Bolton moved across the kitchen with great speed, and headed for the library. Within seconds he was relating Frazy’s story to Robin Ainsley.
Robin was standing near the window, and he reached out, held onto the back of the wingchair as he listened to the butler. His heart was thudding hard in his chest, and he thought his legs might buckle under him. He needed the support of the chair to steady himself.
‘Is she alive?’ he finally managed to ask.
‘I don’t know, sir. I’m going to nip down there right now. Cook is calling Ripon hospital for an ambulance.’
‘I’ll come with you, Bolton,’ Robin said.
‘Very well, sir.’ Bolton turned around and rushed off, followed by Robin, who thought his world had just been torn asunder. To lose this girl now when he had just found her was inconceivable. And for her to lose her life would be a tragedy, she who was so young and lovely and vital. He prayed she was not dead, prayed she was not badly hurt. Evan had everything to live for, a whole future ahead of her: a life with Gideon, a career at Harte’s, children…
As he followed his butler into the backyard Robin asked himself if someone had tampered with the car, the car he used more regularly than the Bentley. He knew Evan was an excellent driver and careful. So what had gone wrong? Why had she crashed on the hill?
It suddenly struck him that if the car had been tampered with, whoever had done it had been gunning for him, not her. He pushed these thoughts away, dreaded conjuring up the name that lingered at the back of his mind. No, he thought, he wouldn’t do that, surely not. Why would he try to kill me?
It took Bolton only a couple of minutes to drive to the scene of the accident. He wouldn’t allow Robin to alight, insisted he remained in the Bentley.
‘Let me go, Mr Ainsley,’ he said gently.
‘Please,
sir.’
‘All right then,’ Robin reluctantly agreed.
Bolton hurried over to the mangled Rover and peered in through the open window. He saw at once that Evan lay across the steering wheel at a strange angle, but her seat-belt was on, and this brought him a little comfort. He couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive, and then he heard her moaning, and his heart lifted. Turning, he ran back to give this news to Robin.
‘Miss Evan’s alive, sir!’ Bolton exclaimed. ‘I heard her moaning. I daren’t touch her, Mr Ainsley. We’ll just have to wait for the ambulance men to arrive to know more. They have the proper experience.’
‘Thank God she’s not dead,’ Robin responded, a great weight lifting. ‘And you’re right, I know it’s best not to move an injured person; damage can be done so easily by those who aren’t trained medics.’
Robin sat back against the car seat and began to breathe more normally. He closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer to the God he had long ago ceased to believe in, understanding, suddenly, how comforting this was in an overwhelming crisis. Believing in a higher omnipotent power could work miracles, somehow offered hope. He prayed for Evan’s recovery.
Bolton had gone back to the crash site near the wall, and he hovered about on the hill, returning to the car several times to check on Evan. He didn’t hear any more sounds from her and his belief that she was still alive began to waver. All was silent in the crashed Rover. He avoided Robin Ainsley, not wishing to be questioned by his employer. And then he suddenly heard sirens. He listened hard and his relief knew no bounds. A few minutes later the ambulance was speeding towards him.
Once the ambulance was parked, two ambulance men and a paramedic took over. After speaking to Bolton perfunctorily they began to study Evan and the car. Once they had discussed the problems, assessed the situation, she was lifted out carefully, put on a stretcher and taken to the ambulance.