Unexpected Blessings (49 page)

‘Who is she?’ the driver who had remained behind now asked Bolton.

‘Evan Hughes, Mr Robin Ainsley’s granddaughter,’ he explained.

‘Of Lackland Priory?’

‘Yes, that’s correct. Is she alive?’

The driver nodded. ‘Yes, she is. But we’ve got to get her to the hospital. At once. We can’t tell what condition she’s in.’

‘Thank God she’s not left us. We’ll follow you to Ripon.’

‘See you there,’ the driver replied, and ran back to the ambulance.

It was Bolton who drove the Bentley to the hospital; once he had parked the car, he accompanied Robin into the waiting room, and refused to leave him alone. They sat together, not saying anything, waiting for the news from the doctor. After a few minutes had passed, Robin realized he must let Linnet know what had happened to Evan, since she had been expected back to lunch.

‘Do you have the mobile phone, Bolton?’ he asked, turning to the butler.

‘I do, sir, yes. Here it is.’

Robin dialled Pennistone Royal, and it was Linnet herself who answered. After telling her what had transpired, he added swiftly, ‘But Evan is alive, Linnet. However, we don’t know the extent of her injuries at the moment.’

‘I shall drive right over, Uncle Robin.’

‘No, no, it’s not necessary. You can’t do anything, and I’ll stay in touch with you, I promise.’

‘I don’t want you to be alone,’ Linnet told him firmly. ‘I’m coming, so don’t try to stop me. I’ll let Mummy know. She’s at the Harrogate store. See you in about half an hour.’

‘All right then,’ he acquiesced, knowing it was futile to argue with her. If anyone was like his mother it was Linnet. She was another Emma, and once she’d made up her mind to do something there was no stopping her.

Half an hour after this conversation, Dr Gibson came out to see Robin, and much to his relief he noted a smile on the doctor’s face.

‘Good morning, Mr Ainsley,’ the doctor said. ‘I’ve examined Miss Hughes, and she’s going to be all right. She’s suffering from shock, of course, and she has a broken rib, a broken ankle, and a lot of bruising to her arms and legs. But as far as I can ascertain, there are no internal injuries. And I know you’ll be relieved to hear she hasn’t lost the baby. She’s a very lucky young woman: her injuries could have been much worse. She could have so easily miscarried. It’s a miracle she didn’t.’

Robin was an old man now and hardly anything ever shocked him. But he had to admit to himself that he was surprised to hear Evan was pregnant. He had judged her as being practical and cautious, and he wondered how she had allowed this to happen before marriage to Gideon. And then, with a quick intake of breath, it struck him that she might have done it on purpose. To bring the situation with Gideon to a head? He just wasn’t sure. He didn’t think of her as devious, not at all. All he knew was that he loved this young woman and he was delighted she was pregnant, that she was carrying his great-grandchild.

The doctor opened the door, showed Robin into a small private room, and disappeared. Evan was lying propped up, wearing a white hospital gown. She looked pale, exhausted, and was still slightly dazed, coming out of shock. There was a large bruise on her cheek, and he realized she was in pain when she tried to move her body, and instantly winced.

As Robin walked over to her, she muttered in a faltering, strained voice, ‘I’m sorry about the car.’

‘That doesn’t matter, Evan dear. All that matters is that you are alive. You could have been killed, you know.’ Leaning over her he kissed her forehead, then took her hand in his. ‘Are you able to tell me what happened? Or is that too much of an effort?’

‘The brakes failed…on the hill. No control of the car.’ She took a breath and added weakly, ‘The horse and cart appeared. Swerved to avoid them.’

Robin was silent for a moment, and then he gave her a questioning look, asked, ‘Do you think the brakes simply failed because the car is old? Or because they’d been tampered with?’

‘I don’t know…’

He shook his head, a grim look tightening his mouth as he said in a low voice, ‘The Rover is kept in good condition. I’ll have my garage check the brakes, but perhaps the police might want to do that themselves.’

Evan sighed, looked at him, but remained silent, not wanting to mention the name hovering in the back of her mind.

‘I telephoned Linnet,’ Robin went on. ‘She’s driving over.’ Pulling a chair over to the side of the bed, he explained, ‘They’re going to throw me out of here in a moment, they’ve got to put a cast on your leg. It must be painful, isn’t it?’

She nodded, feeling suddenly weak.

He said quietly, ‘Evan, the baby’s perfectly all right. Dr Gibson told me.’

Taken aback, she gaped at him, and colour rose from her neck to fill her cheeks with a bright pink blush. She finally said in a low voice, ‘Please don’t tell anyone I’m pregnant.’

‘Of course I won’t. How does Gideon feel about the baby?’

‘He doesn’t know.’

‘Why haven’t you told him?’

‘Don’t want it to influence him…about our future.’

‘I understand. Whether you two marry or not is your business, my dear, but I just want you to know that I will be there for you and my great-grandchild no matter what.’

Evan’s eyes brightened and she gave him a faint smile. ‘Thank you.’

There was a sudden loud knocking on the door, and Robin called ‘Come in.’

A moment later Linnet was hurrying over to the bed, exclaiming, ‘I’ve been scared to death all the way over here, Evan! Whatever happened?’ She took Evan’s hand in hers, staring at her in concern.

‘The brakes failed,’ Robin explained. ‘It was nice of you to come, Linnet. Thank you.’

Linnet smiled at Robin, and turned back to Evan. Pushing back thoughts of Jonathan Ainsley and his dangerous vendetta against them all, she said, ‘Are your injuries very bad?’

‘Broken rib, broken ankle,’ Evan whispered. ‘Getting a cast.’

‘Thank God it’s nothing worse,’ Linnet said.

Dusty Rhodes stepped out of the lift onto the fifth floor of Harte’s department store in Leeds. He glanced around, understanding immediately why India Standish’s secretary had told him to be careful, that the floor was undergoing remodelling. And indeed it was. The floor was roped off, and he had to walk around the roped-off area to find a way to get to India.

He could see her in the distance, in the middle of the floor, dressed in beige cotton trousers and a beige cotton blouse, clipboard in hand, tortoise-shell glasses pushed up on top of her bright blonde head. Normally casually chic in the latest styles, she was much more workmanlike this afternoon in her understated outfit. But he understood how practical it was, and she was nothing if not practical. There were piles of rubble everywhere and obviously a minor demolition job was in progress.

India was talking to two workmen, looking concerned, and for a split second he hesitated. He had not seen her for several weeks and he needed to speak to her. Having parted on a sour note he was certain she would not take his phone call, so he had come here instead.

After a moment he decided to brave it, to plunge ahead, and so he stepped over a pile of planks, avoided a wheelbarrow and buckets of plaster and moved towards her.

It was one of the workmen who spotted him first, and his face lit up. ‘Hey, Dusty, how’re yer?’ the man asked, his smile wide, his light green eyes suddenly sparkling. ‘Long time no see, mate.’

Before Dusty could answer, India swung around to face him, surprise flickering on her face, but only momentarily. She was good at hiding her feelings, and instantly became poker-faced again.

‘Hello India,’ he said.

‘Dusty,’ she answered, inclining her head.

Looking past her, he addressed the workman. ‘It’s Jackie Pickles, isn’t it?’

The man grinned. ‘Yer’ve got that right, Dusty. So yer remember our old school, do yer?’

Nodding, Dusty laughed. ‘I do indeed. Christ Church C of E, in Theaker Lane, Upper Armley.’

‘Lotta water under t’bridge since then,’ Jackie said. And glancing at the man next to him, he added, ‘I bet yer don’t remember Harry Thwaites, do yer, Dusty?’

‘I certainly do. Hello, Harry, last time I saw you was at West Leeds High School, right?’

Harry Thwaites smiled. ‘Long time ago, Dusty. I’m a married man now. With a couple of kids.’

India, who had been paying great attention to this little exchange between the three men, now said, ‘You wanted to talk to me, Dusty, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’ But again looking past her he said to Jackie, ‘What’s the problem here? Those steel girders, I’ll bet.’

‘Correct. Lady India’s sketches for this area don’t show them. Because we didn’t know they were there. We found ’em when we knocked a wall down. It’s a problem.’

‘Show me the sketches, India, please,’ Dusty said, glancing at her. ‘I studied architecture.’

Handing him the sketches, she said, ‘Yes, I know. I’d like them to be removed.’

Dusty stared at the sketches, walked over to the floor-to-ceiling beams, looked around the area, and then he said, ‘I’ll bet my bottom dollar these steel pillars are supporting the ceiling, which is also the floor above.’

Harry Thwaites said, ‘That’s what we thought…they can’t be removed.’

Gazing at India, Dusty explained, ‘Take these out, your ceiling will fall down and the floor above will be weakened. You’ll have to incorporate them into your new scheme somehow. There’s no other way.’

The two workmen were beaming at him.

India looked annoyed with him, and then suddenly a resigned expression settled on her face. ‘Okay then, that’s it.’ Turning to the two men, she said, ‘Please excuse me for a few minutes. I’ll be back shortly. Maybe you want to take your tea break?’

‘Thanks, Lady India,’ they said in unison as they gave Dusty another grin and moved away.

‘You’re sure I can’t move the beams?’

‘Well, you can move them,’ Dusty replied, ‘but
I
wouldn’t. It’ll be a disaster.’

‘I understand,’ she replied, and glanced up at him, added, ‘This is a surprise. Why did you come looking for me?’

Running into the two men he had gone to school with, having the discussion with them about the beams, had somehow broken the ice, and Dusty felt quite relaxed as he answered, ‘First to apologize and secondly to try and explain…about Melinda and Atlanta.’

‘Let’s go up to my office, we can talk there for a while.’

‘Thanks, India.’

They rode up to the seventh floor in silence.

When they came to her office, India opened the door, and said in a very brisk, cold tone, ‘Well, come in. Let’s talk. But I haven’t got long.’

‘This won’t take long.’ Dusty closed the door behind him, knowing she was not going to be very forgiving.

India went and stood behind her desk. His arrival had startled her, thrown her off balance, but the chit-chat between her carpenters and Dusty had given her time to recover her equilibrium. Much to her surprise she discovered she was now calm. And she had to admit to herself that she had missed him, had longed to go to him. She was still in love with him; he haunted her days.

Dusty looked well, she decided, but there were dark rings under his eyes. He was tired. She suddenly understood that he had more than likely buried himself in his painting to counterbalance his unhappiness about her, and her defection.

Hovering in front of her desk, Dusty exclaimed heatedly, ‘Look, I admit I was pretty bloody stupid. I should have told you about my child when I came out of hospital, when I explained who Melinda was. I was embarrassed, though, and in a blue funk. Also, I’m not used to discussing my private life with anyone.’

‘I know that,’ India said. She sat down in the chair, motioning for him to be seated also.

He took the chair on the other side of her desk, and continued. ‘I never confide in anyone. I’m a loner, independent, you know that. I’ve never ever made a commitment to anyone, I mean to a woman, and I vowed long ago never to get married. To be honest, until you walked out on me that day, I actually didn’t understand how I really felt about you.’

She gave him a long hard stare and snapped, ‘At least you’re honest. What you’re saying, Dusty, is that I was just another woman passing through your life, that you saw no reason to share your past with me. Correct?’

‘In a way, I suppose. But not quite…You see, I did
know
I was hooked on you, although perhaps I didn’t understand how much. I respected you, India, and I looked up to you. I realized all those things that afternoon, but I was also confused, self-conscious and I didn’t know how to explain that she and I had a child.’

‘I would have understood, and that’s why I was so upset. You underestimated me, and you didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry for that. I’m an idiot.’

‘Well, it was nice of you to come and apologize.’ She stood up. ‘I’ve got to get back to–’

‘India, there’s something else I need to tell you,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘I have always supported Melinda, her mother Mrs Caldwell, and Atlanta. And I pay Melinda’s medical bills.’

She nodded, began to edge around the desk, anxious to return to work.

‘I just wanted you to know this.’

‘Why didn’t you two get married?’ India asked, suddenly wanting now to know more.

‘I wasn’t in love with her. Actually, we broke up before she knew she was pregnant.’

‘I see.’

Dusty walked towards the door, realizing there was no point continuing the discussion. He felt depleted, worn out. He had told her the truth about Melinda, and there was nothing else to say. She was not in the mood to hear his pleas, his declarations of love.

India said, ‘When did she get hooked on drugs?’

‘Just after Atlanta was born. Thank God for that at least.’ He opened the door, turned around, gave her a faint smile. ‘Well, that’s it, I guess–’ His throat felt constricted, and he was amazed when he realized he was choked up, on the verge of tears. How stupid he was.

India felt herself growing panicky as Dusty walked out. She couldn’t let him go. She loved him so much. Now was her chance to make everything right between them. Moving around the desk, she exclaimed, ‘Dusty, wait! Please don’t leave!’