Saving Willowbrook (25 page)

Whichever avenue Ella pursued, it'd mean Miles's financial details being revealed. And he didn't like the idea of that, not at all.

After thanking his cousin, he set the phone down and poured himself a shot of whisky, downing it in one. He wasn't cashed up at the moment and really needed his investment money back from Ella if he was to keep up appearances till he settled in with DevRaCom. It was shocking what it cost for even a small luxury car.

Something else occurred to him and he cursed. If she did get maintenance awarded, how the hell was he going to pay his own mortgage? He was juggling payments as it was. This place might be small, but it'd been damned expensive and he'd not had much of a deposit to put down, so he was paying a big chunk of his income each month. And his bloody father was no help.

Well, the bitch wasn't getting away with this. He'd been very patient about his investment, but she'd managed perfectly well without maintenance for the past three years and could continue to do so. What he earned was for himself, not for wasting on a child.

Another shot of whisky then he settled down to think hard. He had to put a stop to this once and for all. He wasn't working his butt off to pour money into Ella's purse. No way.

And he wasn't going to let her sabotage this project as she had the other one.

He'd do whatever it took to push that sale through. Short of murder and other indictable offences, of course.

Oliver was waiting for Rose when she finished her evening shift at the hotel.

She looked at him warily. ‘I'm tired.'

‘Don't you want to hear about your cousin?'

‘Ella? What about her?'

He explained.

‘I have to go out there and help. She—'

‘She has two perfectly good helpers.' He explained. ‘How about a coffee?'

Rose hesitated. ‘I'm not sure it's wise.'

‘I'm sure it is. I'm not going away this time.'

‘Do you have a better solution to our dilemma? Because I don't.'

‘I'm working on that.' He pulled her into his arms. ‘Besides, I've found out what happened to that letter I wrote.'

‘Tell me.'

‘Over a coffee.'

‘That's blackmail.'

He grinned. ‘Yeah. Neat one, isn't it? You're dying to know.'

She pretended to hit him, then allowed him to take her hand and walk back to the flat with her.

There was a parcel outside the door, badly wrapped, the paper coming off. Rose moved to pick it up, but Oliver kept hold of her arm. ‘Don't. The post office doesn't deliver at night.'

She gaped at him. ‘You don't mean – you think it might be dangerous? In Chawton?'

‘Probably not. But wherever you are, it pays to be vigilant, especially when there are anomalies. Who brought this, do you think?'

She shook her head.

‘Let me find something to turn it over with. There's an old hoe in the storeroom that they use to weed the garden here. Do not go near that parcel.' He got out his keys and was back with the hoe, which he used to turn the parcel over gingerly.

There was a soft whoofing sound and the parcel exploded. Oliver threw Rose to the ground and covered her body with his, lying there till he realized it was pieces of coloured paper which had fluttered out of the parcel not bomb fragments. He helped her up, a grim expression on his face, and got out his mobile phone.

‘Who are you calling?'

‘The police.'

‘But – it was only a practical joke.'

‘Not funny. Whoever did this wanted to worry you. And they've certainly worried me. Ah, Bill. Glad it's you on night duty. Can you come over to the rear of the surgery? Yes, straight away. There was a suspicious package and it exploded. No, not a bomb, a practical joke. But I don't happen to think it's funny. If it had been one of our elderly patients who found it, it could have given them a heart attack. Yes, we'll be here. Me and Rose, who's renting the flat. The parcel was addressed to her.'

As he put the phone away, Rose flung her arms round him. Not averse, he held her close. ‘What's brought this on?'

‘You covered me with your body, Oliver. You were willing to get hurt to protect me.' She put her hands round his neck and drew his head closer for a quick kiss on each cheek. ‘I can't believe this is happening, but I'm glad you're with me tonight.'

He smiled at her. ‘Me, too. We'd better not go inside. I don't want to disturb anything.'

‘I bet it's that stupid Brett Harding. His idea of a joke.'

‘If it is, he'll be in serious trouble. People don't play that sort of trick these days. Terrorism is all too close to everyone's mind.'

They were still standing there when the police arrived.

Bill stared round at the confetti-like paper, and the torn wrapping from the box that had exploded. He questioned them, though there wasn't much more to add, then said quietly, ‘I'm calling the detectives out on this. You're right. It could have given someone a heart attack. Better not go up to your flat till the detectives have been, Rose.'

‘We can go into the surgery,' Oliver said. ‘I could make us all a cup of coffee.'

‘Good idea. Night duty always makes me thirsty,' Bill said briskly.

The detectives took it just as seriously.

‘Designed to frighten someone,' one of them said grimly. ‘As you say, not funny. And I don't think it was intended to be funny. Have you upset anyone lately, Ms Marwood?'

She frowned.

‘Brett Harding,' Oliver said. ‘We saw him in the restaurant and if looks could kill, she'd have expired on the spot.'

‘Don't mention him to anyone. We'll take the parcel away and get a few photos, then you can go into your flat again.'

After they'd gone, Rose swallowed hard. ‘I don't want to be on my own tonight, Oliver. I don't want to make love, I just need you here.'

‘I'll stay.'

Ella stayed in bed for the rest of the day. She hadn't intended to do that, but she fell asleep, surfacing once to hear Stephanie and her daughter chatting happily together nearby. She trusted her ex-mother-in-law, so snuggled down in bed, just for a little longer.

She woke in the dark, feeling disoriented. What time was it?

She gasped when she saw the clock. Ten thirty. How could she possibly have slept so long?

As she was getting out of bed, she stumbled and fell against the dressing table.

There were sounds from downstairs and the landing light went on. Footsteps ran lightly up and Cameron appeared in the doorway.

She pushed past him. ‘I have to go to the bathroom.'

When she got back, he was waiting.

‘Back to bed, my love.' He pulled the covers back.

‘I'm ravenous.'
My love?
Had he said that or had she just imagined it?

‘Being hungry is a good sign. Stephanie has left you a few bits and pieces, including a vegetable soup that's delicious. But I can get you something else if you don't fancy that.'

She climbed into bed and slid down with relief. ‘Vegetable soup sounds wonderful. I'm feeling a lot better now.'

‘Yeah, tell that to the fairies. You're as white as a sheet and don't think I didn't hear you coughing in the bathroom just now. I'm not deaf.'

He was gone before she could answer. When he came up with the tray, she'd managed to brush her hair and was sitting up against the pillows, secretly glad not to have to get up.

As she ate, he sat quietly in the old armchair by the window, not interrupting but obviously keeping an eye on her.

As soon as she'd finished, he came across to take the tray. ‘Can I get you anything else?'

She yawned. ‘No, thanks. I can't believe it, but I'm feeling sleepy again.'

‘That's good. Sign of healing. Look, before you fade on me again, is it all right if I sleep in one of the spare bedrooms here? It'll be easier for Stephanie if I can keep an eye on you and leave her to look after Amy and run the B and B side of things.'

‘I'm getting up tomorrow.'

‘You can try, but I think I'm stronger than you are.'

‘We'll see. And of course you can sleep here. Take the room next to this.'

He tucked her in, smiling down at her and somehow her hand was in his for a moment or two.

‘How many bedrooms do you have in the farmhouse?' he asked to prolong the moment.

‘Six on this floor, four or five attic bedrooms as well.'

‘It's an amazing place. No wonder you love it.'

He watched her yawn and snuggle down. When her eyes had stayed closed for a while, he left the room, stopping abruptly on the landing because he thought he'd seen a woman at the far end. But when he blinked, the figure vanished. It must be the moonlight playing tricks.

He ran downstairs and fetched up his bits and pieces. For some reason he didn't understand, it felt good to be sleeping in the house. As if he belonged here. Or perhaps it was because he was closer to Ella here.

Had she noticed that he'd called her ‘my love'? It'd slipped out. She'd shown no reaction. She probably hadn't noticed.

He grinned in the darkness. He was a sad case! Trying to chat up a woman who was too sick to respond.

But her hand had felt right in his. Warm and trusting.

When Rose woke up, Oliver was lying beside her on top of the covers. ‘So much for keeping my distance from you,' she said with a wry smile, making no attempt to disentangle herself.

‘I didn't want to keep my distance. I'm glad we're together again.'

‘We are?'

‘Looks like it.' He cuddled even closer, his warm breath fanning her cheek. ‘And this time we'll find a way to resolve our differences.'

‘I'd like that.'

‘Can I move back in?'

She hesitated. ‘Isn't that rushing things a little?'

‘No. Apart from anything else, I'm not having you here on your own while that fool is trying to upset you. Who knows what he'll do next?'

‘Why me? He's the one who knocked down my house. I did nothing to him.'

‘He's an alcoholic. His brain's muddled. It'll be a while before he pulls clear of that – if he ever does.'

She sighed. ‘My money is on Mr Harding Senior. He's got everything else he wanted in life, one way or the other. When he realizes how serious Brett's drinking is, he'll sort his son out.'

‘I hope you're right. But I'm still taking no chances with your safety. Brett Harding's mixed up with some bad 'uns. I've seen them drinking together.'

‘That's not the reason I want you to move in.'

He traced a line down her cheek with his forefinger. ‘I know. I love you, too. That's the main reason.'

Since Ella was asleep, Stephanie decided that Amy should have the rest of the week off school. It was only two days, after all.

She said she needed a junior assistant to help her run the guest house and after being allowed to peep in and see the unusual sight of her mother sleeping during the daytime, the little girl followed her grandmother downstairs.

‘You'll have to tell me where everything is and what your mother gives guests for breakfast. I don't know what time that couple in number three wants to eat.'

‘Mum writes it down on their card.' Amy went across to the pigeon holes. ‘Half past eight.'

‘Good. We've got time to sort it all out, then.'

With many giggles at her grandma's ignorance of how things were done, Amy helped get ready, turning to beam at Cameron when he joined them.

‘I peeped in and your mother's still asleep.'

‘I'll take up some fruit juice and leave it by the bed,' Stephanie said.

They ate together, as near a real family as Cameron had known for a while, although they were almost strangers. He found Amy's grandmother easy to chat to and both of them enjoyed the comments of the child, while Amy was clearly relishing their attention.

That child's as hungry for family life as I am, Cameron thought.

When the guests arrived for breakfast, Stephanie went to explain to them what had happened and crave their indulgence over any mistakes she might make as their stand-in hostess.

After they'd finished eating, they said they'd be out for the day, but would enjoy an evening meal here again, if that was all right, given the circumstances.

‘No problem. I do know how to cook.' Stephanie waved them goodbye and returned to the kitchen. ‘I'll have to check what's in the freezer. We gave them that casseroled steak last night. It ought to be something different tonight, maybe chicken.'

In the end, she decided to do a little shopping and leave Cameron and Amy to keep an eye on Ella, who was still sleeping.

As she was on her way out, the phone rang. ‘I'll get it.'

‘I'd like to book a chalet for a couple of nights, starting tonight,' a man's voice said.

‘Certainly. May I take your name?'

‘Peter Smith.'

‘And will you require an evening meal?'

‘Do you do those as well as the B and B?'

‘Oh, yes.'

‘Why not? Save me going out again. I'll be arriving in the early afternoon.'

She put the phone down and smiled at Cameron. ‘A booking for a couple of nights.'

‘Do you think we should keep on taking bookings?' He looked meaningfully upwards towards where Ella was lying then back at her.

‘Yes, I do. I think Ella needs rest more than anything, and if we start turning people away, she'll start worrying about money. Now, this time I really am off.'