True Colours (38 page)

Sebastian felt sick. He’d heard enough, turned to go inside, his hand on the still warm stone of the wall.

‘
Thanks. You’re doing a great job…’ Sebastian meant it, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘
Now what’s this?’

The other guard was bending down on the far side of what had been the Palm House door. He straightened up, something in his hand.

‘
Recognise this?’ he held it up. It was covered in a layer of grime. Sebastian didn’t have a clue what it was, he shook his head. The guard blew off a layer of ash and held it up again.

Caroline’s BlackBerry. Dear God. There was no question about it. Sebastian could see the rose gold surround glinting in the sun despite the layer of carbon.

‘
It’s Caroline’s.’ The words stuck in his throat as he spoke.

The guard deftly slipped it into a brown paper evidence bag.

FORTY FIVE

After the guards, the insurance assessor had arrived in a brand new BMW, silver, leather interior, his first words ‘Oh my God’ slipping out before he realised what he was saying. But despite his shiny suit and pink shirt, he’d moved quickly.

His mobile phone clamped to his ear, half-speaking to Sebastian, half to whoever was on the other end, he’d walked as he talked.

‘
Scaffolding. We need some steel props on this side of the building until we get some tests done on the stonework. The external walls look pretty solid but we can’t take any risk that they might collapse.’

Sebastian turned away from him, looked down towards the lake, the words giving him a physical pain. He was making the house sound like a disaster area, like there had been an earthquake, or a volcano had erupted. Well maybe it was a disaster zone, where the Palm House had been, charred beams lay as if they were trying to shield each other from the heat, the glass shattered, the whole structure unrecognisable as anything other than burnt matter, a thick layer of ash coating everything. Bitter. Acrid. Dead.

An hour after the insurance assessor, a squad of builders arrived in a flat-bed white truck, their foreman young, focused, standing back, rubbing his navy knitted hat, pulled low over cropped black hair. The rest of the gang – his father apparently and a couple of brothers plus about six more following in a Ford Transit van, set about their work quietly and efficiently, boarding the damaged windows, hauling the charred beams to one side, each one like a bone, it seemed to Sebastian, a precious part of the skeleton of the building, each one charred beyond recognition. And whatever about the insurance assessor’s insensitivity, Sebastian’s impression that he believed all old houses were potential firetraps, the builders seemed to understand that this was an old lady of a house and deserved some respect. You had to be thankful for small mercies.

‘
How’s it going?’

Sebastian jumped at the voice behind him, turned, his brow furrowed. Joss. She was the last person he’d expected to see here today, knew she would be up to her eyes keeping the office going, fielding the inevitable calls from journalists.

‘
What on earth are you doing here?’

Jocelyn looked at him, shaking her head like he was a cheeky child, pulling a face at him.

‘
I came down to see how you’re getting on, to make sure you’re okay. And before you ask the office is fine, everything’s under control for a couple of hours at least.’

Sebastian held up his hands in surrender and smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry. Honestly.’

He felt like hugging her. Almost did, stopping himself, one arm in the air. Embarrassed, he waved it like he had every intention of throwing out an expansive gesture. But Jocelyn threw him a consolatory smile, her eyes caring, concerned. She’d been around a long time, felt like giving him a hug herself. Maybe she would later.

‘
So, how can I help?’

Sebastian’s face was stoic, ‘Any good with a paintbrush?’

Jocelyn threw him a sympathetic smile ‘Show me.’

Sebastian paused before answering, searching her face. A strand of her hair fell from the knot on top of her head. She brushed it away.

‘
Well? What are we waiting for?’

‘
Are you sure you want to?’

Fighting to control a shaky breath, Jocelyn held out her hand to him. He grasped it, gave it a squeeze. He knew she was putting on a brave face, literally.

‘
It was a long time ago.’ The words caught for a moment, ‘Different place, different time. Can’t let my past interfere with your life too.’

Sebastian rolled his eyes, ‘Don’t be daft - but it’s pretty awful, and everything inside is covered in carbon from the smoke. I don’t want it to give you nightmares.’

A smile flicked across Jocelyn’s face like a bird flying in front of the sun, ‘I’ve already got those – maybe my imagination needs a bit of reining in with the real thing.’

Sebastian nodded, his face grim. His grandfather had met Jocelyn after a fire like this. Not a fire in a house, but in a warehouse he owned in Cherry Orchard on the outskirts of Dublin. A fire that had claimed the life of her husband, a fire officer who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, trapped when the building collapsed. She had been twenty-five, madly in love, her world shattered by his death. Guy Wingfield had been deeply impressed by her inner strength, by her dignity, by her ability to deal with her young son and the people around her, despite her grief. But, Sebastian knew, that sort of grief never went away. It didn’t get better – you just learned to live with it.

‘
The fire fighters managed to contain it to the Palm House. It’s a huge loss, but thank God the house is okay.’

Standing back, surveying the ruins, Jocelyn nodded, ‘Will you be able to restore it?’ She caught the grimace that crossed Sebastian’s face. It was a massive job.

‘
Should be able to. We have the original plans. And at least we’ll be able to get the glass no problem. When it was built there was only one glassworks in England that could make the panels in four-foot sections. The whole lot had to be brought in by boat.’ Sebastian grinned, reaching for the positive. ‘It’s not the end of the world. I always was a bit worried about the structure, that a pane could drop out of the roof and kill someone. But now we’ll be able to triple glaze it, reduce the oil bills. We might as well have been heating the valley the way the place leaked heat. If they had a thermal imaging camera out in Space they’d pick us out faster than the Great Wall of China. Come on, let’s get a cup of tea.’

Inside the hallway, the sound of their footsteps was softened by the thick layer of ash coating the beautiful marble tiles. In front of them, the Grand Staircase rose like a phoenix, coated in dirt but intact, untouched by the flames. Jocelyn looked around, digging her nails into the palm of her hand. The smoke had crept into every crevice like a cancer, the acrid smell coating her tongue, irritating the back of her throat. Trying to cover up, she said,

‘
Jackson rang, said New York’s in the bag.’

Sebastian glanced at her over his shoulder, ‘The guards said he was here last night. Had some papers or something.’

Jocelyn nodded, ‘He said he needed to get out of the city so came down for the spin, had some stuff for you to look at.’

‘
But he would have seen me in the office today.’ Sebastian looked at her, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Jocelyn shrugged, ‘I think he just needed to get out actually. You know he gets claustrophobic if he stays in the city too long.’

Sebastian nodded. Jackson had become an integral part of the organisation from the day he’d left the Marines, knew the business as well as his mother Jocelyn, had been brought in by her. And Jocelyn had been right about his skills as a negotiator, skills learned out in the field. But Sebastian had always been a bit worried about him, couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He’d always thought that the post-traumatic stress that had invalided him out of the service had affected Jackson more deeply than Jocelyn would admit. Being blown up and losing his team in Bosnia had to have had a massive effect, and in Sebastian’s book you had to keep an eye on anyone whose nickname was Peter Pan. Whatever regard Sebastian had for Jocelyn, he’d always been wary, hadn’t wanted any of his assets spirited away like Wendy and the Darlings or the Lost Boys. And something didn’t just ring true about Jackson Blake being down here last night. Caroline, Sebastian could understand after their row, but Jackson? Sebastian sighed inwardly, right now he was too tired to think about it. He’d have to ask Jackson himself when he saw him.

Unaware of Sebastian’s thoughts, Jocelyn continued, ‘You were very lucky.’

Sebastian rolled his eyes like he knew that only too well, ‘Thank God we were at the back of the house – the guest rooms overlook the lake.’

Jocelyn raised her eyebrows slightly and paused, wondering how she should phrase the question that had been consuming her since she had spoken to Sebastian in the hospital early that morning.

‘
And how did Alex end up staying the night? I didn’t quite get that bit this morning when you said you were both okay.’

Sebastian didn’t look at her, instead tried to change the subject,

‘
The builders are great. From Wexford apparently. Family business. I’ve never seen scaffolding go up so fast.’

Jocelyn nodded like she really wanted to hear all about the scaffolding but she didn’t say anything, let the silence grow until Sebastian glanced at her, anxiously, reaching for the right words. He couldn’t find them, instead opted for something offhand, more of an aside than a statement.

‘
She’d had a few glasses too many to drive, then she got a puncture.’

None the wiser, Jocelyn said with feeling: ‘Goodness. That was bad luck.’

Sebastian looked at her, caught her raised eyebrows, the question in her eye, realised she wasn’t going to ask, was waiting for him to tell her more.

‘
Thank God the staircase is okay.’

‘
Hmm. And what did Alex think of the place when she saw it? She must have been impressed.’

Sebastian shrugged, ‘I suppose. It hasn’t changed much since…’ he stopped himself.

He’d said too much and he knew it.

‘
Really, since?’

Sebastian looked at her, pursed his lips, ‘You’re worse than my mother.’

‘
Me?’ Mock innocence. ‘So tell me. I’m missing something, I’ve known it from the moment she walked into the office. Are you going to tell me?’

Sebastian paused, chewing his lip. Then exhaling, he opened his hands in an expansive gesture.

‘
There’s really no secret. She’s Tom Ryan’s daughter.’

She knew that. Jocelyn waited a moment longer. Sebastian cleared his throat. Then it came. ‘We used to know each other.’ He screwed the toe of his boot into the mess on the floor. ‘All right, we dated, sort of, the summer after I started Uni. But she left.’

Sebastian made it sound like it didn’t matter. But Jocelyn knew him better than that.

‘
What do you mean she left?’

Sebastian sighed. ‘She left. Disappeared off the face of the earth. Didn’t get in touch. Nothing. When she came to the office it was the first time I’d seen her in sixteen years.’

‘
But she was in Spain, studying wasn’t she?’

‘
Obviously.’

‘
Didn’t Tom tell you?’

‘
I think she must have sworn him to secrecy. I asked him a few times but he didn’t seem to know where she’d gone – to start with at least. I got over it.’ Like hell he did. Jocelyn looked at him quizzically, like she was reading his mind.

‘
And then she came back.’ Jocelyn’s voice was soft.

‘
That’s it. Then she came back.’ Sebastian stuck his hands in his pockets, like that was the end of the conversation, but Jocelyn wasn’t finished.

‘
And have you told her how you feel?’

‘
Feel?’ Sebastian looked at Jocelyn like she had grown a horn, or maybe a bow and arrow and wings.

Jocelyn shook her head in despair.

Why was he so stubborn? He was just like his grandfather.

‘
Well you’re in love with her aren’t you?’ Sebastian blushed bright red. Ignoring his discomfort, Jocelyn barrelled on, ‘It’s as plain as the nose on your face…. You’ll have to tell her. If she’s not interested that’s one thing, but at least you’ll have tried. You don’t get many chances in this life to fall in love, not really in love, to find your soul mate. Trust me, I know. You’ve got to tell her.’

Sebastian screwed up his face, looked like he was about five years old, had been ticked off by his teacher for kissing the girls. Then, stubbornly, he tried to defend himself, ‘I did…nearly.’

‘
Well done. So do it properly. Ring her now and tell her.’

‘
Has anyone ever told you how bossy you are?’

She smiled, ‘Frequently; so…?’

‘
Her mobile’s going straight through to her voicemail. I tried it this morning when they hooked the phone back up,’ Several times.

‘
Perhaps she left it in the car. Why don’t I drop it over to her and then you can ring her. She’s probably been trying to get hold of you.’

Sebastian nodded, his mind back in the bedroom if only the bloody fire hadn’t started, not really listening to Jocelyn – certainly not listening closely enough to wonder how she knew where Alex’s mobile might be, or how she was planning to get it back to her.