Betsy needed no encouragement but looked, seeking permission, to Sage.
‘Thank you, Gammy. That’s a good idea.’ Sage began to formulate a plan. ‘I just need a moment to gather my wits.’ She gave her grandmother a meaningful look and Gammy nodded.
‘Good night, my boy!’ Santiago said, in one last attempt to control the narrative.
Hal, stifling a large yawn, allowed Betsy to take his small, sticky hand. Sliding slowly off his mother’s lap, he meekly went upstairs with his grandmother, his face still liberally smeared with crusted egg yolk and his cheeks shining with melted butter.Sage heard him say, quite clearly, ‘Papa is a bugger, isn’t he, Gammy?’ as he stumped up the stairs.
‘Why have you come?’ Dennis turned to look at Santiago, who had taken it upon himself to sit down at the table, opposite Sage.
‘I have come to fetch my wife and son and return them home to Panama,’ Santiago said, crossing his legs in an attempt to make himself comfortable.
Dennis stared at Sage.
‘You didn’t summon him.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘This is not what you want?’ He sounded incredulous but needed to make sure; he looked closely at his granddaughter.
‘No, Bumpa. I did not summon him. Someone –’ and at this, she glared at her grandfather – ‘I am guessing, has been in contact with my father, who decided to travel to Panama in order to thump this clod. Did you tell Dad that I came home with a black eye courtesy of him?’ Sage indicated Santiago with a nod of her head; she could hardly bear to look at her estranged husband.
Dennis had the good grace to look sheepish.
‘Well, I must admit I have been in contact with Dickie, yes. He has rung me up quite a lot since you came home – I must have spoken to him more in the last few weeks than I have in about fifteen years. If you must know, he has been building up the courage to get back in contact with you both. I wasn’t to tell you though, until you had got settled and he had managed to sort himself out once and for all.’ He knew he had owed Sage an explanation but he did not want to delve into it with Santiago intruding on their privacy.
‘Right. Well, I suppose that answers the question of whether or not Santiago was telling the truth. It does now seem to make some semblance of sense,’ Sage said.
Santiago was now tapping his foot in impatience. ‘Sage, I am not leaving here without you and Hal. And I am not making idlethreats – I will report your father to the police and sue for GBH if you do not go and collect your and Hal’s belongings.’ He had seen Sage with that man through the window; not that he was going to let on to anyone until it suited him.I will not be made a fool of. She’s mine.
Dennis, realizing the menace this man posed to his granddaughter, went cold. Painfully aware that he was too old to fight him, he reassured himself with the knowledge that with one shout he could summon an army of lads from the yard if he needed them.
‘I suggest you leave, Mr Deverill, or I will not be accountable for my actions.’ He spoke quietly but there was no mistaking the authority in his words.
‘No, it’s OK, Bumpa. I will go and have a drink with Santiago. I owe him a conversation.’ Sage’s overwhelming desire to get Santiago away from everyone she loved at North Place made her rash.
‘Sage, I can’t let you—’
‘Bumpa, it’s fine, really.’
Taking a shaky breath she said to Santiago, ‘I’ll meet you at the Bull – it’s a pub on the high street – in half an hour, after I’ve put Hal to bed. You can see him another time. OK?’ Santiago’s eyes widened; he was glad to see Sage capitulating so easily.
Sage followed Maggie into the larder. ‘Please go and ask Gammy to wrap Hal up warm and get a bag packed for both of us,’ she whispered. ‘I’m going to get him away from here.’ Maggie nodded solemnly. Sage returned to her grandfather, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen, still wearing his hat. She felt sick. She had to get Santiago away from her grandparents just as much as she needed to protect Hal.
‘You’d better be there, Sage.’ Santiago trailed a warm hand down her cheek. ‘I warn you …’
‘Santiago, be careful about making threats. Either to me,or towards my father, or my grandparents – you’d do well to remember all I’ve endured from your hands. Now I’m going up to Hal. I’ll see you at the pub in half an hour. I’ll be there.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back.
Sage followed him to the front steps; she watched him get into his expensive hire car and drive back down the gravel drive and out through the electric gates. Then she dashed back into the house.
She met Betsy carrying Hal through the hall and quickly put her finger to her lips; she did not want to go into any detail in front of the child. Hal was bundled up in a thick dressing gown and slippers and looked at her curiously as she took him gently from Betsy’s arms and hurried through to the boot room. Sage grabbed a woollen hat for Hal and placed it on his golden head. She took Dennis’s car key from Betsy, who looked distraught but stood with outstretched hand, the key offered up willingly on one finger, then loaded Hal into the Range Rover and sped off into the night.
Rafe was in the tack room and, hearing the car, came out to see who it was.
‘Oh, hello – I thought I was coming to collectyou,’ he said affectionately, his face lighting up when he saw Sage, but then he noticed her pale, worried face. ‘What’s happened? Is Hal all right?’
‘Everything is fine … sort of. I mean, no one is hurt,’ Sage said, but then remembering Santiago’s purple bruise, she started to laugh. It was a broken laugh, on the edge of hysteria, and Rafe put his arm around her.
‘Hey, what’s wrong? Come into the tack room, the fire is lit. It’s freezing out here. I’ll get you a stiff drink.’ He was anxious to provide comfort but, not knowing the cause of her anguish, was at a loss as to how to help.
‘I can’t. I have Hal asleep in the car. I didn’t want to turn onmy phone so I couldn’t tell you without coming here. I’m sorry. Santiago, my ex-husband – my soon to be ex-husband,’ she corrected herself, ‘is waiting for me in the Bull. But I’m not there!’
Rafe was confused. ‘Santiago is here? In Newmarket? I thought he lived in Panama.’
