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Tomorrow would be Saturday and the builders did not come at the weekend, but on Monday morning they were due to start the walkway and construction of the flat where she and Crystal would live. She found she had mixed feelings about this. One, because it would be strange to be living in Seacrest but separate from it, too. Two, once this last section of the project was finished she would have to fulfil her part of the bargain and become a fully fledged hotelier and she didn’t know how she would take to it. Certainly she would be dancing attendance on the guests and her life would not be her own in the same way it had been. Three, with her working all hours and Rafe halfway across the world, she was frightened he would begin to cool in his affections. And what if the hotel didn’t succeed? What if she and Crystal failed miserably? That would put a strain on her and Rafe’s relationship, too.
She went to sleep worrying and woke up worrying, and when she came in from doing some weeding in the garden she had put off for weeks she could have cried when she realised she hadn’t had her mobile with her and had missed a call from Rafe. She listened to his deep smoky voice but it sounded different, somehow, coming from all those miles away. He was obviously at some meeting or restaurant or other because there was a hubbub in the background and laughter now and again.
‘Hi, Marianne. It’s Rafe. I’m sorry you’re not able to pick up because this is the last time I’ll be able to phone over the weekend. Just to let you know they’ve discovered the father apparently left a cigarette burning—in a non-smoking hotel.’ The last had been grim but he went on, ‘Obviously the poor guy paid for his mistake big time. He’s going to pull through, by the way, and the kids are fine now and home with their mother. Look, the builders won’t be coming back on Monday. I thought I’d better let you know. Don’t worry about it though, it’s all in hand.’
Marianne’s brow wrinkled as she stared at her mobile. Not coming? But why hadn’t they contacted her? Why Rafe, who was on the other side of the world? That didn’t make sense. In fact, thinking about it, it was damn insulting.
She didn’t have time to ponder further because he went on, ‘Just let everything remain as it is until I’m back and then I can sort it, OK?’ And then she heard it. Distinctly. A woman’s throaty laugh and then a voice saying, ‘Rafe? Aren’t you done yet? Come on, darling. I’m absolutely starving.’
There was a muffled sound next as though he had put his hand over the phone, and then his voice came again, saying, ‘I have to go but I’m hoping to be back the middle of next week. We can talk then and I’ll explain—’ He paused, clearly thinking better of what he had been about to say. ‘We can talk then,’ he said again. ‘Bye, sweetheart.’
His voice had softened on the last two words, becoming warm and silky, but he could have yelled them for all the good it did. He was with a woman. She stared at the phone and nearly threw the offending article at the window. He had phoned her while he was with a woman. She felt sick, her stomach churning so badly she had to sit down on the sofa. And what had he meant about the explaining bit? There had been something odd about it and she wasn’t imagining it.
Her heart thudding so hard it threatened to jump out of her chest and her ears ringing, she sat for some minutes trying to compose herself. Think, think, she told herself. She could be letting her mind run away with itself here. That woman—she didn’t have to be a date. She could be…her thinking process hiccuped and then went on…a business colleague or something of that sort. It was possible. It was—it was possible. Oh, God, please let it be, she prayed desperately. Please, please don’t let him be with her. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.
She sat in numb misery for some time, the lunch she had come in to prepare forgotten. She had to trust him. That was what you did if you loved someone. She couldn’t think the worst of him. He had been so genuine that morning he had called to see her and said he wanted to give them a chance.
But what if the last weeks hadn’t meant the same to him as they had to her? What if the pull of his old life was stronger? They had laughed together, walked together, visited a hundred different places and talked deeply about their lives, but never once had he said the words she had been longing to hear. That he loved her. But then she had known he was a man who did not betray his feelings easily at the best of times, and yet he had opened up to her in a way she knew he hadn’t to anyone else. He wasn’t that good an actor that he could have fooled her on that point.
She chewed her thumb nail down to the quick and then fixed herself a sandwich before returning to the weeding. The sky was blue, the air warm and birds were twittering happily as they sunned themselves in the trees surrounding the garden. Crazy, but she wished it was raining. She wished there was a gale force wind blowing and everything was dank and gloomy. She wouldn’t feel so at odds with her surroundings then.
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nbsp; She continued to mull over the conversation with Rafe for the next hour, after which she came to a decision. She had the foreman’s mobile number for emergencies. She would give him a ring and at least find out what was happening to prevent them keeping to the plan. That hadn’t seemed right. There had definitely been something in Rafe’s voice that she couldn’t place.
He answered straight away and when she explained the reason for her call there was a blank silence on the other end of the phone for some moments. Just when she was about to speak, he said, ‘Have you spoken to Rafe about this, love?’
‘I told you, he said you weren’t going to come but it was all in hand and he’d deal with it when he got back. I can’t understand why you didn’t ring me, George, and furthermore I think I’m entitled to an explanation. Have you got problems on another job? Is that it? I’d like to think you know I would be reasonable and—’
‘Look, love, it wasn’t me who rang Rafe but the other way round.’
‘What?’ She frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘He rang and said he wanted us to hold our horses for a few days. That’s as much as I know, all right? He said he’d cover it financially when I pointed out we’d got an agreement, but he was adamant he didn’t want any more work doing on the house till he’d spoken to me in person. I asked him if he was dissatisfied with our work and he said no, it wasn’t anything like that. And then that was it.’ He paused. ‘Rum going on, if you ask me.’
Marianne agreed. It was a rum going on.
‘Does the old un, his dad, know what’s going on?’ George said after a second or two.
‘I don’t know.’ She hadn’t wanted to bother Andrew—he was already so worried about the problem in America—but now she felt she had to. ‘I’ll get in touch with him.’
‘You do that, love. And you might point out we’ve another job after yours and we can’t put it back by much. He’s paying us to stand round kicking our heels the way I see it, and each day we don’t work is a day lost.’ George had a habit of stating the obvious.
Marianne changed out of her grubby jeans and top into a light cotton dress after she had washed her hands, brushing her hair through. She decided to walk to the cottage and as she passed the spot where she and Rafe had talked that momentous night she felt a slight chill in the breeze which hadn’t been there the day before. September was upon them and the summer was nearly over, she thought with a shiver which had nothing to do with the weather.
When she reached the cottage it was to find Andrew dozing in a deckchair in the garden after his lunch and Crystal busy baking in the kitchen. Rather than wake Andrew, she sat with Crystal in the kitchen, the delicious smell of homemade bread filling the room. Crystal was the only person she knew who made all her own bread and pastry.
‘He’s done what?’ Crystal stopped what she was doing and stared at her in amazement when Marianne explained the reason for her visit. ‘Well, I’m sure Andrew knows nothing about it or he would have said.’
‘I can’t understand it, Crystal. And he was…strange. It was an odd phone call altogether, to be honest. He…he had a woman there with him.’
‘A woman?’ Crystal’s eye sharpened on Marianne’s troubled face. ‘Someone who works for him, you mean? A business colleague?’
Marianne shrugged. ‘She called him darling.’
‘Oh, Annie.’ Crystal sat down very suddenly on one of the kitchen stools. ‘Andrew said—’ She stopped abruptly.
‘What?’ Marianne stared at her. ‘What did Andrew say?’
