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‘You needed my help, of course I stepped in.’ He paused. ‘I wish you’d called, Pol. Told me what was going on. I didn’t mind but it would have been good if we had worked together, sorted it out together.’
‘After four years? I couldn’t,’ she admitted, heading over to the fridge so that she didn’t have to face him. ‘You stayed away, Raff. You went away, left me behind and you didn’t come back. Ever.’ She swallowed painfully. ‘I didn’t even know whose side you were on—if you had spoken to Grandfather, knew what he was planning, if you wanted Rafferty’s.’ That had been her worst fear, that her twin had colluded with her grandfather.
Raff sounded incredulous. ‘Surely you didn’t think I would agree? That I would take Rafferty’s away from you?’
‘Grandfather made it very clear that nothing I had done, nothing I could do was enough to compete with your Y chromosome.’ She turned, forced herself to meet the understanding in his eyes. ‘It destroyed me.’
Raff winced. ‘Polly, I spent three months running Rafferty’s while you were gone and I hated every minute of it. How you manage I don’t know. But even if I had come back and experienced an epiphany about the joys of retail I still wouldn’t have agreed. I don’t deserve it and you do. You’ve worked for it, you live it, love it. Even Grandfather had to admit in the end that his desire to see me in Father’s place was wrong, that his fierce determination for a male heir was utterly crazy. I’ve agreed to join the board as a family member but that’s it. You’re CEO, you’re in charge.’
Polly grabbed a cold beer and threw it to her twin, who caught it deftly with one hand, and pulled out a bottle of white wine for herself. She checked the label: Chateau Beaufils Chardonnay Semillon. One of Gabe’s, then.
‘So where have you been?’ Raff was leaning against the kitchen counter. He raised the beer. ‘Cheers.’
‘Oh, here and there.’ Polly’s cheeks heated up and she busied herself with looking for a corkscrew. Remember the new bucket list, she told herself, ruthlessly pushing the more reprehensible details of her time away out of her mind. ‘I went backpacking. In South America.’ She flashed him a smile. ‘Just like you always said I should.’
He smirked. ‘When you say backpacking, you mean five-star hotels and air-conditioned tours?’
‘Sometimes,’ Polly admitted, breathing a sigh of relief as the stubborn cork finally began to give way. She eased it out carefully, wrinkling her nose as the aroma hit her. She held the bottle out to Raff. ‘Is this corked?’
He took it and inhaled. ‘I don’t think so.’
She shrugged, and poured a small amount into a glass. She didn’t sip it though; just the sight of the straw-coloured liquid caused her stomach to roll ominously. She put the glass down. ‘But I did my fair share of rucksacks and walking boots too, along the Inca trail and other places.’ She grinned across at him. ‘You wouldn’t have recognised me, braids in my hair, a sarong, all my worldly goods in one bag.’
‘I had no idea where you were.’ He didn’t sound accusatory; he didn’t need to. She had read his emails, listened to his voicemails. She knew how much worry she’d caused him.
‘I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want pity or advice or anything but time to figure out who I was, who I wanted to be if I wasn’t going to run Rafferty’s.’
‘And?’
‘I was still figuring it out when Clara emailed me telling me to come home. So, don’t think I’m not glad to see you but why are you here? Did you miss Mr Simpkins?’
‘My shirts don’t look the same without a covering of ginger fur,’ he agreed. ‘Polly, there’s something I need to tell you.’ He turned his beer bottle round and round, his gaze fixed on it. ‘I’m not going to be working in the field any more. I’ve accepted a job at the headquarters of Doctors Everywhere instead and I’m moving here, to Hopeford.’
Polly stared. ‘But you love your job. Why on earth would you change it? And you’re moving here? Hang on!’ She looked at him suspiciously. ‘Do you want to move back in? I’m not running a doss centre for young executive males who are quite capable of finding their own places, you know.’
‘For who?’ His face cleared. ‘Oh, Gabe? He’s still here? How are you getting on with him?’
‘No.’ She shook her head, unwilling to discuss her absent houseguest. ‘No changing the subject. What’s going on?’
