The Rinucci Brothers. Lucy Gordon
‘Actually, I was hoping to come in and talk to you for a while.’
Before she could answer her mobile phone rang.
‘I guess that’s Andrew,’ Justin said. ‘You might still save your evening with him. OK, I’ll drop you here. Goodnight.’
It wasn’t the moment she would have chosen for Andrew to call, but she had no choice but to get out of the car. Justin closed the door behind her and sped away into the darkness, leaving her to answer the phone call, which turned out to be a wrong number.
Evie looked for Mark at school on the following Monday, but there was no sign of him, and Debra said that his father had called to say he had a cold and would be off for a few days.
She’d brought the memory stick in to return to him, but now she wrote him a little note saying that the pictures were lovely, and including her email address and sent the whole thing off in a package.
The following evening his reply was waiting on her computer, with some attached pictures of the puppies. She thanked him, and they settled into an amiable gossip that lasted for the next few days until she wrote at last:
If I don’t see you before I go, I promise to email you from all over the place. I’m off to my seaside cottage now. I’ll send you some pics of it, taken with my digital camera. If you can work yours I’m sure I can learn to work mine.
She had briefly considered calling at the house to see him, but decided against it. She was leaving soon, and it wasn’t kind to encourage Mark to cling to her.
She wondered if Justin would ask her to visit the child, but there was no word from him. Obviously he reckoned that she had outlived her usefulness.
Grumpy but curious, she looked him up on the Internet and what she found there confirmed what Lily had said. Justin Dane took over—people, firms, the world. Starting with nothing fifteen years earlier, he had created an empire out of hard work, genius and ruthlessness.
Before that fifteen years there were gaps in the information. Reading between the lines, all carefully worded to avoid the libel laws, Evie picked up an impression of a wild man, coldly indifferent to the feelings of others, who might even have done a spell in jail.
‘A nasty piece of work,’ she mused. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well I won’t come into contact with him again.’
Chapter Four
ON THE last day of term the pupils were due to leave immediately after lunch. Evie skipped lunch and prepared to go quickly. She had a long journey ahead.
‘Making your escape?’ Debra said, looking in while she was clearing up her things.
‘It’s not exactly an escape.’
‘That’s all you know. The Head is talking about kidnapping you and locking you up in a cupboard until next term.’
Evie laughed. ‘Then I’d better make a run for it.’
‘Is this from the kids?’ Debra indicated a large card with many signatures scrawled on it.
‘Yes, isn’t it sweet of them?’
‘I don’t see Mark’s name. He didn’t manage to get back in time then?’
‘No, and I’m sorry not to have the chance to say goodbye to him. On the other hand, he might have come to rely on me too much, so maybe it’s best as it is. I just wish I didn’t have this niggly feeling that I’ve let him down.’
‘You haven’t. You did all you could. Now, forget about this place and have a great summer. Are you going anywhere nice?’
‘A little seaside cottage for a few weeks.’
‘Lovely. With Andrew?’
‘He’ll join me in a day or two, but it’s a bit iffy at the moment. He’s very fed up with me and I don’t blame him.’
‘Never mind. Once you’ve got him down there you’ll bring him round—moonlight on the sea, romantic atmosphere. He won’t stand a chance.’
‘I hope not.’
Now that she was on the verge of losing Andrew, Evie found herself remembering how sweet-tempered and kind he was, and what a fool she would be to let him go. But all would be well. He would join her, they would spend quality time together, and all their troubles would be forgotten.
What she hadn’t told Debra was that she was clearing her things out of the cottage for the last time. It had belonged to an elderly great-uncle, who had recently died and left it to her. But he had also left a mountain of debts and the cottage had to be sold to pay them.
It was time to remove the possessions she’d left there over the years, and she had rented a van to take them. When she’d finished her goodbyes, she went out to where it was parked in the school yard.
It was a relief to head out of noisy, crowded London and south to Cornwall, and Penzance. The sun shone, the countryside soon enveloped her, and her spirits rose.
She had a three hundred mile trip and it was late at night as the van bumped and shuddered down the track to the place where the cottage stood close to the sea.
It was an old-fashioned building, the ground floor taken up by one large room. At one end was a tiny kitchen and at the other end a staircase rose directly to the upper floor.
Her body ached from sitting in one position for so long, and she walked up and down, stretching and rotating her shoulders until she felt human again. After preparing a quick snack she decided to go to bed at once. The house was a little chilly and would be more cheerful in the morning.
Or perhaps it would be more cheerful when Andrew arrived. Of course he was coming, she assured herself. He’d left a question mark over his arrival, but that was because he was annoyed about her cavalier treatment. It couldn’t end like this, and if it did it was Justin Dane’s fault for making her stand him up.
Her mind resisted the idea that it was Mark’s fault. That vulnerable boy carried enough burdens already without her piling more on him. Perhaps she’d already done so, by leaving without a proper goodbye. She wasn’t sure what else she could have done, but the thought troubled her.
She thought about the way she’d fought with Justin. She hadn’t meant to fight him, but there didn’t seem any other way to communicate with this man. At least he listened while she was insulting him, even if only out of surprise.
If he’d had any decency he’d have come to the school and invited her home to say goodbye to Mark. But it clearly hadn’t occurred to him to consider his son’s feelings.
She must have been lonelier for Andrew than she realised, because she was suddenly swept by despondency. It would be better in the morning, she promised herself. On that thought she fell asleep.
Next day she went into the village and bought groceries. On her return she started spring-cleaning so that the cottage should be at its best for potential buyers. By keeping busy she could ignore the fact that the telephone didn’t ring and there was no sign of Andrew.
She made sandwiches and ate them sitting outside, watching the sunset again, feeling suddenly very much alone.
But then she heard it. The sound of a car horn followed by crunching as wheels came down the gravel track.
Andrew! she thought, delighted.
She was surprised too, because it was not his way to arrive without calling first, but obviously his feelings had carried him away. In a moment she’d jumped up and raced around the cottage to where a car had just drawn up. Then she saw that the driver was not Andrew.
‘You!’ she cried, aghast, as Justin Dane climbed out. ‘What on earth—?’
Her voice faded as she saw Mark emerging too, smiling when he saw her. She smiled back and made her voice sound