‘And if you’re honest,’ Shay went on, ‘you’ll admit that a tiny part of you wondered if I was lying to cover myself too.’
She wouldn’t admit it. Then again, there was no need to.
They both knew it was true.
‘Right.’ Having made his point, Shay rose to his feet and raised his hand in farewell. ‘I’m off to bed.’
She’d thought they’d been sharing a friendly catch-up chat, whereas in reality, Didi realised, he’d been teaching her a lesson for ever having doubted him.
Well, in all honesty, you couldn’t blame him. Revenge was sweet. And who could resist it, being in his position now?
I’m Shay Mason, I’m back and I’m richer than any of you. And don’t go thinking I’ve forgotten what you thought of me, because I haven’t, and I never will.
Chapter 5
Benny Colette had just surreptitiously made himself a mug of instant coffee in the large silver and marble kitchen of Compton House when Bill the gardener tapped on the side door and let himself in.
‘I was shifting a load of earth and almost ran this over with my wheelbarrow.’ He held up a fine silver bracelet studded with charms. ‘Just managed to spot it in time. Your wife’s, I’m guessing. She’ll be pleased to have it back.’
Benny took the bracelet from him; it was a pretty thing, the charms catching the light as they swung from the narrow chain. It was also the kind of jewellery that Ingrid wouldn’t be seen dead wearing.
‘What’s this?’ High heels came clicking across the marble floor and Ingrid appeared behind him. ‘Eww, tacky. Not mine. Where did you find it?’
‘Just at the edge of the lawn, by the flower bed against the south wall.’ Bill looked disappointed; clearly he’d been hoping for cries of gratitude and relief, maybe even a finder’s fee. ‘Next to the lupins and hollyhocks.’
She grimaced. ‘Well, it’s cheap. I expect someone was so horrified at having been given such an awful bracelet that they threw it over the wall into our garden to get rid of it.’
‘It might belong to Birgitte,’ said Benny. ‘Or one of her friends.’ He turned apologetically to Bill. ‘Thanks for bringing it in, anyway.’
‘Hot out there. Finished my water,’ said Bill. ‘Could I refill my bottle?’
‘Let me do it for you.’ Ingrid’s glance had taken in the state of his work boots. ‘We don’t want mess all over the kitchen floor, do we, like last time? Oh Benny, not again.’ Her eagle eye had landed on the jar of Nescafé he hadn’t had time to put away. ‘The Gaggia’s right here.’ She was pointing at the complicated machine that hissed and snorted like a dragon before finally conceding the world’s tiniest dribble of espresso.
‘I prefer instant,’ said Benny for possibly the thousandth time. He couldn’t be doing with faffing about with those beans.
‘Come on, come on, where are you?’ Fragments of feathers flew up into the air as Rosa energetically stripped the bed, whipping off first the pillowcases then the duvet cover and checking every last corner. She’d already searched the rest of the cottage, retraced her steps from last night’s party at the hotel and checked with Sylvia on reception that the bracelet hadn’t been found and handed in.
This meant it had either fallen off whilst she’d been visiting Joe last night and was now lying in the garden of Compton House, or it was gone forever.
Which in turn meant she was going to have to either find or replace it before Layla discovered that the lovely thoughtful birthday present she’d chosen for her mother had lasted twelve whole hours on her wrist before getting lost.
No, no, it couldn’t happen again, not after last year and the debacle with the turquoise pendant.
An hour later, by a great stroke of luck, as Rosa was leaving the corner shop with a new jar of coffee, she saw Benny and Ingrid go past in their gleaming grey Mercedes, heading away from Compton House and out of town.
For once, fate was on her side. Seizing the moment and hurrying back along the high street, she reached the side of the property within minutes. She was forced to linger on the pavement pretending to be busy on her phone, but at last the coast was clear. She stuffed the jar of Gold Blend down the front of her T-shirt and clambered like lightning up and over the wall before dropping down to the other side. Oof, the glass was cold against her skin; she retrieved the jar and placed it on the grass, then spent five minutes methodically searching the flower bed, the lawn and the area around the base of Joe’s beloved Japanese maple.
But no, fate had had enough and abandoned her. There was no sign anywhere of the charm bracelet. Of course there wasn’t; that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? Having given the grass one last sweeping search, she made her way back to the wall, double-checked that the coast was clear, then climbed back over and headed for home.
It wasn’t until she went to switch on the kettle in the tiny blue and white kitchen that she realised she’d left the unopened jar of coffee on the lawn of Compton House.
OK, she definitely couldn’t risk going back again to collect a jar of Gold Blend, even if it had just cost her four pounds thirty.
Karma’s way of telling her she should have settled for a cup of tea in the first place.
Shay had left Elliscombe early to drive up to Birmingham airport, and by 10.30 he was waiting at Arrivals. He watched as a small boy of maybe three or four broke free from his mother and came hurtling through the gate, throwing himself into his father’s arms with a whoop of delight.
He wondered if he himself had ever done that. He must have, surely? He loved his own father and had happy childhood memories of playing in the garden, being driven in the car with all the windows down, wild games of hide-and-seek around the house. He remembered being taken by his mum to visit his dad in prison on several occasions but knew there hadn’t been any throwing-himself-into-his-arms allowed there. He also remembered his mum first becoming ill, and feeling the need to pretend to everyone that he was fine, convincing himself that everything would be OK and there was nothing to worry about.
Well, he’d been wrong about that, but during the years of her worsening illness he’d been able to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable, and had also learned how to cook, clean and generally become more capable than the average child. By the time his mum died, when he was twelve, he’d felt more like an adult.
And to his grieving dad’s credit, he’d also made a concerted effort to step up and carry out his fatherly duties. For almost eighteen months, possibly more by luck than judgement, he’d managed to stay out of trouble before, inevitably, giving in to the temptation to make some easy money and getting caught offloading a lorryload of fake designer leather jackets for a fake friend.
This was when Shay had really needed to learn how to think on his feet and take care of himself. Having persuaded a local family to reassure the authorities that he’d be living with them, he had returned to his own home and looked after himself. It had become a matter of pride to make a good job of this and not let the side down. On the first occasion, eking out the money from the tin kept under the floorboards, he’d eaten mainly burgers, Pot Noodles, oven chips and toast. After that, chiefly out of sheer boredom, he’d begun to cook properly, as his mum had taught him. He’d also honed his skills at fixing and mending things around the house, whilst also taking care of the cats and still maintaining excellent grades at school. The tin under the floorboards probably contained stolen money, which wasn’t ideal, obviously, but what alternative had there been? Shay had reminded himself that as soon as he was allowed to work, he’d be earning his own money, but until that time came, he’d just do what he had to do in order to get by.