Lily of the Valley in May (8 page)

She sat and looked out of the window. For the first time, she allowed her excitement at flying to surface. “This is amazing.”

Joel slid into the seat next to her. “What is?”

She looked at him, practically bouncing in her seat. “This.” Her hands waved trying to encompass the whole plane. “The whole flying thing.”

Joel chuckled. “You're like a kid in a sweet shop. You've never flown before, have you?”

Faith laughed. “What gave it away?”

“Besides the fact you're letting me do everything first?” He winked at her. “Ummm, perhaps your unbridled enthusiasm for something I take for granted.”

“I'm sorry. You're right, I haven't flown before. When we went anywhere as kids we drove. Or sometimes took the train.”

The flight attendant shut the doors, and Faith laid her hands on the arms of the seat as the plane started to back away from the gate. She watched the safety demonstration and read the card.

Glancing out of the window, she swallowed hard. What if they crashed?

Joel's soft hand rested on hers. “You know, more people die in car crashes each year than on planes. They have to give that talk. It's just a precaution.” He lowered his voice. “Rumor has it they get their pay docked if they don't do it.”

“OK.”

He ran his fingers over the back of her hand. “First time I took Bradley on a plane, he laughed hysterically all the way down the runway.”

The plane started to taxi. “It's bumpier than I expected.”

“It won't be once he puts his foot down.” Joel left his hand where it was, lacing his fingers into hers.

Even if she hadn't known he was a writer, she knew he wasn't a manual worker. His hands were too soft, no calluses. Yet his unassuming touch was firm. No, firm wasn't the right word.
Firm was something to fear. Firm meant pain followed, swiftly and without mercy.

She struggled to come up with a suitable word. Gentle, yes, but there was something more. There was a whole other layer to Joel that she hadn't uncovered, yet she knew she could trust him. How weird was that?

The plane accelerated, and Faith was pushed back into her seat. She kept her gaze on the window, catching her breath as suddenly the ground wasn't there anymore. “Wow.”

Joel smiled. “Yeah, wow.”

She shifted in her seat a little, liking the way his hand felt on hers. A shaft of disappointment filled her as he moved his hand putting it back in his lap. “How long is the flight?”

“About an hour and a half, depending on the tail or head winds. They'll serve lunch in a few. You'll have time to eat and then we'll be landing.” His face creased in concern. “You look worried. You're not still anxious about crashing are you?”

“No, it's not that. I don't want to put you in danger, too.”

“I think it's a bit late for that.” He shrugged. A resigned look crossed his face. “We were followed to the airport and picked up another tail until we went through security. El assumed it was the cops, so it's probably nothing. Maybe we should have brought Dirk after all.”

“I'm sorry you got dragged into all this.”

“It's OK.” Joel's hand covered hers again, squeezing it. “I won't let anything happen to you. And we have this protection officer joining us in Scotland.”

“You don't know Damien. If anyone gets in his way, he'll just take them out. He has ways of making you do what he wants. He'll stop at nothing...”

He twisted in his seat to face her. “Let's talk about something else.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. What you like, don't like and so on.”

She looked at him. “What?”

“Take your mind off things. El said he did this with Grace, learnt a lot about her in a few short minutes. It might be fun.”

“OK. I love roses. Blue roses...they smell wonderful. And sunsets, beaches, rainbows. Hate peas and porridge. Love sprouts and cabbage and cauliflower cheese.”

Joel chuckled. “Hate sprouts. They're evil. And I prefer sunrises to sunsets, but beaches, yeah. I could live on a beach quite happily. Don't like carrots, but love spaghetti, the snow and waterfalls.”

“Like waterfalls, too.” She reached out and touched his arm. “What if Damien finds us?”

“He'll have his work cut out to do that. Only my agent, Frank, and your brother have a list of where we're going, and they won't give it to anyone. We're staying in hotels, no more than a night maybe two in each one. We'll be doing lots of driving in hire cars. And in any case, we have God looking after us, right?”

The arrival of the flight attendant, and their lunch brought the conversation to a close. Faith nibbled on her meal, comparing Damien and Joel. The two men were poles apart. Why couldn't she have met Joel years ago, when neither of them had the baggage they did now? He was just the kind of bloke she'd have fallen for.

The voice inside her head whispered
it's too late, you've already done it

6

Joel checked them into the hotel in Carnoustie on Scotland's east coast. He carried his and Faith's cases up to the rooms which were next to each other. He should ring Frank and make sure all the rooms in the other hotels were organized the same way, plus an extra one now for DC Blondell.

Seeing Faith into her room first, he dumped his case next to the bed and moved over to the window. He pulled out his phone and dialed Frank as he watched the people walking on the sea front.

As Frank answered, there was a knock at the door. “Hey Frank, its Joel.” He moved to the door and opened it. “Come in, Faith.” He shut the door, smiling at Frank's response. “No, there's nothing wrong with the rooms or the hotel.”

“
So what can I do for you?
”

“I need you to upgrade to a suite in each hotel with two bedrooms and a sitting room please. And did you fax the schedule to DS Chadwick?”

“I did that last night. And sure, I'll organize the upgrade.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you don't just want the one room?”

“Quite sure. It's complicated, but there are three of us now, and the third person insists on staying as close as possible.”

“Really?”

Joel winked at Faith. “Yeah, her not-so-secret admirer came with us. So if you could do the suite that would be great. See you in a month. Bye.” He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.

Faith looked at him. “Now what?”

“Now, I want to go walk on the beach before the hard work starts.”

“What time's the first signing?”

“Ten o'clock tomorrow morning. So today we play. We have plenty of time.”

Was that suspicion in her eyes? “Play?”

He pushed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, play. Walk on the beach, paddle, and build sandcastles. The kind of stuff you probably haven't done in years.”

Faith shook her head. “No, I haven't.”

“Then let's go. But today we're just going to be us.”

“Us plus the bodyguard. He's going to get antsy if we don't appear soon.”

“Tough.” Joel checked his watch. “We're meeting him in the lobby in three minutes, so best get a wriggle on. Don't want to be late and spark a police alert.”

~*~

Wind whipped the waves into a frenzy as Joel led Faith along the beach. His hand rested just next to hers, but he stopped himself short of taking it. No doubt this Damien had also scared her off men for life. His blood boiled at the thought of someone ever laying a hand on her. Her words were so quiet at first half of them got blown away by the wind. “I'm sorry? I didn't hear what you said.”

“When we were kids, we'd build the most amazing sandcastles. They'd have four turrets, a moat, dungeons, with some of those flags to go on them. You know the ones with the dragon and the harp and the lions.”

“Yes, I remember those. Bradley loved them, too.” He looked at her. “Wanna build one?”

“Are you for real?”

He grinned. “Sure. We'll take photos and everything.”

“We don't have a bucket or spade.”

“But the shop over there does. Come on.”

Ten minutes later they were kneeling on the sand digging out the moat. DC Blondell, an older man than Joel had imagined, sat a little distance away, pretending to read the paper. Joel was surprised how organized Faith was at sandcastles. She marked out the sand first, collecting shells and seaweed as she found them.

“Bradley liked burying me in the sand.”

She looked up at him, pushing her hair from her eyes. “Really?”

“The higher up the better. I remember once, he buried me to my waist. Unfortunately there was a sand crab in there, too.”

“Oh, no.” Was that a hint of a smile on her face? “Was it a hungry crab?”

“Oh, yeah. I still have the scar on my leg to prove it.” Joel pulled his trouser leg up to show her the inch long scar on his calf. “Hard part was not letting on to Bradley it'd hurt me. He was upset enough as it was.”

“I bet. Did you ever let him bury you again?”

“Yes...but I checked the sand myself first.”

“Can I bury you?”

“No.”

She laughed. “OK, then.” She looked at the turret she was making and frowned at it. She pressed several shells into it for windows. “Rick used to bury the three of us. He didn't let us do it back though.”

“Course not. It's one rule for him and one for you. It's a brother thing.”

“That's what he said. What about you?”

“I'd bury Elliott and he'd thrash me at golf. He still does come to think about it.”

Faith stuck the flags in the top of the turrets. “There. Finished.”

Joel pulled out his phone. “Then its photo time.”

Faith did lots of silly poses and then, pulled him over to her, leaning against his chest. “Take one of us both and text it to Grace. Going to the beach was never the same after Hope left. You'd have liked her.” She leaned against him, as his arms folded around her and took the photo. “It's her birthday soon. Wish I could send her a card or something. Grace and I normally go to the park and feed the ducks in her honor.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down at the woman in his arms. She was so different from his wife. She'd never shown anything but contempt for him and never once had she cried and let him comfort her, let alone been content just to sit with him.
Why couldn't I have met Faith first? Life would have been so much easier
.

DC Blondell glanced over at them, then back down at his paper.

Joel shivered. Something about the cop set his nerves jangling. Maybe it was just his writer's instinct, always searching for a new villain for the next book.

But something about the way the bloke looked at Faith set the alarm bells ringing in his head. He'd have to watch him.

~*~

By nine forty-five, the pile of pristine books sat on one end of the table and place cards for Joel and Faith marked their seats. Joel took a deep nervous breath. It didn't matter how many of these he did, he always got nervous. Part of him was afraid no one would show up. The other part was afraid he wouldn't live up to the image and expectation people had of him.

DC Blondell stood to one side, arms folded, looking every inch the security man.

Faith looked at Joel. “Is that it?”

Joel put a pen down next to his place card. “That's it. Now we just sit here and hope people turn up.”

“Are you just signing the Angus books?”

He laughed. “No, I'll sign any of mine they want to buy.”

“Cool.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That goes for you, too.”

Faith shook her head and laughed at him. “I'm waiting for the next one. I have all your books already, so I don't need to buy any more. I actually brought my favorite one with me in the hopes you'd sign it at some point. It's a first edition of the first one you ever wrote.”

Joel looked at her. Even though Grace had told him that, he didn't really believe it. “Really? You're not winding me up here?”

“Of course not,” she whispered. “I'd like you to sign it, if that's OK.”

“I'd love to sign it.” He smiled genuinely touched that she'd asked him. He tilted his head, teasing her. “You'll need to get to the back of the queue.”

She laughed. “There isn't a queue.”

“You have a nice laugh. You should laugh more often. And if you want to make a queue, be my guest.” He leaned back in his chair and picked up his pen.

“Sure.” Faith bent down and pulled the book from her bag. She walked around to the other side of the table. Standing there, she shuffled her feet, looking as tongue tied as when they first met. “Would you sign my book please, Mr. Darrow?”

He grinned at her. “Sure.”

Faith winked at him. “It's my favorite and you're such a wonderful author. And way prettier than your picture, which my dog wants to slobber all over and chew to shreds because I pay you way more attention than I do him. He's also miffed that you asked me out and not him. And given the fact that you took me away and made him stay at home…well, he may never speak to either of us again.”

Joel choked with laughter as he took the book. “Remind me to have words with Patches when we get home.” He glanced down. “Wow. This is really your favorite?”

“Yes. Being serious for a moment, I like the way the story twists and turns and goes the opposite way from what I expected.”

Joel bit the end of the pen. What should he put? In the end he settled for a simple dedication and handed the book back.
To Faith, someone I am proud to call a friend. And the best illustrator I know. Paul Darrow.

Faith stood there and read what he had written “Thank you.” She closed the book. “Do you mean that?”

“I never say anything I don't mean.”