Sweet Surrender (The Dysarts) (14 page)

‘A
LASDAIR
!' she said brightly. ‘What a surprise.'

‘So I see. Good evening, Kate,' he said formally, throwing a glance like a steel blade at Jack. ‘Adam said you'd be back here today. How are you feeling?'

‘A lot better,' Kate informed him wishing she were anywhere else on the planet. ‘Please come in. Would you like some coffee? You know Jack Spencer, of course.'

The two men nodded coolly.

‘No coffee, thanks,' said Alasdair. ‘It was just a flying visit, Kate. If your lights had been out I wouldn't have disturbed you as late as this.'

‘It's only just after ten,' she said tartly.

‘Look, I should be going,' said Jack uneasily, looking from one face to the other.

‘Not on my account,' said Alasdair, giving him a glacial look. ‘I'm the intruder. Glad to see you looking so much better, Kate. I'll ring you some time.' He gave her a smile which froze her blood, turned on his heel and strode down the path to his car.

Kate stared after him in anguish for a moment, then shut the door, resisting the urge to lean against it, movie-style, as she smiled at Jack. ‘Sorry about that.'

His answering grin was wry. ‘Not as sorry as me. I shouldn't have been here. Your friend didn't like it at all.'

‘Who I invite to my house is absolutely nothing to do with Alasdair,' she assured him.

‘Try telling him that!' His mouth went down at the corners. ‘Besides, you didn't invite me, Kate. I barged in, as usual.'

‘So did Alasdair.'

‘For a moment I thought he was going to knock me cold—he certainly wanted to!'

Kate pulled a face. ‘I'm glad he didn't. You wouldn't have stood by and let him, and my cottage is too small for brawling.'

Jack eyed her with remorse. ‘Your friend was not at all happy to find me here. Jealous as hell, in fact.'

Kate felt a rush of ignoble satisfaction. ‘He has no right to be.'

‘Are you in love with him?'

‘Good heavens, no. We're friends, that's all. From way back.'

‘Miss Dysart,' Jack said indulgently, ‘who are you trying to kid?'

‘I'm fond of Alasdair,' she said, colouring. ‘But that's all.'

‘If you say so,' he said, grinning. ‘But believe me, Kate, his feelings are a lot warmer than that. The guy wanted to floor me, then carry you off over his shoulder.'

Kate shook her head, laughing. ‘No way! Alasdair's not that kind—'

‘All men are that kind,' he assured her, then held out his hand. ‘Thank you for supper, Kate. I hope we meet again some time.'

‘So do I,' she said, with such sincerity he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

‘Take care, Kate.'

Kate opened the door for him, then peered out into the darkness. ‘Where's your car?'

Jack winked. ‘I parked it down the lane out of sight, to preserve your reputation!'

Kate laughed, wished him goodnight, then shut her door again and locked it this time, her mind working overtime. Alasdair had said he was in the neighbourhood, but Foychurch was pretty much off the beaten track. He'd looked weary enough to be on his way home from work. Unless the haggard look was the result of jet lag. Or sex with Amy.

For various reasons, Kate did not go happy to bed.

 

Kate was given a warm welcome when she started back at school, from staff and children alike. Touched to receive posies of flowers and little gifts from her class, she thanked them all for her wonderful get well card, relieved when Abby smiled shyly but came giftless. Once lessons got underway Kate noticed that the child seemed a lot happier in class, and later felt pleased when she saw that Abby was part of a noisy gang in the playground.

At the end of the week Abby came running back in after school. ‘I usually go home with Bethany's mother, Miss Dysart, but Mummy's come for me today, with the baby,' she said breathlessly. ‘She asked if you could spare a minute to talk to her.'

‘Miss Dysart, how pretty you look with short hair,' Julia Cartwright exclaimed when Kate joined her at the car. ‘Sorry to drag you out, but I couldn't leave the baby.'

Kate peered in at the chubby baby boy asleep in his car seat, and smiled at Abby. ‘He's beautiful—and looks just like you!'

The child smiled with pleasure, then got in beside the baby as Julia took Kate aside. ‘How are you feeling?
Abby was utterly beside herself when we heard what happened. She was so sure you were dead Jack insisted on taking her to the hospital to see you. I hope you didn't mind.'

‘Of course not. Abby seems a lot happier these days. More integrated into the class.'

‘Once she knew you were all right she began to settle down, oddly enough.' Julia hesitated. ‘My brother's gone back to London, by the way. He's been playing hookey a bit lately.'

‘London?' said Kate, surprised. ‘I thought his cottage wasn't far from here.'

‘It isn't. It's near Hereford. But that's just a weekend retreat. Jack's actual home is in London, near his head office.'

Head office?

‘He's been down this way for a while lately, to hold interviews and start up the Hereford office, which Tim is going to run.' Julia smiled. ‘The firm was Jack's baby when it started, but it's grown a bit since then. Aspen Homes is quite a success story for the boy who started on a pittance as a hod-carrier.'

Aspen Homes, thought Kate stunned. The company that built everything from modest homes for first-time buyers to expensive waterfront developments. ‘He never mentioned that.'

‘I thought not.' Julia smiled. ‘I came to say I quite understand about the brooch. To be honest, I would have sent you a camellia in a pot instead. But when Jack insisted on the DVD player I hadn't the heart to say no. For a hard-headed businessman he's very generous to people he likes.'

Kate smiled awkwardly. ‘Thank you for explaining. I had no idea.'

‘Well, you wouldn't from Jack,' said his sister. ‘I think he was rather hoping you'd like him for himself.'

‘I do, Mrs Cartwright. But only as a friend.'

Julia nodded. ‘Pity. Jack would make someone a wonderful husband.'

Kate was very thoughtful that night. Instead of willing Alasdair to ring, the same as every other night since the debacle of her first evening home, she gave some thought to Jack Spencer and everything he'd achieved from his beginnings as hod-carrier to his present spectacular success. Any other man would have used the story, and his financial standing, to gain his ends, but not Jack. Kate heaved a sigh. She liked Jack a lot. But his one great drawback was the fact that he wasn't Alasdair.

Kate slumped down on the sofa as she admitted the truth at last. Now Alasdair had come back into her life she wanted him to stay in it. Preferably forever. But to let him know that she needed to see him face to face.

It was something Kate longed for more and more as time went by without a word from him. The days went past quickly enough once she was back in the school routine. Often when there were extra-curricular calls on her time it was early evening or later before she got home, and for the time being the job took all her depleted energies. She had even given up her role in the dramatic society's forthcoming production of
An Ideal Husband
, so that evenings once given over to rehearsals could now be spent in the same way as all her other evenings. Waiting for Alasdair to ring.

But two weeks after Alasdair's ill-fated appearance on her doorstep Kate resigned herself to the fact that he was never going to ring. And she had no intention of ringing End House. The danger of his hostile Edinburgh-tinged
tones telling her to get lost was far too great. So there was only one thing for it. She would just have to pocket her pride and go to End House this weekend to see him in person. However hard he worked during the week, Alasdair must surely take Sunday off.

By Friday afternoon Kate was sorry she'd decided on Sunday. It meant she had a whole school-free Saturday to get through beforehand. So when Ally Ferris, who taught the nursery class, suggested lunch in Hereford next day, with a trip to the cinema afterwards, Kate agreed with enthusiasm, grateful to pass the time so pleasantly.

It was late in the evening when she got home, and, after the usual disappointment when she found no message on her phone from Alasdair, Kate had a chat with her mother to report on her health, went to bed early with a book she'd bought, and did a lot of hard thinking about whether the visit to Alasdair was a good idea after all. But if she didn't make the effort she'd go mad, Kate decided at last. Even though there was always the possibility that he wouldn't be there, even if she did drive to End House. He could be away for the weekend, or even on a trip back to New York for all she knew.

After a week of heavy showers and very few bright periods, Sunday dawned sunny and even warm, Kate found when she ventured out into the garden to put more nuts out for the birds and to chat over the hedge with Mr Reith, who was doing some weeding. So later, abandoning winter wool for a white shirt and the coral trousers her mother had bought for her, Kate tossed her windbreaker in the car and set off for Gloucester.

Her hair had grown a little, the fringe now long enough to brush one eyebrow and the hair at the back curling very satisfactorily to disguise the scar on her
neck. And because it was daytime, and sunny, and the bruises were long gone, Kate left her face pretty much to itself, other than a touch of mascara and lipstick. She was confident she looked rather good today. And hoped Alasdair would be in agreement. Though there was always the possibility that he'd slam his door shut the moment he saw her face.

Kate thrust the thought away, and concentrated on her driving. And eventually, even though she drove as slowly as safety allowed, and stopped
en route
for coffee and a Sunday paper, she finally reached End House.

Kate had no problem with space to park, because there was no sign of Alasdair's car. So it was worst-case scenario after all. He wasn't here. She got out of the car and rang the bell, just in case. No response. She peered through the large bay window into the drawing room, then through its twin into the dining room. But no Alasdair. Kate went round the house to look in at the kitchen window. Still no sign of him. Short of acquiring a ladder, there was no way she could look into the bedroom windows, and if Alasdair was up there in bed he wasn't answering the doorbell.

Kate got back in the car, deflated. Perhaps he'd gone out for a paper or something. In which case she would wait for a bit. Because she'd never have the nerve for this again. She sat reading the paper for a while, but the words on the page made so little sense that at last she gave up and faced facts. Alasdair could be out for the day, so she might as well go home.

She switched on the engine, backed round the lawn and drove towards the entrance—then gasped in horror and slammed on her brakes to avoid collision with a vehicle coming the other way. There was a tooth-grinding crunch as her car made contact with one of the
stone gateposts, and Kate, appalled but unhurt, switched off the engine and released her seat belt as Alasdair burst from the other car and came to wrench her door open.

‘
Kate!
Are you hurt?' he demanded.

‘No. Just horribly embarrassed,' she assured him, her face as red as her new trousers. ‘When I saw you I couldn't pull up in time.' She tried to smile. ‘I hope my insurance will be kind. It's not long since I wrote off another car—'

‘Shut up!' snapped Alasdair. ‘Do you think I'd forgotten that?' He pulled her out of the car and looked her up and down. ‘You appear to be in one piece,' he commented, his voice so wintry she shrivelled up inside.

‘Yes, thank you.' Kate thought of trying a winning smile, but Alasdair's eyes were so cold she abandoned the idea, and watched in suspense as he bent to examine her car.

‘Get in and back away,' ordered Alasdair.

Kate slid into the driving seat, switched on the ignition and began to reverse, then stopped dead. She wound down her window and looked at Alasdair in horror. ‘What was that horrible noise?'

‘Your bumper. It's dragging. Keep reversing while I get rid of this broken glass.'

Every tooth on edge at the noise, Kate did as he said, parked, then sat behind the wheel while Alasdair fetched a garden broom and did some sweeping up. Afterwards he drove in to park beside her, then got out, motioning her to do the same. They stood together in silence, examining the damage to her car, which had a dent in the bonnet and a mangled bumper. The broken glass had formerly been one of the headlights.

‘You can't drive back in that,' he said brusquely.

‘Can't you just tie the bumper back on, or something?' she asked hopefully.

‘No. Nor do I happen to have a replacement headlight.' Alasdair motioned her towards the house. ‘Come inside. You look shaken.'

‘Understandable,' she snapped. ‘It's not long since the accident, remember?'

He gave her a glare. ‘So you keep reminding me!'

‘Anyway, it's not my fault. You should have a mirror fixed in the lane outside your gate,' said Kate, furious with herself for ever thinking it was a good idea to come here. ‘I had no idea you were driving in at that moment.'

‘I happen to live here,' he said tersely, unlocking the door.

Kate stalked inside, her head in the air, wondering how on earth she was to get home. ‘Are there any garages around who would do a repair?' she asked, as he led the way to the kitchen.

‘On a Sunday?' He shot her a scathing look. ‘I doubt it. Sit down. I'll make some coffee.'

Kate was very glad to sit down. Now she had attention to spare for them she realised her knees were trembling. She pulled on her sweater, even though the kitchen seemed even warmer than before now the walls were painted in one of the soft shades of red she'd suggested. She wanted to tell Alasdair that, but decided not to. If there was any talking to be done he must start the ball rolling.