Lovelink (8 page)

He bent his head to kiss her on the cheek but she managed to slither out of his reach.

“Right, where are we going?” she asked, closing the front door firmly behind her.

Peter looked disappointed.

“You're not going to invite me in, then? Never mind, plenty of time for that later.” He grinned.

No chance, Vicky thought as she walked briskly towards his car. This was going to be more of an ordeal than she'd realised. If only she could just get through the meal, make sure Peter understood that there was nothing left between them and then forget he'd ever existed.

Once seated in the car, she pushed herself against the door, trying to sit as far away from him as possible. He drove erratically and she wasn't sorry when they arrived at a brightly lit pub called the Ship and Shore. The car park was almost full—testimony to the pub's popularity.

“Here we are. My hotel recommended this place. Told me the food's very good,” he said.

Vicky smiled weakly. Being with Peter had severely reduced her appetite.

They went in and sat in the lounge bar.

“Let's just have a drink before we order. There's no hurry after all.” Peter winked at her. “Now what would you like? It's a G and T, if I'm not mistaken.”

“No, I can't stand gin. That's Gillian's drink. I'll have a glass of wine,” she said, coldly.

Peter's complexion darkened to a deep red.

“Err…sorry, love. Glass of wine coming straight up.”

As she watched him make his way to the bar, Vicky wondered how she'd manage to endure an evening in his company without losing her temper. Had she really ever loved him? It seemed impossible now.

She glanced around the busy pub. As her eyes scanned the crowd she was shocked when she saw another face that she recognised.

She watched in horror as Marcus, smiling broadly at her, pushed his way through the throng of people, towards her. She cast a glance in Peter's direction, seeing that he was still standing at the bar, waiting to be served.

Marcus studied her for a long moment.

“Vicky, what a lovely surprise!”

She felt the familiar quickening of her pulse. Amazing, after all she'd discovered today, he still had such an instant effect on her body. She had no power to control the emotions he caused to rage within her. Fighting to keep her voice calm, she said, “Good evening, Marcus.”

Smiling as he looked at her lapel, he said, “You received it then.”

“Pardon?”

“The bouquet. My way of a humble apology.” He smiled, igniting the blue of his eyes.

“Oh, yes. Thank you. They're lovely.”

Nervously, she glanced towards the bar and was disturbed to see that Peter was making his way back to her, carrying the drinks.

“Are you here alone?” he asked.

“No, I'm…”

“Here you are, love.” Peter handed her a glass of wine. “Who's this then? I don't think we've been introduced,” he said, looking at Marcus, suspiciously.

“I'm Marcus Foster, a…friend of Vicky's.”

They shook hands.

“I'm Peter Elliott, Vicky's fiancé.”

Vicky was outraged.

“Peter! You're…” She wanted passionately to tell Marcus the truth but words died on her lips.

It was too late. He'd turned to gaze coldly at her. The look in his eyes was unmistakable. Vicky felt her cheeks burn. What right did Marcus Foster have to judge her? And how dare Peter tell such a dreadful lie.

“Well, I'll leave you to enjoy your evening.”

It was at that moment that Lucinda Dayton arrived to stand beside Marcus. She linked her arm through his and Vicky watched as Peter's eyes almost fell out of their sockets as he stared at her perfect figure moulded into a tight, emerald green dress.

“Hi, Nicky. Can't stop. Come on, Marcus.” And with that she led him away.

Vicky was furious. Not only with Marcus who'd acted like a jealous schoolboy. How dare he, when he was with someone else for the evening anyway. But she was also livid with Peter. She turned furiously to him.

“How could you say such a thing, Peter Elliott? You know we're not engaged anymore. That was a complete and utter lie.”

“Cool down. I'm sorry. It just slipped out. I suppose I'm still used to introducing you as that. You can always put the record straight when you see him again. That is…”

Vicky's green eyes blazed as she looked at this conceited man, slouching in the chair opposite her.

“That is, what?”

“If it still isn't the truth.”

She could hardly believe her ears.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Keep your voice down, love. There's people about. It's just I hoped that this evening might be a way of us…healing the rift.”

“I'm sorry, Peter but as far as I recall that rift was caused by you moving in with Gillian. I doubt very much that she'd be pleased to know you're taking me out to dinner and talking of making up.”

He sighed and pressing his fingertips together, formed a steeple with his hands.

“Gillian and I are no longer an item. She left me after about a month.”

“At least she had some sense,” Vicky said. “So now you're down to see if I'd be stupid enough to take you back. It's only taken you six months to get around to it. Or was it hearing how well my business is doing that gave you the final shove back in my direction? Peter Elliott, you're despicable.”

Vicky stood up then.

“Where are you going?”

“To the ladies,” she said.

Once Vicky had walked around to the other side of the bar, she found the pay phone and dialled the number of the local taxi service. Within five minutes the cab arrived and she left the pub.

Once seated in the back of the taxi, she smiled to herself. She could just imagine Peter Elliott waiting for her. She wondered how long it would take him to get the message that she wasn't coming back. Not for dinner or for anything else.

As the cab passed the entrance to Nuneton House she remembered meeting Marcus. Had he believed Peter? Did he think she was engaged? But then, what did it matter? Marcus didn't care for her. He was trying to drive her away. If he was interested in anyone it was his dinner partner tonight, Lucinda Dayton.

She paid the taxi driver and let herself into her cottage.

The white roses Marcus had sent her were the first thing she saw. Tears started their slow descent down her cheeks. Weren't roses for romance? If only that had been the reason behind his gesture. As she gazed at each perfect bud, she realised she'd never felt such deep pain. For she knew with blinding clarity that she was desperately and hopelessly in love with Marcus Foster.

Chapter Seven

July reached Brookleigh and although it sent the temperature soaring, it did little to improve Vicky's spirits. Nothing could. Admitting finally to herself that she was in love with Marcus Foster had made life no easier to deal with. The practical step was to forget him, make herself fall out of love with him, accept the situation as being impossible. But the trouble was Vicky wasn't a very practical type of person. Her head could scream as much as it liked to her heart—it wasn't going to listen.

Feeling depressed wasn't going to help with today's task either. She'd arranged to see Natalie Reynolds later this morning and confront her with Brian Jacobs' complaint. She'd discussed it all with Jan who'd suggested Vicky terminated Natalie's membership.

“I'll have to find out first what it's all about but I expect that's what I'll have to do in the end. I can't let one customer upset all the others,” Vicky agreed, signing the letters Jan had just put in front of her.

“No, you don't want to see the business destroyed.”

There was something in Jan's tone which made Vicky look up but when she did so the blonde girl was smiling at her.

“No, I don't,” Vicky said, emphatically.

After Jan had left the office, Vicky sat back in her chair and contemplated the girl. There was something different about her, not quite right but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe weeks of studying people, constantly reassessing whether they had anything to do with the trouble at Lovelink, had made her suspicious. Perhaps discovering that the same man she was hopelessly in love with, was also out to destroy her, had prevented her from believing in anyone.

She walked over to the yucca tree in the corner of her office and said, quietly, “Are you the only one in Brookleigh I can trust, Frank?”

Sitting down again behind her desk, Vicky thought of Marcus and wondered what she was going to do. Should she go to the police and tell them, now she had a suspect? Should she confront Marcus, tell her to leave her alone? Maybe even give in gracefully, move back to York. Hadn't it all just been proof that Brookleigh wasn't the right place for her?

Not knowing what to do, was about all she was definitely sure of. She would only be able to decide after a long, hard think; something she could only do surrounded by people she knew loved her. Suddenly Vicky knew instinctively that it was time to go home, back to York. She picked up the telephone and dialled her mother's number.

“Hello, Mum. Got any room up there for a daughter?”

“What? Oh Vick, you don't mean…”

“Yes, Mum, I do. Could I come up for a few days? I really need the break.” Tears were trickling down her cheeks.

It was so good to hear a genuinely warm voice, to speak to someone whose words she didn't have to analyse. She longed to tell her mother everything but she didn't want to worry her. It wasn't fair.

“What about…well, what about Peter?”

“No problem, Mum. Not anymore.”

“I'm glad to hear it, love. Well, get off the line. I've lots to do. Got to have things just so—that daughter of mine's very fussy.”

Smiling, Vicky put down the receiver, glad that for the first time in days she'd done something she felt was right.

At about eleven o'clock Jan knocked on the door and showed Natalie Reynolds into Vicky's office.

“Good morning, Natalie. Please take a seat.”

Once again, Vicky was impressed by the Russian woman's beauty and poise.

“Good morning. Have you found me more suitable man? Is that what you see me about?” she asked, hurriedly.

Vicky shook her head.

“No, I'm sorry. We haven't. There's a…problem I'd like to discuss with you.”

“Problem? I'm sorry I do not understand.” The woman's dark eyes studied Vicky coldly.

“We've received a complaint about you.”

“Me? What have I done?”

“Mr. Jacobs said…”

“Huh! Brian Jacobs, I might have known. He changed his mind, no? He wants to marry me now. Your Englishmen, they do not like to be asked. Like to do it all themselves.” She nodded as if to underline her words.

Vicky smiled. This was easier than she'd anticipated.

“So you did ask him to marry you?”

“Yes,” Natalie looked puzzled.

“Can I ask why?”

Natalie sighed. “I need to marry. Soon.”

“Why? To stay in this country?”

Vicky had expected Natalie to argue, to deny it all but instead she only smiled and nodded again.

“But surely Reynolds is an English name?” Vicky said.

“Yes, it is. But it is not my real name. I made it up. I am Natalia Belova. To stay in England I have to be married. I do not have permit. Visa. It will not be long before I am caught. If I marry it will make things easier for me.”

Vicky sighed. “You realise I could tell the authorities about all this?”

“You will not tell, will you?”

Vicky saw Natalia was very pale and that there was a frightened look in her eyes. It was a long time before she could answer her.

“By rights, I should do. But I won't. Your membership here is terminated. I'll have Jan refund any money due to you. I'm sorry Natalia but this isn't what Lovelink is all about. If you'd succeeded in finding someone to marry you, what about their happiness? Did you care about them?”

Natalia shrugged.

“Does any marriage come with guarantee of success?” She stood up then. “Thank you for not telling. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Natalia.”

Long after she'd left the office, Vicky thought about Natalia Belova. In some ways she was right. Love was a gamble. You could only trust each other to make it work.

It was the end of the day and Vicky was just waiting to lock up while Jan was rummaging through her handbag searching for her car keys, when the phone rang. Vicky picked it up.

“Lovelink, Vicky Lewis speaking.”

“Hello, Vicky. It's Caroline, here.”

“This is a nice surprise. What can I do for you?” she asked, while at the same time she motioned for Jan to hold on for a moment.

“I just wondered if you might like to come over to the house this evening. We could have a swim in the pool and then a bite of supper later.”

It was the last thing Vicky wanted to do. She had to avoid Marcus, at least until she returned from York and had a clear plan in her mind, but it would be difficult to refuse Caroline on the spur of the moment without a good excuse and especially tricky with Jan in earshot. She didn't want her trying to put two and two together as to why she might want to avoid visiting Nuneton House.

“Lovely, Caroline, if you're sure. A swim would be just what I need today. It's been so hot.”

“Come over when you're ready.”

With that, she hung up.

Jan was gazing at her unblinkingly.

“Going out again, tonight? You've changed. Out nearly as much as Keith and me these days.”

“Yes, Caroline Foster's kindly invited me over to the house for the evening.”

Jan nodded and then asked, “You wanted me for something, chief?”

“Oh yes—do you think you'd be able to cope if I took a few days off? I need a short break. Just a long weekend really.”

Jan smiled. “No problem. Take as long as you need. I can handle it here. Especially now you've got rid of that Reynolds woman.”

“I'll leave you a number where you can contact me but I shouldn't think you'll need to use it.”

“When are you going?”

“I thought I'd leave late on Thursday evening to avoid the traffic and come back Monday afternoon. I'll be back in the office on Tuesday morning. Is that ok?”

“No problem. Enjoy your break. I should think you could do with it.”

“What do you mean?” Vicky could hear the edge in her own voice and wasn't surprised to see Jan's quizzical expression.

“Only what I say. After all, it will be the first holiday you've had since you took over Lovelink. And what with all the…problems here.”

Vicky sighed. “Sorry, Jan. I didn't mean to bite your head off. Maybe I need that holiday more than I'd realised.”

Jan smiled. “You'll see; a couple of days break and you'll feel like new.”

As Vicky drove home she regretted snapping at Janice but she had seemed almost pleased Vicky was going. But then perhaps it was only natural that a girl like her would revel in the chance for some extra responsibility, Vicky thought, cross with herself for being so uncharitable towards her.

She drove home to the cottage where she collected her swimming gear. As she grabbed a clean towel, she prayed Marcus wouldn't be there this evening. She didn't want to bump into him, not relishing the idea of their paths crossing once more. She didn't know if she'd be able to hide her feelings. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself in front of him. Lucinda Dayton was always so calm, confident and in control. By comparison, Vicky always felt very awkward and ungainly whenever she met Marcus. Even so she had to admit there was still a part of her that longed to see him. She was so confused. Why couldn't she know exactly what her feelings towards him were? If only she hadn't discovered he was behind all the trouble at Lovelink. But she knew he was. Hadn't the florist only confirmed what she'd always suspected?

It was so hot that she didn't fancy the idea of getting back into the stuffy car again to drive such a short distance so she walked to the bottom of her garden where there was a stone wall dividing her property from the Nuneton estate. As she opened the gate and went into the Nuneton grounds, she thought how much Marcus would love to break down this wall and claim her land for his own. After all, he'd gone to such extremes to try to achieve that.

Kicking off her shoes, she walked through the springy grass, feeling the cool blades push between her toes. The light breeze gently lifted her heavy hair from her neck. Through the heat haze she could just see a few horses in the distance, their tails swishing from side to side, trying to flick the incessant flies off their backs.

It really was a lovely view, she thought.

Dismissing the bridge, she chose to cross the brook by paddling through the shallow water. The coolness on her feet was a delight. Marcus had it all really. Why wasn't he content? Why did he want more and would stop at nothing to achieve it? she wondered as she stepped on to dry land again. It didn't make any sense to Vicky. She had so little compared to him and yet he wanted that as well. He hadn't struck her as greedy but there could be no other explanation.

Maybe he had more in common with Lucinda than she'd first thought. Their relationship puzzled Vicky. Yes, Lucinda was beautiful but Marcus was an intelligent man and she would have thought that he'd have needed more in a woman to hold his interest than just a pretty face. But maybe Lucinda had done all the chasing, leaving Marcus with little choice. She judged Lucinda Dayton as someone who would stop at nothing to get what, or more importantly, who she wanted. Perhaps it was this tenacious quality that Marcus most admired in her. She was so engrossed in her thoughts and the scenery that she didn't realise she wasn't alone until she heard a horse snort.

“Don't be alarmed, Vicky. It's only me, the villain from Nuneton House.”

She looked up to see Marcus smiling down at her, sitting astride a huge black stallion. She felt herself blush. On horseback, he looked even more handsome than she remembered.

“I don't think of you as a villain, Marcus. Anyway, I've always had a soft spot for the villain of a piece.”

With that, he roared with laughter.

“What are you doing on my land? Not that I mind you trespassing for a minute.”

“I'm not trespassing. Caroline asked me over.” She tried to keep her gaze steady, thrusting out her chin, recalling vividly every painful detail of their last meeting in the Ship and Shore pub.

He nodded.

“Want to come aboard?” he asked, reaching a hand out to her.

She felt herself freeze. She couldn't ride! How could she avoid the embarrassment of him discovering that fact? Especially when she was certain that Lucinda was an ace rider. Whenever they were together she found she waged a constant battle to be, if not in control, then at least an equal to him. This meeting was difficult enough without the added complication of her proving to him that she was as useless as he no doubt already judged her to be. Besides she was very aware that all she had on was a thin, summer dress as it was too hot for anything more. Hardly ideal riding attire.

“I…I don't have a hat,” she stated.

“You could use this one.” He took off his own hard hat. “There's nothing in here that would be harmed by me taking a tumble,” he said, taping his knuckles against his skull.

“I won't argue with that,” she said.

He laughed, looking straight into her eyes, straight into her soul. “Maybe you're right. My hat would be far too big for you. It might be dangerous.”

With that he swung his leg over the horse and dismounted to walk beside her. But she found that just as disconcerting. He was so close she'd only have to…

“What…what's the horse's name? Am I being introduced to a famous thoroughbred?”

“His name's Black Magic and he will be famous one day if I've anything to do with it. He's a very promising two-year-old, aren't you, boy?” he said, patting the horse's neck.

As he moved his arm back he caught at her hand, finding it quite natural to link his fingers with hers as they walked. But the moment his skin touched hers she felt just as if an electric shock had passed through her. She shivered.

“Jumpy, aren't you? Frightened your fiancé wouldn't approve of you being so familiar with another man?”

She felt his fingers tighten around hers. How she longed for him to let go of her hand but even if she could pull away from him, the action would only succeed in making her look immature.