One Hour to Midnight (22 page)

I'm a trespasser in another woman's home
.
 
Veronica's accusation stung.
 

"You were listening again."

"I haven't found a control switch for my ears yet, Leon. And neither of you were particularly quiet. What do you intend to do about it?"

He paced around the kitchen watching his housekeeper through narrowed eyes. He had no doubt Cassie would spare him little sympathy. "What can I do?"

She gave him a droll look and continued with her chore.
 

"What do you suggest," he asked goaded when it was obvious she wasn't going to answer.

Cassie never hurried and when she finished, turned and wiped her hands on a towel, all the time watching him. He resisted the urge to squirm under that steely-eyed stare. This woman had chastised him as a child. She'd given him candy suckers when he was hurt and nurtured him through the intolerable grief of losing his wife.

She knew him as well as any person on the planet.

"Firstly, you would do well to realise Veronica is wounded. A wound you've re-opened with brutal suddenness."

She pulled out a chair by the kitchen island and sat down. Leon sat in the chair opposite.

"Between Yannis, Julia, you and to a certain extent Sonia, you fairly tore that girl's heart out ten years ago. I did warn you at the time." Cassie folded her arms over her ample bosom. "Have you ever once looked at this from her point of view?"

The explicit condemnation in her voice seared Leon, almost reducing him to schoolboy status. Cassie never hesitated to give her opinion, making it difficult for him to resist the very real urge to squirm under her clear, reproving gaze.

"She was welcome to visit here and see Jordan whenever she wanted to?" Leon said truculently.

"And after every visit, then what?" Cassie's huff was impatient. "Wounds don't heal with a steady dose of salt."

Leon pushed the chair back and went to the window and stared out, back towards her, grappling with Cassie's blunt assessment.
 

Veronica was hurt and was still hurting, that he couldn't deny.
 

Was he unreasonable to ask her help for Jordan?
 

No. If I had to, I'd do it all over again. There was little choice if it meant hurting Veronica or saving Jordan's life.

He turned to the plainspoken woman watching him. He leaned back against the bench finding he needed the support. "I can't change the past. Even you must know that's not an option."

"Granted. But you can exercise a little compassion and understanding now."

Leon raked a hand through his hair. What was Cassie suggesting? That he become some sort of new-age freak? The idea made him baulk. He wasn't changing himself for any woman. "I've tried to be tolerant and understanding."

Cassie snorted with derisive laughter and shook her head. "That is so pitiful, Leon, absolutely pathetic. Sometimes, I think men are born wearing blinders."

Leon ground his teeth in frustration.
 

There were times when Cassie forgot he employed her. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was an empty threat. He could no more imagine Claremont without Cassie than he could imagine himself as a new-age sort of guy.

"And I'm sure you're going to get around to telling me what you find so amusing."

"You know Leon, if it wasn't for Veronica; I'd leave you flounder in the mess you've created." She pushed her chair back and stood up. "Come with me."

Leon followed Cassie's rigid back into the front foyer. She opened the door and stepped outside. Mystified, he followed and she shut the door behind them.

"Well that was illuminating." He rocked back on his heels and glared at her.

"Leon." Cassie fairly snarled at him. "Can you cut the crap for a moment and at least try and put yourself in Veronica's shoes? Open that door and walk inside and take a good hard look at what hits you in the face."

She opened the door and indicated he precede her. Leon walked in looking around him frowning. He could see nothing out of place.

"I never realised you were a dumb ox before," Cassie snapped. She shook her head and walked over to pick up the portrait of Julia holding Jordan and stood looking at it.

"I was hard pressed not to cry at Veronica's expression when she saw this." She looked up at Leon, shaking her head in distress. "Do you know, when she's alone here she only ever uses the Blue Room, her suite and the side terrace? And do you know why?

"Every other room is filled with photos of you, Julia and Jordan. How is that supposed to make her feel? Talk about rubbing salt into wounds! Man, even in your bedroom you have that huge wedding portrait."

Cassie levelled at him a look filled with pure disgust.
 

"Can you imagine her thoughts, sharing your bed, and seeing that? Men don't have the sense God gave a sparrow. And where are Veronica's personal things? Tell me that? You uprooted her, plonked her into another woman's home and then wonder she's unhappy. I'm ashamed for you Leon!"

The infuriated woman stormed off to the kitchen.

Everywhere I go, everywhere I look I'm a trespasser
. Veronica's words mingled with Cassie's acid contempt.
 

It wasn't often he was reduced to humiliated discomfort, but his housekeeper had managed to do so with a few cutting comments.
 

Not once had he considered how Veronica would view the photo gallery he regarded as part of the furnishings. Walking into the formal lounge, looking around with fresh eyes guilt twisted his gut in knots. Cassie was right.
 

He possessed about as much sensitivity as a rogue baboon.
 

Small wonder Veronica doubted her ability to mother Jordan. Hell, he knew of her doubts. He'd listened to her fears as a pregnant teen. He knew she'd been abandoned, left in a school year round from a very young age.
 
And Kathleen Anderson, although protective of Veronica, was not exactly the nurturing type. And by relinquishing Jordan, did Veronica think she was following in her parents' footsteps?

The answer was so obvious, Leon wanted to kick himself. Hell, he better than anyone, knew he couldn't change the past. But he could damn well alter the present.
 

This had to change.
 

Now.
 

~***~

"Hiding out again, missy?"

Veronica glanced up and saw McKenna's gnarled, wizened face. He came into the summer house, set down the picnic basket, opened the lid and fished out cups, a thermos and a container of sandwiches.
 

"Ready for a cuppa?"
 

She couldn't help it, despite her upset a chuckle escaped. So often when she'd lived here before, Cassie had sent McKenna after her with a picnic basket. And she recognised the kindly Scot's hand now.

McKenna handed her a mug of sweet tea and offered her a sandwich. She devoured a sandwich bursting with ham and lettuce and reached for another. Her appetite, so woefully flagging, returned. As she ate, Veronica eyed the old-fashioned, cane picnic basket. "Do you also have a pack of cards in that basket?"
 

The old man laughed, a low, rumbling sound. "Of course what's the use of playing hooky without cards?"

She chuckled and set her mug on a wooden side table, took a handful of grapes and asked the question she'd often pondered. "Why did you and Cassie go out of your way to take such care of me when I lived here before?"

Veronica looked into eyes that despite his age were still keen and shrewd.
 

"You were just a bit of a girl, in deep trouble, and in sore need of cossetting."
 

"I never did thank you then, but I did appreciate it." She laid a hand over the gnarled one resting on the chair arm.

 
"So what's made you hide out this time, missy? It's been a long while since you've been here. Had a tiff with the boss?"

The dry observation sent heat up her cheeks. "And some."

"What's he done this time?"
 

Veronica shook her head not quite sure what had triggered that blow-up with Leon. Now she had time to think about it, he'd been primed and spoiling for a fight when he'd walked out onto the loggia. "He wants me to visit Jordan with him."

"Has he told the kid you're married?"

"No." She shook her head. "And I'm all for waiting. Jordan's still too sick to deal with anything extra."

As she watched the old man carefully select a few grapes, Veronica sensed he was also taking time to choose his words. "It's a ticklish situation and it's been a tough few years for Leon."

She nodded. This was the main reason why she'd never taken issue with him over all the photographs of his late wife spread throughout the house. Hell he even had that wedding photo on their bedroom dresser.

Tania would never have stayed silent about it, but she wasn't Tania.

Today, in her anger, her frustration at his blindness had escaped. "How long have you been at Claremont?"

The old man scratched a hand through his grizzled hair.
 
"I've bin here longer than that young whippersnapper, himself. Longer than Cassie, too."

"Then you knew Leon when he was a boy?"

"I did indeed." McKenna put his cup back in the basket and pulled out a well-used pack of cards. "Poker?"

"I haven't played poker since I left here." Veronica put her cup in the basket and rubbed her hands. "Got any matchsticks?"

"Nope."

"Oh?" Her heart raced at his shrewd expression.

"Truth or dare, Veronica?"

She swallowed hard. This was a new departure and she wasn't quite sure where he was going with it. "Okay."
 

"Cut for deal. High or low?"

"Low." Could she get any lower? Somehow Veronica doubted it.

The sound of McKenna shuffling the cards impinged on the silence. He held the pack to her and she cut. Two of Spades. He cut. Jack of Hearts.

"My turn to ask a question." The old man watched her, his expression shrewd.
 

Veronica's heart raced. So this was what he was about. She sucked in an anxious breath.

"How do you feel about Yannis?"

"Angry!" Veronica hardly had to even think about that. "I'm so damn angry, McKenna. I have all this anger roiling around inside me. Years of anger. Now it's built up and I don't know what to do with it."

"You want the easy way or the hard way?"

Veronica looked upwards with a roll of her eyes. "The easy way."

"Get Leon to take you to a Greek Taverna. Throwing a few plates will help ease the anger." When he laughed his black eyes nearly disappeared among his wrinkles.

Veronica chuckled, smashing a heap of plates held infinite appeal. "Okay what's the hard way?"

He looked at her, expression considering. "Let it go, Veronica. Hugging all that anger isn't doing you or Leon or Jordan, for that matter, any good."

Was that what she was doing? Hugging her anger. "That's easier said than done."

"Maybe. But for everyone's sake you need to find a way to let it go."

As she watched his gnarled hands shuffle the cards, Veronica knew the old man was right, she just didn't know how to go about following his advice. He handed her the pack. This time she cut high. "What was Yannis like as a boy?"

McKenna lifted his cap and scratched his head. "Sickly. Had something wrong with his heart and had several surgeries."

With clear vision Veronica recalled the scar in the centre of Yannis's chest. When she'd asked about it, he'd brushed her off. He'd lied about everything.

Dad says it's wrong to lie.

Jordan's words made her wish some-one had drummed that into Yannis when he was a boy. Had they done so, would he have become such an inveterate liar?

"I didn't know that," she admitted. "How did it affect him?"

It was hardly surprising she'd known so little about Jordan's biological father. And what little she'd learned, she'd dismissed. After his lies, what he'd done to her, how could she believe anything he'd told her?
 

"He was cosseted and greatly indulged. His mother kept him wrapped in cotton wool."

Veronica absently handed the cards back to McKenna but the old man never attempted to shuffle them. "It was hard on Leon."

"Why?"

"As the older boy, he always had to look after his sickly brother. Their mother expected him to protect and care for Yannis, and shield him from harm."

Veronica mulled this revelation over. "How old was Yannis then?"

"He'd have been about Jordan's age when he had the last surgery. Trouble was the pattern was set by then."

The old man shuffled the cards his expression hard to read as he looked across the garden clearly looking backwards.