Paradise Fields (42 page)

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Authors: Katie Fforde

BOOK: Paradise Fields
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‘What the hell are you doing?' she demanded when she was within earshot. ‘If you want to talk to me so badly, you could have come across and found me!'

‘What I have to say needs to be said in private.' Jake was unmoved and seemingly unsurprised by her anger.

‘Well then, you could have phoned me, sent me an email, written me a letter, even.'

Now she was no longer running, and was actually looking at him, she became aware of a trickle of sweat running down her spine, of how red her face must be, and how little of the make-up she had applied that morning would be left on. She was also aware that she hadn't had time to think carefully enough about what to wear that day. She was wearing her inevitable black trousers, a warm but old cashmere sweater and a waxed jacket that used to belong to Mark. She had intended to go back home and change before the festivities, but what with one thing and another, hadn't had time. Jake was muddy too, but it somehow suited him.

‘Would you have taken my call?'

Nel shrugged. She didn't want to lie and say yes, and she didn't want to go on with an argument which might easily deteriorate into ‘would, wouldn't, would, wouldn't'.

‘Besides,' Jake went on. ‘I couldn't say what I wanted to say until today.'

‘Oh?'

‘It concerns today.'

Nel sighed. ‘Listen, I'm very tired and very busy, not to mention very depressed. Could you please spit out whatever it was you wanted to say to me.'

He reached down and put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Come with me.'

She began to protest, but found the weight of his arm and the pressure of his hand on the top of her shoulder quite difficult to argue with. It seemed easier just to allow herself to be steered in whatever direction he chose.

He held her very tightly against him, as if he didn't want her to escape.

‘What are you doing?' she demanded, feeling she should make some objection, even if she couldn't physically run away.

‘Kidnapping you.'

‘Don't be ridiculous. I'm not a kid and you're a solicitor. You don't do things like that.' Then she paused, aware that they were walking away from the field, which was full of friends who would come to her rescue in a second, up towards where the four-wheel drives were parked, where it was extra muddy. ‘Oh my God! You
are
kidnapping me! Help!'

He laughed. ‘If you're going to call for help, you'll have to do it a bit louder than that.'

‘I was just having a practice run. Help!' she called again, louder this time. Either no one heard, or no one had any intention of helping her. ‘Are you planning to keep me for long? Or just until the ransom shows up?'

‘Just until Tuesday, and there will be no ransom demand.'

‘Just as well. We haven't got a bean. You may as well take me home. It will save you money in the long run.'

‘I told you, I don't want money for your return. I just want you, for a long weekend, or what's left of this one.'

A large bubble began to form in Nel's stomach and rise. When it reached her throat she felt as if she needed to either cough, burst into tears, or vomit. She coughed, hard, to make the bubble go away.

‘Well, you can't have me, as you know perfectly well. I have children, dogs, a house. They all need me.'

‘No, they don't.'

‘Yes, they do! How dare you say that!'

‘Viv's going to walk the dogs, and Fleur and Sam are going to look after the house, although that may include having a party.'

‘But who's going to look after them?'

‘They don't need looking after. Fleur looks after you, anyway.'

‘You mean she bosses me. It's not the same thing.'

‘Yes, it is. Now get in.'

They had reached a large dark purple Jeep. ‘No! Not until I get some explanation! Have you been conspiring with my friends and family to kidnap me? It's outrageous.' Nel was finding it quite hard to keep up the indignation. Being with Jake was so lovely, she probably would have gone with him if he'd said they were going to visit a sewage plant.

‘Look, just get in and we can talk as we drive.'

‘I'm not getting in until you tell me where we're going.' She only noticed that she'd said ‘we're going' instead of ‘you're taking me' when it was too late. And Jake definitely noticed too.

‘Cornwall.'

‘Cornwall! That's miles away!'

‘About three hours.'

He had opened the door and was waiting for her to get in. She closed her eyes. ‘Really, I can't do this. It sounds lovely, but I'm a grown-up woman with responsibilities. I can't just take off.'

Before she knew what he was planning, he had caught her behind the knees and heaved her up onto the seat and closed the door, catching a bit of waxed jacket as he did so. He was sitting next to her before she had worked out why the door wouldn't open, and then he locked them in.

‘Listen, Nel, I know this all seems a bit extreme, but I wanted to take you somewhere where we wouldn't be interrupted and you could relax, we could get to know each other, and . . .' He hesitated, his breathing suddenly a bit ragged, then he swallowed. ‘. . . things,' he finished finally.

Nel's heart was thumping so hard she thought it was quite likely visible through the waxed jacket. ‘I can't, Jake, you don't understand.'

‘Tell me then. But let's get out of here first, before someone comes up and asks you something.'

She sat in silence while Jake manoeuvred the Jeep out of the parking area and was back on the road. Then she said, ‘This isn't the car you had before. Is it yours?'

‘Yup. I thought this was a bit more suitable for the country.'

‘But you know what they call them in town: Chelsea tractors.'

‘I'm not planning to be in town much. Although I will keep my flat on.'

Mention of his flat made Nel catch her breath. She must get a grip. She burrowed in her handbag and found Sacha's calming oil.

‘What's that?' he asked.

‘It's very soothing. Guaranteed to prevent road rage and exam nerves.'

‘And which are you suffering from?'

‘Both.'

He laughed. He wasn't meant to. Nel was being perfectly serious.

‘Honestly, Jake. A joke's a joke, but please take me home now. I've got all sorts of stuff to sort out from the fête. I'm going to have to give back all the money to the people who bought plots of land.'

‘No, you won't.'

‘Of course I will! I can't just keep it! They're not going to get their squares and they've paid for them. They must have their money back. Some people had to struggle to find fifty quid, you know, although I don't suppose you can imagine that.'

‘You're making several vast assumptions there. Which one shall I disabuse you of first?'

Nel put a hand on the dashboard. ‘Seriously, Jake, unless you turn off here you'll be on the motorway before you know it. Take me home!'

‘No! I want to be on the motorway, and I'm not taking you home. Not yet, anyway.'

Helpless, Nel watched as they reached the point of no return and were firmly pointed in the direction of Cornwall. ‘Please, Jake! I haven't got anything with me!'

‘Look in the back.'

Nel looked and saw a familiar bag which was still thickly layered in Glastonbury mud. ‘Oh my God.'

‘Fleur packed it, and Viv told her what to pack.'

Nel closed her eyes and winced. Fleur might not be aware that there were clothes in Nel's wardrobe that she couldn't get into, but that she kept there for inspiration. ‘If Fleur packed my bag, why did she want to know if I had any make-up with me?'

‘She forgot your sponge bag. She told me at the five-a-side. She said she could sort it out.'

That explained the travel pack from Sacha. ‘Well, for your information, I have very little make-up with me. And presumably not a toothbrush either.'

‘We're going to a very good hotel. They will provide anything we need.'

‘Did Viv have anything to do with this?' Nel was getting angry. All her family and friends, the very people who should rally round and protect her, seemed to be in cahoots with the man she'd sworn off for ever.

‘She just confirmed that you'd like to be taken to a good hotel and pampered for a couple of days.'

‘Well, she's wrong! I won't like it at all!'

‘She told me you'd told her you would.'

‘That's just silly! Of course I'd like it if I had time to think about it, pack properly, make sure I had something half decent to wear, but not if I'm going to turn up in Mark's old jacket and my wellington boots!'

Jake looked at her for a moment and laughed. ‘I do realise that a bit of notice would have been useful, but
I promise you it will be all right. Fleur's definitely packed shoes.'

Nel sighed and looked at the road ahead. There was a good view from the Jeep and if everything in the world had been different, she would have enjoyed thundering along, on the way to a weekend in a good hotel in Cornwall.

‘It's not just my own feelings,' she explained. ‘I can't run out on the hospice, and the plan to save it. It would be OK if we'd stopped bloody Gideon Freebody, and sold all the plots. But we haven't. As I said earlier, there's money to be returned, explanations, all that stuff. If I leave now, they might think I've absconded with the cash.' She shot him a quick glance, hoping this reference to a possible crime might gain attention from the legal part of his mind and stop him.

‘But you have stopped Gideon Freebody.'

‘No, I haven't! I've still got the certificates for thirteen unsold plots.' She put her hand in her pocket and withdrew them. ‘They're about the only things I have got with me.'

‘And I've got the money for the plots. So that's all right.'

‘But, Jake, you know perfectly well we made it so each plot had to be sold individually, so that no one could buy more than one! I really regretted we did it like that, we could have had a limit of five, or something. But we didn't. You can't buy the plots yourself. God! If I could have, I would have! Even if I'd had to sell something.'

‘I haven't bought the plots myself. I've sold the plots and issued promissory notes.'

‘Which are?'

‘Bits of paper saying that the documentation will be along soon.'

‘Oh. Well, who have you sold them to?'

‘My colleagues in the office. You've met some of them.'

‘You haven't got thirteen colleagues. You've got about six colleagues.'

‘Yes, and they all have mothers and fathers. It was easy to sell them.'

‘But why should they give a damn about what sort of buildings go up? They don't live down here.'

‘No, but they are quite fond of me, and were probably hoping for invitations to my rural retreat.'

‘So you're buying a house?'

‘Yup. You must come and see it sometime.'

A little of Nel's tension eased away. ‘Jake, have you really sold all the plots?'

‘Yes. And had great pleasure in telling Chris Mowbray so.'

‘He must have been livid.'

‘He was. Not a pretty sight. Except to me, of course. He's such an ar— horrible man. I also managed to convince Pierce that Abraham's plan would be for the best, too. In spite of Kerry Anne's urgings to go for the big bucks.'

Nel sighed. ‘Kerry Anne. I saw you kissing her, you know.'

Jake frowned. ‘Did you? I don't think I've ever kissed her, but I suppose it could have slipped my mind.'

‘Jake! It was outside The Black Hart, a few weeks ago! I was caught up in those roadworks. I saw you!'

‘I expect she was kissing me goodbye. It couldn't have been much else, because Pierce was with us. Honestly, she's just a child. I couldn't ever fancy her.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Quite sure. She's too thin.'

‘I thought thin was good. God, I've spent enough of my own life trying to become thin.'

‘Most men prefer flesh, though I do realise you might not know that, having led a very sheltered life.'

‘With three children, two of them at university, it's not as sheltered as it was!' Feeling she need no longer worry about Kerry Anne, she went back to what they'd first been arguing about. ‘But if you'd sold the plots, why didn't you tell me?'

‘Because I couldn't have got you alone, and I had the five-a-side to organise.' He looked at her again. ‘I wanted you to present the cup.'

‘Viv was a much better choice. She's young and lovely and was wearing a hat.'

‘I don't fancy Viv, though.'

Nel found herself blushing. ‘So? What's that got to do with it?'

‘If I spend hours and hours on a muddy football ground with a lot of little boys, I want a reward.'

A little sigh escaped Nel as she tried to stop a feeling which could have been smugness. ‘You had the pleasure of knowing you were working for a good cause.'

‘Good causes are all very well, but there are other things in life.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘I mean that you seem to devote your life to good causes and don't pay enough attention to your personal life.'

‘Oh, that's not true! You just happened to meet me when we were having this building on Paradise Fields
to deal with. Normally I am entirely selfish and sybaritic, whatever that means.'

He chuckled and glanced at her before indicating and roaring past a row of cars in the middle lane. ‘I'm glad to hear about the sybaritic bit – there's no point in taking you where I'm taking you if you don't appreciate luxury.'

‘There's a “but” there, somewhere.'

‘Yes, there is.'

‘So? Tell me!'

Jake didn't tell her immediately. He fiddled with the radio, found a channel he liked, turned down the volume, passed a caravan and muttered about the driving of someone on the inside lane.

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