Sweet Surrender (12 page)

No love, or best wishes, or even a get well message. Those were the greetings which came with other flowers, from Phil and Toby and her colleagues in Foychurch, from friends and neighbours all anxious to wish her well. Downstairs the house was full of flowers everywhere in every possible container Frances could find, but Alasdair’s tulips went up into Kate’s bedroom—a circumstance her family nobly refrained from mentioning.

The tulips were only the first of Alasdair’s offerings. Soon afterwards Kate received a parcel of brand-new books straight from the bestseller list, followed only days later by a selection of new releases on video to play on the VCR in her bedroom. Kate wrote brief, friendly notes of thanks after each arrival, secretly deeply touched by Alasdair’s efforts to improve her convalescence. But eventually she gave up hoping he would visit her, and in darker moments even wondered if he’d sent the gifts to assuage his guilt over the accident. If so the guilt was unnecessary, she thought moodily. He’d rung that night out of anxiety for her. It was sheer bad luck he’d chosen the worst possible moment to do it.

When the next parcel arrived Kate opened the large box with anticipation.

‘What has Alasdair sent you this time?’ asked Frances.

Kate stared blankly into the box after she’d removed the plastic chippings inside. ‘Wow,’ she said faintly. ‘It’s a DVD player.’

She took a card from the envelope inside and sat down abruptly.

‘We hope this is more to your taste than jewellery,’ said the message. ‘With best wishes from Julia, Tim, Abby, Baby John and Jack.’

Frances leaned over Kate’s shoulder to look. ‘Heavens above,’ she said, sighing. ‘You certainly started something the evening you took that child home with you.’

‘I really can’t send this back as well,’ said Kate, frowning.

‘Of course not. Just send a note of graceful but restrained thanks.’ Frances paused. ‘Do you think this is Mr Spencer’s doing, too?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll address my thanks to them all in general.’ Kate smiled. ‘You don’t have to worry, Mother. Jack Spencer’s a very nice man, with no dark, ulterior motive, I promise. He’s not on an intellectual level with Alasdair, maybe, and certainly not as well off. But I can enjoy his company even so, just as I do with Phil and Toby.’

‘Just good friends,’ said her mother, resigned. ‘Which is certainly not what Julian would settle for.’

‘Or Alasdair,’ said Kate tartly.

‘You’d never guess!’

Alasdair broke his silence eventually by ringing Kate one evening after she’d taken herself off to her room to watch one of his videos on her old VCR.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘Improving. How are you?’

‘Busy.’

‘How’s the job?’

‘Demanding.’

Silence for a moment.

‘What were you doing when I rang?’ he asked.

‘Watching one of videos you sent. You’ve been very
kind, Alasdair, and I appreciate the gifts. They were thoughtful. But I’m not an invalid now. You don’t have to send me any more.’

‘As you wish. Did you post the brooch back?’

‘Yes. By the tone of her answering letter Mrs Cartwright obviously had no idea of its value.’ Kate paused. ‘She sent me something else instead—a DVD player.’

‘A DVD player,’ he repeated. ‘Spencer’s idea again?’

‘The card said the gift came from the entire family, Jack included. And I can hardly send it back this time. Not that it’s much use to me at present. I don’t have anything to play on it—’ The moment the words were out Kate could have bitten her tongue. ‘But I’m going to hire something from the local video shop tomorrow,’ she added hastily, relieved when she heard a slight, but distinct chuckle from him.

‘Riveting subject though he is, let’s forget Jack Spencer and his family for the moment. There’s something I need to say.’

Kate waited, hardly daring to breathe.

‘Are you still there?’ he demanded.

‘Yes.’

‘Kate, if you ever change your mind the offer’s still on the table. You need only say the word.’

She let out the breath she’d been holding. ‘Thank you, Alasdair. But nothing’s changed.’

There was silence for a moment. ‘I’d like to come and see you, Kate, just the same.’

No way, thought Kate in panic. Having gone this far without seeing him, she wanted—
needed
—to look a whole lot more appealing before they met again. ‘Alasdair, please don’t be offended—’

‘But you don’t want that,’ he finished for her. ‘Right. Sorry I suggested it.’

‘Alasdair, you don’t understand!’

‘I understand only too well,’ he said bitterly. ‘Goodbye, Kate.’

She was depressed for days after the call and fully expected silence from Alasdair afterwards, but as time went by he rang occasionally, though there was no more talk of visiting her, nor a renewal of his offer. Instead he talked about his job and the progress on his house. They chatted about the approaching Easter holidays, and the family reunion expected at Friars Wood, and Kate expressed pleasure she was far from feeling when Alasdair informed her he was flying to New York.

Not, she assured herself afterwards, that she had the least right to feel jealous. What Alasdair did during the Easter break—even if he was doing it with Amy again—was nothing to do with her. But, in love with him or not, the thought of him in bed with another woman cut her to pieces. Disgusted with herself, she thrust the thought away and reminded herself that after the holiday she would be going back to Foychurch and her job, and life could get back to normal.

Before the holiday Kate took a trip to London to stay with Leo and Jonah, and let them to treat her to a frighteningly expensive haircut which did wonders for her morale. Now it had grown a little the genius with the scissors was able to transform her ragged mop into feathery curls, some of which fell in a half-fringe across her forehead to hide one scar. The rest, he assured her, would soon be long enough to curl on the back of her neck to hide the other.

The sum Leo handed over for the transformation took Kate’s breath away, but her sister told her it was worth
every penny to see her smile at her reflection again. Kate was passionately grateful for the boost to her self-confidence. When everyone was together at Friars Wood over Easter she would be able to enjoy the occasion far more now she was looking more normal. Different, but definitely normal.

When Kate returned to Foychurch a couple of days before term started she stopped dead when she opened her cottage door. The room was full of flowers, so many that some of them were in containers which didn’t belong to her. She went straight round to Mr Reith, who greeted her with affection and told her the flowers had been delivered earlier and, not knowing how late she would be, he’d put them in water in anything he could find, including some vases of his own. He told her she looked pretty as a picture with her new haircut, expressed his deep relief at her recovery, and handed her the card that had come with the flowers.

Back in her cottage Kate opened the envelope eagerly, but the welcome home message was from Jack Spencer, not Alasdair. Something she’d known, in her heart of hearts. Alasdair would never have sent such a vast profusion of flowers.

It was late that evening when Kate finally made supper from the various supplies Frances had packed into her new car. This was a second-hand model, a different make from her old one, but similar enough to feel familiar when she’d begun driving again. The first day out in it had been a nerve-racking experience. Before the accident driving had been like breathing, something she did without thinking, but now Kate found she had to drive every inch of the way with fierce concentration, and today’s journey had left her so limp with fatigue
she’d needed a long, relaxing soak in a bath with a book before even thinking of food.

Someone knocked on her front door when she was about to eat her meal from a tray on the sofa, and Kate jumped up eagerly to answer it. But instead of Alasdair, as she’d so desperately hoped, she found Jack Spencer on her doorstep, in formal dark suit, looking taken aback at the sight of her.

‘Hello, Kate. You were obviously expecting someone else.’

She pulled herself together hurriedly. ‘No, not at all. Do come in.’

‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘Almost as good as new. Thank you so much for the flowers.’

‘My pleasure. Your brother told me you were getting back today,’ he said, the familiar smile firmly back in place, but his eyes still on her hair.

‘I arrived a couple of hours ago. In time to get myself together for a day or two before starting work. I’m just having a lazy supper in front of the TV.’

‘And I’m interrupting it,’ he apologised, ‘so I’ll get to the point. Have dinner with me one night to celebrate your recovery?’

Kate looked at him thoughtfully. Jack Spencer was a likeable, attractive man. But the flowers and the extravagant presents, and his visits to the hospital, probably meant he wanted some kind of relationship with her. And this was out of the question. She searched for a way to refuse without giving offence and smiled wryly when she saw he was still fascinated by her hair.

‘You look so different, Kate. New hairdo. What made you cut it all off?’

‘They had to chop it off at the hospital.’

He grimaced. ‘God, you were so lucky! What actually happened?’

She gave him a brief account of the accident, then expressed her thanks again, to him and to his family, for the DVD player.

‘Our pleasure.’ he smiled sheepishly. ‘I obviously made a mistake, big time, with the brooch.’

‘I thought it came from your sister,’ said Kate quickly, and he shrugged.

‘She wasn’t up to shopping at the time, so I got it for her at Dysart’s when I went to the auction, as you probably know.’

‘I do. And how much it cost. Which is why I sent it back.’

He nodded. ‘Jules gave me a right old lecture about it. So I thought up the DVD player instead.’

Be blunt, she told herself. ‘If it had come first I would have returned that, too, but I just couldn’t do it a second time.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘I did very little to deserve it, Jack. It was embarrassing.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be!’

‘I know. Which is why I kept it. And your sister is the mother of one of my pupils, so I had no choice.’

‘Never mind Julia.’ He perched on the window seat, obviously prepared to stay, and with a feeling of resignation Kate sat down on the sofa. ‘Let’s talk about why you object to gifts from me, Kate.’

‘Is this just about you, then?’ asked Kate. ‘I thought the gift came from the whole family.’

‘It did—’

‘But you paid for it?’

He shrugged. ‘I plead guilty on that one.’

‘And to posing as my fiancé to visit me in the hospital? Might as well get it all in the open at once.’

He grinned sheepishly. ‘I admit I sort of implied it to one of the nurses, so I could sneak in to see you. But I didn’t know then that you’d lost your memory, Kate. You must know I wouldn’t harm a hair of your head—’ He bit his lip, and she smiled.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t throw a wobbly if you mention hair.’ Kate felt sudden remorse. ‘If I’ve been rude I apolgise,’ she began, but Jack held up a large, capable hand.

‘No, you haven’t. I’m the one who’s overstepped the mark, and I’m sorry. Put it down to a lack of finesse. When I want something I tend to go for it hell for leather.’

‘If you mean you want some kind of relationship with me,’ she said gently, ‘I’m afraid that’s not on.’

His mouth twisted. ‘Because of your friend Drummond?’

‘He has nothing to do with it,’ she said untruthfully. ‘I just believe in being honest.’ And Jack, she could see, wasn’t enjoying her candour any more than Alasdair had.

‘So what’s the problem? Do you actively dislike me? Or is it just that I’m lacking in the intellect department?’ he demanded.

‘Your intellect seems in pretty good shape to me.’ Kate smiled at him to soften the blow. ‘I like you very much, Jack. But—’

‘No buts,’ he said quickly, and gave her a wry grin. ‘No need to fill in the blanks, Kate. I understand.’

She smiled gratefully, then looked at her meal waiting on the tray. ‘Look, have you eaten? I can soon rustle up some supper.’

He jumped up immediately, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t come here for that, Kate.’

‘I know. But if you’ll settle for salad and a wedge of
my mother’s bacon and egg pie you’re more than welcome,’ she assured him.

Jack looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. ‘Thank you, I will. I’d be a fool to turn down the only meal I’ll ever share with you.’

Once she’d provided Jack with a hefty slice of the pie Frances had made because it was her daughter’s favourite comfort food, Kate resumed her own meal. Now the air was cleared, and she felt he wouldn’t misinterpret her interest, she asked Jack about his cottage.

He described the restoration work he was doing on it, talking with enthusiasm, until a peremptory knock on Kate’s front door called a halt to the conversation. Her heart leapt, then sank like a stone as she opened the door to a very cold, hostile Alasdair Drummond.

‘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.

When they were facing each other over steaming mugs of coffee, the fragrance brought back memories of their last night here so vividly Kate choked on the first sip.

‘Too hot?’ he asked. ‘Would you like more milk?’

She shook her head dumbly, cursing herself for com
ing here to End House. There was no point now in telling Alasdair she’d changed her mind. His offer was obviously no longer open.