I'm Virtually Yours (4 page)

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

Out on the barge later that day, drinking a beer and watching the sunset, Will found himself thinking about Polly. He knew he'd been rude to her when it wasn't really her fault. He'd been trying all day to shut out the surprised hurt look in her eyes when he'd shouted at her. He'd have to apologise to her tomorrow.

The fact that it irritated him having a stranger looking through their books and assessing the business wasn't her fault either. She was just doing her job. Looking after the interests of her client Worldsend Enterprises. But would they turn out to be in the interest of Robertsons Riverside Services?

A simple injection of cash was one thing. But a large investment coupled with a say on how the business was run — which was what Worldsend were suggesting — was something else entirely. No way were they going to get too large a say in the way the business was operated.

Sitting there watching the toing and froing of various boats and dinghies, Will began to wonder what his life would be like if he ever had to leave. He couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Or a life that didn't involve boats. But if Worldsend Enterprises turned out to be rogues or, heaven forbid, if Jack Pettyjohn succeeded in putting them out of business, he might have to rethink his life.

Will glanced at the caller ID as his mobile rang. Doug, owner of a fifty-foot sailing boat and a regular customer.

“Had to leave the boat over in Jersey last month because of the bad weather and now I'm too busy to get over and pick her up. Can you sail her back for me this week Will?”

Mentally Will ticked off the jobs he had to do by the end of the week. Could he fit this extra job in? Be another injection of much needed cash to put towards finishing the barge.

After agreeing to collect the yacht, Will began to get organised. First and foremost he had to tell Ben. Assure him that the yard work would get done. Then he'd need to organise somebody to crew. Pity about his cousin Angie; she'd always crewed for him in the past on deliveries but now she had the B&B it was out of the question. It would have to be Lisa if she was available.

Which she would be. Lisa was always available whenever he asked, which made him feel uncomfortable and he tried not to ask too often. Usually he made sure he only asked her when he needed two or more crew, not wanting to work alone with her, but he knew this delivery job was too short notice for any of his other regular crew. Besides, the boat's size meant he only needed one extra pair of hands.

Lisa had never made any secret of the fact that she fancied him rotten and would do anything to please him, but try as he might, Will just couldn't respond. She was a nice girl but simply not his type. She was a good sailor though and an efficient crew member. Just what he needed for this job.

He pressed her number. It was only a short crossing from Jersey. Shouldn't be a problem.

 

Polly spent the next few days studying the boatyard's account books and investigating the business. Because there was no room at the boatyard office for her to work, Lillian had agreed to her bringing the books back to The Captain's Berth to work on them there. She did insist though that Polly took them back every evening and collected them again in the morning.

Working in her room had meant there had been no chance of bumping into Will, something she'd wanted to avoid after his outburst in the boatyard. She didn't need the hassle of dealing with a bad-tempered man, however good looking. Apparently though he'd been away collecting a yacht so wasn't around anyway. Due back sometime this evening, Lillian told her when she'd returned the books to the boatyard.

This evening, after an early dinner with Angie, she'd done some research on the internet for another of her clients. She'd also answered a query from a potential client who wanted costings for her to prepare some publicity and press releases for a new restaurant. Hopefully that work would be waiting for her when she returned home. For the last hour though she'd been concentrating on the spreadsheets she'd created for the boatyard.

But now her back and shoulders were aching from bending over her laptop in an effort to familiarise herself with the accounts and figures she would need to start putting a report together for Daniel. Her head was buzzing too. She stood up and stretched.

A gentle knock on the door and Angie poked her head around. “Fancy a night-cap?”

“I'll just pack this lot away and take Rosie for a quick stroll round the harbour to clear my head and loosen up a bit. Want me to take Solo as well?”

“I'm sure he'd love it,” Angie said. “I'll get their collars and leads ready.”

The pubs and restaurants around the harbour were busy, and a crowd had gathered on the quay to watch a trawler unload its catch of crabs while the pungent smell of fish filled the evening air. Polly was trying to pull Solo and Rosie past a particularly unsavoury fish crate dumped on the pavement they were desperate to investigate, when she saw Will and a woman walking towards her.

Will had a navy kit bag slung over his shoulder and was carrying another white one. He stopped when he saw Polly and the two dogs.

“Lisa, this is Polly. She's umm…she's working in the office for us at the moment.”

Solo, at the sound of Will's voice, threw himself at him, barking furiously and winding his lead round and round Will's legs. The two girls barely had time to say “Hi” to each other as Will untangled himself and held out the white kit bag to Lisa.

“You OK with this now? I need to talk to Polly. Thanks for the last two days — I'll see you around.”

Before taking the bag, Lisa leaned in and kissed Will on the cheek. “Anytime. You know you only have to ask.”

Polly watched her walk away as Solo launched himself at Will again, barking for attention.

“Lisa crewed for me on the delivery job. Shut up, Solo.” Will bent down and picked up the small dog who instantly began to smother him with wet licks.

“Obviously likes you,” Polly said.

“Lisa's just a friend,” Will said stroking Solo. “Oh you mean this monster?” he said seeing the look on Polly's face. “That's because I take him for a long walk most weekends,” Will said. “What's his new girlfriend called?”

“Rosie.”

“My cousin Angie looking after you OK?”

Polly nodded. “Yes.”

“Think I owe you an apology,” Will said. “I was out of order last time we met. Sorry — put it down to stress.”

“Apology accepted,” Polly said.

“Fancy joining me for a drink?”

“Not with these two,” Polly said, looking at him in surprise. This was a different, friendlier, Will to the one she'd met in the boatyard earlier in the week.

“I should imagine they'd cause havoc in any bar within minutes. Besides, I told Angie I wouldn't be long. Thanks all the same.”

“See you around then,” and Will handed her Solo's lead and strode away.

As Polly let herself back into the B&B her mobile rang.

“Hi. Daniel here. How's it going?”

Quickly Polly handed the dogs over to Angie, held up five fingers as she mouthed, ‘five minutes' and went up to her room, closing the door behind her.

“It's a bit soon to really tell, but the books are in order. There is a slight problem in that the Robertsons took out an unsecured loan with a finance company fourteen months ago and are in danger of defaulting on it.”

“Why the hell didn't they go to a regular bank?” Daniel demanded.

“Beginning of the credit crunch, banks didn't want to know or help. Haven't had a chance yet to check the agreement to see if there is a penalty clause for early repayment.”

“Do that and let me know next time. Anything else?”

Briefly Polly thought about the vendetta that appeared to be being waged against the boatyard but decided against mentioning it until she'd spoken to the Robertsons in more depth.

“Will, the son, is a bit worried you might be an asset stripper and will sell the place around them. You're not are you?”

“No,” Daniel said brusquely. “So, how large an investment d'you think I'm going to have to make?”

“Can't answer that yet, Daniel. Need a bit more time to go through the figures and business plan.”

“I'll phone again nearer the weekend. I'd appreciate an answer then. I need to know exactly what I'm getting into. Night,” and the line died.

Polly sighed. Working out how much money Robertsons Boatyard needed to survive was likely to be easier than telling Daniel Franklyn somebody appeared determined to put the boatyard out of business.

When she went back downstairs Polly took her bag with her intending to give Angie some money towards her bill. Because she was currently the only guest staying, they'd had dinner together in Angie's large kitchen every evening since she'd arrived. Dinners which had included lots of wine.

“It must be mounting up — all these dinners — not to mention the glasses of wine,” she said as she handed over some cash. “I know the dinners will go on my bill but the wine's on me for the next couple of nights.”

“Thanks,” Angie said. “I'm really enjoying having you stay. It seems ages since I spent some girly time with anyone. Most of my friends have moved away — either to work or get married. Wish you were staying longer.”

“Have you ever wanted to move away?” Polly asked, accepting the large glass of Chardonnay Angie poured her.

“I did for three years,” Angie said. “But in the end I realised I'm happiest here. Of course if I'd met someone, things might have worked out differently.” She shrugged. “Be nice to meet that someone special but it hasn't happened yet. You got anyone special back home?”

Polly shook her head. “Nope. Given up hoping on that score for the moment and trying to concentrate on getting the business up and running.”

It was gone eleven o'clock before Polly said goodnight and made her way upstairs. Moving across to draw the bedroom curtains, Polly saw a series of flashing lights down by the harbour and police running into one of the pubs. Something had obviously kicked off down there.

A minute later two policemen reappeared and unceremoniously bundled a handcuffed man into a police car.

From where she was, it looked suspiciously to Polly as if Will Robertson had been arrested.

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

A distraught Lillian was on her own when Polly arrived at the boatyard the next morning. The boatyard seemed unusually quiet to Polly.

“Where is everyone?”

“Ben's out on the river. Somebody tried to set the barge adrift last night and it damaged Jack Pettyjohn's floating gin palace. Of all the boats it had to hit.”

“Is Will with Ben?” Polly asked, not wanting to ask Lillian outright if it really had been Will she'd seen being arrested last night.

“He is now,” Lillian said. “He was arrested last night for aggressive drunken behaviour which is so not our Will. Apparently he got into an argument with Black Sam, one of Jack Pettyjohn's lackeys, and the next thing he knew he was being arrested. Kept him at the police station all night.”

“Can I do anything to help? Make you a coffee?” Polly asked.

“No thanks, but do make yourself one.” Lillian looked at her speculatively. “I don't suppose…”

“What?”

“You couldn't hold the fort here for me could you? I'm desperate to see the damage the barge did, how expensive the repairs are likely to be, but I can't leave the office.”

“Of course. I've got my laptop and the books, so I can work here while you're out. Off you go. Take as long as you need.”

“If anyone comes in just ask them to come back in, oh, say an hour. OK?” and Lillian grabbed her waterproof jacket from its hook and was gone.

Polly settled down and tried to concentrate on reading the small print in the loan agreement about early repayment, when the office door opened and a man regarded her indolently.

“Where's Lillian?”

“Out,” Polly answered. “She'll be back in an hour.” Instinctively she didn't like this man whoever he was, but she tried to remain civil in case he was an important customer of the boatyard. Could even be the owner of the new-build come to pay the next instalment.

“You working for the Robertsons?”

Polly shook her head. “No. Just helping out.”

“What you doing with the accounts then?”

“I don't think that's any of your business,” Polly said sharply, shutting her laptop and closing one of the books.

“Might be more my business in a few weeks than you know, missy,” the man said, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Name's Jack Pettyjohn. I expect the Robertsons have mentioned me.”

Polly ignored the outstretched hand with the diamond ring on its little finger. “No, the Robertsons haven't mentioned you, Mr. Pettyjohn,” she said defiantly. “Now if there's nothing else, could you please go? Come back when Lillian is here.”

Jack Pettyjohn leant across the desk, his face inches away from Polly. “I don't know who you are, but it's always a mistake to cross me. Tell that Will Robertson I expect a proper repair job — no bodging it.”

Polly regarded him steadily and he turned away, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Polly was still shaking when Lillian returned ten minutes later. A scowling-faced Will was with her.

“Everything all right? You look upset,” Lillian said.

“Jack Pettyjohn was here,” Polly said. “He's not a very nice man is he?”

“Understatement of the year that,” Will said. “And after last night's little episode I could kill him.”

“Will, you don't know for sure it was him,” Lillian said.

“I'd put money on it.” Will glanced at Polly. “You know I've been living on the
Elizabeth Ann
for the last few weeks? Last night somebody deliberately arranged for me to be out of the way for several hours, so they could untie her and cause havoc on the river. And you can't tell me that Pettyjohn's boat being out there was pure coincidence — his usual mooring is in the marina. So now on top of everything else, we get to repair his damn floating gin palace.”