I'm Virtually Yours (5 page)

“He said something about the business could be more his business than I knew,” Polly said. “Sounded like a threat to me.”

Lillian sighed. “He knows we've had a couple of bad seasons. He's hoping we'll be forced to sell up and he can buy the place at a giveaway price.”

“So you think he's behind all these vandalism attacks?” Polly asked.

Will shrugged his shoulders. “I'm convinced he is but getting enough evidence is difficult. He's been clever so far but damaging his own yacht may be his first mistake.”

“Does he know about Worldsend Enterprises wanting to invest?”

“Doubt it. Haven't mentioned it to anyone outside the family yet,” Lillian said. “I see you've been looking at the loan agreement.”

Polly nodded. “Need to be able to tell Worldsend the full story — both about the loan and the problems you've been having.”

“Likely to put them off?” Will asked.

Polly shrugged. “Depends on whether the problems stop or escalate I should think. Is Ben likely to be out on the river long? I'd like to spend some time in the chandlery this morning.”

“He'll be opening the shop at about eleven,” Lillian said.

“I'll go down there then — I need to check some things out,” Polly said.

“You'll have seen everything then except the barge,” Will said. “Give me a bell when you've finished there and I'll take you across to it. The folders of my ideas and plans you wanted to see are still over there. ”

“Thought you were going to bring them over here?” Polly said. “I'll need to keep them for a day or two.”

“Forgot, sorry,” Will said. “Anyway you should see the inside of the barge. Judge for yourself whether it's up to the standard Worldwide Enterprises want.”

“I can do that another time,” Polly said, crossing her fingers behind her back. She'd think of another excuse then not to go out to the barge.

“Today I need to do some stocktaking down at the chandlery and check your records. So it would be good if you could let me have those folders this afternoon.”

No way was she going out on the river. Daniel had assured her she could stay on terra firma at all times and she intended to stick to their agreement.

Will shrugged. “Suit yourself. I'm off to check last night's damage,” and the office door slammed behind him.

Lillian looked at Polly apologetically. “Sorry about Will. He's not normally so rude. This whole business is getting to him.”

Polly shrugged. “He does seem a bit stressed out. Right, I'm off too.”

Leaving the boatyard Polly made her way along the quay towards the chandlery. She needed to take a look at their recent stocktaking records and compare them with what was on the books.

Then she promised herself she'd sit on the quay, enjoy an ice cream and watch the world go by. Might as well make the best of the sunshine.

Right now, she also needed to decide what exactly she was going to say to Daniel when he rang. The books were in order, the unsecured loan was deal-able with but the vendetta being waged against the yard was something else.

Would whoever was behind it, continue once it was general knowledge there had been an injection of money into the business? And would Daniel be prepared to accept the risk?

 

Will swore to himself as he climbed down the steep wall ladder from the embankment before squelching his way through the mud towards the grid where Jack Pettyjohn's boat was tied up. Low tide at twelve o'clock was the first opportunity he'd had to inspect the damage the barge had caused. Working for Jack Pettyjohn was all he bloody needed on top of everything else.

This Polly whats-her-name from Worldsend Enterprises was worrying him a bit too. She was a definite surprise. He'd been expecting someone older, a hard-edged career woman who'd take one look at their books and their business organisation and inform them they were a lost cause.

Whereas Polly was all auburn curls, hazelnut eyes and a killer smile — not that she'd smiled at him much after he'd made his feelings about asset strippers clear. Mind you she could strip his… NO. Best not go there! Probably a good job she'd turned down his invitation for a drink last night.

So what if Polly was the sort of girl he'd normally go for? Never a good idea to mix business with pleasure. Maybe after this ‘Worldsend Enterprises' business was all sewn up, he'd ask her out again for a drink before she left. Then again maybe not.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't get involved with anybody until he'd helped Dad get the business back on track and here he was thinking about a girl he'd just met. A girl who could put the kibosh on all his plans for the boatyard. Mind you, reading between the lines, she didn't seem to be at all keen on boats so what was the possibility of her even looking at him when boats were his life?

Carefully and expertly probing his hand over the cracked and holed fibreglass hull, Will was relieved to see the damage was minimal and above the waterline. No need to keep the boat on the grid. It could go back out to its mooring and they could tie the workboat up alongside to work on it.

That would keep the expense down a bit. Getting the exact fibreglass colour match shouldn't be too difficult but fitting the work in with all the pre-season stuff that still had to be done wasn't going to be easy.

A shadow fell across the boat. Jack Pettyjohn stood on the embankment looking down at him.

“Don't waste your time figuring out how to repair it. Decided to get the Torquay boys over to do it — they're the real experts.”

“Don't be fucking ridiculous,” Will shouted up at him. “It'll cost a bloody fortune. I'll fit it in sometime this week.”

Jack Pettyjohn shook his head. “'Fraid not, Will. Mind's made up. They'll bill you direct. Hope you can afford it. Now please move away from my boat.”

“You're an out and out bastard, Jack Pettyjohn.”

“So I've been told,” Jack Pettyjohn said, shrugging his shoulders before walking away.

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

Polly struggled to stop shaking and prayed Will wouldn't notice as she stood on the slipway looking down at the large rubber dinghy he was urging her to step into.

“What's the matter?”

“I thought you'd agreed to bring the papers to the office this afternoon?” Polly said.

“This way you get to see the barge as well. Come on, get in. I haven't got all day. It's quite safe,” Will said, holding out his hand. “It wobbles a bit as you step in but that's all.”

“I'll take your word for it but I'm not getting in it.” And Polly moved several feet back from the edge of the slipway.

Ten minutes ago she'd been sitting by the inner harbour enjoying the ice cream she'd promised herself and enjoying the view. Looking out along the headland with its villas and thatched cottages dotted along its length, the medieval castle at the mouth of the estuary, Polly wished she had her camera with her. With several dinghies sailing in the river and that as background it would have made a perfect picture.

But then Will had found her and insisted there was time before lunch for her to inspect the barge and collect his file of plans for the business. And refused to take no for answer. Only now he'd have to. There was no way she was getting into that bouncing rubber object.

“You have a problem?” Will demanded, eyes narrowed, watching her. “Only I don't have all day to stand here.”

Polly took a deep breath. “I don't do small boats. In fact I don't do boats full stop,” she said. “I'm sorry but I'm going to have to insist you bring the papers to the office.”

“I can't believe this,” Will said. “You're working for a nautical company but you ‘don't do' boats.” He shook his head in disbelief. “How the hell can you evaluate our business if boats are alien to you?”

“I don't need to like boats to do a business plan,” Polly protested. “And I do know how to read accounts and analyse things. Besides Worldsend is only one of my clients and they promised me I could stay on terra firma if I agreed to take on this job.”

Will's cold stare made her flinch. She felt an unexpected need to be honest with him. Try and make him understand.

“Will, I'm truly sorry,” Polly's voice trailed away. “But I'm absolutely terrified of boats and the water,” she added. “If I could get in that boat I would — but I can't.”

“Is there any reason why you're so petrified?” Will asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “Or is it just an irrational phobia?”

“I fell out of a rowing boat once when we were on holiday. I couldn't swim and I thought I was going to drown. Haven't been in a boat since.” She looked at him dejectedly, hoping that he wasn't about to make fun of her. “I did learn to swim though — my dad insisted after the accident,” she added. “Took me a lot of Saturday mornings at the local swimming baths before I managed it. But I don't like it. I'd rather look at the water than be in it or on it.”

“How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You don't think it's time you faced up to your fear?”

“I know I should,” Polly said, shaking her head. “But not today. Sorry.”

Will sighed. “OK. Go and wait for me in the Sail Loft Cafe on the quay. I'll fetch the papers from the barge and we'll look at them together over lunch. Back in ten minutes.”

Polly stood and watched as Will expertly manoeuvred the dinghy away from the slipway out into the river before she turned and made for the cafe. Perhaps now he knew how she felt about boats he'd stop badgering her about getting in one to go across to the barge. She could only hope.

The cafe, popular with locals as well as holidaymakers and yachties, was reasonably busy but Polly managed to stake a claim on a vacant window table. She slipped into the high-backed wooden settle seat that offered some privacy from the other diners.

When the waitress brought her the menu she asked for some water and said, “I'll order when my friend arrives.” Who'd have thought she'd be sitting here waiting to have lunch with Will? Hopefully his stressed-out, blunt rude side wouldn't be in evidence for the next hour. When he was being nice he was very nice — and incredibly sexy with it.

Sipping her water, Polly became aware that there was an an angry low-pitched confrontation going on between two men in the settle behind her. Her own settle rocked as the two men stood up and, still arguing, prepared to leave. She recognised that voice. Quickly she picked up the menu and pretended to read it, sinking down in her seat trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as the two men walked past.

“Well, I'm not paying you for your last effort. That was my yacht that got damaged. Mess up again like that next time, mate, and I warn you, not only are you off the payroll but I'll make you suffer.”

Slowly Polly lowered the menu and watched as Jack Pettyjohn and his companion left the cafe. Mentally she made a note of the other man, hoping Will would be able to recognise him from her description.

Will arrived five minutes later clutching a large folder which he carefully placed on the table. He glanced at her.

“You all right? You look a bit pale.”

Polly told him what she'd overheard. “The other guy was quite tall, black jeans, black sweatshirt, dark blue waterproof jacket — oh and he walked with a limp.”

“Black Sam,” Will said instantly. “He started working for Pettyjohn about six months ago.” He clenched his fish. “I knew Jack was behind last night's debacle. And the rest of the stuff.” The salt and pepper pots rattled as his fist banged the table.

“Sounds as though he's planning something else. Can you go to the police?”

“What with? Still haven't got any hard evidence. No. Dad and I will just have to rely on staying vigilant and phone the police if something kicks off. You didn't hear anything else did you?”

Polly shook her head. “No, sorry. Told you everything. Can I do anything to help?”

“Thanks but no thanks. The Robertsons fight their own battles.” Will opened the folder and pulled out a bundle of papers, dislodging a black and white photo as he did so.

“Dad at the helm of the
Mary-Jane
,” Will said as Polly picked up the photo. “I'm trying to trace her. I know Dad would love to know what's happened to her since his uncle sailed away and disappeared.”

“Lillian said something about it going to the States in the fifties, but I didn't realise a family member had taken it,” Polly said.

Looking at a young Ben in the photo was like looking at the man sat opposite her. What was that they said about daughters turning into their mothers? If it was the same with boys and their fathers then Will would still be a good looking hunk when he was Ben's age. Not that she would know him then of course. She held the photo out to him.

“Along with a sizeable amount of the firm's money,” Will said, replacing it in the folder. “It's all ancient history now but I know Dad would love to know about the
Mary-Jane
— even if he couldn't care less about his long-lost relative.”

“What have you discovered so far?”

“Nothing,” Will said. “To be honest I've been too busy, but once the barge is up and running and a few other things are sorted, I'll spend some time on the internet and see what I can unearth. Right, let's look at my ideas for the yard.”

Polly could tell from the plans and the detailed budget analysis Will had drawn up that he had a good grasp of what was needed for the business to grow. His enthusiasm for the projects he visualised putting into effect was infectious and she found herself relaxing in his company for the first time.

Will pushed the papers back into the folders when their lunch — mussels and frites — arrived. “Can you leave those with me for bit?” Polly said. “Need to take a closer look at them for Worldsend.”