Keeping the Peace (42 page)

‘Yes. Come through, will you?’

Melissa, dressed in a blue and grey satin dress which wrapped itself seductively around her figure, stopped when she saw Pippa and Finn sitting with Jack.

‘What’s going on?’ she said suspiciously.

‘Just a small problem, which I’m hoping you might be able to clear up for me,’ Jack said airily. ‘Come sit down.’

Her eyes narrowed at Finn.

‘No. I’ll stand, thank you. We’ve got a dinner reservation to keep.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Jack replied. ‘What do you know about a set of glamour photos of Cara Connolly?’

Melissa’s chin lifted ever so slightly in defiance.

‘Who?’ she replied.

Jack shook his head and sighed.

Pippa noticed a trace of sadness filter through his posture.

‘You’re lying, Melissa,’ he said.

‘What? No, I’m not. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘There, you’re doing it again. Every time you lie, you tilt your nose up. Yes, you do know.’

‘That’s just stupid, Jack,’ Melissa chortled. ‘What is going on? What lies have these two been feeding you?’

Pippa felt like a lab chimpanzee under Melissa’s scrutiny.

‘Agh, for feck’s sake! You fixed the Gold Cup so Aaron Janssen would go into business with ye. Admit it!’ Finn said, flicking a dismissive hand at her.

Melissa deigned an offended expression and took a backward step. She looked at Jack, her eyes wide.

‘Jack, you don’t believe that, do you? You don’t think I had anything to do with Virtuoso falling, do you?’

A grim smirk tugged at the corner of Jack’s mouth.

‘Nobody said anything about Virtuoso, Mel.’

She gaped.

For the briefest of seconds, Pippa felt sorry for her, standing there alone with the three of them accusing her of blackmail.

‘What I can’t get my head round is why you would go to such extremes,’ he continued. ‘You let your father down, you let Virtuoso down... you let
me
down.’

Pippa looked at him in anguish, feeling his hurt, his betrayal. Glancing back at Melissa, she found the woman glaring at her. Her laser-beam of spite turned on Jack.

‘Let
you
down? While you carry on with Little Miss Sunshine here? At least I can trust my business! It doesn’t cheat on me!’

‘What? I’ve never cheated on you!’ Jack retorted.

‘No? Maybe not sexually, you haven’t. But you are so wrapped up in those fucking horses and your fucking secretary, who can do no fucking wrong in your eyes – how do you think that makes me feel?’ Melissa shouted. ‘So don’t sit there on your high horse and tell me I’ve let
you
down! All I was doing was looking after my own –’

‘Yes, but with no feckin’ concern for anybody else!’ Finn interrupted her. ‘You can ruin Cara’s career with those photos! I don’t know if this has been one big bluff just so you can get what you want from Aaron Janssen, but are you such an evil bitch that you’d bring everybody else down with you when you fail?’

‘If Cara hadn’t been so stupid in the first place, I wouldn’t be able to do this at all! She made her bed, she’s got to lie –’

‘She was seventeen!’ Finn roared. ‘She was a child! She’s
still
a child! And you know it because you took full advantage of her innocence!’ Trembling, he leapt to his feet. Melissa backed away. ‘Now, where are those photographs? Give them to me!’

Jack got up and gently pushed Finn down again.

‘I don’t have them with me,’ Melissa replied stubbornly.

Jack sighed and rested his hands on his hips.

‘Where are they?’

Melissa sneered at him.

‘Why should I tell you anything? Call yourself a boyfriend? Partners defend each other; they don’t attack each other.’

‘Melissa,’ Jack said, his tone grave. ‘You know blackmail is a criminal offence.’

Melissa gave a jeering laugh and threw a look at Finn.

‘You wouldn’t take me to court. All that expense, plus the publicity. The photos would be in the press before the case went to trial.’

Finn glared at her. Pippa knew as well as he did that she was right.

‘Finn mightn’t,’ Jack said. ‘But I might. Race-fixing is also an offence. You disrupted my business by making one of my horses lose. You lost me a huge amount of money in the process.’

‘Oh, bullshit,’ she spat. ‘Firstly, the money in jump racing is piss-poor. Secondly, I don’t think you’d do something like that. You’re so intent on being the good boss...’ She laughed mirthlessly in Pippa’s direction. ‘You wouldn’t do that to Finn.’

Jack shook his head and took another step forward.

‘Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t want Finn to be exposed to publicity when both his and Cara’s careers would be in jeopardy.’ He paused and a smile creased his eyes. ‘However, there is one person who would be mighty interested to hear what I have to say. He trusts me implicitly. I think you can vouch for his loyalty, can’t you, since he’s your father?’

Melissa’s eyes widened and her lips parted in shock.

‘You wouldn’t,’ she whispered.

Jack nodded.

‘Yes, I would.’

Her spiteful eyes now filled with tears and she lifted a trembling hand to her chest.

‘You can’t,’ she breathed. ‘He’d disown me.’

Jack nodded in agreement, his expression of ironic resignation.

‘You bet he would. The Mardling millions would go elsewhere and you know as well as I do, he wouldn’t think twice about it once he was certain. Daughter or no daughter.’

‘He couldn’t. That’s my inheritance. And my house, my car...’

‘Your father doesn’t associate with crooks. He wouldn’t want to know you.’ He paused. ‘Where are the photos, Mel?’ he said gently.

A lonely tear slid down her cheek.

‘They’re in my briefcase. In our room.’

‘I think you should go get them so we can be done with this once and for all.’

Melissa nodded, hopelessness rounding her shoulders. She turned to exit the room.

‘Oh, and while you’re at it,’ Jack called after her. ‘Get your things packed. You’ll need to speak to Reception, see if they’ve got any spare rooms available.’

Pippa watched her pause by the door then carry on into the hallway without answering. She couldn’t help but feel pity for Melissa. What she had done was inexcusable, but the desperation on her face, in her words, her sad reliance on a material world (quite literally) – it was upsetting to witness. She looked at Jack to gauge how he was taking things.

His mouth was set in a grim line.

‘I guess that’s it then,’ he concluded.

He walked over to the whisky bottle Finn had left out earlier and poured himself a couple of neat fingers. He threw it down his throat with a grunt.

‘Just about,’ Finn muttered. ‘She’s still got those photos.’

‘She’ll be back,’ Jack assured her. ‘The Mardling millions mean more to her than blackmailing you and your sister.’

Five minutes later, sure enough, Melissa walked back into the room. She held up a big manila envelope and tossed it onto the table.

‘There you are,’ she said, her pose dignified, like a proud Roman emperor surrendering his rule. ‘That’s all of them. I’m leaving now. I presume we won’t hear any more about this?’ She raised an eyebrow at Jack.

He shook his head.

‘This is the end of it.’

‘Good.’

She turned on her heel and strode out of the room. As the door clicked shut, marking Melissa’s departure, their attention turned to the ominous yet inoffensive-looking envelope. Finn picked it up and peeked inside. He cringed away from the images, confirming they were the right ones. Getting up, he walked over to the fireplace and using a gas lighter, lit the corner and threw the envelope into the grate.

They watched in silence as the photographs curled up away from the bright flames until all that was left was a few charred frills.

‘I should call Cara,’ Finn said, looking up. ‘To set her mind at rest.’

Jack nodded.

‘Good idea.’ He turned to Pippa. ‘We’ve missed our dinner reservation and to be honest, I don’t have much of an appetite. Do you mind if I cancel on you?’

Realising he probably wanted to be on his own, to straighten things out in his mind, she shook her head.

‘Not at all. I think it’s probably for the best anyhow. I’m going to head back to my room.’

‘Me too. We’ll leave you in peace, Finn. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow. Hey, cheer up. It’s all over now. We won’t mention it again, okay?’

The Irishman nodded and attempted a smile, but a sadness still remained in his eyes.

Pippa noticed they were focused on her as she got up to leave with Jack.

B
ursts of gusty rain spattered the hotel dining room windows the next morning. Pippa gazed sullenly at the heavy grey outlook, ignoring the full English breakfast in front of her.

‘Not hungry?’ Jack prompted between mouthfuls.

Pippa shook her head. She’d never felt less like eating. Excitement and fear churned its own recipe in her stomach.

‘Have some toast at least,’ he said, pushing the silver toast rack towards her. ‘You’ll need to eat something. It’s going to be a long day.’

With a reluctant hand, she selected a slice and spread some butter and blackcurrant jam on it. She watched Jack swab a hash brown in egg yolk and pop the last forkful of food into his mouth.

‘How can you eat? Aren’t you nervous?’

Jack shrugged and patted his mouth with his napkin.

‘So-so. I’ll be more nervous come four o’clock.’

Pippa groaned.

‘God. Seven more hours. I don’t know why I’m doing this, Jack. This is killing me.’

‘Don’t you remember?’ he smiled. ‘Dave Taylor is why you’re doing this.’

‘Bloody Uncle Dave,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I wish I’d never found that piece of paper.’

He patted her hand.

‘Think of it this way: in seven and a quarter hours it’ll all be over.’

‘What do I do until then? I couldn’t sleep last night so I’ve finished my book. Oh, I wish I had Tash here.’

‘Where is she? I thought she was coming.’

Pippa shook her head.

‘She texted me last night to say her boss is making them work all weekend.’

‘Bosses, eh? Who needs ’em?’

She managed a smile at Jack’s encouragement.

‘Yeah. Nothing but trouble, they are.’

He lifted an eyebrow.

‘Watch it. You won’t get your summer bonus if you slag off this boss.’

‘Doesn’t look much like summer out there,’ she said, nodding her head towards the window.

‘No, but it’s all good. The heavier the ground, the better for us. They say the storm is moving south so it should be clear by lunchtime. How are you getting home if Tash isn’t coming? You were both going to drive back to Helensvale, weren’t you?’

‘The same way I came, I guess. Catch the train.’

‘Rubbish. I’ll take you home.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘It’s on my way.’

Pippa weighed up his offer for a moment. Five hours on the train with three or four stops along the route compared with three hours in a warm car with Jack? No contest.

‘You sure?’

‘Of course. Although,’ he said with a grave expression, ‘if we win, I’ll probably be over the limit. In which case, we’re going to have to book in here for another night.’

Pippa sighed.

‘If we win? God, it seems impossible now. The National was so much easier to win six months ago.’

Jack chuckled.

‘We’re not without a shout. But if we’re to have any chance then I’d better get going. Finn and I have to get over to Aintree to walk the course.’

The prospect of doing something – anything – made Pippa perk up.

‘Can I come along?’

Jack hesitated.

‘Probably best you don’t.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, it’s wet out there and –’ He frowned. ‘And it’s a long way to walk. The course is over two miles long.’

True, Pippa admitted silently, it didn’t sound particularly attractive yet the thought of seven hours of doing virtually nothing was even less becoming.

‘I don’t mind.’

‘No, really. Just take your time getting ready. There’s a whole card of races before the National to take your mind off things. I’ll call you and pick you up before lunch.’

Her shoulders sagged. Great, now even Jack didn’t want her around. Fear, anxiety, despondency – everything that comes up on a manic depressive’s checklist, stirred inside her.

Jack reached over and tilted her chin so she was looking at him. His blue eyes implored hers.

‘Pippa, it’s going to be okay. Trust me.’

His concern acted like a comforter on a cold night. For a frightening moment, she thought she was going to cry. His hand slid along her jaw and he cupped her cheek. If his gaze hadn’t been so intense, she’d have been tempted to close her eyes against the warmth of his fingers.

‘Do you trust me?’ he asked, his voice low.

She gave him a faint nod.

‘I do.’

A smile, almost bashful, tugged at Jack’s lips.

‘Then trust me now. Stop worrying. No matter how adamant you might have been about entering Peace Offering in the National, we still wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think he was capable of running a good race.’

Pippa nodded again and managed a brave smile.

‘You trying to take the credit if he wins now?’

‘There now, that’s more like the Pippa we all know and love –’ Jack halted abruptly. His Adam’s Apple rose uneasily as he swallowed. His hand fell away and he wrung his fingers together. ‘Time I got going.’ He rose from his seat, jogging the table in his haste and dropping his napkin. ‘I’ll call you later.’

‘Okay,’ she croaked in reply. With a self-conscious frown, she cleared her throat, trying to quell her swirling hormones at the same time.

She watched him stride away, bumping into another table as he left the room.

With his exit, the temperature seemed to Pippa to drop ten degrees. She hugged her arms around her, wanting more than anything for lunchtime to arrive so she could find comfort in his broad-shouldered support once more.

She turned her attention to the plasma television hanging on the wall. A news team was previewing the big race of the afternoon.