Mistakes We Make (28 page)

‘We’ll need to start rehearsing.’

‘Who did we decide was going in?’

‘Just you, me and Ken. Me as principal, you on the event-management side of it, and Ken on the digital and social media elements.’

‘Yes, that sounds right. When’s the pitch?’

‘Next Tuesday, at their offices. There’ll be—’ he scanned his notes, ‘—six of them. A bit intimidating, but we’ll keep our team really tight. If there are too many people we’ll lose control.’

‘Next Tuesday?’ Molly picked up her diary. ‘Oh God, no. I can’t do it, Barnaby.’

Barnaby looked startled. ‘Can’t do it? What do you mean?’

‘That’s the day of the christening. Lexie and Patrick’s baby, Keira. I’m godmother. Remember, I told you? I’ve got the air ticket already.’

‘Can’t be helped.’

‘What do you mean?’

Heads were swivelling in their direction. A public row was unthinkable. Molly put her diary down and nodded in the direction of Barnaby’s glass-walled office. In the open plan space, he was the only one to have any kind of privacy.

‘I can’t do it,’ she hissed as soon as the door had swung shut.

He crossed his arms. ‘There isn’t a choice, Molly. This isn’t some game, this is business. Our business, let me remind you.’

‘I’ve made a commitment. It’s the first time I’ve asked for even a single day off, Barnaby.’

‘You’re committed to Fletcher Keir Mason. Don’t think I’m unsympathetic, but it’s impossible.’

‘Can’t you take someone else in with you?’

‘No.’ He uncrossed his arms and looked at her more compassionately. ‘I really am sorry, Molly, but it won’t do. It has to be the three directors for this one.’

‘Can’t we change the date?’

‘You know that’s not on. We have to go in, every inch eagerness; we can’t mess them around before we’ve even got the contract.’

Molly could feel tears pricking and made a ferocious attempt to blink them away. She’d have to let Lexie and Patrick down – how awful was that? They probably wouldn’t even want her to be Keira’s godmother if she couldn’t make the effort to get to the christening, and she didn’t blame them in the least.

‘This is what you wanted, Molly,’ Barnaby said, his voice gentle. ‘This is the life you’ve chosen. You’re doing a terrific job. Things are just beginning to work. Your friends will understand.’

‘I expect they will.’ Molly made a big effort and pulled herself together. She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled. ‘We’d just better get the damn contract, that’s all.’

‘Good girl. Want me to call Lexie and explain?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘Right then.’

‘Right.’

She tested the water with her father first, choosing the words of her confession with care as she strode out for a sandwich. The day had turned blustery and damp and she hadn’t come prepared. She could feel drizzly drops of rain on her face as she walked. Too bad.

‘I can’t do it. You do see that, Dad, don’t you?’ she said into her mobile, dodging out of the way of first one car and then a bike as she tried, ill advisedly, to cross the road against the flow of traffic. ‘I feel caught in a trap, but I don’t see what else I can do. The business has to come first because there are many other people involved. People whose mortgages are depending on us winning new business.’

‘It can’t be helped, love. Lexie will understand.’

‘Do you think so? Maybe she will, but I’m hating the thought of having to tell her. You know I can’t stand letting people down.’

‘I’m sure she’ll find a way round it. She knows how important the new business is to you.’

‘It shouldn’t make me break promises to my friends.’

‘These things happen. In the scale of things—’

He went quiet and Molly knew instantly what he was thinking of.

‘I’m guessing there’s still no news of Logan,’ she said, without any hope.

‘Not yet, love, no.’

Molly had arrived at the sandwich shop. Rain had started to trickle down her neck. She shrank into her jacket. It didn’t help.

‘You would tell me,’ she said, ‘if there was? Even if it was bad?’

‘Course I would.’

Three people pushed past her, then a fourth. She didn’t feel like standing here and she couldn’t go inside and keep talking on the phone, not about things like this. She turned and carried on walking. A few yards further on, she stepped under an archway. There were still many passers-by, but no eavesdroppers.

‘I don’t like not being up there with you,’ she said.

‘I’m fine. Adrienne went away again yesterday, so the boys are playing up a bit, but they’re fine too.’

Molly sighed. She’d never thought that following her dream would be so difficult.

‘Stick with it, darling,’ Billy said, some intuition leading him to her innermost thoughts. ‘It’ll work out.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’

‘I won’t keep you, love. You must have a million things to do. Call me tomorrow?’

‘I will. Love you, Dad.’

‘And you.’

She called Lexie at once, before she had time to think too much more about it. There was no choice, she’d accepted that, but she hated doing this.

Lexie was surprisingly philosophical. ‘Ah well. I should have guessed there’d be something.’

‘Lexie! I hope you don’t think so badly of me.’

‘It’s just that you’re always so busy. I know what your life’s like. It’s always been like that, and I’m guessing it’s even worse now you’re in London.’

‘I don’t let my friends down. At least, I try not to. You know I’d move heaven and earth to get there if I could.’

‘I know. Don’t upset yourself, Molly, it’s not the end of the world.’

‘It is to me!’

Lexie would have made the christening a priority. Lexie had always put her family first, even sacrificing her career to be with her parents after Jamie died. Molly, fiercely loyal though she was, found such choices more difficult.

‘Keira’s crying, I’ll have to go.’

‘Lexie – I guess you won’t want me as a godparent now?’ Molly held back tears.

‘Of course I want you, honey, but I’ll have to check if the godparents have to be present. I think they do.’

‘Ohhh—’

‘I’ll get back to you. Don’t beat yourself up, there’ll be more.’

‘More what?’

‘Children. At least, I hope there will be.’ The whimpering in the background became a wail. ‘Got to go. Speak soon. Love you, bye!’

Molly stared at the phone. Why was it that everyone she knew was surrounded by family and she was on her own?

Don’t be childish, she reproached herself, you’ve made your choices, just get on with it. By the time she’d queued for a sandwich and started marching back to the office, the rain had stopped and a watery sun was fighting its way through the clouds.

She didn’t expect to hear from her father again so soon, but he called her at four. He never called her during working hours. Mostly he waited for her to call him. She snatched her mobile up from her desk and answered it at once.

‘Hello, Dad? Is something up?’

‘Logan’s been found.’

‘Logan!’

She bounced off her seat and ran out of the office.

‘Logan’s back? Tell me what happened. Where is he? Is he all right? What’s happening? Do you need me?’

‘Shhh, let me talk.’

‘Sorry, Dad. Sorry. Tell me.’

She was breathless with nerves.

‘I’ve just had a call from Adam—’

Of course Adam would know before she did. He’d be the first the police would tell. All the same, Molly couldn’t help feeling cross. After all, Logan was her brother.

‘—because his parents have just phoned him.’

‘You’re not making sense, Dad.’

‘Give me a chance, will you? The Blairs have a place in Italy. They’ve moved out there permanently, and they came across Logan yesterday in their local bar.’

Umbria. The house on the hill. Molly pictured it instantly – she’d been there with Adam half a dozen times. It wasn’t big, or pretentious, but it was very pretty, a rose-brick building in a quiet street in the village. It had breathtaking views across a valley full of olive trees. The bar was less than ten minutes away by foot. It was a small place, one room only, with tables that spilled out across the pavement and, in high summer, onto the street itself. Bar Tosca. She could even see the neon sign above the door, a modern addition the locals liked to scoff at, although the owner, Gianni Lazzaro, was stupidly proud of it.

Logan and Adrienne had been there once. They’d dropped in for lunch when Adam and Molly had been visiting. She remembered a searingly hot summer’s day. The boys had been tiny, Alastair grizzly and out of sorts in the oppressive heat, and they’d all wandered down to the bar and sat in the shade and fed the boys messily with pasta and ice cream.

If Logan had been found in the bar, it was because he wanted to be found.

‘Is he all right?’

‘He was drunk, apparently, and very scruffy.’

Logan, scruffy? Molly pictured him in his Savile Row suits and immaculate shirts and found ‘scruffy’ difficult to imagine.

‘I think he’d run out of money. Rosemary and James got him back to the house and cleaned him up. They let him sleep till this morning, then fed him coffee and
bomboloni con la crema
and persuaded him to turn himself in to the police.’

‘So he’s in custody?’

‘Apparently so. I think there’ll be some formalities to go through, then they’ll escort him back here.’

Molly sagged back against the marble clad wall. She was trembling. ‘Thank God,’ she said. ‘Thank God they’ve found him, Dad.’

‘Yes. It’s not going to be easy, pet, but he’s alive and he’s safe.’

Billy’s voice cracked and Molly found she was sobbing.

‘Oh, Dad!’

‘Molly, love—’

The lift halted and two members of staff walked out, staring at her curiously, then averting their eyes, embarrassed, but she didn’t care about the tears. Logan was safe! The boys had a father. Adrienne had a husband. She had a brother. Billy had his son back. Whatever Logan had done wrong, they’d get through it.

‘I’ll come up.’

‘I thought you—’

‘I can’t make the christening, there’s something really important on that day, but I’ll come up this weekend. To hell with the cost. I want to see Logan – and you and the boys and everyone.’

The need to be surrounded by her family had become overpowering.

––––––––

C
aitlyn decided not to inform the police about the incident with Ricky McQuade.

‘I couldn’t face the endless questions, Mum. I’d have to make statements, maybe stand up in court ... I’d have to relive it again and again, be questioned by some eager young barrister keen to make his mark. They mightn’t believe me.’

‘There are witnesses – Wallace and Ailsa—’

‘No! I won’t have Ailsa dragged into it. She’s shaken enough as it is.’

‘Well, I do understand, lovey. If you’re sure. But Ricky might—’

‘He won’t do that again. Not to me, anyway. You should have seen his face, Mum, when Wallace had him in a headlock. He was terrified.’

‘Serves him right.’

‘Yes, it does. Wonder if he confessed to his mother.’

‘He didn’t. But I told her.’

‘You didn’t!’

‘I saw her down the street and gave her a right piece of my mind.’

‘Bet she didn’t believe you.’

‘She didn’t, not at first, but then she remembered Ricky coming in that night in a right old state with some cock and bull story about a fight and began to think about it.’

‘Weren’t you afraid she’d have a go at you?’

‘Angie McQuade?’ Joyce scoffed, laughing. ‘I’ve known Angie since we were in school. She was all mouth and no brains then and she’s no better now. She’s not all bad, though. My reckoning is she’d have gone home and given him a skelping, or got that lout of a man of hers to do it, never mind that the lad’s the same age as you. They always did beat their kids, the McQuades.’

‘Didn’t have much of an effect, not if they meant to teach them how to behave.’

‘You’re right at that.’

Malkie didn’t phone for a week.

‘Hi, Caitlyn, how’s things going?’

His careful cheeriness hurt. He loved her, but he had no idea what had happened. If they hadn’t quarrelled, he would have been taking her home, as he always did, and she would never have been exposed to Ricky and his friends.

She couldn’t find the words to tell him. The whole episode was too vile, too painful, too degrading. If he’d dropped by instead of phoning, he would have seen the bruises and asked questions, and perhaps she would have fallen into his arms and everything would have been just like it was before.

‘I’m fine,’ she said coolly. ‘You?’

‘I’m OK. Been busy.’

‘Right.’ She paused, aching for consolation – but her hurt had begun to curdle into resentment, and distress was making her cool. ‘Have you moved into the cottage yet?’

‘Not yet. They’re going to give it a lick of paint. Caitlyn?’

‘Yes?’

‘We need to talk, don’t we?’

Despite herself, she was touched. Malkie was more of a listener than a talker, and the suggestion must have cost him. She remembered her bruises.

‘OK. Maybe next week?’

Now it was his turn to sound hurt. ‘I get the point, Caitlyn. You want your independence. Fine. Give me a phone when you’re ready.’

He cut the call abruptly.

Caitlyn closed her eyes. Why did life have to be so complicated?

‘There’s someone to see you,’ Ailsa said. She’d closed the door to the hall, which Caitlyn thought was odd because normally they didn’t bother unless it was very cold and they needed to keep out the draught.

Caitlyn was watching
Pointless
. The boys were playing upstairs and Isla May was round at Mariella’s. She zapped the remote and the sound went off.

‘Malkie?’ she exclaimed, hope in her voice.

Ailsa shook her head violently. She was pulling strange faces and gesticulating at the hallway. ‘It’s Ricky McQuade,’ she hissed. ‘What do you want to do?’

Caitlyn leapt to her feet. ‘Ricky’s here?’

‘Yup.’

‘On his own?’

‘Yup. Shall I send him away?’

Demons, Caitlyn thought, are better faced. She could not spend her life jumping at shadows. ‘No. Show him in.’ She clutched at Ailsa’s hand. ‘But stay with me?’