Never Too Late (24 page)

She gasped. “That’s why Jake was in your office that day? I thought he was furious about the accounts.”

 “No,” Martin took a sip of his coffee. “The only reason Francine sold Barrowdene to him was to get back at me.”

“I don’t understand. Why would she want to do that?”

“Because I was a coward. I wouldn’t leave Belinda for her.”

Molly stared at him.

“I haven’t been a faithful husband, Molly,” he said with a grimace. “But I haven’t been a good enough lover either. I thought I could have everything, keep the respectable life I’ve built till now and still have the woman I loved. I didn’t really listen to Francine’s needs. She’s a good woman, and more loving than I deserve. I should have known she was too good to be just a mistress on the side, and to her credit she kept my secret for long enough. But it would never have lasted.”

“How long has this been going on?” she asked, finding her voice again.

“Since Francine first came to Barrowdene, and, well…” He shrugged. “She was alone, and I was… well, I wasn’t that happy with my situation. It’s why she didn’t sell Barrowdene straightaway. It gave her an excuse to stay on as my client, and because I was looking after the estate for her, nobody asked questions if we saw each other regularly.”

“But Francine was hardly ever here in Appleby… London! Don’t tell me your weekend trips were to meet Francine?”

Martin nodded, looking sheepish. “I had client meetings too… but it was the only place we could be free. Sometimes London. Sometimes Paris.” He looked wistful. “Those were good times.”

“Oh, Martin.” She looked at him with compassion. She knew him well enough to guess his life with Belinda must have been hell, even though he never talked about it. “Did Belinda never suspect?”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face and straggly beard. “I never spoke of Francine in front of her. But recently she’d begun to question my work hours, my absence. Maybe… yes, maybe she suspected something.”

Molly groaned. “She thinks you’re having an affair with me.”

“Good heavens! Why would Belinda think such a thing? Has she approached you about it?”

“A couple of times,” she said with a nod. “Though, until now, I thought it was her insecurity.”

“Molly, I am so sorry.” He shook his head in remorse. “I never thought you’d be dragged into this mess. You must think I’m the worst of husbands, and I suppose I am in many ways, but in my defence, all I can say is that I found love after a long long time. Francine let me be a man again.” He laughed, a short self-depreciating bark. “I’d begun to forget what that felt like.”

“I’m not judging you, Martin.” She gave him a sad smile. “We all ache for that sort of love, don’t we? Maybe even Belinda must have once loved like that.”

Martin snorted. “Love? That’s not what I had with Belinda. Lust, maybe, once.” He looked at her with a wry smile. “I’m not surprised she suspected you. She was my secretary too, many years ago. That’s how we came together. She made herself indispensable to me, and fool that I was, I fell for the charm.”

Her eyes widened. That actually made a lot of sense.

“But I’m ready to pay the price of freedom now,” he said, looking resolute like a soldier about to heroically step into enemy fire. “Belinda can take whatever she wants. It’ll be worth it. But…” His eyes dimmed in sadness. “It would have been more bearable if Francine was here.” He shook his head. “I should have left Belinda a long time ago, when Francine first asked me to be honest about our relationship, but I was too much of a coward, too scared to take the next step. What’s a person’s life worth if he clings to the old and broken despite the loss and suffering it causes him? I would beg her forgiveness, for not acknowledging my love, and for not recognizing how much she truly means to me. That’s all I want to tell her.”

Molly placed a hand on his. “She’ll come back to you, Martin. It sounds like you two really love each other.”

“Yes, that’s my only hope now, that she’ll seek me out. I had hoped Hennessy might have some information about her. She even went so far as to pretend she was having an affair with him to make me jealous. I fell for it for a while. The man is the type to have all sorts of women throwing themselves at him, but after she disappeared, I knew it had all been a lie.”

A thought struck her and she brightened. “Martin, Jake did mention something. He said Francine went to the Lake District.”

Martin’s eyes rounded. “Of course! What a fool! I’ve been an idiot.” He swung the covers off and shifted his weight to stand, causing her to jump off the bed. “I have to find her.” He heaved himself to his feet, where he wobbled precariously until he grabbed the headboard to steady himself.

She glared at him. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere. You’ve had way too much of Nate’s wine, and you’ll end up killing yourself and someone else if you try to drive even five metres now, let alone hundreds of miles to the north of England.” She guided him back on to the bed. “Promise me you’ll sleep this off first.”

With a groan and a nod he acquiesced, and she gently helped him lie back down again. His eyes were already closing as she tucked the covers around him, and silently, she went to the door and switched off the light before closing the door behind her. He would forgive her heavy handedness when he woke feeling better in the morning.

* * *

She woke later than usual on Saturday morning, and when she checked her bedroom, Martin was gone. Her bed had been made and a short note left on her dressing table, ‘Will be in touch after I find Francine.’

Folding the note, she placed it in the table’s small side drawer. She’d fallen asleep soon after leaving Martin last night and hadn’t woken for anything. Hopefully he hadn’t left in the middle of the night, but the steady bold handwriting on his note was some consolation. At least he’d been sober at the time he wrote it.

A relentless thumping on the front door cut off her worries.

With a groan, she tightened the belt of her fluffy pink dressing gown and rushed downstairs.

It was already seven forty-five. The decorators would arrive at eight sharp ready to begin in Barrowdene’s upstairs bedrooms, but this was still a little early for someone to be knocking at the cottage.

She yanked open the door to find Nate stamping around impatiently in the cool morning light. 

He shook his head, tutting at the sight of her robe and fluffy bunny slippers. “I need you outside, gal. There’s a van full of people landed from the city saying yer to tell them what to do.”

Molly blinked. “What people? You don’t mean the decorators, do you?”

“Not them. I knows them. These ones say they’re here for the party.”

“The caterers?” she asked, stunned. “What on earth are they doing here so early?”

Nate scowled. “You ask them that. I bloody don’t want them here at all. They’ve got these big tent things and they’re wanting to dig holes to set them up. Well, not on my neat lawn they don’t.”

“Okay. Okay. Don’t frighten them off. Let me get changed and I’ll be with you. Just ask them… politely, not to do anything until I’m there.”

With a grunt, he stomped off. And closing the door, she rushed upstairs to the bathroom. She’d have to shower and dress in record time. Nate’s patience was shorter than a dot and she didn’t want Jake to return and find out he had no caterers for his open evening.

By the time Molly sprinted to the front of Barrowdene house ten minutes later, a full scale war was raging. 

A black-clad dumpy lady, with a severe dark bob and heavy-rimmed glasses was shouting at a furious Nate and waggling a slim touch tablet in his face. They were making enough noise that most of the stable girls, including Kitty, had wandered over to see what the fuss was. The decorators, who looked like they’d just arrived, were moving slower than thick treacle in an effort to look busy unloading their equipment from the back of the van while not missing the squabble at the same time. And ten or so uniformed caterers were lined up outside their blue and white van gawking as their angry little leader squared up to a frazzled-looking Nate.

Pushing past the stable girls, Molly sped to a breathless halt beside Nate.

The tablet stopped waggling and the dumpy lady looked her up and down with a frown. “Ms King?”

Molly nodded, gulping in air to steady her breath. She’d thrown on simple jeans and an orange t-shirt, hardly adventurous enough to warrant the type of assessing look the woman was giving her. 

The woman adjusted her glasses. “I’m sorry. I was told the housekeeper was an older woman.”

“My Nan.” She stood straighter now that she’d caught her breath. “But I can help you with things here. My name’s Molly.”

She held out her hand and the other woman grasped it in a warm handshake. “Norma. I work for Major & Carter. You’ve no doubt heard of us.”

Heat spread up Molly’s cheeks. Was she supposed to know of these sort of companies? But if they weren’t famous in Appleby, then no, she hadn’t heard of them. It was just another reminder of how gauche she really was.

Nate snorted. “Don’t care if yer the Queen’s pot stirrers. You can’t be lording it over people here.”

Norma glared at him. “For your information, we actually have catered for royal events, so we’re well aware how things are done. Our company has more than four hundred staff in several countries. We’re just one team.” She waved a hand towards her companions lounging by their van. “But we’re more than capable for any job.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are more than capable for the job,” Molly said hastily, trying to soothe the simmering tension. “That’s why Jake contracted you, isn’t it?”

Norma straightened with pride and clutched the tablet to her ample bosom. “Yes, we’re the best in the business.” She leaned confidingly towards Molly. “It was rather last minute, since we only got the call yesterday, but luckily we’re able to handle these situations, and Mr Hennessy’s not the sort of person you turn down.”

Molly nodded. Jake had become a part of Appleby and her life, but here before her stood another reminder he came from a world she knew nothing about. “Well, I’m grateful you could make it at such short notice, and we’ll help you with anything you need to set up. Though… it does seem a bit early.”

Frowning, Norma poked her tablet screen. “Your function is scheduled to start before noon, isn’t it?”

Nate guffawed and slapped his thigh. “That’s what you get for using a piece of glass for a brain. You could have had some extra kip this morning instead of hightailing it over here to make a nuisance of yerselves.”

“It’s for eight this evening,” Molly said apologetically. 

Norma’s face fell. “We got you mixed up with another booking.” She glanced over at her waiting colleagues, who were anxiously muttering among themselves now. “Give me a second while I… is that Mr Hennessy?”

Molly followed her gaze to the pristine white Range Rover speeding up Barrowdene’s driveway, and recognizing it, automatically crossed her arms across her chest in a protective gesture. “No, that’s not him.”

The vehicle sped to a halt before them in a shower of gravel and the driver’s door was flung open.

“Oh, bugger,” Nate muttered, backing off behind Molly.

“Where is he?” Belinda snarled, jumping out of the Range Rover and marching up to Molly, looking like a fiery headmistress in a mud-brown tweed skirt and chilli-red jacket.

Molly clenched her jaw. All ears had perked up around her, and the last thing she wanted was for this to descend into a typical Belinda-style slanging match. She had to get rid of the woman fast, but how to do that without giving away Martin and Francine? “He’s not here, Belinda, and I don’t know where he’s gone.” Not exactly true, but close enough.

“But he was with you last night.” She jabbed a finger in Nate’s direction. “He told people at the pub that Martin came looking for you yesterday.”

Molly shot Nate an exasperated look.

“It’s all I said. I swear,” he said, ducking his head sheepishly. 

“You don’t need to say more.” Belinda rounded on him. “I know exactly what’s going on.”

“No, you don’t.” Molly glared at her. “And I don’t want to hear any of your innuendos. Go home and wait for Martin to speak to you himself.”

Belinda smirked. “Innuendo? Oh, it’s more than innuendo, dear. It’s hardly a stretch to believe Martin was in your bed last night. You’re open for all takers, aren’t you? Why, everyone knows you’re sleeping with Jake Hennessy, hoping he’ll marry you and give you Barrowdene. It’s the joke of the village.”

Blood pounded in Molly’s ears as sheer fury left her gaping. Her face burning, she uncrossed her arms and balled her hands into fists at her side. “You… you
evil
hag. You better shut up. Now!”

Belinda laughed. “Did that touch a nerve? Of course it would, because it’s the truth, and do you know how I know it? It was your dear Brian who told everyone. I guess he got tired of playing second fiddle.”

Molly reeled back in shock. Brian said that? This last betrayal of his hit like a lead bullet to the heart, stripping all fight from her.

Nate caught hold of her slumped shoulders from behind. “That’s enough, you hear?” he said to Belinda. “We don’t need any more of this cock an’ bull. Get yerself away.”

“Tell Martin he’ll find his belongings on the road,” Belinda said with a dismissive look. “If he’s off a mind to pick them up, that is.” And with that she got back in the Range Rover and fired up the engine.

“Yer not to listen to any of that hogwash, gal.” Nate said, his hands comforting on Molly’s shoulders as Belinda drove off.

She shook her head, agonizingly aware of the transfixed crowd around them, and unable to look at anyone right then. “I’m sorry, Nate. I need a moment, okay?” she whispered.

Nate released her. And head down, arms wrapped tight around herself, she turned and pushed past people to make towards Rose Cottage.

Kitty, looking concerned, opened her mouth to say something as Molly passed, but with a quick shake of her head, Molly walked on. Nothing anyone had to say would help. Not anymore.

Molly stood in one of the newly decorated upstairs bedrooms. The smell of paint lingered in the dark around her as she gazed out of the tall window at Barrowdene’s drive below.