Naive Awakening

‘Are you suggesting that I’m not competent enough to look after my brother?’

‘Did I say that?’

‘Please don’t play these verbal games with me,’ she said, making an effort to modulate her voice.

‘All right,’ he replied smoothly, ‘then let me ask you this; what do you intend to do with him now?’

Leigh frowned and had an uneasy feeling that she was being ushered into a trap. ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she said at last. ‘I intend to give him a sound ticking off, and keep my eye on him to make sure that he doesn’t get into any more trouble. Although, as I said, I think he’s learnt a lesson from this. Freddie’s no fool. I can’t see him doing this sort of thing again in a hurry. He’ll listen to me. He won’t end up in gaol!’

‘You mean, that’s what you hope. Tell me something; did you have any idea that he would be involved in this sort of incident?’

‘Well, I know that he hadn’t exactly been disciplined since Grandad died, but—’

‘And you really think that you can remedy that problem?’

‘Yes, I do!’ Her cheeks were flaming, and she stood up, quite prepared to walk out of the shop and to hell with any need to be grateful and polite.

‘Sit back down,’ he grated, and his words held enough of a command in them for her to reluctantly obey.

‘You can’t tell me how to run my life,’ she muttered mutinously.

‘I don’t need to,’ he said smoothly. ‘The mere fact that I’m here says it all, don’t you agree?’

There was very little that she could say to that, but the sheer logic of what he had just said didn’t stop her from feeling furiously angry. Angry at his arrogance, at his assumption that he could write off all her efforts with her brother without so much as an apology, and particularly angry at the way that he had somehow found precisely the right crack in her armour to render her defenceless.

Ever since Freddie’s arrest she had been plagued by self-doubts and by her anxiety at realising that her attempts to stabilise him after their grandfather’s death had clearly failed.

But the last thing she needed was Nicholas Reynolds reminding her of the fact in that patronising tone of voice.

‘Well, then,’ she said frozenly, ‘what do you suggest I do? Keep him chained to his bed as a lesson in discipline?’

‘I suggest,’ he said in measured tones, ‘that you leave Yorkshire.’

Mr Baird had brought them a plateful of home-made cakes, and she bit into one, eyeing him defensively over the pink icing.

‘What?’ she asked, not sure that she had heard correctly.

‘Leave Yorkshire.’

‘What a good idea,’ she bit out sarcastically, ‘perhaps we could rob a bank and spend the proceeds recuperating on the French Riviera. I hate to sound rude, Mr Reynolds—’

‘Nicholas, please. After all, it’s not as though we don’t know each other.’

She ignored his interruption. ‘But I resent you swanning up here with a bag full of good intentions and telling me how to run my life here. I have a good job at the library, and Freddie will settle down.’

‘And what if he doesn’t?’

Leigh almost choked on a mouthful of coffee. Just who did this man think he was anyway? Was he daring to tell her how to run her life? What right did he think he had?

Freddie was her responsibility, and she wasn’t going to have anyone preaching to her on her suitability as his guardian.

He clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘For God’s sake, stop acting as though I’m the big, bad wolf who has nothing better to do than pick on you.’

Leigh’s blue eyes stormily met his cool grey ones. She didn’t care for this man one jot, even as a boy he had managed to get under her skin, so why was she even listening to him as though she were being cross-examined in a witness box instead of sitting in Mr Baird’s coffee-shop?

‘What,’ he continued implacably, ‘do you, for instance, intend to do about Freddie’s education?’

‘He’s just sat his exams, and he’ll be leaving school…’

‘And do you think that’s fair? He’s a bright boy; what will he be leaving school to do? He told me that he would like to go on to specialise in cabinet-making, but that he didn’t know whether he would be able to or not.’

‘He told you that?’

‘Yes,’ Nicholas informed her.

Leigh surveyed him in silence. Right at this instant, it was a good thing that Freddie wasn’t around, because she could quite happily have strangled him.

She knew what he wanted well enough, but money was tight, and she had guiltily thought that he had accepted the fact. She had discussed it with him, and told him that he could do whatever he wanted after he had worked for a while and got some money together. It was the only thing she could think of.

How could he just go and pour out all their personal problems to a stranger?

God knew what else he had told this aggravating Mr Know-it-all.

‘There’s not much chance of that, not just at the moment. Maybe some time in the future.’

‘Because of your financial situation.’

Leigh nodded reluctantly. ‘Grandad’s money will really only help to keep the cottage running. It needs some pretty expensive repairs which we had all been putting off for a while, and which can’t be postponed for much longer. The roof needs work doing on it, I really would like to get some central heating put in, it needs repainting on the outside…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘The list goes on.’

‘More or less,’ she shrugged, hating the admission and thinking of all the other million and one things that still needed doing around the place, ‘but we can manage. With my salary, we should be able to muddle along.’

‘And what about you? Are you going to be happy just muddling along?’

There it was: that underlying criticism that made her feel somehow inadequate. If that was all he had to say, then she sincerely wished that he would just shut up. Did he really think she was depriving her brother of what he wanted through some perverted sense of enjoyment?

‘I don’t see where all this is leading, Mr Reynolds. Oh, sorry,’ she said with honeyed insincerity, ‘Nicholas. I can’t change the way things are at the moment, so if I have to accept us just muddling along for the time being, then I will.’

‘Have you thought about trying to change things?’

‘Have you thought about not sticking your nose into other people’s business?’

She felt a heel as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but she couldn’t take them back, so she looked down at her empty coffee-cup, refusing to meet his eyes.

‘I’ll choose to ignore that statement, though I’d like to remind you that I’m only here at all at my grand-father’s request,’ he said with silky smoothness, and she didn’t answer. She had known from the very first moment that she had set eyes on Nicholas Reynolds that he was a force to be reckoned with, but she had not known to what extent.

He was forcing her to face a few things which she would have been much happier ignoring for the time being, and she didn’t care for it one little bit

The fact that he was worlds apart from her only served to make things worse.

She glared at him, very tempted to tell him that he could choose to ignore it or not, it really didn’t matter to her. Instead she said in as controlled a voice as she could muster, ‘What do you suggest? I can’t change the way things are, I just have to cope the best that I can.’

She glared at him, highly annoyed that he had managed to nettle her when she should just have ignored everything he had to say. True, she was outspoken, but that was simply the way of the world around here. She was not normally given to shouting matches, and she found it infuriating that he was bringing out this side of her.

From behind the counter Mr Baird was looking in her direction with open curiosity. Now, she thought, it would be all around the village that she had had an argument with the lawyer from London, and what on earth could it be about?

She forced herself to smile at Nicholas.

‘When will you be heading back? You never said.’

It was an obvious switch in the conversation, and one which he ignored totally.

‘I’ve spoken with your solicitor about your financial state of affairs, and you’re finding it difficult to make ends meet, aren’t you? Admit it, that cottage of yours is falling down around your ears, isn’t it?’

‘That’s privileged information,’ Leigh gasped, horrified.

‘I persuaded your solicitor that it was in your interests not to keep me in the dark about your state of affairs.’

‘How thoughtful of you. So now that you’ve discovered what a wicked guardian I am, and how desperately badly off we are, you can climb into that expensive car of yours and clear off back to London. I’m of course very grateful for everything you’ve done, for putting yourself out, but, before you tell me yet again that we both need a change of scenery, we can’t afford it. As you have already found out for yourself.’

She had the awful feeling that everything private in her had just been scooped out and held up for public ridicule. Now all she wanted was to go back to the cottage and put any memories of this man to the very back of her mind.

‘Not so simple, I hate to disappoint you.’ He signalled to Mr Baird to bring them a fresh pot of coffee, and asked her whether she wanted any more cake.

She had already eaten three, but she nodded and asked Mr Baird if he could bring her one of his wife’s special custard-filled eclairs. She felt as though she needed it.

‘Are you normally such a voracious eater?’ he asked curiously. ‘No, don’t tell me, it’s the fresh country air. Unlike all that dirty smog you get in London, which has everyone turning away from food and walking around with sallow, pale complexions.’

Another injection of comic relief, she thought sourly. At my expense.

‘Hilarious,’ Leigh said.

‘Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, I can’t leave just yet, because you’re quite wrong. I didn’t only drive here so that I could help your brother.’

‘Really.’ She watched him with a nervous sensation in the pit of her stomach and wondered where all this was leading.

‘No. You see, my grandfather was horrified when he learnt about Freddie’s trouble. He and your grandfather, as you know, were very close. In fact, my grandfather considered Jacob one of his few true friends, someone who liked him for reasons that had nothing whatsoever to do with his title, or his money. He often said that Jacob was the only man who never hesitated to give him a lecture if he thought that it was necessary.’

Leigh felt a lump come to her throat at Nicholas’s words. She knew exactly what he meant. Her grandfather had been a down-to-earth, totally frank, and very caring man. He would never have been impressed by all the superficial paraphernalia which most people judged each other by.

‘Anyway,’ Nicholas continued, ‘when my grandfather heard about Freddie, he proposed that not only should I come up here, but that I should bring you both back to London with me so that he could look after both of you.’

‘What?’

‘You heard.’

‘I might have heard,’ Leigh said tersely, ‘but I didn’t believe. Look, I know your grandfather means well, and tell him thanks, but no, thanks. We can manage just fine here on our own. We don’t need charity.’

‘There’s no question of charity,’ Nicholas said in a cool voice. ‘My grandfather suggested it because it’s what he wants to do. As for not needing it, from the looks of it, you most certainly do.’

‘What do you mean?’ Leigh abandoned all attempt to be polite.

‘I think it would do you both good to leave Yorkshire for a while. My grandfather would pay for Freddie to go to college to study carpentry, which is what he wants to do, isn’t it?’

‘I can’t just pack in my job and go to London. What about Grandad’s cottage? Who’s going to look after it?’

‘A caretaker.’

‘I can’t accept your grandfather’s offer.’

‘You would sacrifice your brother’s ambitions because of pride?’

‘It’s not as simple as that,’ she muttered helplessly. ‘I have a job here. I’d never be able to pay you back, and I won’t be indebted.’

‘Oh, you won’t have to be.’ He leaned back in the chair and looked at her unhurriedly through narrowed eyes. ‘Believe me, my grandfather may be overflowing with the milk of human kindness for you and your brother, but the sentiment isn’t shared. Oh, no, you won’t be coming to London to enjoy a free ride with us. You can work for me, and as far as I can see that would sort out both our problems.’

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS ten days before Leigh and Freddie found themselves at King’s Cross station in London.

She had managed to persuade old Mr Edwards, one of her grandfather’s friends, to keep a regular eye on the cottage for them, in return for which she would keep him supplied in cherry pies whenever she made them. It had seemed a fair deal. In fact, it was only deal available since her finances couldn’t quite stretch to hiring a full-time caretaker.

Nicholas had been spot on target when he had pointed out her cash flow problems to her. The fact was that her money—what little she earned from her job and the small amount left to her by her grandfather—was just enough to make ends meet, and that was with some very acrobatic economising.

Which, she had thought bleakly after he had left, had been the crux of the problem. And he had manipulated it like the persuasive, successful barrister that he was.

Hadn’t he known instinctively what argument to use on her? That it was for Freddie’s benefit? And she, who had never been persuaded to do anything which she did not want to do, had found herself put into a position in which she could barely manoeuvre. She must go to London for the sake of her brother’s future and her own finances and stomach the fact that she was in a trap.

It had only been her brother’s enthusiasm for the idea that had stopped her from calling him up and telling him where he could put his stupid suggestion.

As for the job he had thrown her, she was sharp enough to realise that it was a gesture only partly designed to ease her conscience. After all, she thought, surveying the nerve-racking impersonality of the platform crowds, what did he care about her conscience? No, having mulled it all over, she could see quite clearly that his offer of a job was far more designed to ensure that he wasn’t lumbered with a couple of unwelcome unpaying guests. He basically didn’t want them cluttering up his smart London life, but since he had had little choice in the matter, what better than to make sure that she work for her keep?

She wondered whether he thought that they would stick to his grandfather’s generosity like two parasites and shamelessly eat them out of house and home.

Oh, he had exploited the situation admirably, and as far as she was concerned had left her bereft of any pride.

Now here they were, standing on the platform of a station the size of which she had never seen before, surrounded by their clutter of battered suitcases, some of which had been tied with string, and no porter in sight.

What seemed like thousands of people, more people in fact than lived in her entire village, hurried around them, carefully side-stepping their bags, intent on their business. In Yorkshire, she thought ruefully, there would have been no shortage of people willing to help them.

Her brother was lost in the novelty of it all, as he had been from the very minute he had stepped on to the train at their tiny station.

Leigh looked at him affectionately and promptly ordered him to go and find a trolley.

‘Where?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she said irritably, ‘just go and get one. If we wait for someone to come along and help us, we’ll be here till we go grey.’

He ambled off obediently, and left her to her thoughts. More doubts and a feeling of being completely out of her depth. She had been to Leeds a few times before, but only once to London when she was very young, when Freddie was only a baby, and it was as vast and confusing as she remembered.

She only hoped that Nicholas was outside waiting for them, as he had promised he would be, because if he wasn’t it would be another nightmare of waiting for a taxi to take them to the house in Hampstead.

Oh, God, she thought, why on earth had she ever agreed to come here? She didn’t belong here, she belonged in the country, where people only dressed up for special occasions, and the busiest place was the local market.

Here, everyone seemed so smartly dressed, lots of high heels and tailored skirts everywhere, and the men walking briskly in their suits and carrying briefcases! She couldn’t remember her grandfather ever wearing a suit, although he must have possessed one at some point in time.

She glanced down at her own outfit, a light flowered sleeveless dress falling softly around her slim figure, and a pair of sandals. She had even brought her straw hat with her, to protect her face from the sun.

She was quite pale-skinned, with a smattering of freckles, which always came out with a vengeance if she wasn’t very careful in the sun. She wished now that she had forgotten about the hat, because she imagined that it only served to emphasise how rustic she was.

Freddie returned with a trolley, and after what seemed like ages they managed to find their way through the ticket barrier, and outside the station, which was every bit as crowded as it had been outside.

‘Wow,’ Freddie crowed, staring around him, ‘have you ever seen crowds like these?’

‘Ask me whether I ever wanted to.’

‘Stop being so miserable,’ Freddie said, turning to her with a frown.

‘I’m not being miserable. I just miss all the open space.’

‘I don’t.’

‘I know you don’t. You’re like a little boy at Christmas-time!’

They laughed and she put her arm around him, noticing with amusement how he edged out of her embrace. Sisterly cuddles were taboo with him, especially sisterly cuddles administered in public.

She was looking around for Nicholas, when she heard his deep voice from behind her.

‘So I see you managed to find your way here all right.’

She swung around, blushing as the grey eyes ran over her, feeling oddly as though his scrutiny was stripping her of her clothing.

‘Yes. No problem at all.’ She was here now, and she would be polite, but there was no reason why she should be friendly. She couldn’t forget those thinly veiled insinuations that she was irresponsible when it came to Freddie, and a potential gold-digger who would be given a job if the alternative was her sponging off their hospitality.

‘Good.’ He picked up the cases as though they weighed nothing at all and began striding away. Leigh hurried behind him, clutching her hat, oddly mesmerised by his easy, graceful walk. There was nothing clumsy or cumbersome about him. In fact, from behind, he could well pass for an athlete of some kind.

He was chatting to Freddie, answering all his excited questions, getting along with him as though they had known each other for years. Obviously his hostility did not extend to her brother.

She would, she thought, have to have a serious word with him about being careful not to let London go to his head, and to remember that he was a country lad at heart. The last thing she wanted was for him to change.

The gleaming Jaguar seemed to fill Freddie with as much reverential awe as it had the last time he had seen it.

‘It’s just a car, Freddie,’ Leigh commented, halting his monologue on its engine capacity in mid-flow, and missing Nicholas’s raised eyebrow. ‘Metal on four wheels, designed to get you from A to B.’ She slid into the front seat and strapped herself in, inwardly admiring the walnut dashboard and the deep, luxurious seats.

‘A lot of women would be very impressed by this particular piece of metal on four wheels,’ Nicholas murmured, as he started the engine. His eyes slid along to her face, and Leigh purposefully ignored both him and the little leap of her pulse.

‘Really?’ she said, gazing with mixed feelings through the window. ‘I can’t see why. As far as I’m concerned, the last thing that would impress me about a man would be his car. Or, for that matter, the sort of house he lived in, or the kind of clothes he wore. All that’s superficial and doesn’t say a thing about the kind of person he is.’ So, she wanted to add, you needn’t worry that I’m after your money.

‘And have you been impressed by any men?’

Leigh frowned and didn’t answer, because as far as she was concerned it was none of his business whatsoever.

‘No,’ Freddie chipped in from the back seat, ‘she hasn’t had a boyfriend for ages, since she broke up with Dean Stanley, in fact.’

‘I’ll thank you to not go broadcasting my private affairs to all and sundry,’ she snapped. ‘You’re not too old to rediscover the meaning of punishment.’

Freddie made a face at her and resumed his attention to what they were passing, and Nicholas, she was annoyed to see, was looking vaguely amused by the interchange.

‘Anyway,’ she said in a honeyed voice, ‘is that why you drive this? So that you can impress girls?’

‘I don’t go out with girls,’ he replied, not at all disconcerted by her sarcasm, ‘I go out with women. And I don’t need to impress them with a car.’

Leigh refused to ask him what sort of things he used to impress them. There was an intonation to his voice, something soft and insinuating, that sent her mind racing and she firmly slapped it right back into place.

He took them a circuitous route, on Freddie’s pleading, pointing out all the sights to them, and still with that very slight edge of amusement to his voice, which went completely over Freddie’s head, but didn’t go over hers one bit.

After a while, though, she found herself listening to what he was saying, and actually enjoying his amusing descriptions of the buildings and landmarks. He had a dry wit which made her chuckle on a couple of occasions, even though she reminded herself that she didn’t care for him, or, for that matter, what he represented.

It was slightly over an hour later when the car pulled through the heavy gates which led on to the small courtyard in front of the house. The gardens were not massive—Leigh supposed that in London land was at a premium—but the house made up for that. It was enormous, the impressive frontage studded with numerous leaded windows.

Freddie whistled under his breath, and she said wryly, ‘I can see that there won’t be a shortage of space here. Do you realise that your house is bigger than the one hotel in our village?’

‘I thought you weren’t impressed by outward trappings.’

‘I’m not,’ she retorted, rising to his bait, ‘I’m merely stating a fact. Do you and your grandfather live here alone?’

‘Most of the year. My parents come over for two months every winter, and there are several people who help look after the house and garden.’

The Jaguar pulled up outside the front door, and Leigh stepped outside, her hat clutched firmly in both hands, her head thrown back as she studied the grandeur of the place. She had not bothered to tie her hair back and it fell down her back, silken copper set ablaze by the sun.

Nicholas had stopped a few feet behind her. He shook his head, as if clearing it of some niggling thought, and brushed past her, opening the front door which had been double locked.

At once there was an oldish man there, waiting to take their cases, and another middle-aged woman hovering in the background, waiting to show them to their re-spective bedrooms.

Leigh would have preferred to stay where she was for a while, and admire the house, if house was the right word. The décor was impeccable, all shades of white and cream, with just enough colour from the pictures on the walls and the huge pots of flowering plants to stop it from sliding into blandness.

A huge winding staircase, stripped with deep burgundy carpeting, ran to the upstairs bedrooms, and probably continued further. She knew, from the outside of the house, that there were three floors. Three floors of rooms all sumptuously decorated.