Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
AFTER ALMOST THREE weeks, Luke came to the realisation that Ash, or Emmy, or whoever she was, had gone from his life. He hadn’t heard a single word from her in all that time. Not even a whisper. But that didn’t stop him from worrying about how she was coping.
Did she have enough money? He should have offered her some before she left, he realised now. After all, she’d only worked for a month while she was in England, and that job had paid minimum wage. And what about somewhere to live? Was she staying with Dan or perhaps that small, loud chap? What was his name? Bradley? He’d seemed friendly enough, albeit more concerned with what she was wearing than her welfare.
And that wasn’t the worst of it. Ash’s frame of mind worried Luke more than her physical well-being. The last few times he’d seen her, she’d had an aura of sadness, a pain lurking behind her soft brown eyes. What had happened in her past to make her that way? Why hadn’t he spent more time talking and less time peeling her out of her clothes?
For the past fortnight, he’d done little more than sit around the house, trying to look after Tia and occasionally attempting to work, without much success on either count. At least Tia hadn’t turned back into the devil-child she’d been three months ago. Hey, yesterday she’d offered to empty the dishwasher.
On Monday he’d ventured into the office, only to spend more time on Google than corporate affairs. Ashlyn Hale, Ash Hale, Emmy Hale, Emily Hale… He’d searched every possible permutation, but nothing relevant came up for any of them. After making a fool of himself in his first meeting because he couldn’t remember key details of his own product, he’d dragged an intern to the next to take notes for him. Notes he still hadn’t read. And worse, when he’d ventured to the break room to fetch a cup of tea, he’d interrupted a cluster of red-faced employees around the water cooler, whispering about his mental state.
“I’m going to work from home for the rest of the week,” he told his secretary after that. “Call me if anything important comes up.”
So, there he was, lying on the sofa at three in the afternoon, wearing the same pair of jeans and T-shirt he’d slept in for the past four nights. Evidence of the two king-sized Snickers bars and family-sized bag of crisps he’d eaten for lunch lay discarded on the floor beside him, and he’d absentmindedly watched four back-to-back episodes of The Jeremy Kyle Show .
Still, at least his beard was coming along nicely.
He picked up his can of beer and took a long gulp. Why stick to soft drinks when he planned to stay at home for the entire day? Arabella’s mother was picking the girls up, which meant Luke didn’t need to move until tomorrow morning.
Mental note: remind his housekeeper to buy another bottle of whisky.
Since the kidnapping, Luke had been holding onto a thread of hope that Ash would get in touch, but now that was all but frayed through.
“Anything from Ash?” Tia still asked every day, but her voice was devoid of its initial optimism.
“No, nothing.”
As the days wore on, Luke’s hurt turned to confusion. Why had Ash left England so fast? Sure, he’d yelled at her, but he thought they’d got past that during their days in London. Yes, she’d been distant, but she hadn’t blanked him like one ex did when he’d accidentally spelled her name wrong in her birthday card. Who spelled Jessica with a Y in it? No, Ash hadn’t borne an obvious grudge. And didn’t all couples have arguments? If they could only talk, he’d apologise for whatever he’d done, she could explain why she hadn’t told the truth, and maybe they’d have a chance at a future together. All she needed to do was come back.
He shifted on the sofa because one butt cheek had gone to sleep. Perhaps he should invest in more comfortable furniture? One of those massage chairs or something, as long as he could order it off the internet.
Groaning, Luke blew out a long breath. Hadn’t Ash felt the same way he did? In his head, he’d started planning a future with her by his side, one filled with love and laughter. Despite their different backgrounds, they’d clicked. But maybe they’d just been too different? Him, a millionaire with a crazy work ethic and a love of extreme sports, and her, the housewife turned stable girl who led a quiet life. Or so he’d thought.
What good was his money now? All those millions couldn’t buy the normality he craved. Once, the status quo had meant flaunting a piece of arm candy that cost him plenty in clothes and jewellery but not much in terms of emotional involvement. Then Ash came along and he discovered the joy of companionship. Having someone to come home to each evening sure beat the parade of insipid socialites. But it had to be the right “someone.”
Wow, this was all getting a bit too Sigmund Freud for a weekday.
The door slammed, breaking him out of his melancholy. Thirty seconds later, Tia arrived in front of him, hands on hips.
“Have you been lying there all day?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“It’s not even five o’clock, and you’re already on your fourth can of beer. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“No, you’re right.” He glanced at his watch for confirmation. “It’s time I switched to wine. Can you bring me a bottle from the kitchen?”
“No, I can’t! You need to get up and start acting normal again. You’ve been lying there for weeks eating rubbish and getting drunk. The gym’s got cobwebs, and you stink.”
Her mouth set in a hard line, and she glared at him.
“Okay, I’ll get my own wine.”
Tia whirled away and clomped up the stairs to her bedroom.
What was normal anymore?
The next afternoon, Luke rolled over on the sofa, accidentally squashing a packet of biscuits. Sheesh, they’d spilled out and melted onto the cushion. At least the dark chocolate matched the leather. He briefly considered clearing up, but soon forgot the mess as a particularly enthralling episode of Bargain Hunt distracted him. Who knew somebody would pay so much for an ugly porcelain cow?
Five o’clock, and the click of Tia’s key in the front door made him glance over at the coffee table. He’d run out of beer again. Would she bring him a drink tonight, or was she determined to stick with the holier-than-thou attitude?
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, stopping outside the door.
“He’s in there,” Tia said.
A few seconds later, the door to the den was pushed open and a shadow fell over Luke. Uh oh. Tia had brought reinforcements in the form of Arabella’s brother, Mark, and another friend of theirs, Rob.
“Good grief, mate,” Mark said. “Tia warned you’d turned into a slob, but I didn’t think it’d be this bad. Your jeans could stand up on their own. And what’s with the beard?”
Luke struggled up into a sitting position. “I wanted a bit of ‘me’ time.”
“What are you? A flipping woman?”
“I just felt like taking a day off. I do own the company. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“We’re staging an intervention. You’re not lying there watching…” Rob squinted at the TV screen. “Watching Loose Women any longer. Now, get off your pasty backside and take a shower. We’ll wait.”
“I’m not watching…”
Oh. Mark was right. Bargain Hunt must have finished.
Luke toyed with the idea of telling the pair of them to get lost, but then he realised they were right—he couldn’t spend the rest of his life slumped in front of the television, even if it was a fifty-inch flat screen with voice control and surround sound. And he didn’t understand that program where a bunch of middle-aged women sat around chatting.
“Fine, I’ll shower.”
He dragged himself upstairs, reeling at the smell coming from his armpits. Nasty. Perhaps he should try bleach rather than a bottle of Lynx?
As Luke became reacquainted with his double-width shower stall, he couldn’t help thinking of the times Ash had shared it with him. Would he ever get over her? He tried—and failed—to block her pretty face from his mind as he pulled on a clean shirt and jeans.
When he got back downstairs, Rob was bent over the pool table, and he potted a red as Luke walked into the den.
“Lucky shot,” Mark said.
“That was pure skill, pal.” He threw a glance at Luke. “Give me two minutes to finish thrashing Mark, then we’re going to the pub.”
“Whatever.”
Anything to get out of this house and its constant reminders of Ash. One of her jumpers still lay draped over the back of the sofa, the faint scent of the Ralph Lauren perfume Luke had bought her still lingered in the air, and every time Luke moved something, he found another stray hair tie.
“Let’s head into London,” Mark suggested. “If we go to the pub in the village, everyone’ll want to know why Luke’s channelling a hobo.”
Not to mention asking where Ash was. No point in fuelling the local rumour mill—it did quite well enough without someone chucking a bucket of petrol over it.
“Fine.”
“All those millions and you couldn’t afford a razor? I’ll donate one if you’ll shave that scruff off your face.”
“Pack it in, would you?”
Losing the beard wouldn’t make much difference, anyway. Not when his eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath and his mouth had forgotten how to smile.
“This looks like a decent place,” Mark said
Luke trailed behind him into the sports bar, grimacing slightly when his shoes stuck to the floor. Still, the prices were reasonable by London standards, and the barmaids worked fast enough to keep the queue short. Chelsea vs. Manchester United played on the big screen, and as Chelsea were two goals up, the atmosphere was positively jovial.
“Your round,” Mark told Rob as they bagged a table with a good view of the screen. “Carlsberg for me.”
Luke slumped into his seat, half drunk already. A few minutes later, Rob came back with pints for everyone.
“So,” Mark started. “What happened with Ash, then?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, after venturing into your hovel, we deserve to know. So spill. We’ve heard about the kidnapping, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
Mark and Rob were both in the Metropolitan police, and although they hadn’t been present at the aftermath of Tia’s abduction, clearly the force’s grapevine rivalled that of the Lower Foxford Women’s Institute.
“I’m not dissecting my love life over drinks.” Despite Mark’s earlier suggestion, he wasn’t a flipping woman.
“You’ve got to give us something.”
Luke sighed. “Tia’s kidnapping put some pressure on my relationship with Ash, and after the situation with Tia got resolved, Ash didn’t want to stick around to help pick up the pieces.”
There, that sounded reasonable. Vague but plausible.
Mark leaned back in his seat, studying Luke through narrowed eyes. Now he knew how it felt to be interviewed under duress.
“See, that surprises me. I only met her a couple of times, but she seemed sweet. Thoughtful. The change she made in Tia was unreal, and it rubbed off on Arabella too. She’s giving our parents far less grief now.”
“Well, that’s the way it happened. When you broke off your engagement with Carla, how did you get over it?”
If Mark was so keen on talking, he could dissect his own problems instead.
“Looking back, I had a lucky escape. But Carla cheated whereas Ash didn’t.” He paused. “Did she?”
Luke hastily shook his head. “Sorry, mate. I didn’t realise Carla did that.”
No wonder Mark hadn’t wanted to speak about the split at the time.
“Don’t worry. Like I said, it was better to find out she was a cheating cow before we got married rather than after. And as for the piece of slime she was banging, we clubbed together at work, and so far, we’ve given him thirty-seven parking tickets and nicked him for speeding twice.”
“Good going. Ash wasn’t involved with anyone else, though. She couldn’t have been. She spent all her spare time with me and Tia.”
“Revenge isn’t everything. Yeah, it helps a bit, but I’d still rather Carla hadn’t cheated in the first place.” Mark paused to watch a goal replay as Chelsea scored again. “Why don’t you try a different approach? I could set you up with one of Mandy’s friends if you want.”
Mandy was Mark’s current girlfriend, sweet enough, but she never stopped talking about her job in PR—celebrity this, VIP that, freebies, freebies, freebies—and her habit of giggling after every sentence grated on Luke’s last nerve.
“Don’t think I’m ready for that.”
Rob eyed up three women in short dresses teetering across the bar. “You want to find yourself a hot chick. Have some fun—just casual. Hit any club on a Saturday night and there’s hundreds of girls, all gagging for it.”
“I don’t fancy incubating an STD.”
“That’ll only happen if you look in some dive. You should come out with me. I’ll take you to places where the top totty hangs out.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
Luke had never been one for a fleeting affair, although he had to admit, the idea of uncomplicated sex sounded more appealing after the burn Ash gave him.
Rob waggled his eyebrows. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will, but I’d rather enjoy the single life for a while. Do either of you guys fancy going skiing? I haven’t been for ages, and I like the idea of some good snow.”
Ironically, it was Ash who’d encouraged him to get back on a snowboard for the first time in years.
“I could do a long weekend, but not right away,” Mark said. “We’ve got a big security exercise coming up at work in three days, and if it’s anything like the last one, we’ll all spend the next couple of weeks providing explanations to the brass for everything that went wrong. Then we’ll have to implement a whole ream of new procedures so things don’t get screwed up again. Rob? How about you?”
“Same. I’m in, but I can’t go for a few weeks. Not just because of the security exercise—it’s my sister’s sixteenth, and Mother will go nuts if I miss the fancy dinner she’s spent months organising.” He turned to Mark. “But you’re being too negative about this exercise. It’ll go fine. We’ve spent the last fortnight planning for every eventuality.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “You weren’t here for the last one. We thought we’d do well on that, and it all went belly up.”
“Yes, I know, but I’ve read the reports, and we’ve addressed the weaknesses they identified. Plus I heard Emerson Black has gone AWOL, so there’s no way it can be as difficult as last time.”
Excuses, excuses. Surely skiing was better than work?
“What’s this exercise about?” Luke asked. “And who’s Emerson Black?”