Chapter Two
The One With the Clash
By the end of her third day, Kate felt a little more engaged. The current event manager was about to finish work, her baby’s birth imminent, and couldn’t wait to hand over a long list of projects, from weddings and family parties to various business meetings.
It sounded promising, but Kate wasn’t blind to the many gaps between these bookings and how often the meeting and function rooms would lie empty.
Once back in her lovely room at Anna’s B&B, she sat at the dressing table and released her hair from the sleek up-do she favoured for work, refastening it into a more casual ponytail. Then she leaned forward, turning her head from side to side. She was forty later in the year. She didn’t feel she looked much older than at thirty, aside from the slight deepening of the fine lines around her eyes and the odd grey hair. Was it optimism or the soft natural light coming in through the windows?
Kate dismissed the nonsensical thought, checking her nails for any chips in the varnish as she headed to the wardrobe. There was a beauty salon at the hotel. She’d need to book an appointment soon.
A notification pinged on her phone and she picked it up in anticipation of it being Mollie, but the day immediately spiralled downwards. Hugo.
Despite the distance, and the marriage’s steady demise over several years, her temper began to simmer. Every thought of her ex-husband stirred the memory of his one big deceit, the discovery of which she wasn’t sure she’d ever get over.
Kate scanned the message, then threw the phone onto the bed and slumped down beside it.
When would she ever be done with the moron? Kate reached for the drawer in the bedside table, extracting a small leather box.
‘Time for action,’ she murmured, balancing it on her palm.
Five minutes later, she found Anna in the kitchen preparing dinner. ‘I’ll help out when I get back. I’m in a foul mood, so I’m going walkies.’
A dog – a cockapoo-mix – curled in the basket beside the hearth sat up, and Anna laughed.
‘You said the fatal “w” word.’
Amused despite her inner frustration, Kate shrugged into her coat and retrieved the lead from the boot room. ‘Come on, Dougal. You can keep me company.’
Walking briskly uphill, the dog happily scampering at her heels, Kate tried to shed the disgust she felt for Hugo. The great deception was, of course, the lowest of the low, but this was still trawling unnecessary depths…
You forgot to leave your rings. Those diamonds are worth a small
fortune and as I paid for them, I’d like them back.
‘Get rid of them, Mum,’ Mollie had urged, sitting cross-legged on Kate’s bed one morning, when Hugo first demanded the return of her engagement ring and wedding band. ‘Sell them and buy that Burberry bag you keep ogling. Or get a facelift. You probably need that more.’
A pretend pillow fight had ensued, but Hugo’s persistence over the rings was beyond petty. The man was rolling in wealth.
Passing a doggie waste bin, Kate suppressed a snort. Shame he wasn’t rolling in something else.
Emerging onto the coast path, hand dipping into her pocket, Kate stopped by a wooden railing along the cliff edge. A gap led to some stone steps down to an expanse of beach to her left, but although the tide was out, waves pounded the outcrop of rocks to her right, spray caught by the breeze dusting her face. She opened the small box and took out two rings, tied together with a piece of thin ribbon.
Her parents agreed with Mollie, but whatever Kate did with the money, she knew it would represent the loveless marriage she’d escaped, and of that she didn’t need any reminders. This was a new life, time to be rid of the past once and for all.
She called Dougal to heel, hand outstretched towards where the water continued to crash to her right, but as she took a step forward, her boot caught in the uneven stones and she stumbled. The rings tumbled merrily from her grasp, only to be caught by a hefty gust of Cornish wind sailing around the headland, diverting its catch back towards the steps instead.
‘Ow! What the hell …’
A man appeared, sporting a dark green Barbour jacket, Hunter wellies and a noticeable mark above his right brow.
‘Did you throw these?’ His voice was cutting, his expression uncompromising as he held up the rings, which swung in torment on their ribbon.
Definitely nothing melancholy about him today , Kate mused silently, taking in the handsome features which had caught her eye the other day.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she began, mortified. ‘I—’
‘What the hell did you think you were doing? Did thought even come into it?’
The temper which had been simmering rose a few notches.
‘All too much, as it happens,’ she snapped back.
‘This is an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty and – in case you’ve had your head in the sand – we’re all trying to be more environmentally friendly.’ His tone was uncompromising.
‘I know, but—’
‘Then why are you throwing metal into the water?’ His gaze narrowed as his eyes raked over her. ‘You’re an incomer.’
She’d soon be an outgoer, if his expression was any indication of his thoughts. Still, everything he said was true, but in Kate’s present frame of mind, that didn’t really help. The last thing she wanted right now was to listen to a man spouting on and – worse – being right. Especially as he was. Right.
‘Fine. Here –’ She held out her palm, fiery brown eyes locked with steely blue.
He didn’t move for a second, then stepped forward and took her hand, placing the rings in her palm and closing her fingers over them.
‘Respect the water. The sea is not a disposal unit.’ His tone was less angry, but his dissatisfaction was evident.
Yes, I know. I’m sorry. Got too wrapped up in the moment…
Trying not to notice the sensation of his skin against hers, Kate stilled, but he released her hand and called to someone named Bayley.
As a black labrador scrambled up the steps onto the cliff path, Kate fastened Dougal’s lead, but the man strode away without any further words, the dog at his heels. Unlike his master, however, the lab paused to look back at where she stood.
Glancing down, Kate huffed out a laugh, despite the tense few minutes. Dougal, tongue lolling as he panted, watched Bayley with bright eyes, tugging at his lead, but even as the tall figure disappeared, she shook her head.
‘Sorry, Dougal. That’s one local we haven’t made too good a first impression on. Let’s go this way instead.’
The next few days sped by, with Kate approaching everything with her habitual efficiency. There were things she didn’t know about how the hotel worked yet, but she had an ability to recall names with ease and as the first weekend approached – one without any events she needed to work, thank goodness – she felt she’d begun to find her feet.
If only Mollie was a little more… communicative. Kate suppressed a sigh as she ended a call with her mum and got up from her desk. Her daughter was too busy to come to the phone. It wasn’t the first time, and she emerged from her office reflecting on the reality. Teens these days had so many apps through which they could communicate, actually using their devices to speak seemed beyond them. She’d just have to take her mum’s word for it, that Mollie was doing fine.
She headed to the staff cloakroom, refreshing her lipstick and pressing a tissue to the top of her nose, wishing it wouldn’t shine like a beacon within hours of doing her make-up. Thickly lashed, brown eyes surveyed the reflection as she refastened her hair into a clasp. She’d had a bad night, rolling to and fro in the bed like the waves toying with the rocks below Westerleigh Cottage. Mollie had been so down – even more so this last year – and Kate felt the full burden of responsibility, determined to do all she could to bring happiness back into her daughter’s life. Was this going to work, though?
‘Enough,’ she warned her image, tugging at the bottom of her jacket. Did it look too big on her? She’d lost way too much weight with all the stress of the last year.
Leaving the cloakroom, Kate walked briskly towards the hotel reception, heels clicking on the polished tiles.
‘One of your eleven o’clock’s was early, so I popped him in Dogger.’
Kate and the lady on reception exchanged an amused look at the maritime reference.
‘Perfect. Thanks, Jean. Coffee?’ she asked, hopefully.
‘On its way.’
Jean Lovelace had what Kate’s gran had always called ‘handsome features’, which meant whilst not pretty, exactly, she was extremely striking. Kate liked her very much.
Assuming a professional countenance, she tapped on the meeting room door and stepped inside. Her worries over Mollie would have to wait.
A silver-haired elderly gentleman stood near the window, his erect frame belying his years, and he turned to greet her.
‘Ms Stretton?’ The man held out a hand as he joined her by the table. ‘I’m Benedict Devonshire.’
‘Kate. Lovely to meet you. Please, take a seat.’
‘My grandson is on his way.’
They talked trivialities until coffee arrived, and once furnished with a cup each, Kate moved the conversation to Benedict’s purpose.
‘I have a milestone birthday pending.’
Kate smiled warmly. ‘Eightieth?’
‘You flatter me, my dear.’ Although Benedict’s eyes twinkled, his expression sobered. ‘Forgive me. I am constantly reminded that it isn’t PC these days to use such a term.’
Shaking her head, Kate removed her jacket, draping it over the back of the chair. ‘I refuse to believe you are about to turn ninety, Mr Devonshire.’
‘Benedict, at the very least, but please call me Ryther. It has long been my family’s name for me and the one I tend to go by. No, indeed. I am approaching eighty-five, and there seems to be a consensus in some parts of the family that we must make a fuss about getting half-way through another decade. I assume it’s in case I am not around for the next big one.’
Kate picked up her pen, sensing the undercurrents common in many a family celebration.
‘What would you prefer, Mr… Ryther?’
‘I wish to be—’ The door opened before he could expand. ‘Ah, here he is. This is my grandson, Rick. My boy, this is the very lovely Kate, who’s an expert at managing things.’
Heart sinking, Kate rose from her chair, pinning on a smile and reluctantly holding out her hand.
‘Pleased to meet you.’
Never have I wanted to meet someone less…
Assessing eyes – more grey than blue today – met wary brown as Kate’s hand was grasped in a brief but firm handshake which sent her mind straight back to his placing the rings in her palm.
‘We’ve already met, Grandy.’ The man’s tone was milder than their first encounter on the cliffs, but somewhat dismissive, and he remained unsmiling as he took the seat beside his grandfather.
‘Intriguing,’ Ryther murmured, taking a sip of coffee, his keen eyes – so like his grandson’s – darting between him and Kate. ‘The froideur of your tone indicates it was not a mutually beneficial encounter.’
Rick shot a warning look at his grandfather, but Ryther’s lips merely twitched as he returned his attention to Kate, who tried to ignore the tense knot forming between her shoulders.
‘Now, where were we, Kate? Ah, yes. You kindly asked me what I would like by way of a birthday celebration.’
Once again, Ryther was not to make his point, as a tap came on the door.
‘Sorry, Kate,’ Jean murmured, ‘but there’s—’
A slender woman with a sleek bob of golden hair brushed past Jean, and Kate shot to her feet as both men stood.
The vision in Gucci placed a kiss on each of Ryther’s cheeks and then looped her arm through the younger man’s, lifting her face for a kiss which didn’t materialise as he firmly removed her grasp.
‘Why wasn’t I told about this meeting, my darlings?’
She had a melodious voice, a glorious smile and such an air of glamour. Kate immediately felt as though she’d just clambered out of bed.
Rick merely shrugged. ‘You clearly were. How else did you happen to be here at the same time as us?’
‘Nit picking, as usual, Frederick.’ She sent Ryther a condescending smile. ‘How are you feeling, sweetie?’
‘Like I’m in the middle of a farce,’ the older man muttered.