Chapter Seven #3
‘Have a seat.’ She indicated the couch opposite and pulled the bottle from the cooler. ‘Is white wine okay? It’s Chablis but there is red if you’d prefer.’
‘No, no, I’m fine with white,’ he replied settling himself in the softness of the couch.
He watched as she poured him a glass, thanking her as she handed it to him.
She needed to kick-start conversation. The last thing she wanted was the pair of them staring at each other in stony silence while they waited for Nathan’s return.
‘So,’ she said, giving him a smile as she picked up her wine and took a sip. ‘How long have you been back in Carrenporth?’
‘Oh, a couple of months.’
‘And before that? You were travelling, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, around South East Asia. Spent some time in Australia and New Zealand too.’
‘What was your favourite place?’
‘It has to be Bali. It was probably one of the most beautiful and memorable locations I visited. The sunsets were out of this world.’ He gave a wistful smile as if revisiting the memory. Cat smiled, he was beginning to relax, to open up. So far so good.
‘It was such a laid-back place,’ he continued. ‘I met a good crowd of people there, mostly backpackers like me, stopping for a few weeks for the surf and nightlife before moving on. I did the traditional tourist bit too; you know temples, markets that sort of thing.’
‘Sounds wonderful. I’m surprised you didn’t decide to stay, become a beach bum.’
He laughed. ‘If only, but no, I had an agreement with Gareth. Two years out and then I’d come back and work for him.’
‘Of course, you’re one of the Hunter clan, aren’t you?’
He gave a wry smile and stared into his glass. ‘I shouldn’t air those thoughts in front of Evie if I were you.’
‘Ah yes, Dad mentioned she wasn’t exactly your most ardent fan.
The thing I can’t quite understand,’ she said, leaning forward to refill their glasses, ‘is why I don’t remember you.
I mean, we were good friends of the Hunters.
As children Nathan and I were always over there with Dad, being invited to barbeques and buffet lunches.
But I only remember Jordan. Where were you? ’
‘In my room.’
‘Your room? Ah.’ She smiled thoughtfully as she played with the stem of her wine glass. ‘So you were the archetypal antisocial teenager? Is that what made your aunt angry?’
‘No.’ She watched him shake his head uncomfortably. ‘Evie didn’t feel it appropriate, given the circumstances surrounding my birth, for me to attend any family get-togethers.’
Cat was shocked at such callous behaviour. ‘But didn’t Gareth have something to say about that?’
‘I’m sure he did but, at the time, being so upset over the loss of my mother, I didn’t notice … or care. Anyway, it seemed Evie wore the trousers and Gareth rarely challenged her.’
‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
‘About my family?’
She nodded.
‘Okay.’
‘The thing is I know Ross wasn’t your father but have you any idea about—’
‘—my real father’s identity?’ he finished the question for her.
‘Yes, his name was Scott Stevens and he worked as a mechanic at Arcadia during the summer of 1989. The other guys nicknamed him Silverstone because of his dream of working with a Formula One team. Evidently he was always hanging around Selina and, well, people put two and two together.’
‘I gather you didn’t learn about that from Gareth?’
‘Of course not.’ He smiled, amused. ‘No it was Tony Marsh. Back in the eighties he worked alongside him in the Service Department. Said Scott had a bit of a “thing” for my mother, they went to the same clubs, hung around with the same people. Actually he brought a photo in for me to see and I took a copy.’ Cat watched as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his jeans and trawled through the photo gallery.
‘Ah here we are.’ He passed the phone over to her.
‘It’s from a holiday in Ibiza. My dad’s the one on the far right. ’
‘Yes I can definitely see a similarity,’ Cat said, transferring her gaze from the photo to Luke and back again. ‘You have his colouring and build. And I’m guessing Tony’s the second on the left?’
‘Yes, head and shoulders above everyone else. Hard to miss, isn’t he?’
‘What happened to Scott?’ she asked, handing him back the phone.
‘Tony said he simply handed in his notice and left. It was all very sudden.’
‘Running out on his responsibilities?’
‘No, it was late September; at that time my mother probably wouldn’t have known she was pregnant.’
‘Did he say whether she was upset when he left?’
‘Apparently not, but then I don’t think any of my mother’s relationships, if you could ever call them that, were long term.’
‘Your grandparents must have been furious.’
‘Absolutely, but she did try to limit the damage; you know, organising a marriage of convenience to Ross before breaking the news about me.’ Cat caught a touch of mockery in his remark.
‘Unfortunately keeping a secret in Carrenporth is not the easiest thing. It wasn’t long before someone accidentally revealed the identity of my real father.
My grandmother was an almighty snob. You can imagine having a mechanic as the father of her grandson and a fisherman for a son-in-law was a bit of a double whammy really.
’ His eyes glittered with amusement. ‘Sadly, in all the time they were together, I never ever saw my mother show any real affection towards Ross. He was a means to an end. I think it took his death for her to realise exactly what she had lost. He was a good man and a great father; I had a lot of respect for him. And afterwards, of course, Gareth kept an eye on us. By that time my grandparents were no longer on the scene but Evie proved a great successor to Grandmother Mary. She stirred up a lot of trouble for us in the village.’
‘But surely things are different now? After all, this is the twenty-first century.’
‘Oh, Cat, sorry, but I can’t believe you are so na?ve. Evie still hates me with a passion and for most people I’ll always be Selina Carrack’s illegitimate son.’
‘Such archaic attitudes don’t have any place in modern society,’ she said angrily, pouncing on his words, hating the way he perceived himself.
‘Whatever makes you think Carrenporth reflects modern society?’ He sat back, his fingers laced around his wine glass and smiled, clearly amused at the differences in their assessment of the small community they lived in.
‘Of course you’re right,’ she conceded. ‘I mean what would Carrenporth be without the likes of Rosalind Myers to stir everything up?’
‘Look,’ he leaned towards her, ‘I don’t like it but I can live with it.
I’ve had the tag for a long time and my shoulders are broad.
Thanks to Gareth I’ve had a good education.
Currently I’m working with the service team but no doubt a job offer is in the pipeline.
Now enough about me …’ his grey eyes examined her curiously ‘… I know absolutely nothing about you, so come on, spill the beans.’
‘I’m not sure there are any worth spilling.
’ She hesitated wondering how to glamorise what, compared to his experiences, was a rather ordinary existence.
‘Unlike yours, my life has been rather routine and boring. A terrible confession but true, nevertheless. As you probably know, our mother died when we were five.’ She indicated the portrait over the fireplace.
‘She’s very beautiful,’ he replied, looking at the picture thoughtfully. ‘I wondered where Nathan got his dark hair from, you know, with Trevelyans all being blond. I guess even after all this time your father must still miss her.’
‘Oh, he does. Every single day. Theirs was a very special relationship. She was slightly older than him, you know, but age didn’t mean a thing; he fell in love with her the moment they met.
Anyway,’ she moved on with a sigh, ‘it was left to my grandmother to raise us. After leaving school, Nathan and I both went to uni and then came straight into the business. There you are,’ she laughed, ‘all done and dusted in a few sentences.’
‘What? That’s it?’ His grey eyes sparkled with amusement. ‘No travelling? No me time?’
‘No. I spent some time in France earlier in the year but that definitely didn’t qualify as me time, I’m afraid. It was a working holiday. My grandparents have opened up a small hotel in Provence. I went over to help out for a while.’
‘You Trevelyans are a very committed lot.’
‘The family have been in the hotel trade for almost seventy years,’ she informed him proudly. ‘Each new generation is automatically groomed to eventually take over. But I’m the first female who has ever been part of the management team.’
‘Events Manager?’
‘Executive Functions Coordinator, if you want my full fancy-pants title.’ She rolled her eyes and laughed.
‘Ah, I was right after all. A woman in a man’s world. That’s why you’re so assertive, argumentative, challenging …’
His comment made her laugh, remembering the day he’d dropped her off from taking Gulliver to the vets.
At the time that same assessment had sparked anger in her.
Now she simply found it harmless and amusing.
‘Oh yes,’ she nodded, returning his smile, ‘all three of those and more. I knew there were people who thought I’d simply been handed the job because of who I was.
They were keen to prove I couldn’t hack it.
That I hadn’t a clue. So I had to prove I could, and I have. ’
‘But you know what they say about all work and no play, don’t you?’
‘Of course. And believe it or not, we do find time for fun. Nate and I are regular surfers …’