Chapter 26
26
‘Morning, Anya! Lovely day for it,’ Jim said as he swung through the revolving door. Now the hot weather had really kicked in he’d shed his fleece and had teamed his ever-present shorts with a short-sleeved uniform shirt that already looked a little worse for wear. Even with a fan beneath the desk blasting cool air onto her, the back of her own shirt was sticking to Anya’s back. She couldn’t imagine how much hotter he must be lugging that massive sack around in the full heat of the sun. Not that he seemed bothered about it. Come rain or shine, Jim was bright and cheery. Perhaps she should ask him what he had for breakfast, because a slice of toast and a cup of tea wasn’t putting any kind of pep in her step.
‘Morning. What have you got for me today?’
‘Oh, the usual: bills, bills and more bills!’ Face wreathed in that ever-cheerful grin, he dropped half a dozen envelopes bound up in a rubber band on top of the reception desk, then rummaged in his bag. ‘And there’s a parcel for you to sign for, as well.’
Anya made an incomprehensible squiggle on the screen of the electronic scanner he held out to her. If anyone had ever managed to produce anything close to their actual signature on one of those damn things it would be a miracle.
Or witchcraft.
She frowned at the label on the box for a second then spotted the supplier’s name in the corner. ‘Fab! That’s the new drain trap I ordered for Room 12. I wasn’t expecting it so soon but I can fit it this afternoon before the new guests check in tomorrow.’
Jim grinned. ‘You’re a plumber now too, are you? Is there no end to your talents?’
‘Ha! More like there’s no start to them. Poor Davy had no idea how useless I was when he took me on, but he’s teaching me all sorts of things I should probably already know.’
The postman frowned. ‘You shouldn’t put yourself down like that, lovie. I think the way you’re trying to turn your life around is remarkable. A lot of people would’ve stayed beaten by what you’ve been through, but here you are dusting yourself off and starting again. There’s a lot to be said for that.’
Anya didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or pleased, so she opted for pleased. It was silly to think she could pretend everyone didn’t know her circumstances and Jim would be horrified if he thought he’d said anything to upset her. ‘Thanks, Jim. It feels like a long road sometimes but I’m getting there.’
‘That’s all that counts.’ He looked past her, frowning when he saw the office was empty. ‘Where’s his lordship?’
‘He’s making us a drink. He’ll be back any minute if you want to hang on.’
‘My, how the tables have turned! One of these days I’ll walk in and find you sat in that office with your feet up, you mark my words!’
‘I doubt it somehow, but I appreciate the vote of confidence. ’
Jim tapped the top of the desk. ‘Well, let’s see where you are this time next year. Right, places to go, people to see!’
‘Bye, Jim!’
Anya set the box to one side and lifted down the little stack of post. She took off the rubber band and popped it in the empty butter tub sitting on the desk. When the tub was full, she would stick them all in a spare envelope and give them back to Jim. She had no idea if he used them again, but it felt better than throwing them away. She had just finished slitting open the envelopes when Davy came back with the tea things balanced on a tray. ‘Do you want tea here?’ He spotted the post. ‘Jim’s been, has he?’
She nodded. ‘Yup. Not much today. Take the pot through to the office and I’ll join you in a minute. It won’t take long to jot what’s here down in the book.’
‘All right, pet. Come through when you’re ready.’
Anya grinned at him. ‘Oh, and the tap arrived, so guess what we’re doing this afternoon.’ She patted the top of the box.
‘And there was me thinking I’d be able to sit back and relax on my lovely new cushion,’ Davy grumbled, but he was smiling as he did so.
‘No rest for the wicked, isn’t that what they say?’
Davy rolled his eyes as he stomped off into his office with the tray. ‘I wish someone had told me at the time when all these supposed wicked things were happening, because they passed me by!’
Laughing, Anya started separating the post from the envelopes, opening each letter and scanning the contents. Gas bill. Invoice from the cleaning company they used. A sale flyer from the company she’d ordered the tap from. Well, it hadn’t taken them long to put their details on a mailing list. Anya slid out the last letter and unfolded it. The first thing she spotted was the familiar blue NHS logo in the top right-hand corner and the name and address of the county hospital underneath it. Why were the hospital writing to Davy, she wondered, before realising it wasn’t her business. Davy didn’t get a lot of personal mail, so it never occurred to her to check for it before she started opening the post. She quickly folded the letter closed but not before the word oncology caught her eye. Oh God, oncology meant only one thing. Without really thinking about what she was doing, Anya smoothed out the letter and read it. It was details of an appointment for a CT scan with an accompanying printout about what to expect and what preparations needed to be taken in advance. The final paragraph advised the results would be reviewed by the oncology department, who would write to his GP within one to two weeks.
Anya’s stomach heaved and she pressed a hand to her mouth and swallowed hard. Still clutching the letter, she walked into Davy’s office. He looked up with a smile. ‘That was quick.’
She placed the letter on his desk. ‘I opened this by mistake. I didn’t realise what it was.’
Davy glanced down and his smile vanished. Without a word, he yanked open the top drawer of his desk, shoved the letter inside and slammed it shut again. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘Davy…’
‘I said it’s nothing. Now, have you finished sorting the rest of the post? Your tea’s getting cold.’
Anya sank down in the spare chair. He couldn’t possibly expect her to pretend she hadn’t seen what she’d just seen and act like nothing had happened. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?’
He scowled at her. ‘Because it’s none of your bloody business, that’s why. Christ alive, if it’s not Rick snooping around, it’s you.’ His brows lowered until they almost hid his eyes. ‘He put you up to this, didn’t he? I might have known he’d set you spying on me!’
She rocked back. ‘What are you talking about?’ None of this made sense. Surely Rick wouldn’t have kept her in the dark over something like this. What about the rest of the family? The questions whirled around in her head and she didn’t like any of the answers her brain was coming up with. ‘What’s Rick got to do with this?’
Davy snorted. ‘Don’t try and play the innocent with me, girl. I didn’t come down in the last bloody shower. He’s been blackmailing me ever since he found out I have cancer – how else do you think you got a damn job here? It’s not because you’re an administrative wizard, is it? Didn’t know your arse from your elbow when you walked through the door, and as for helping me? I’ve done nothing but hold your hand since the day you started.’
Anya winced, the words hurting as much as if he’d reached out and physically struck her. ‘I’ve tried my best, Davy. I’m sorry if you feel it’s not been good enough. If you didn’t want me here, you should’ve said something.’ Rick should’ve said something. Chloe should’ve said something. ‘Who else knows about this?’
Davy shook his head. ‘No one, and that’s the way I want it, do you understand? I’ve already got that boy meddling in my business, I don’t want the rest of them on my back as well.’
Anya shook her head, unable to take it all in. ‘Rick’s the only one who knows? Why didn’t he say anything?’
‘You’ll have to ask him yourself, won’t you, because I’m done talking about this.’ Davy waved an angry hand towards the door. ‘Go on, get out. I’d rather the damn cancer got me than the pair of you nagging me to bloody death.’
As if moving on autopilot, Anya rose and walked out. She paused at the reception desk only long enough to grab her handbag from the cabinet drawer. Her little stash of tea bags, tissues and other bits and pieces she ignored. In a daze she pushed her way out of the front door, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the glaring rays of the sun. She tried to open her bag to fetch her sunglasses but her fingers couldn’t grasp hold of the zip and when she looked down everything was blurry. A hot, fat tear splashed on the back of her hand, followed by another and another. Anya wrenched open her bag, fumbled for her sunglasses and shoved them on, grateful they had oversized lenses that covered half her face.
Sniffing back the tears, she hurried down the street, desperate to go home and get away from Davy and all the cruel things he’d said to her. She made it half a dozen steps before remembering it was one of her aunt Helen’s days off, so she would be in the summer house with Freya. Not home, not until she’d calmed down a bit, because she couldn’t let Freya see her upset. The café then? Issy had plenty of space out the back where Anya could hide until she could pull herself together. And help her understand what was happening. Reaching beneath her sunglasses, Anya quickly dashed away her tears then crossed the road and began following the sea wall towards the café.
No one else knows .
She stopped in her tracks. If what Davy had told her was true, then the only other person who knew about his illness was Rick. If she told Issy – and how could she ask her advice without explaining everything – then she’d have to tell Chloe, and Helen and Ryan. And Ma and Pa. Oh God, did Pa not know? Had Davy honestly kept such a terrible thing from his own brother? How could Anya be the one to break the news to him? She couldn’t, it wasn’t her place, and deep down she didn’t want to be the one who did it. Didn’t want to be involved at all. She wished she could turn back the clock, take a couple of minutes to properly check the post before she opened it, realise the letter was addressed to Davy personally and hand it to him.
Only she was involved, because Rick had involved her. He’d put her right inside the heart of it and not even had the decency to warn her. She scanned the crowded beach, her gaze skipping over the mass of sunbathers, the colourful windbreaks and towels until her eyes locked on the bright green beach flag flapping in the breeze. Anger bubbled inside her and Anya changed course again, jogging towards the steps that led down onto the beach. Her progress was hampered by the number of people spread out everywhere and the sand getting inside her sandals. She bent and yanked them off, hooking the straps over one finger. The sand was hot beneath her toes, but better than that horrible gritty feeling.
She spotted Rick in the crowd. It wasn’t hard given his height, plus the bright green hat and T-shirt he was wearing with his business branding on it. She was a few feet from him when he spotted her, his face lighting up.
‘This is a nice surprise!’
Don’t you dare smile at me . Before she realised what she was doing, one of her sandals was hurtling across the short distance between them. He stared at her open-mouthed as it bounced off his chest and dropped to the ground.
‘Anya! What the hell?’
She raised her other sandal and Rick lifted his arms as he ducked his body to ward off a second blow. ‘How could you?’ she demanded. ‘How could you do that to me?’ The final words were almost lost in the choked sob escaping her throat.
‘Anya? Oh my God, what’s wrong?’ His momentary shock overcome, Rick closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. At least he tried to, but she fended him off, still brandishing her sandal like a weapon.
‘How could you do it to me?’ she railed. ‘You promised me, Rick. You promised that I could trust you and now I’ve found out you’ve been lying from the start. Oh God, you’re just like him! I thought you were different, that you and I could have something special together. I’m such an idiot.’
His arms tightened around her again and though she wanted to shove him away, her knees wouldn’t hold her up. She twisted her hand into the front of his T-shirt and pressed her face into his solid chest as she sobbed. ‘Davy’s got cancer, and you never told me. He’s dying, isn’t he?’
‘Shit.’ Rick buried a hand in the back of her hair and held her close. ‘I’m sorry, Anya. I’m so sorry. You don’t know how much it’s been killing me not to say anything to you, but I gave him my word.’
The flash of anger was enough to stop her tears and she pulled herself free of his arms. ‘Oh well if you gave him your word, I suppose that’s all right then!’ she snapped. ‘What about your word to me, Rick? Or doesn’t that count?’
‘Of course it counts, but what was I supposed to do? Davy told me it’s too late to do anything but he knows the family will push him into trying anyway and he just wants to be left alone to enjoy what time he’s got left. I didn’t know what to do.’ He held out a hand to her. ‘Anya, please. Can we go somewhere and talk about this? I’m so sorry I kept it from you, but Davy’s told you now, so at least it’s out in the open and he’s obviously coming round to the idea of facing up to things.’ He sounded so relieved, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A huge weight he’d hung around her neck instead, without any warning.
She shook her head. ‘Davy didn’t tell me. I opened a letter from the hospital by mistake.’ The shock of it hit all over again. Davy was dying . Rick had just said it was too late to do anything. The pain was like a knife shredding her insides. ‘How could you do that to me?’
He held out a hand to her, his face a mask of grief and pain. ‘I’m sorry I lied to you.’
He didn’t get it. ‘It’s not the lie, though God knows that’s bad enough. It’s the fact you put me in that situation in the first place. You let me get attached to him and all the while you knew that he’s going to die. You let me get close to him, to care about him and now he’s going to leave me and I can’t go through all that again. I can’t.’ She turned away, the tears falling too hard to continue speaking. It didn’t matter, she had nothing else she wanted to say to him.
‘Anya, wait. Please .’ He placed a hand on her upper arm to stop her but she shook him off.
‘No, let me go. You’ve broken my heart, Rick Penrose, and I’m never going to forgive you.’