Wild Oats (50 page)

For some reason, the euphoria of his discovery that morning had worn off and he was starting to feel uneasy. After his confrontation with Tiona, he’d had a quiet word with Norma and assured her that everything was above board. The pitying look she’d given him had taken him aback rather. Then she’d said that, under the circumstances, she was going to have to consider her position at Drace’s very carefully. Christopher had started to protest, and she’d cut him off quite abruptly.

‘I hope you realize that whatever story she’s given you is utter rubbish.’ Her look was defiant, but Christopher could see she was upset. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t like to see you being made to look a fool.’

At the time, Christopher had told himself that it was just office politics, that Norma was reacting like that because she didn’t like Tiona pulling rank on her. But her words kept ringing in his ears. Had he been fobbed off?

Tiona’s bag was lying on the floor by her seat. She’d taken her purse to pay for the lunch. Her tiny little mobile phone was visible. He stared at it, transfixed. Did he have the nerve to check up on her? Did he want to know the truth? He could, of course, carry on with what he was starting to suspect was a charade. He could be his usual ostrich-like self, pretending that nasty things weren’t happening. Or he could take
matters into his own hands for once. Prove he wasn’t a gullible, suggestible fool whose libido was ruling his head. Christopher swallowed. He wasn’t used to subterfuge and espionage. But he had enough sense to realize that there was rather a lot at stake here, and that he owed it to himself and his family to take control.

Tentatively, he reached out his hand for the phone, hoping fervently Tiona would be a few minutes yet. The pub was popular and busy with Saturday lunchers, so he’d probably got a bit of time.

Quickly, he flicked through the address book on her mobile. He stopped when he got to Lomax. That wasn’t actually incriminating in itself, he supposed. His pulse was racing as he fumbled with the keys – he’d got out of the habit of texting since he’d left London. Eventually he managed to stab out a message.

‘
Got hot prop for you. 140k. Go or no?
’

He wavered for a moment, casting an anxious look towards the bar. She could be back any second. He pressed ‘send’, then waited for the icon to indicate that the message had been sent before deleting it from her outbox.

Thirty seconds later the phone beeped. The reply had arrived. Christopher read it, a single word. ‘
Go
.’

His fingers raced over the keypad, sure and swift this time.

‘
My fee has gone up. 3k up front.
’ He jabbed ‘send’ before he could have any second thoughts.

The next thirty seconds were agonizing. Two beeps told him that the answer that would decide his future had arrived. He pressed ‘read’.

‘
You’re having a laugh. 2k on completion or forget it.
’

Christopher stared at the words, which branded themselves on his brain. He looked up. Tiona was standing there.

‘That’s my phone,’ she said accusingly.

‘Yes,’ said Christopher, placing it on the table. ‘I think you’d better sit down.’

He was surprised to find that he was icily calm. Tiona put out her hand to pick up the phone, but he snatched it out of her grasp. She looked at him, surprised.

‘You’ve just had a text from your friend, Simon Lomax,’ he said lightly.

‘So?’

Christopher knew she was capable of bluffing it out. She had nerves of steel. But he was ready for the kill this time.

‘You failed to mention he was paying you. When we had our little chat this morning.’

Christopher thought he now knew what it was like to corner a rat. Before his very eyes, Tiona turned from a vision of sweetness and light to a snarling creature with teeth bared and claws at the ready.

‘It was there for the bloody taking,’ she said viciously. ‘Why shouldn’t I make some money out of it? If I hadn’t pushed those deals through you’d be bust. And I never got any thanks for it.’

‘You were doing your job, Tiona,’ Christopher pointed out quite reasonably. ‘It’s what you get paid for.’

‘Not enough. I had to rip you off in order to survive.’

‘Well, at least I know now. We can review the salary for your replacement: make sure they don’t feel the need to sink so low.’

‘Replacement?’ Tiona’s eyes glittered.

Christopher allowed himself the luxury of a laugh. It was strange, but he felt exhilarated and in control. He had nothing to lose by calling her bluff. He suspected his worst mistake now would be to play into her hands.

‘You don’t seriously think I’m going to carry on employing you?’

‘But what about us?’

‘I don’t think our relationship comes into it any more.’

‘Doesn’t it?’ Her tone was dangerously arch. ‘I wonder what Zoe would have to say?’

Her meaning was abundantly clear. Christopher held her gaze firmly. He wasn’t going to let her frighten him.

‘Right,’ he said decisively. ‘This is what we do. You clear your desk. I’ll write you a glowing reference. And that’s the end of the matter. You say nothing and I won’t prosecute.’

She sat back for a moment, then gave an imperceptible nod of agreement. Confident that she didn’t hold
any more cards, Christopher couldn’t resist a little dig.

‘On second thoughts, don’t bother to clear your desk. I’ll ask Norma to send on any of your personal possessions.’

He had the pleasure of seeing her lips tighten in annoyance. He knew bringing in Norma would goad her, but he felt vindictive.

A waitress appeared with their baguettes, standing by their table with a plate in each hand. Christopher stood up.

‘I think I’ll have mine to go.’ He took one of the baguettes off its plate and gave the waitress a dazzling smile before walking out of the pub without a backward glance.

As Olivier left the road, he felt a split second of terror and then icy calm as he waited for the inevitable. Time went fast and slowly simultaneously: the crash came all too soon, yet it seemed to take a lifetime before the crumping sound reached his ears. He sat in the driver’s seat for a moment, stunned. Then a voice inside his head told him to pull himself together – he knew he had to get out as quickly as he could, in case the car burst into flames. As he swung his legs over the side he could already see the fire and ambulance crews. He ran clear as a paramedic approached him. He waved him away.

‘I’m fine.’

‘I think we should check you over.’

‘I’m
fine
.’ Olivier couldn’t hide the irritation in his
voice. He didn’t want any fuss. Behind him the fire truck was filling the car with water as a precautionary measure. Olivier wanted to tell them not to bother. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter if the car went up in flames. It was beyond repair. He’d felt the chassis going, the engine had gone through the floor, every single panel was dented. That’s what happened when you hit Armco at top speed.

Well, he thought bitterly. That tied everything up very neatly. Not only had he betrayed Jack’s trust, but he’d trashed his most treasured possession. He looked around. Jack was bound to be on the scene any minute, and he didn’t think he could bear to face him. Because he knew Jack. He wouldn’t hold it against him. And Olivier didn’t think he could bear his forgiveness, not when he’d already let him down so badly…

As Claudia swept over the finishing line, an almost orgasmic thrill swept through her body. She’d done it! She’d bloody well done it! Grinning from ear to ear, she drew the car to a gradual halt. She turned to look behind her, to see who had come second. She could see the little Morgan, but after that…

She frowned. Something wasn’t quite right. The race seemed to have come to a halt behind her. She peered into the distance. Someone had come off the track, totalled their car. Pulling off her goggles and her helmet in order to see and hear better, she heard the concerned tones of the commentator.

‘… Olivier Templeton, whose own father won this trophy over twenty years ago in this very same car. There doesn’t look to be very much left of it…’

A chill ran down Claudia’s spine and, despite the heat of the day and the thickness of her overalls, she broke out into an ice-cold sweat.

Olivier was making his way towards the paddock when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching him. He turned to snarl. It was Claudia, her face contorted with distress.

‘Olivier!’

He surveyed her coldly. ‘Well done.’

She ignored his congratulation. ‘I’m so sorry…’

‘Really?’ His reply was heavy with irony. ‘I’m surprised. I’d have thought it was just what you wanted. Me out of the running for good. Leaves the road to glory nice and clear for you, doesn’t it?’

‘Olivier…’

But he turned and walked away, the stiffness of his back telling her not to follow.

Claudia stifled a sob. He had looked at her with such contempt, showing just how little he thought of her. Why was she such a stupid cow? Why did she feel the need to prove herself all the time; have the upper hand? Why couldn’t she embark on a relationship on equal terms, instead of playing elaborate games? She’d blown it this time. The first person in her life that she’d really wanted, and she’d played the most dangerous game of all. He could have died,
and all because she’d thrown down the gauntlet, challenged him to a duel that meant he’d taken risks he shouldn’t have.

A marshal approached her. They wanted her in the commentary box, so she could discuss her win.

‘No comment,’ she snapped, turning on her heel, and the marshal looked nonplussed. He thought may be it was a good thing there weren’t more women participating in the sport. They were never bloody happy.

Olivier was about to start up the Land Rover when someone tapped on the window. He flicked off the ignition in annoyance and wound it down. Ray Sedgeley was standing there. He looked a little shaken, rather grey round the gills, not his usual cocksure self.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked anxiously.

‘I’m fine. Now why don’t you just fuck off?’ Olivier snarled.

‘I’ve come to settle my debt. Though you needn’t have gone that far. Jesus, I thought you were a goner.’

‘What debt?’

‘You threw the race, didn’t you? I owe you a ton. I expect you want cash – don’t want the Inland Revenue asking questions.’ Ray managed a nervous smile.

Olivier looked at him coldly.

‘I don’t want your money.’

‘Don’t be stupid. A deal’s a deal.’

‘There was no deal.’

Ray started to panic, wondering if Olivier had decided to grass him up to the authorities. Even
though he knew he could blag his way out of it, he didn’t want Claudia’s reputation muddied. He put an avuncular hand on Olivier’s shoulder through the window.

‘Now come on. A hundred grand. You’re going to need it for repairs for a start –’

‘There was no deal,’ repeated Olivier. ‘I didn’t throw the race. I was trying to win it.’

He wound the window up viciously and Ray snatched his hand away just in time. The Land Rover started up, and he jumped out of the way as Olivier pulled off.

Ray stared after him in disbelief. If that was gentlemanly behaviour, he could keep it. What a complete and utter prat, turning down a sum like that in the name of honour.

Christopher sat on the terrace at Lydbrook that night feeling as if a great weight had been taken off his shoulders. He didn’t mind admitting that he’d been frightened. Very frightened indeed. But he had stood his ground and remained calm, and in the end Tiona hadn’t made a fuss.

At four o’clock he’d closed the office. If anyone wanted to buy or sell a house that badly, they could wait till Monday. He told Luke and Norma to go home early; Norma was clearly gagging to know what had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to relay the gory details – she’d have to spend the weekend in suspense. Then he’d gone home himself, and
Sebastian and Hugo had leaped on him with glee, which was most gratifying. Zoe was ambling about the garden with a trug, happily filling it with the supper ingredients. She’d bought the
River Café Easy
cook book. Tonight was pasta with pancetta and fresh peas. He felt a surge of gratitude for her efforts.

Inside the house, he could hear the phone ringing. He got to his feet and went into the cool of the hall to answer it.

‘Hello, Lydbrook.’

‘Hello, Mr Drace. It’s matron here, from Havelock House.’

Christopher felt his heart lurch and begin a terrifying descent to his boots. He hadn’t been to see his father. It was his bloody birthday. And now – what? Was he dead? He wouldn’t be able to cope with the guilt –

‘What is it?’

‘Rather a nice surprise, I think. Your father’s sitting up bright as a button, demanding to see you. I know it seems extraordinary but on the face of it – well, he seems to have made a remarkable recovery.’

It was a solemn Jack and Jamie who returned to Bucklebury Farm that evening. The remnants of the car had been loaded on to the trailer and Jack had arranged to have it towed to a specialist garage, though nobody held out much hope.

A quick inspection of his room revealed that Olivier had cleared out his few things and gone.

Jamie sighed.

‘I shouldn’t have been so vile to him. I told him to get out and never come back.’

‘He probably feels bad about telling you,’ said Jack. ‘I made him swear never to breathe a word…’

‘Do you think he’s gone back to his father?’

‘I doubt it. He made it pretty clear their differences were irreconcilable.’

Jamie thought about Olivier’s father.

‘No wonder you didn’t want to talk to Eric about the car,’ she mused. ‘Not after him and Mum.’

‘No,’ said Jack. ‘In some ways it was even worse, being shafted by my best mate. I’d come to expect it from Louisa, but I thought better of Eric.’

‘He sounds horrible,’ said Jamie. ‘I think you’re better off without his friendship.’

‘He was all right in the old days. Reading between the lines, I think it was after his affair with your mother that he got all bitter and twisted. I think Isabelle gave him a pretty hard time.’