Lost Innocence Page 5

  Alicia spluttered with laughter. ‘He’s also maddeningly stubborn, full of teenage arrogance, impatient, hotheaded and too damned big these days to feel at all intimidated by his mother.’

  Rachel was smiling. ‘If I know Nathan Carlyle, he’ll be seeing it as his role now to take care of you,’ she said.

  ‘Which is what I’m afraid of. He’s my responsibility, not the other way round, but I keep reminding myself that it’s still early days. Hopefully, once he’s engrossed in his A levels and making plans for his gap year…I haven’t told him yet that we won’t be able to afford it, but…’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Rachel cut in. ‘Kids these days finance those trips themselves and I’m absolutely sure Nat won’t have a problem with that.’

  ‘Probably not, but my son has big plans for his future…’

  ‘All of which will happen, so stop tearing yourself apart now. He’s going to be fine. They both are.’

  Alicia tried to smile. ‘Mainly thanks to my mother,’ she said. ‘If she hadn’t left me this house and the shop I don’t know what we’d do.’

  ‘She always did come up trumps in a crisis.’ Rachel’s eyes were filled with fond memories.

  Alicia nodded and wondered if her mother could hear them now. If she could then maybe she’d be able to hear Alicia’s thoughts too, the unspoken words of love and gratitude and a longing that would never be fulfilled.

  ‘Has Robert ever mentioned anything about your inheritance?’ Rachel asked, picking up a pretzel.

  Feeling a pang of guilt for the way her brother had been left out of that part of her mother’s will, Alicia shook her head. ‘Not to me, but I think he knows Mum was trying to make up for the way she stopped me coming here.’

  ‘And he’s so well off these days, he wouldn’t need the money. There again, nor did you when she drew up her will. When was the last time you spoke to him?’

  Alicia let go of a troubled sigh. ‘It was at Craig’s funeral,’ she replied. ‘I really didn’t think he’d come, but I’m glad he did.’

  ‘Of course he’d be there for you,’ Rachel said.

  Alicia smiled weakly. ‘Just thank God he left that evil witch of a wife at home. If she’d turned up I swear I wouldn’t have been responsible for my actions.’

  ‘That makes two of us, but luckily she either didn’t have the nerve to show her face, or she discovered a stray shred of decency that persuaded her to do the right thing.’

  Alicia shuddered. ‘I dread to think how she’s going to take it once she knows I’m back.’

  ‘Under the circumstances I don’t think you should be the one doing the worrying. Anyway, from what I hear she’s got her hands pretty full these days with that daughter of hers.’

  ‘You mean Annabelle? She was always such a sweet little girl, in spite of having Sabrina for a mother.’

  ‘Mm,’ Rachel murmured darkly, ‘I think you’ll find she’s morphed out of the little angel you used to know. Not that I run into her often, but you know how people talk. It’s always amazed me how word never got out about Craig and Sabrina.’

  Hating hearing their names coupled together, Alicia forced herself past it, saying, ‘I’d like to think it was a big secret, but everyone knows how close we are, so if they do know they probably wouldn’t mention it to you.’

  ‘You could be right. So did you tell Robert you were coming today?’

  ‘No, but if he’s around, I’m sure he’ll know by now that I’m here.’

  ‘I wouldn’t doubt that,’ Rachel agreed, ‘which means he’s probably off on one of his trips, because I’m sure he’ll be in touch the instant he finds out. How could he not be? You’re his sister, and though the closeness you two always shared might be buried under the fallout of that invidious affair right now, I know in my heart that it’s still there and even, probably, very much intact.’

  Chapter Three

  It was just after nine in the morning when Sam Ellery, the local postman, cycled into the village to begin his rounds. Having little in his bag for the residents and tradespeople of the high street, he was soon on Holly Way, the smart, maple-lined road that curved away from the main street like the splay of a fan, to end in a leafy puff of a cul de sac with a small turning island at its centre to circle back those who were lost. Now the schools had broken up for summer there were only birds to greet him this morning, chirping and flitting about the richly dense branches, and the odd cat languishing on the bonnet of an expensive car, or waiting patiently outside a porticoed front door to be allowed in for breakfast. The air was warm and scented by a pleasing mix of jasmine, honeysuckle and the lingering tinge of someone’s burnt toast. He could hear the river in the distance, bubbling over rocks on its way to the lock, and the sound of Radio Two coming from an open window.

  After dropping off a small package at number eight, and a handful of birthday cards at number ten, Sam wheeled his bicycle past the next four houses who had no deliveries this morning, to the magnificent Queen Anne manor at the end. It was the only residence on Holly Way to be fronted by electric gates and a CCTV camera that registered all the comings and goings outside. Sam knew the security was because of Robert Paige’s job, but exactly what Robert Paige did he couldn’t rightly say, except it was something scientific. He received a lot of special deliveries, and if he wasn’t around to sign for them then Sam had to take them away and leave a note to let Robert know on his return that something was waiting. Apparently not even Mrs Paige could accept his mail, though Sam had never asked why. He simply went along with the system as he’d been told to, minding his own business and feeling secretly glad that he didn’t have the same kind of pressures in his job that Robert Paige probably had in his.

  Propping his bike against the impenetrable laurels, he was about to ring on the entryphone when he heard a car coming into the street. Turning round he squinted against the morning sun, trying to work out who it was. He knew everyone, and liked to wave out to his customers, but as yet he couldn’t make out who the car belonged to. It definitely wasn’t one he recognised, but then he wouldn’t, because he could see now that it was a taxi and it seemed to be coming right down to the end of the road.

  Next thing the solid black gates behind him began sliding open. The taxi slowed up, waiting to gain entry, and as it came to a stop the back window went down.

  ‘Morning, Sam,’ Robert Paige called out. ‘Have you got something for me?’

  Sam held up the large brown envelope he was on the point of delivering. ‘Something from Florida,’ he said, bringing it over. ‘Needs a signature, so our timing’s good today. How are you? Out and about early for a Saturday morning.’ He’d known Robert Paige since the day Donald and Monica had brought their squalling bundle home from Yeovil hospital, which was going on forty-one years ago now, and right from then he’d had a soft spot for the lad.

  ‘I’ve just come down from Heathrow,’ Robert told him, deciding to get out of the car there, instead of inside the gates. ‘Took the red-eye back from Washington.’

  ‘Been hobnobbing at the White House again?’ Sam teased as he passed over his book for Robert to sign.

  Robert laughed. ‘I was too busy to fit them in this time,’ he quipped. ‘I’ll give them your best next time I’m there.’ He was a fine-looking man, in Sam’s opinion, maybe a little thick around the middle these days, and starting to lose his fair hair in recent years, but there was a genuine warmth to his blue eyes that never failed to remind Sam of Donald, his father, and an infectious cheeriness to his smile that both he and Alicia had inherited from their gentle beauty of a mother.

  Chuckling as he took his book back, Sam watched Robert haul his briefcase from inside the car, and pay the driver. ‘Right, best be getting along,’ he said, as the taxi started to reverse. ‘Oh by the way, good news about your Alicia paying us a visit, eh? Haven’t seen her yet, but my Missus had a little chat with her last night at the pub. Bloody shame about her husband, wunnit? Must have been a terrible shock for h
er, being that sudden and all. And the kids still so young. Made me think of how you lost your dad when you was about the same age.’ Belatedly remembering how his old school chum, Donald Paige, had met his end, he felt an uneasy heat spread up from his collar. ‘Yeah, well, it’s good to see you, as always, my boy,’ he mumbled, reaching for his bike. ‘Forecast’s for more sun today, and we could do with it after all the rain we’ve been having.’

  As Sam pedalled away Robert stood watching him, aware that he’d failed to reassure the old man that he hadn’t caused any offence with the remark about his father, but he was still in the grip of surprise at hearing Alicia was in Holly Wood. He should feel pleased, and somewhere, at a distance, he knew he was, but before that was the realisation of what it was going to mean to his wife. Already he could feel a horrible sinking dismay, and fighting a near overwhelming urge to turn tail and go right back to Washington, he waited for the gates to close and started towards the house.

  Sabrina Paige was already in the process of preparing her husband’s welcome-home breakfast when she heard the gates open at the end of the short drive and a taxi pulling up. She’d known, more or less, when to expect him, because he’d rung from the airport to let her know his plane had landed on time, at which point she’d promptly rolled out of bed, showered and dressed in a pair of bright white capri pants that showed off her long legs to perfection, and a copper-coloured silk vest that generously revealed her well-toned shoulders and arms and added a lustrous burnish to her naturally olive skin. Her rich, glossy dark hair was carelessly scrunched into a clip at the back of her head, and her exotically slanted deep brown eyes and sensuous mouth were subtly enhanced by an expert use of kohl and colour. At forty, she was still an exceptionally beautiful woman. However, over recent times her famously sultry looks had become faintly ravaged by excesses of emotion and perhaps a little too much wine.

  As Robert let himself in through the door of their spacious farmhouse-style kitchen she turned to him with a smile of affection and went to embrace him. Since he’d taken an overnight flight he’d probably want to sleep off some jet lag after breakfast, and though she wasn’t really in the mood to go back to bed, if he wanted her to join him she wouldn’t let him down.

  ‘You look tired,’ she murmured, peering into his face. ‘Did you sleep at all on the plane?’

  ‘A little,’ he replied, and dropping his briefcase on the table he loosened his tie and began tearing open the envelope he’d just signed for.

  ‘Hungry?’ she asked, going back to the Aga where she was heating butter ready to scramble eggs. She knew better than to express interest in what had arrived in the mail, particularly when it was something he’d signed for. His work was always classified, which was something she’d always found irresistibly attractive about him. She loved the air of importance and exclusivity that surrounded his research, and how highly regarded he was in his field. And the fact that he was a senior enough government official to be invited to social functions at some of the most prestigious addresses in the world was as great an aphrodisiac to her as the envy of all her friends.

  ‘Mm,’ Robert murmured, quickly scanning the documents he’d taken from the envelope. Clicking open his briefcase he dropped them inside and unfolded a copy of the Financial Times. ‘Everything OK here?’ he asked, shrugging off his jacket. ‘Where’s Annabelle?’

  Breaking eggs into a bowl, Sabrina said, ‘Still in bed, of course. I’ve no idea what time she came in last night. She’d like me to think it was eleven, but when I checked at one o’clock this morning her room was empty, so she’d obviously sneaked out again.’

  Robert was nodding, the way he often did when not paying full attention. Then, apparently registering what had been said, his eyes came up. ‘She’s here now,’ he said, not making it a question.

  ‘She is, but not alone. Georgia’s in the other bed, and I think someone’s on the floor in a sleeping bag. The room’s such a mess it’s hard to make out what’s breathing and what’s not.’

  Relaxing, Robert came to stand behind her and kissed the back of her neck. ‘You smell good,’ he murmured, tightening his embrace.

  ‘And you need a shave. Would you like me to cut up the smoked salmon and put it in with the eggs, or would you prefer it on the side?’

  ‘On the side,’ he answered, and giving her a playful slap on the rump he went to pour himself a coffee.

  After taking a sip, he turned and leaned against the unit behind him. For several minutes he watched her whisking the eggs and grinding in salt and black pepper. When she stooped to take warm plates from the oven, he noticed the outline of the thong she was wearing, and because he’d seen her naked so many times he was easily able to conjure an image of her gently rounded buttocks and their silky flesh. He knew already that she wasn’t wearing a bra, because her nipples were evident through the flimsy copper top, and the warmth of her greeting had told him that he wouldn’t be rebuffed if he wanted to take her to bed. What he also knew was why she was being so wifely and welcoming, and it injured him far more than he’d show to feel the ghost of her past love intruding on them again.

  As she set the plates down on a work surface next to a pack of smoked salmon, he took another sip of his coffee and said, quite casually, ‘I hear Alicia’s here.’

  Sabrina continued laying out slices of salmon, then returned to the Aga, apparently pretending she hadn’t heard.

  ‘Did you know?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course,’ she replied. Then with a sigh, ‘I suppose that old busybody of a postman told you.’

  ‘His name’s Sam. So why didn’t you tell me when we spoke last night?’

  ‘Because,’ she answered, picking up the pan to start sharing out the eggs, ‘I didn’t want it playing on your mind during the flight home.’

  He assessed that for a moment, and decided it could be the truth, because in spite of her feelings for Craig, and the dreadful depths she’d sunk to after the break-up, he’d never really doubted how much she cared for him.

  ‘Are you going to see her?’ she asked, putting the pan back on the warming plate.

  ‘She’s my sister, why wouldn’t I?’

  She turned round to face him. ‘I know who she is,’ she said tartly, ‘and I could give you several reasons why you shouldn’t see her, the first being out of loyalty to me.’

  At that his eyebrows gave a flicker of surprise that made her flush, but his only response was to take another sip of coffee as he walked to the table and opened the paper.

  Remembering how important it was to keep him on her side, Sabrina forced down her frustration and finished preparing his breakfast.

  ‘I don’t suppose she told you she was coming,’ she said, when their plates were in front of them and they were both sitting down.

  ‘If she had, I’d have passed the information on,’ he replied, starting to eat.

  Sabrina cut a sliver of salmon, but finding she had no appetite she put down her fork and picked up her coffee. ‘I don’t know how you can sit there so calmly,’ she said, ‘when you know…’

  ‘Sabrina, let’s drop the subject before we start saying things we’ll both end up regretting.’

  ‘You’re the one who brought it up.’

  He couldn’t deny that, but now, knowing how she was taking it, he wished he’d left it to be swept up with the leaves outside and burned to ash that might disappear in the wind.

  ‘I just don’t understand what she’s doing here,’ she went on angrily. ‘She’s got that enormous house in London, God only knows how much in the bank. She could go anywhere, so why…’

  ‘I don’t understand why you’re making it your concern?’ he interrupted irritably. ‘Considering the fact that she’s so recently lost her husband, it might be a little more charitable of you to start trying to mend fences.’

  While her heart jarred on the words, her eyes rounded with disbelief before she gave a scornful laugh. ‘Even if I wanted to, which I do not, do you seriously think she’d li
sten? She’s so full of hate towards me she’d never even let me through the door.’

  ‘Then try calling her up.’

  ‘Don’t be cute, it doesn’t suit you. A door,’ she persisted, ‘which happens to be every bit as much yours as hers…’

  ‘Don’t let’s get into that again. My mother left the house to Alicia for a very good reason…’

  ‘You’re her son, the eldest child. You were entitled…’

  ‘If the circumstances had been different I’m sure we’d have both inherited, but you’re getting into some very dangerous territory now so let’s drop it and finish our breakfasts. I’ll have some more eggs if there are any.’

  Getting up from the table she snatched up the pan and came to ladle the last two spoonfuls on to his plate.

  ‘When you do talk to her,’ she said tersely, ‘I think you should make it plain that it’s a bad idea for her to stay.’

  ‘Who says she’s going to?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve heard, but she’s got to be rolling in it now, so she could live anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here.’

  ‘Holly Wood is her home.’

  ‘No! It’s our home. She hasn’t lived here for at least twenty years, and she’s hardly set foot in the place these past two years.’

  ‘And we know why.’

  Though the muscles in her jaw knotted, and she felt herself yearning for Craig’s support, she chose to ignore the reminder as she said, ‘Does she have any idea how upset you were when your mother cut you out of her will? Have you ever told her?’

  ‘She wouldn’t need telling, and it was you who suffered most over that, not me. As far as I’m concerned Alicia deserves the Coach House.’

  At that Sabrina’s eyes flashed with temper. ‘Do you know what I think?’ she snapped angrily. ‘I think you’re afraid of her.’

  He blinked in astonishment.

  ‘You never confront her over anything,’ she accused him heatedly. ‘You let her get away with treating me as though I’m some kind of pariah, and now she’s back here and about to make my life intolerable, you’re simply going to sit back and let her.’