The Rinucci Brothers

Chapter Four

ON THE last day of term the pupils were due to leave immediately after lunch. Evie skipped lunch and prepared to go quickly. She had a long journey ahead.

‘Making your escape?’ Debra said, looking in while she was clearing up her things.

‘It’s not exactly an escape.’

‘That’s all you know. The Head is talking about kidnapping you and locking you up in a cupboard until next term.’

Evie laughed. ‘Then I’d better make a run for it.’

‘Is this from the kids?’ Debra indicated a large card with many signatures scrawled on it.

‘Yes, isn’t it sweet of them?’

‘I don’t see Mark’s name. He didn’t manage to get back in time then?’

‘No, and I’m sorry not to have the chance to say goodbye to him. On the other hand, he might have come to rely on me too much, so maybe it’s best as it is. I just wish I didn’t have this niggly feeling that I’ve let him down.’

‘You haven’t. You did all you could. Now, forget about this place and have a great summer. Are you going anywhere nice?’

‘A little seaside cottage for a few weeks.’

‘Lovely. With Andrew?’

‘He’ll join me in a day or two, but it’s a bit iffy at the moment. He’s very fed up with me and I don’t blame him.’

‘Never mind. Once you’ve got him down there you’ll bring him round—moonlight on the sea, romantic atmosphere. He won’t stand a chance.’

‘I hope not.’

Now that she was on the verge of losing Andrew, Evie found herself remembering how sweet-tempered and kind he was, and what a fool she would be to let him go. But all would be well. He would join her, they would spend quality time together, and all their troubles would be forgotten.

What she hadn’t told Debra was that she was clearing her things out of the cottage for the last time. It had belonged to an elderly great-uncle, who had recently died and left it to her. But he had also left a mountain of debts and the cottage had to be sold to pay them.

It was time to remove the possessions she’d left there over the years, and she had rented a van to take them. When she’d finished her goodbyes, she went out to where it was parked in the school yard.

It was a relief to head out of noisy, crowded London and south to Cornwall, and Penzance. The sun shone, the countryside soon enveloped her, and her spirits rose.

She had a three hundred mile trip and it was late at night as the van bumped and shuddered down the track to the place where the cottage stood close to the sea.

It was an old-fashioned building, the ground floor taken up by one large room. At one end was a tiny kitchen and at the other end a staircase rose directly to the upper floor.

Her body ached from sitting in one position for so long, and she walked up and down, stretching and rotating her shoulders until she felt human again. After preparing a quick snack she decided to go to bed at once. The house was a little chilly and would be more cheerful in the morning.

Or perhaps it would be more cheerful when Andrew arrived. Of course he was coming, she assured herself. He’d left a question mark over his arrival, but that was because he was annoyed about her cavalier treatment. It couldn’t end like this, and if it did it was Justin Dane’s fault for making her stand him up.

Her mind resisted the idea that it was Mark’s fault. That vulnerable boy carried enough burdens already without her piling more on him. Perhaps she’d already done so, by leaving without a proper goodbye. She wasn’t sure what else she could have done, but the thought troubled her.

She thought about the way she’d fought with Justin. She hadn’t meant to fight him, but there didn’t seem any other way to communicate with this man. At least he listened while she was insulting him, even if only out of surprise.

If he’d had any decency he’d have come to the school and invited her home to say goodbye to Mark. But it clearly hadn’t occurred to him to consider his son’s feelings.

She must have been lonelier for Andrew than she realised, because she was suddenly swept by despondency. It would be better in the morning, she promised herself. On that thought she fell asleep.

Next day she went into the village and bought groceries. On her return she started spring-cleaning so that the cottage should be at its best for potential buyers. By keeping busy she could ignore the fact that the telephone didn’t ring and there was no sign of Andrew.

She made sandwiches and ate them sitting outside, watching the sunset again, feeling suddenly very much alone.

But then she heard it. The sound of a car horn followed by crunching as wheels came down the gravel track.

Andrew! she thought, delighted.

She was surprised too, because it was not his way to arrive without calling first, but obviously his feelings had carried him away. In a moment she’d jumped up and raced around the cottage to where a car had just drawn up. Then she saw that the driver was not Andrew.

‘You!’ she cried, aghast, as Justin Dane climbed out. ‘What on earth—?’

Her voice faded as she saw Mark emerging too, smiling when he saw her. She smiled back and made her voice sound pleased as she greeted him.

‘We were in the area and thought we’d look you up,’ Justin said.

‘You just happened to be in this remote part of the world?’ She couldn’t keep the scepticism out of her voice.

‘Well—it’s a little more complicated than that,’ he said, sounding as though he were choosing his words carefully.

‘Let’s go inside and you can tell me how complicated it is,’ she said, trying to sound agreeable, although inwardly she was cross.

Once before he’d spoiled things for her and Andrew. Now he was going to do it again.

Mark darted away around the side of the house, calling, ‘Hey, look how close we are to the sea!’

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Justin said.

‘I wonder if you do,’ she mused wryly.

‘I shouldn’t have just come here without warning, I know.’

‘Mark has my email address. You could have used it.’

‘But you might have said no.’

She threw up her hands in despair.

‘In that case, you were probably right not to take the risk,’ she said with ironic appreciation of his methods.

‘I did it for Mark. He was upset at not seeing you again. We came to the school yesterday; you’d already gone. In fact, I’m in Mark’s bad books because he wanted to go sooner and I promised to get home early from work, but I got held up and then—’

‘So it was your fault that you missed me,’ she said, amused despite herself.

‘Yes, and then the caretaker told me you’d left in a van, but didn’t know where.’

‘Otherwise you’d have come chasing after me like we were in some Grand Prix.’

‘Mark was upset. And may I remind you who it was told me that I should listen more to him?’

‘Oh, very clever!’ But what could she say? It was true. ‘So how did you know how to find me?’

‘You told Mark you had a cottage by the sea.’

‘I didn’t tell him where.’

‘Well, I just—’ reading wrath in her eyes again he became deliberately vague ‘—I just asked around.’

‘Where?’ she asked implacably.

‘I went to your flat. One of the neighbours was very helpful—’

‘You mean you had me investigated like a criminal?’

‘I had to find out where you were.’

They glared, each baffled to find the other so unreasonable. Justin wondered why she couldn’t understand that he’d done whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. That was what he always did, and it seemed simple enough to him.

To Evie it was also simple. She disliked being treated like prey to be hunted down for his convenience. But she wouldn’t say so while Mark might be within earshot. The real quarrel could wait until later.

‘Dad,’ Mark called, reappearing around the side of the building. ‘It’s a wonderful place. Is it really yours?’ This was to Evie.

‘Sort of,’ she said. ‘Come in and have something to eat.’

But Justin said, ‘It’s getting late. Mark’s tired and needs to go to bed soon, so I guess we’ll find a hotel, if you’ll tell us where the nearest one is.’

It was a direct challenge, and thoroughly unscrupulous.

‘You know I won’t turn you out at this hour,’ she said.

He gave her a smile that was suddenly charming.

‘But you can’t just put us up without warning. I don’t suppose you have the room, and I don’t want to inconvenience you—’

‘That is not true,’ she said, speaking lightly but with a glitter in her eyes that gave him fair warning. ‘You do not care if you inconvenience me. You don’t care about anything as long as you get your own way. Now shut up and get in there before I stamp hard on your feet.’

The smile changed into a grin. He’d won again.

Mark was also grinning, Evie was glad to notice. For his sake she forgave his father everything.

Well, almost everything.

From the amount of luggage he hauled into the cottage it was clear that he’d come prepared to stay for a while. But it would just be until Andrew arrived, and not a moment longer.

‘It’s not what you’re used to,’ she warned. ‘No luxury. Just basic.’

‘You wouldn’t be trying to put me off?’ he said, regarding her ironically.

‘Would I do that?’

Again he gave that grin. This was Justin Dane in holiday mood. The grin was surprisingly attractive with a blazing quality that could lift a woman’s spirits unless she was on her guard against him. Which she was.

Mark dashed in and looked around at the large downstairs room with its big open fireplace.

‘It’s great!’ he enthused. ‘Just like a picture book.’

‘I didn’t think modern boys read that sort of picture book,’ she said.

‘Not now,’ he agreed, ‘but when I was a kid.’ He looked round and found something else to please him. ‘No central heating,’ he said ecstatically.

‘That’s a plus?’ Justin queried.

‘Radiators would have spoiled it,’ Mark explained.

‘That’s what Uncle Joe used to say.’ Evie chuckled. ‘He said he didn’t want to spoil the place with a lot of ‘‘new-fangled rubbish’’. We used to put electric fires on in winter.’

‘If there’s somewhere to lay our heads,’ Justin said, ‘that’s all we ask.’

‘You can have the guest room. It’s got two single beds.’

She’d just finished cleaning the room. Now she found linen and dumped it on the beds.

‘It won’t take you long to make them up,’ she said, smiling at Justin. ‘Mark, why don’t we leave your father to it, while you and I go into the kitchen and we’ll see what there is for supper?’

She departed, throwing a challenging look over her shoulder. He regarded her with his eyebrows raised, but did not seem disconcerted.

When they were in the kitchen Evie muttered to Mark, ‘What is your father playing at?’

Mark’s shrug was eloquent. ‘Dad sets his heart on something and he has to have it. He promised me I could talk to you again.’

‘Even if it means chasing me halfway across the country and missing a whole day’s work?’

Mark gave a snort of delighted laughter.

‘Actually he won’t be missing that much,’ he said. ‘He’s brought his laptop computer. He can send and read emails at any hour. And he’s got his mobile phone so that all his calls won’t go on to your phone—’

‘All his calls? How many calls will there be, and how long is he planning to stay?’

‘The actual time doesn’t matter,’ Mark said wisely. ‘Dad can get through more business in five minutes than anyone he knows. That’s what he says, anyway. And he always calls America in the evening because they’re five hours behind us, and he says that’s really useful—’

‘In other words, he isn’t actually planning to take any time off at all. It’ll be business as usual, just in a different setting.’

Mark nodded.

‘Until I tell him to leave.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ Mark said, awed by this reckless courage.

‘I would. I’ll be straight with you, Mark. At the right time, I’ll square up to your father and order him off my premises.’

‘Wow!’ he said, impressed. He moved closer and spoke like a conspirator. ‘Will you promise me something?’

She too leaned close. ‘What?’ she whispered dramatically.

‘That when you order Dad off your premises I can be there to see. Promise me.’

She laughed. ‘You wretched boy. All right, I promise you can be there to enjoy it.’

They jumped apart as Justin appeared with air of suppressed triumph.

‘Everything is done upstairs,’ he said. ‘If you’d care to look.’

‘Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?’ she asked.

‘Come and see.’

She was beginning to suspect the truth, but it was still a surprise to find the beds made perfectly and all the clothes neatly hung up in the wardrobe.

She realised that he was watching her closely, enjoying her expression.

‘Well done,’ she said. ‘Can you cook as well?’

‘Try me.’

‘I intend to,’ she said incredulously.

But again he proved himself better than her doubts. His egg and chips might not have been haute cuisine but they were properly cooked, even if both father and son drenched everything in tomato ketchup. She had to smile at the sight of them acting in unison, wiping their plates with bread, fearful of losing the last smidgen of ketchup.

When the meal was over she leaned back, watching him, her arms folded.

‘Well?’ she said.

‘Well?’

She inclined her head slightly towards the sink.

‘I did the cooking,’ he said indignantly.

‘Yeah, but we invited ourselves, Dad,’ Mark muttered.

‘Fine. I’ll wash, you dry.’ He rose. ‘Where’s the washing-up liquid?’

‘I’ll do it,’ she said, laughing.

In the end they all did it together in an atmosphere that was more pleasant than she would have dared to hope. Afterwards Mark asked to watch the television, and was amazed to discover that the set only received four terrestrial channels and had no teletext. Nor was there a video.

‘Gosh, it’s like history!’ he gasped.

‘Mark!’ Justin said sharply.

‘It’s all right.’ Evie chuckled. ‘He didn’t mean it rudely. It must be like something out of the Dark Ages to a modern child.’

In the end they settled down to watch the news, until they heard an ominous sound outside. Evie turned down the sound and they all listened in alarm.

‘It’s raining!’ Mark whispered in horror.

They went outside, where it was pelting down.

‘It’ll be all right in the morning,’ Evie said.

Mark looked at her. ‘Promise?’

‘Promise,’ she said recklessly. ‘And now I think you should go to bed. It’s late and tomorrow’s a big day.’

‘Can we go swimming?’

‘What about your cold?’

‘It’s better, honestly. Isn’t it, Dad?’

‘I wouldn’t have brought him here otherwise,’ Justin assured her. ‘Mark, you heard what Miss Wharton said. Up to bed.’

Mark took her hand. ‘Miss Wharton—can I call you Evie?’

‘Mark!’

‘Well, I’m not his teacher any more,’ she said. ‘Evie it is.’

Mark departed, satisfied.

‘I apologise,’ Justin groaned.

‘Don’t. He’s just being friendly.’

‘How friendly do you think he’ll be tomorrow when it rains?’

‘It won’t rain.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Because I promised him. You heard me.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘It won’t rain. I promised.’ She yawned. ‘I think I’ll go to bed too. Sea air makes me sleepy. ‘G’night.’

‘Goodnight.’

In her room she undressed and went to bed, listening for the sound of him coming upstairs. She was still listening when she fell asleep.

She didn’t know what roused her, but she awoke suddenly in the darkness. The clock by her bed showed two o’clock. She listened and thought she could hear a voice talking in the distance.

Pulling a dressing gown on over her pyjamas, she crept out into the corridor and went to the top of the stairs, from where she could see down into the main room.

Just as Mark had predicted, Justin had set up a laptop computer and was staring at the screen at the same time as talking into his cellphone. He spoke softly, but Evie could pick up the tense note in his voice.

‘I’m sorry but I just couldn’t take the call this afternoon—I know what I said but I had important business—’

She went quietly downstairs and into the kitchen. By the time she returned with two large mugs of tea he was off the phone.

‘Thanks,’ he said, taking one. ‘Sorry if I disturbed you, but I had to catch up with my work somehow.’

‘Yes, you’ve obviously come prepared. I’m surprised you could put work aside long enough to drive down here. All those hours not at the computer, not on the phone, not making contacts.’

‘I don’t bother to make contacts any more. I don’t need to. People contact me.’

‘You arrogant so-and-so,’ she said, amused. ‘Anyway, it isn’t true. There’s always someone bigger you can be doing business with.’

‘That’s true,’ he reflected. ‘Why don’t you say outright that you’re just surprised that I put Mark first?’

‘Well—’

‘Don’t worry, you’ve already made your poor opinion of me pretty plain, and I’m not arguing with it.’

‘Hey, I didn’t exactly—’

‘Are you saying you don’t have a poor opinion of me?’

‘Well, it improved when you took the trouble to drive down here for Mark’s sake. Although it takes a dive at your way of moving people around like pieces on your own private chessboard.’

‘Do I do that? Well, maybe sometimes.’

‘You know quite well that you do.’

‘Miss Wharton—’ he began in a patient voice, but she stopped him.

‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You did, you called me something.’

‘I called you Miss Wharton.’

‘But why?’

‘I thought it was your name.’

‘But why aren’t you calling me Evie?’

‘Because you haven’t given me your permission.’

She tore her hair. ‘I gave it to Mark.’

‘Yes, to Mark. Not to me.’

He was serious, she realised. Was it possible for a modern man to be so old-fashioned? Against her will she realised that there was something charming about it.