Читать книгу The Forbidden Mistress - Anne Mather - Страница 8

S OPHIE —Sherwood now, he assumed—was striding towards them from the direction of the car park. ‘Oliver,’ she said warmly, before her gaze shifted to his companion, dismissing her. ‘I thought I recognised the car. Oh, Oliver, it’s so good to see you.’

It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. And the most incredible. They’d hardly parted on friendly terms. Oliver had been disgusted by the fact that her affair with Tom had been going on for months before he’d learned of it. And Sophie herself had been eager to blame him, to accuse him of neglecting her and thinking more of his rotten business than he did of his wife.

To meet her now, to have her announce it was good to see him again, was ludicrous. He’d hoped never to have to meet her again. He wouldn’t have come here today if he’d suspected his ex-wife might be on the premises.

With a sideways glance at the young woman beside him, he realised he couldn’t speak freely in front of her. Instead, suppressing his irritation, he inclined his head. ‘Sophie,’ he greeted her noncommittally. Then, because he couldn’t think of anything else to add that wouldn’t be construed as contentious, ‘I didn’t know you worked here.’

‘I don’t.’ Sophie’s scornful denial was revealing. ‘But your brother owes me some money. Did he tell you?’ She cast another look at Grace. ‘What are you waiting for? I’d like to speak to my husband in private.’

Husband? Oliver winced, but Grace seemed unperturbed by Sophie’s implied rebuke. Turning to Oliver, she said, ‘Perhaps I’ll see you later. Tom shouldn’t be long.’

‘If he can drag himself out of the pub, you mean?’ remarked Sophie coldly. ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath.’

‘Tom’s not at the pub,’ Grace retorted evenly. ‘He had an appointment at the bank, as you probably know. Besides, he won’t be long when he knows his brother is waiting for him.’

But Tom didn’t even know he was there, Oliver reflected, though he was unwilling to admit it. He didn’t want to say anything to give his ex-wife more ammunition. He didn’t know what was going on here, but it was obvious Sophie didn’t like the younger woman. Why? Was she jealous of her? He decided he’d prefer not to pursue that thought to its obvious conclusion.

‘Whatever,’ Sophie said, now moving forward and slipping her arm though his. And, although he carefully detached himself, she insisted on staying close to his side as she edged him towards the pools that exhibited tropical fish. ‘That’s better,’ she murmured with satisfaction as a glance over his shoulder saw Grace look after them for a moment and then walk away in the opposite direction. Her tone grew suddenly venomous. ‘I don’t know how that woman has the nerve to speak to me!’

‘Why? Don’t you like her?’ Oliver halted abruptly, refusing to go any further without an explanation. ‘What’s going on, Sophie? What has Grace done to you? And why the sudden urge for my company? I know you and Tom have split up so, please, don’t pretend it has anything to do with me.’

Sophie stared at him. ‘You’ve seen Tom?’

‘This afternoon.’ Oliver’s tone was flat.

‘Then he must have told you about Grace.’

‘Told me what?’ But Oliver suspected he already knew. Sophie wasn’t particularly subtle when it came to personal matters.

She sniffed and shook her head, looking at him appealingly. ‘You don’t know what it’s been like for me,’ she exclaimed. ‘Since that woman came to work at the garden centre, things have gone from bad to worse.’

Oliver looked about him critically. ‘I’d have said the place was thriving,’ he remarked, and she uttered a most unladylike expletive.

‘In our relationship,’ she corrected him tersely. ‘Tom and I were already having problems before she came along. I’ll admit it. But I never dreamed he’d already found my replacement.’

Oliver felt a depressingly familiar sense of déjà vu. Not that he’d been seriously considering getting involved with someone who worked for his brother, he assured himself, but the news that Grace Lovell was Tom’s latest conquest wasn’t what he wanted to hear. She was too good for his brother, he thought grimly. Tom had already wrecked his marriage. He wouldn’t like to see him wreck her life as well.

He should have known, he grumbled silently. When Tom came to see him that afternoon, he should have guessed there was someone else involved. From the age of puberty, Tom had slept with countless women. He’d never married any of them, of course. Not even Sophie. So why should he, Oliver, have imagined that their relationship was any different?

‘He met her in Spain last year,’ Sophie was going on now, evidently under the mistaken impression that Oliver might be interested. ‘He’s gone out there before, when I’ve been unable to go with him. Not that your mother and father really want to see me, in any case. I’m persona non grata where they’re concerned.’

‘Sophie—’

‘He used to make the excuse that he needed to talk business with your father,’ she went on seamlessly. ‘I had no reason to doubt him. He and George often have their heads together when your father’s at home. I admit, he did seem a bit detached this time when he got home, but I put it down to his health. He’d said he was feeling a bit under the weather before he went away.’

Oliver held up both hands now, palms out to silence her. ‘Is this going somewhere, Sophie?’ he asked. ‘Because if not, I’ve got other things to do.’

Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Don’t be unkind to me, Oliver. I couldn’t bear it if you abandoned me. I know I’ve behaved abominably in the past, but you have to believe I regret it now.’

‘Sophie—’

‘No, listen to me. Perhaps it’s partly my fault that Tom found someone else. I kept comparing him to you. Yes, I did.’ This as Oliver gave her an incredulous stare. ‘It’s true. Tom and I were never meant to be together. I don’t know why I ever listened to his lies.’

‘That’s it. I’m out of here.’

Oliver had heard enough. Any minute now, she was going to say that she’d never stopped loving him and that she hoped he’d take her back.

As if.

Oliver scowled. When he’d had the—what he now acknowledged was a crazy—notion to make this diversion, he’d had no idea he’d be opening this can of worms. He’d wanted to see the garden centre. He’d half hoped he’d encounter his brother and get it over with. Now he didn’t know what to think. What did Tom really want from him?

Sophie had burst into tears at his words, her pale, delicate features stark and drawn. She’d aged, too, Oliver mused, resisting the comparison to Grace Lovell. But he knew his ex-wife well enough to realise that most of her distress was just an act.

‘Don’t go like this, Oliver,’ she begged now. ‘Please. You’ve got to help me. Tom says he can’t give me back the money I invested in the business, and I can’t support myself on what I earn at the charity shop.’

The money she’d invested in the business was her divorce settlement, but Oliver didn’t remind her of that. ‘Get another job,’ he said carelessly, heading towards the car park. He’d had enough of other people’s problems for one day.

‘I can’t,’ said Sophie desperately, trailing after him. ‘I don’t have any qualifications. You surely wouldn’t like to see your wife working behind the tills in some supermarket?’

‘Why not? Other women do it.’ Oliver paused when he reached his car. ‘And you’re not my wife, Sophie,’ he added, and for the first time it felt good to say it. ‘I’m sorry if things haven’t worked out the way you wanted, but that’s life. Get over it.’

Sophie’s chin wobbled, a tactic that would have tugged at his conscience years ago. But no longer. With a brief, ‘Tell Tom I couldn’t wait,’ he coiled his length behind the steering wheel, aware that he burned rubber as he accelerated out of the car park.

Grace saw Oliver leave from the window of the coffee shop. The small café was closing and she was helping Lucy Cameron clear the tables so the older woman could get away on time. Lucy had a family, four kids, all of school age, and Grace knew she didn’t like them being alone in the house after dark.

‘Was that who I think it was?’ Lucy asked now, joining Grace at the window as the Porsche peeled away off the site.

‘Who did you think it was?’ asked Grace, reluctant to sound too knowledgeable, and Lucy stepped back to give the younger woman a considering stare.

‘Well, it looked like Tom’s brother,’ she said. ‘I’d know that old Porsche he drives anywhere. I don’t know why he doesn’t get himself a new car. It’s not as if he couldn’t afford it.’

Grace eased her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. ‘Do you know him well?’ she asked, careful not to sound too interested, and Lucy shrugged before returning to her job of stacking the dishwasher.

‘Fairly well,’ she replied now. ‘Though it’s some time since I’ve seen him around here.’ She paused. ‘Did I see you talking to him? Didn’t he tell you who he was?’

Grace coloured, turning away so that Lucy couldn’t see her face. ‘I recognised him,’ she said. ‘He looks a bit like Tom, don’t you think? He’s darker, of course. And taller. But their features aren’t dissimilar.’

Lucy gave her a wry look. ‘It sounds to me as if you gave him a thorough once-over,’ she remarked. She frowned. ‘I always liked Oliver. I was really sorry when he and his brother fell out over—’

But she didn’t finish her sentence, and Grace guessed at once why she’d suddenly acquired an unexpected interest in the contents of the till. The clatter of heels on the tiled floor had warned her that they were no longer alone, and she was hardly surprised when Sophie Ferreira came purposefully towards her.

‘Where’s Tom?’ Sophie fairly spat the words, her bristling personality making up for what she lacked in height. ‘You can tell me now. I realise you were trying to protect him from Oliver, but he’s gone.’

‘I know.’ Despite the fact that she knew what Sophie thought of her, Grace refused to be intimidated. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She and Tom were friends, nothing more. ‘And I don’t know where Tom is. Perhaps he is at the pub. Why don’t you go and find out?’

‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do.’ Sophie’s angry response was out of all proportion to the offence. Clearly something hadn’t suited her and Grace was being made the scapegoat. ‘Anyway, when he does come back, tell him I want to see him. I’ll wait at the house. I’ve still got my key.’

Grace shrugged. ‘Okay.’ But she knew Tom wouldn’t like it. She didn’t like it much herself. The possibility that Sophie might take the opportunity to check out where Grace was sleeping now that she’d left had her hands balling into fists. But there was nothing she could do about it.

‘Right.’

If Sophie had expected an argument, she didn’t get one, and after a brief assessing glance in Lucy’s direction she turned and left the café. The two women saw her cross the yard to the car park and pull open the door of a late-model BMW. Then, following Oliver’s example, she drove out of the yard, turning in the opposite direction from the one he had taken.

‘Bitch,’ said Lucy succinctly, passing Grace on her way to the door to turn the sign to ‘Closed’. ‘That woman is a grade one bitch! I don’t know what Oliver ever saw in her.’

‘Or Tom,’ murmured Grace, but Lucy only grimaced.

‘Tom deserved her,’ she muttered, stomping back to the till. ‘I hope Oliver realises how lucky he’s been.’

Grace didn’t feel qualified to answer her. Sophie’s and Oliver’s divorce had been final long before she came on the scene. She’d heard the gossip, of course. How Tom had had an affair with his brother’s wife. But she’d also heard, from Tom admittedly, that Oliver had neglected Sophie in favour of his work. And no one could deny Sophie’s part in the breakup. Once again, according to Tom, it had been Sophie who had encouraged him, not the other way about.

Grace decided it was not something she wanted to get into a discussion over. Her own position, as a paying guest in Tom’s house, was open to enough speculation as it was. But when she’d come to work at the garden centre, Sophie and Tom had been living together. It had seemed a logical solution to her accommodation problem to accept Tom’s offer of the spare room.

Now, however, things were different. Sophie and Tom had split up and Grace didn’t know how to get out of staying in the house. The trouble was, it was so handy for the centre. On the outskirts of Tayford, not far from his parents’ home.

Mr and Mrs Ferreira had been instrumental in her accepting Tom’s offer in the first place. Grace wondered now if they’d had some intimation that all was not going well with their son and his lady friend—who just happened to be their other son’s ex-wife—and had hoped her presence might act as a calming influence. If so, it hadn’t worked. Sophie had never liked her, and Tom had attempted to compensate for her rudeness.

The upshot was, Sophie had got jealous and had started accusing her of having designs on Tom herself. Grace shook her head as she left Lucy to lock up the café and made her way to the offices that adjoined the main building. She liked Tom. Who wouldn’t? He was easy to get along with. But he’d never given her that hot, melting feeling in the pit of her stomach that she’d experienced when she’d encountered Oliver Ferreira’s dark gaze.

Just for a moment she wondered how she’d feel if she were sharing a house with Oliver. His lean, dark-skinned face and tall athletic body were so different from his brother’s bland good looks. Oliver wasn’t good-looking in the formal sense, but he was very attractive. And sexy, she conceded tensely. No wonder Sophie wanted him back.

And she did want him back, Grace would bet her life on it. There’d been so much pent-up aggression in her tone when she’d told Grace to get lost. Oh, not in so many words, of course, but Grace knew her well enough now to know what she was thinking. Sophie needed a man to lean on, and Tom hadn’t come up to scratch.

She shivered then, wrapping her arms about herself and rubbing the bare flesh below the tight sleeves of her tee shirt. But it wasn’t the cold that was making her antsy. The shiver she’d felt was purely anticipation. Despite what Sophie wanted her to think, she hoped she saw Oliver again.

She wasn’t sure how she felt when she discovered Tom was in his office, working at the computer. He must have known Sophie was on the premises, and deliberately kept out of her way. If so, he’d missed seeing Oliver as well. Or was that deliberate, too?

He looked round with a smile when he saw who it was in the doorway. ‘Hi,’ he said, subjecting her to a far too familiar appraisal. ‘How are things?’

‘Things are okay, I guess,’ said Grace slowly, propping her shoulder against the jamb. ‘Sophie’s at the house. Did you know?’

‘Sophie?’ He tried to sound surprised, but to her ears he failed abysmally. Then, as if realising he couldn’t fool her, his mouth pulled down at the corners. ‘I knew she was here,’ he confessed with a grimace. ‘I suppose she’s still agitating on about her money?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’ Grace refused to get involved in the ongoing saga. ‘Anyway, I just thought I’d warn you. In case you’d just got back.’ She sniffed the air. ‘Have you been drinking? Sophie told Oliver you’d be at the pub, but I defended you.’

‘Oliver!’ Tom looked genuinely taken aback now. ‘Oliver was here?’

‘As you’d know for yourself, if you didn’t spend so much time hiding from your girlfriend,’ retorted Grace with feeling. ‘Anyway, I’m leaving. I’m meeting a friend for a drink and I don’t want to be late.’

Tom frowned. ‘What friend?’ he asked, and she was tempted to tell him to mind his own business. But she didn’t.

‘A friend from the gym,’ she said. She spent a lot of her spare time at the leisure centre in Ponteland. Initially, she’d joined to give Tom and Sophie some time on their own. But lately, she’d been glad of a reason to avoid spending whole evenings alone with Tom. ‘You don’t know her,’ she added, straightening. ‘I’ll get something to eat while I’m out.’

‘Hey.’ Tom got up from his chair. ‘You still haven’t told me what Oliver was doing here. Did he want to see me?’ Then he grimaced impatiently. ‘Of course, he must have done. Why else would he come here?’

‘You tell me.’ Grace would prefer not to discuss Oliver right now. ‘Anyway, Sophie collared him as soon as she saw him.’

‘Sophie?’ Tom scowled now. ‘Goddammit, why didn’t you say so? She would have to turn up here today.’

‘Does it matter?’ Grace didn’t understand his agitation. ‘You said you were seeing him today. I assumed you must have arranged for him to visit.’

‘Well, I didn’t. I went to his office this afternoon, as a matter of fact.’ Tom glanced at his watch now, and Grace decided it was time to beat a tactical retreat.

‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ she said, deciding she would go to the cinema after her date with Cindy. The last thing she wanted was for Tom to have another row with Sophie and then expect her to provide a shoulder to cry on. ‘Don’t wait up.’

Tom swore. ‘Do you have to meet this woman tonight?’ he demanded irritably. ‘After the day I’ve had, I could do without an undiluted diet of Sophie’s complaints. Come on, Grace, you know what she’s like. This will be another attempt to get her money. And I can’t stand knowing she can sink this business if she chooses.’

Grace sighed. ‘Surely things aren’t that bad?’

‘They’re that bad,’ Tom insisted. ‘I wish I’d never encouraged her to invest in the first place.’

‘But you did.’ Grace frowned as a thought occurred to her. ‘Was that why you wanted to see Oliver today? Surely you don’t expect him to bail you out?’

‘No!’ Tom’s tone was sharp. Then, as if realising there was no point in lying to her, he lifted his shoulders in defeat. ‘Well, okay,’ he conceded. ‘Maybe I did entertain the thought that he might help me. He’s family, isn’t he? And it’s not as if he couldn’t afford it.’

Grace gaped at him. ‘You can’t be serious, Tom. Oliver has every reason to hate your guts!’

‘Why? Because I took that hag away from him?’ Tom snorted. ‘He should be thanking me. He doesn’t know when he’s well off.’

‘I don’t think Oliver will see it that way,’ said Grace honestly. Despite his initial interest in her, he’d abandoned her soon enough when his ex-wife had turned up. And it was obvious Sophie had her sights set on rekindling that relationship. The way she’d gushed all over Oliver had made Grace feel physically sick.

‘He will,’ said Tom confidently. ‘I know Oliver. This was his father’s business, too, remember? He won’t want it to close. Just think how many people would be out of work.’

Grace conceded he might have a point. ‘So why don’t you ask your father for help?’ she asked curiously. George Ferreira couldn’t wait to get back to the garden centre when he came home.

‘Dad doesn’t have that kind of money,’ Tom protested. ‘Sophie put two hundred thousand into the business. How do you think I was able to buy the smallholding next door?’

Grace pulled a face. ‘And you think Oliver will cover her investment?’ she exclaimed incredulously. ‘Tom, that’s a pipedream and you know it.’

His scowl reappeared and he strode restlessly about the office. ‘He’s got to,’ he muttered. ‘It’s a good investment.’

‘And did you tell him this?’ asked Grace. ‘Were you up front with him? Is that why he came here today, to check out how we’re doing?’

‘No, no and no,’ muttered Tom, hunching his shoulders. ‘I didn’t get around to it. He threatened to throw me out of the building.’

‘And this is the man who’s going to help you?’ Grace shook her head. ‘Get real, Tom. It’s not going to happen. You’re going to have to go to the bank again.’

‘He came here, didn’t he? I didn’t ask him to.’

‘Curiosity,’ said Grace dampeningly. ‘I got the impression he was curious, that’s all.’

‘Well, I’ll find out tomorrow,’ said Tom, forcing a note of optimism into his voice. ‘He’s meeting me for lunch at The Crown.’

‘Okay.’ Grace turned towards the door. ‘Well, good luck with Sophie. I wouldn’t keep her waiting any longer than you have to, if I was you.’

‘So you won’t change your mind?’

‘I can’t.’ Grace was definite. ‘I’m sorry.’ She paused and then added encouragingly, ‘Perhaps if you were nice to her, she’d reduce her demands.’

‘Not a chance.’ Tom was gloomy. ‘She wants her pound of flesh and she’s determined to have it.’ He hesitated a moment and then rounded his desk again, flinging himself into his chair. ‘Just spare a thought for me when you’re slurping spritzers with your friend.’