Читать книгу Almost Lost - Блейк Пирс - Страница 6

The trip to Ryan Ellis’s house took Cassie longer than she’d expected. It seemed impossible to avoid the heavy traffic that clogged up the highways on the drive south, and there were two sections of road works where she had to take a lengthy detour.

The extra time on the road meant she almost ran out of gas. She had to use the last of the money Jess had loaned her to top up her tank. Worried that Ryan would think she had changed her mind, she messaged him to apologize and say she’d be late. He’d replied immediately saying, “No problem, take your time, drive safe.”

Once she’d left the highway and headed into the countryside, the views were idyllic. She craned her neck, staring over the trimmed hedgerows at the sloping vistas of patchwork fields in every shade from deep green to golden brown, scenic farmhouses, and winding rivers. The orderly landscape gave her a sense of peace, although she knew the gathering clouds meant afternoon rain, and she hoped she would reach her destination before it set in.

More than six hours after leaving London, she arrived at the quaint seaside village. Even in the dull light, the village was enchanting. The car rattled over cobbled streets, where gaps in the rows of houses gave her glimpses of the picturesque harbor beyond. Ryan had directed her to drive through the village and along the cliff side road. The house was a couple of miles further, overlooking the sea.

Pulling up outside the open gate, Cassie stared in amazement, because the house beyond was almost too perfect to be true. It felt like a place she’d always dreamed of living in. A simple yet gorgeous home, with sloping lines and wooden detail that blended harmoniously with its surroundings and reminded her of a ship moored in the harbor—only this building was nestled on a cliff, with an incredible view of the ocean beyond. The well-tended yard housed a swing and see-saw. Both were slightly rusty, and Cassie guessed the state of the equipment provided a clue about the children’s ages.

Cassie glanced into the car’s mirror and checked her hair—the waves were sleek and shiny from her efforts early this morning, and her coral lipstick was immaculate.

She parked on the cobblestone driveway and walked to the house along a pathway bordered by flower beds. Even at this time of year the beds were bright with yellow blossoms, and she recognized flowering honeysuckle planted beyond. In summer she guessed they would be a riot of color.

The front door opened before she reached it.

“Afternoon, Cassie. Good to meet you. I’m Ryan.”

The man who greeted her was a head taller than her, fit-looking and surprisingly young, with tousled, sandy-brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He was smiling, looking genuinely happy to see her, and he was wearing a faded Eminem T-shirt and a worn pair of jeans. She noticed a dishcloth was hooked into their waistband.

“Hi, Ryan.”

She took his outstretched hand. His grip was warm and firm.

“You caught me in the middle of cleaning the kitchen, preparing for your arrival. The kettle’s boiled—are you a tea drinker? It’s such an English habit, I know, but there’s also coffee if you’d prefer.

“I’d love some tea,” Cassie said, reassured by his down to earth welcome.

As he closed the front door and led the way to the kitchen, she thought to herself that Ryan Ellis was very different from what she’d expected. He was friendlier than she’d thought he’d be, and she loved that he was prepared to clean the kitchen.

Cassie remembered her arrival at her last au pairing assignment. As soon as she’d walked into the French chateau, she’d sensed the charged, ugly atmosphere of conflict. In this house, she didn’t pick that up at all.

Walking over polished wooden floorboards, she was impressed by how tidy it looked. There were even fresh flowers on the hall table.

“We spruced the place up for you,” Ryan said, as if reading her mind. “It hasn’t looked this good for months.”

To her right, Cassie saw a family room with huge sliding doors leading onto a verandah. With comfortable-looking leather furniture and paintings of ships on the walls, the room appeared welcoming and tasteful. She couldn’t help but compare it with the ostentatious showroom décor of the chateau where she’d previously worked. It felt like a real family lived in this home.

The kitchen was neat and clean, and Cassie noticed the quality of the appliances. The kettle, toaster, and food processor were a top brand. She recognized their bright designer patterns from an article she’d read in the in-flight magazine, and she remembered having been astonished by their price.

“Have you eaten lunch?” Ryan asked after pouring the tea.

“No, but it’s fine—”

Ignoring her protests, he opened the fridge and took out a plate piled high with fruit, muffins, and sandwiches.

“On the weekend I like to have a stash of snacks available. I wish I could say this was especially for you, but it’s standard fare for the children. Dylan is twelve and starting to eat like a teenager, Madison is nine and plays a lot of sports, and I’d rather they gorged on this than junk food or sweets.”

“Where are the children?” Cassie asked, feeling another stab of nerves at the thought of meeting them. With such a fun, genuine dad they would probably be just as Jess had described them, but she needed to be sure.

“They cycled down the road after lunch to visit a friend. I told them to make the most of the afternoon before the weather turned. They should be back any minute—if not, I might have to take the Land Rover to pick them up.”

Ryan glanced out the window at the darkening sky.

“Anyway, as I explained to you, I’m stuck for help over the next while. I’m a single parent now, the kids need as much distraction as they can get, and my work deadline is unbreakable.”

“What do you do?” Cassie asked.

“I own a fleet of fishing and leisure boats which operates from the port in town. This time of year is when the boats get maintained, and I have a repair crew on site at the moment. They are hellishly busy, and the first storms of the season are almost here. That’s why time’s so tight, and my present circumstances aren’t helping.”

“It must be terrible to have gone through a divorce, especially now.”

“It’s been a very difficult time.”

As Ryan turned away from the window, in the changing light, Cassie realized he wasn’t just attractive, but exceptionally good-looking. His face was strong and chiseled, and from the defined muscles in his arms, she thought he looked to be extremely fit.

Cassie chastised herself for ogling this poor man’s appearance when he was going through emotional hell. All the same, she had to admit he was compellingly handsome, so much so that she had to stop herself from staring.

“Ryan, the only problem is that I don’t have a valid work visa at this point. I have one for France, and I’ve been fully cleared by the au pair agency, but I didn’t realize it works differently here.”

“You were referred to me by a friend,” Ryan said, smiling. “That means you can stay with us as a guest. I will pay you cash, completely off the books, so you will receive it tax-free, if that works for you.”

Cassie felt a surge of relief. Ryan understood her situation and was willing to accommodate it without any issues. This was a huge weight off her shoulders. She realized it might even be the deciding factor, and had to stop herself from accepting the job on the spot. She reminded herself to be careful, and to wait until she’d met the children before committing.

“How long would you need me for?”

“A maximum of three weeks. That will give me time to get this project done, and we’ll be heading for the school holidays by then so we’ll have a chance to bond as a family. Rebond, I should say, as a new family. They say divorce is the most stressful life experience, and I think the children and I can confirm that.”

Cassie nodded in sympathy. She was sure his children would have suffered. She wondered how much Ryan and his wife had fought. Inevitably there would have been fights. It just depended whether they’d ended in shouting and recriminations, or in tense, smoldering silence.

Having experienced both as a child, she wasn’t sure which was worse.

While Cassie’s mother was alive she’d managed to keep the lid on the worst of her father’s temper. Cassie remembered the tense silences from when she was younger, and it had allowed her to develop a finely tuned sense for conflict. She could walk into a room and pick up instantly if the people had been fighting. The silences were toxic and they wore you out emotionally because there was never an end to them.

If there was one thing you could say in favor of loud fighting, it was that eventually it ended, even if it was with glass being broken or emergency services being called. But that caused other trauma and lasting scars. It also brought a sense of fear, because shouting and physical violence showed that you could lose self-control and therefore could not be trusted.

That, in summary, had been her father after her mother had died.

Cassie looked around the cheerful, tidy kitchen and tried to imagine what might have happened there between Ryan and his wife. The worst fights, in her experience, took place in the kitchen and the bedroom.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this,” she said softly.

Ryan was looking at her closely and she returned his gaze, staring into pale, piercing blue eyes.

“Cassie, you seem to understand,” he said.

She thought he was going to ask her something else, but at that moment the front door opened.

“The children are home, just in time.” He sounded relieved.

Cassie glanced out the window. Raindrops were spattering the glass, and as the door slammed, a cold winter shower started pouring down.

“Hey, Dad!”

Footsteps thudded along the wooden floor and a slim young girl wearing cycle shorts and a green tracksuit top came sprinting into the kitchen. She stopped when she saw Cassie, looked her up and down, and then marched over and shook her hand.

“Hello. Are you the lady who’ll be looking after us?”

“My name’s Cassie. Are you Madison?” Cassie asked.

Madison nodded, and Ryan ruffled his daughter’s shiny brown hair.

“Cassie is still deciding whether she wants to work for us. What do you think? Will you promise to be on your best behavior?”

Madison shrugged.

“You always tell us not to make promises we can’t keep. But I’ll try.”

Ryan laughed and Cassie found herself smiling at the cheeky honesty of Madison’s response.

“Where’s Dylan?” Ryan asked.

“He’s in the garage, oiling his bicycle. It was squeaking on the way up the hill and then the chain fell off.” Madison took a deep breath and walked to the kitchen door.

“Dylan!” she yelled. “Come here!”

Cassie heard a distant shout. “Coming!”

“He’ll take forever,” Madison said. “Once he starts fussing with the bikes he doesn’t stop.”

Noticing the plate of snacks, she made a bee-line for them, her eyes lighting up. Then, looking down at the contents, she gave an exasperated sigh.

“Dad, you made egg sandwiches.”

“Is that a problem?” Ryan asked, his eyebrows raised.

“You know my views on egg. It’s like having sick in a sandwich.”

She carefully selected a muffin from the opposite side of the plate.

“Sick in a sandwich?” Ryan’s voice combined outrage and amusement. “Maddie, you shouldn’t say that kind of thing in front of a visitor.”

“Watch out, Cassie, that egg stuff sticks to everything,” Madison warned, making an unrepentant face at her father.

Cassie suddenly felt a weird sense of belonging. This banter was exactly what she’d hoped for. So far, this seemed to be a normal, happy family, teasing each other, looking out for each other, even though she was sure each of them had their own quirks and difficulties. She realized how tense she’d been, anticipating that something would go wrong.

She hadn’t yet taken any food because she had felt self-conscious about eating in front of Ryan. Now, she realized how hungry she was, and decided she’d better have something before her stomach embarrassed her by growling audibly.

“I’ll be brave and try a sandwich,” she volunteered.

“Thank you. I’m relieved somebody appreciates my culinary excellence,” Ryan said.

“Egg-cellence,” Madison added, making Cassie laugh.

Turning to Cassie she said, “Dad does all the cooking. He just hates to clean.”

“That I do,” Ryan said.

Madison took another deep breath and faced the kitchen door.

“Dylan,” she yelled.

Then she added, in a normal voice, “Oh, there you are.”

A tall, lanky boy strolled in. He had the same brown, shiny hair as his sister and Cassie wondered if he’d just had a growth spurt, because he looked to be all limbs and sinew.

“Hi, pleased to meet you,” he said to Cassie, somewhat absently.

In his boyish features, she could see a similarity to Ryan. They shared the same strong jaw and well-defined cheekbones. In Madison’s pretty, oval face she saw less of Ryan and wondered what the children’s mother looked like. Were there family photos anywhere in the house? Or had the divorce been so acrimonious that these had been removed?

“You must shake hands,” Ryan reminded his son, but Dylan turned his hands outward and Cassie saw the palms were black with oil.

“Uh-oh. Come over here.”

Ryan hurried over to the sink, turned on the tap, and poured a generous amount of dishwashing liquid into his son’s hands.

While Ryan was distracted, Cassie took another sandwich.

“What was wrong with the bike?” Ryan asked.

“The chain was skipping when I changed up the gears,” Dylan explained.

“Did you fix it?” Ryan was monitoring the progress of the handwashing with some concern.

“Yes,” Dylan said.

Cassie expected him to elaborate further but he didn’t. Ryan passed him a towel and he dried his hands, grasped Cassie’s hand briefly in a formal hello, and then turned his attention to the snacks.

Dylan didn’t say much while he ate but Cassie was impressed by how much food he managed to put away in a few minutes. The plate was nearly empty by the time Ryan returned it to the fridge.

“You’re not going to have an appetite for dinner if you keep eating, and I’m about to make spaghetti Bolognese,” he said.

“I’ll eat all the spag bol too,” Dylan promised.

Ryan closed the fridge.

“Right, kids, I need you to go and change out of your cycling clothes now, or you’ll catch a chill.”

When they had gone, he turned back to Cassie and she noticed that he sounded anxious.

“What do you think? Are the children what you expected? They’re good kids, although they can have their moments.”

Cassie had liked the children immediately. Madison, in particular, seemed like an easy child and she couldn’t imagine there being any shortage of conversation around the talkative young girl. Dylan seemed more complex, a quieter, more introverted person. But it could also be that he was older, heading into his teens. It made sense that he wouldn’t have very much to say to a twenty-three-year-old au pair.

Ryan was right, they seemed like easy children, and more importantly, he came across as a supportive father who would help with any problems if they occurred.

Decision made, then. She would take this job.

“They seem lovely. I’ll be happy to work for you for the next three weeks.”

Ryan’s face lit up.

“Oh, that’s great. You know, Cassie, from the time I saw you—no, from the time I first spoke to you, I was hoping you’d agree. There’s something about your energy that intrigues me. I would love to know what you’ve been through, what has shaped you, because you seem—I don’t know how to describe it. Wise. Mature. At any rate, I feel my children will be in excellent hands.”

Cassie didn’t know what to say. Ryan’s praise was making her feel awkward.

Ryan added, “The kids are going to be thrilled; I can see they like you already. Let’s get you settled in and I’ll give you a quick tour of the house. Do you have your bags with you?”

“Yes, I do.”

Taking advantage of a lull in the rain, Ryan walked with her to the car and picked up her heavy bags with ease, carrying them into the hallway.

“We only have one garage, which is the Land Rover’s domain, but parking on the street is totally safe. The house is simple. We have the living room on the right, the kitchen ahead, and on the left is a dining room we hardly ever use, so it’s turned into a jigsaw puzzle, reading, and games room. As you can see.”

Peering in, he sighed.

“Who’s the puzzle enthusiast?”

“Madison. She loves working with her hands, crafts, anything she can get busy and do.”

“And she’s sporty?” Cassie asked. “She’s multi-talented.”

“I’m afraid with Maddie, schoolwork is the weak point. She needs help academically, especially in math. So any assistance you’re able to offer, or even just moral support, will be great.”

“What about Dylan?”

“He’s a passionate cyclist, but can’t be bothered with any other sport. He’s very mechanically minded, and a straight A student. He’s not sociable, though, and it’s a fine balance with him because he can be a moody boy if he feels pressured.”

Cassie nodded, grateful for the input on her new charges.

“Here’s your room. Let’s put these bags down.”

The small room had a beautiful sea view. It was decorated in turquoise and white, and looked neat and welcoming. Ryan placed her larger bag by the foot of the bed, and the smaller one on the striped armchair.

“The guest bathroom is down the passage. We have Madison’s room on the right, Dylan’s room on the left, and finally mine. Then there’s one other place I must show you.”

He accompanied her back down the hall and they headed into the family room. Beyond it, through the glass doors, Cassie saw a covered balcony with wrought-iron furniture.

“Wow,” she breathed. The sea view from this vantage point was exquisite. There was a dramatic drop to the ocean below, and she could hear the waves crashing against the rocks.

“This is my peaceful place. I sit here every evening after dinner to unwind, usually with a glass of wine. You’re very welcome to join me any evening you choose—wine’s optional, but warm, windproof clothing is compulsory. The balcony is solidly roofed, but not glassed in. I considered doing it but found I couldn’t. Out there, with the sound of the sea and even an occasional gust of spray on stormy nights, you feel so connected to the ocean. Take a look.”

He opened the sliding door.

Cassie walked out onto the balcony and headed to the edge, grasping the steel railing.

As she did so, dizziness flooded her, and suddenly, she wasn’t looking down onto a Devon beach.

She was leaning over a stone parapet, staring in horror at the crumpled body far below, flooded with panic and confusion.

She could feel the stone, cold against her fingers.

She remembered the hint of perfume that had still lingered in the opulent bedroom, and the way that nausea had boiled inside her and her legs had gone so weak that she’d thought she would collapse. How she’d been unable to remember how the events of the previous night had played out. Her nightmares, always bad, had become far worse and more vivid after that shocking sight, so she’d been unable to tell where dreams ended and memories began.

Cassie thought she’d left that terrified person behind, but now, as the darkness rushed up to swallow her, she understood that the memories, and the fear, had become a part of her.

“No,” she tried to scream, but her own voice seemed to come from a distant, faraway place and all that came out was a ragged, inaudible whisper.