Читать книгу Memories Of The Past - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 6

‘YOU can’t have been serious, Daddy,’ Helen complained incredulously.

Dinner was long over, Caleb Jones had taken his leave a short time ago, and the two of them were enjoying a cup of coffee before going to bed.

Helen had lost her equilibrium somewhat after she had realised her father had seriously contemplated the idea of her working for Caleb Jones.

At the time she had passed the moment off with a flippant comment about liking her job in London, but she had known from her father’s expression that he intended to pursue the subject once they were alone. Helen had decided that attack was the better form of defence!

Her father didn’t appear in the least perturbed. ‘It’s an ideal step up the ladder for someone in your position,’ he reasoned lightly.

‘It’s a leap,’ she acknowledged self-derisively.

‘Well, then——’

‘Too much of a leap, Daddy,’ she derided.

‘I’m sure Cal would——’

‘I certainly don’t want any favouritism from him, thank you,’ she snapped.

Her father looked annoyed by her outburst. ‘I wasn’t talking about favouritism, damn it——’

‘Then what else would you call it?’ she challenged, her cheeks red.

He drew in a controlling breath. ‘Cal would merely consider your application as fairly as any others he receives.’

‘I don’t want to be “considered”——’

‘I wish you would forget your prejudice of the man, and think what a really good opportunity it would be for you to work for him——’

‘I don’t want to work for him!’ she cut in exasperatedly. ‘I find the man totally obnoxious, and on top of that I question his ethics.’

‘Helen!’

She had gone too far with her last remark as far as her father was concerned, she could see that, and yet it wasn’t just Caleb Jones’s underhand dealings over Cherry Trees that bothered her about the man; she still didn’t know enough about him professionally to trust him completely in that area either.

‘The City is suspiciously quiet about him,’ she insisted. ‘I would need to know a lot more about him than I do now before I would even consider working for him.’

‘Don’t let one bad experience sour you, Helen,’ her father advised softly.

Colour warmed her cheeks at this gentle reminder of her youthful folly.

She had been extremely vulnerable when she’d first moved to London, had kept herself very much to herself during those first few years, so that by the time she’d taken up her position as a junior accountant in one of the larger firms she had been ripe for the attentions of a more senior accountant with the company.

It had taken her several months to realise that, while Daniel’s personal investments weren’t exactly illegal, they were at the very least unorthodox. And she had only found that out because by this time he had believed them to be close enough for her to be taken partly into his confidence, to suggest that she might like to supplement her own income in the same way.

It had been the end of what she had believed to be a promising relationship, and also the last time she had dated anyone in her own profession. The last time she had dated anyone at all, her father would have accused, but that wasn’t strictly accurate; she did occasionally go out to dinner or the theatre if she met anyone she thought might be interesting to spend an evening with. But she had to admit those times were few and far between, and she rarely repeated the experience.

‘I haven’t, Daddy,’ she assured him softly. ‘I just find more satisfaction from my career than I do in a relationship with a man.’

‘That’s simply because you haven’t met the right man yet,’ he insisted.

‘And have no interest in doing so for some time. If ever!’

‘Then you should at least be interested in this position with Cal,’ he reasoned.

Professionally she knew that she should, that she was, but personally she knew she would never be able to work for Caleb Jones. And besides, she hadn’t just been making excuses when she’d said it was too big a leap for her professionally; Caleb Jones would need a very senior accountant indeed to handle the job he was talking of.

‘It would have meant you could move back here,’ her father put in pointedly.

And he would have no reason to sell Cherry Trees; she had already realised that. But she knew, even if her father didn’t, that that had to be the last thing Caleb Jones wanted. Which meant her chances of getting the job were nil before she even started. She wouldn’t humiliate herself by even trying!

‘I enjoy my work in London, Daddy,’ she told him firmly. ‘I have no intention of leaving it.’

‘I see,’ he said flatly.

Helen sighed. ‘No, you don’t, but then you don’t want to.’

‘I just want——Oh, never mind what I want,’ he dismissed irritably. ‘I can see I’m just wasting my breath.’

‘Playing the martyr doesn’t suit you, Daddy,’ she told him drily.

An unaccustomed flash of anger darkened his eyes. ‘You are the most stubborn, annoying—I can’t believe you’re a child of mine!’

She chuckled as she stood up. ‘Strange—everyone, including you, has always said I’m exactly like you.’

He gave her a glowering look. ‘Don’t be so damned facetious!’

She grinned at him, her eyes glowing deeply green in her amusement. ‘And I’m too old for that to work any more either!’

‘More’s the pity,’ he mumbled, disgruntled.

Helen gave a leisurely stretch. ‘Why don’t we talk about all this again in the morning? It’s been a long day and it’s late.’

‘And nothing will have changed by tomorrow,’ he said ruefully. ‘But I see your point about the time.’ He stood up with a sigh. ‘I’m feeling a little tired myself.’

In truth he did look slightly strained; he had lines about his eyes and mouth that she hadn’t noticed earlier. Could it be that her father was finally beginning to show his years? Or was it something more than that? She felt pangs of guilt for not noticing the subtle changes earlier. And were they changes that Caleb Jones had seen and recognised? If they were he was being doubly underhand!

She looked at her father with concern. ‘Are you feeling all right, Daddy?’

His ready smile erased the lines of strain, making Helen wonder if she could have merely imagined they were there at all. Her father was probably just tired after all.

‘Never felt better,’ he assured her. ‘I always feel more cheerful when you come home for the weekend.’

‘Daddy!’ she reproved ruefully. Would he never give up?

He grinned. ‘I’ve never claimed to be anything but a devious old devil.’

No, he hadn’t, Helen mused as she prepared for bed. But he had overstepped his limitations this time. There was no way she was going to give up her job in London and come back down here to live. Maybe she was being selfish, but it was no use pretending she felt any differently.

She certainly wouldn’t want to live permanently anywhere near Caleb Jones!

‘Restful, isn’t it?’

Helen turned sharply at the sound of that softly spoken voice.

Her father had gone off into town on some errand or other, and she had taken the opportunity to stroll along the beach near the estate; it had once been a place she had spent many soothing and calming hours.

And it had, in recent years, always been somewhere she had come to alone…

Caleb Jones standing several feet away, his bare feet planted firmly in the golden sand, bronzed legs revealed by the white shorts, a pale blue short-sleeved shirt completely unbuttoned down the front showing a chest that was just as tanned, was not a welcome intrusion into her solitude.

Far from it!

‘I always thought so,’ she replied pointedly.

In fact she had been immensely enjoying the gentle lap of the waves on the sand, her feet bare as she enjoyed the latter’s coolness near the water’s edge.

The local people from the village rarely used this beach, a much more popular one, with a few amenities like a small café, situated just around the bay. It shouldn’t have surprised her in the least that Caleb Jones had discovered and invaded this quiet stretch of water; he seemed to have intruded on several other important parts of her life too!

His mouth quirked into a half-smile, and Helen was sure he knew exactly what she was thinking. His next words confirmed it. ‘I always come here when I feel like being alone,’ he drawled.

‘No Sam today?’ she challenged.

Caleb shrugged. ‘He’s taking a nap. His idea of the start of day is daybreak, so by this time he’s ready for a sleep. So am I, come to that,’ he added self-derisively.

‘Don’t you have him trained not to wake you yet?’ Helen couldn’t help her curiosity about the child she had met so precipitately.

He grimaced. ‘That’s a little difficult; his nursery is right next to my bedroom. And playing in his cot only lasts for a few minutes once he’s woken up. After the last episode I’m loath to leave him anywhere on his own too long; lord knows what he would get up to!’

Helen frowned. ‘Doesn’t his nanny——?’

‘I don’t have a nanny for Sam,’ he cut in quietly, bending down to pick up a pebble and skim it across the clear water in front of them.

His action gave Helen a few seconds to take in his surprising statement. If he didn’t have a nanny for the little boy then that must mean… Good grief, wasn’t that taking his guardianship of Sam just a little too far? After all, there couldn’t be many men in his financial position who would even think of doing such a thing, let alone carry it out.

‘That seems a little—ambitious,’ she dismissed coolly.

No wonder he rarely spent time in London any more if he had taken on the full-time care of a very young child!

He raised dark brows mockingly. ‘Because I’m a man?’

Her cheeks warmed at his taunting tone. ‘Not necessarily,’ she answered defensively. ‘Bringing up a child is difficult for anyone, but for a man alone, a man with a full-time career to think of, I would have thought it was virtually impossible.’

‘It’s—hard, at times,’ Caleb admitted. ‘Hence the need for the PA.’

Helen stiffened, at once wary. ‘Wouldn’t it have just been easier to engage a nanny for the baby?’

‘Easier, perhaps,’ he conceded consideringly. ‘But not half as much fun!’

He sounded as if he was really enjoying caring for the baby, and she had no reason to think otherwise; after all, he did seem to have changed his whole lifestyle to suit his new responsibilities. But even so, she still found it an odd thing for him to have done, especially when the child supposedly wasn’t even his own.

‘I wish you luck with your other venture,’ she told him dismissively, hoping he would go away and she could be left alone to her thoughts—and the privacy of the beach!

He gave her a sideways glance, standing next to her now. ‘Not thinking of applying yourself?’

She gave him a knowing look. ‘There wouldn’t be much point, would there?’

‘No?’

He didn’t give anything away, she would give him that! ‘No,’ she drawled derisively.

‘Your father would like it.’

Her mouth twisted. ‘But you and I know it’s a foregone conclusion that it will never happen.’

‘We do?’

‘Of course,’ she snapped, impatient with his evasive tactics. ‘If you gave me the job it would mean my father wouldn’t sell Cherry Trees to you.’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, we both know you don’t want that to happen.’ Her eyes flashed.

‘Do we?’

‘Don’t start playing games with me, Mr Jones,’ she bit out disgustedly. ‘We both know that, for reasons of your own, you have decided to have Cherry Trees back as part of the estate, and my moving back here to live would certainly defeat that objective.’