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A Wife On Paper Page 7
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And in the last six months, since he’d been sick, it had simply been ticking over with repeat orders. Basically, it was a one-man band. If he wasn’t out there finding new stock, drumming up new business…
It could probably be saved, turned around. It would need some painful pruning to reduce costs and someone at the helm who knew what they were doing. Time maybe for Francesca to exercise her marketing muscles. Work for her designer dresses.
As for personal expenses, the lease, property taxes and utilities were the biggest drain and nothing could be done about them. Then there was Connie to pay, the fees for Toby’s private nursery school. And keeping Francesca on her pedestal didn’t come cheap.
Just as well she was keen to step down.
Finally, when he could put it off no longer, he opened Steve’s letter.
It was handwritten and, as he read it, he could hear his brother’s voice as clearly as if he was sitting alongside him, saying the words.
Guy, if you’re reading this I guess I’ve cashed in my chips before I’ve been able to make everything right and, as always, you’re the one picking up the pieces. Just as well you’ve had so much practice.
You already know what I’m asking you to do. You’ll know why, too. I want Toby to have two parents. To be loved by someone who knows what I went through and will never allow that to happen to him. Fran may not see it that way but I’ve left her with nothing. Less than nothing.
We had a good first year, but you know me, I wasn’t built for the long haul. I just wish I could have lived up to her. Frankly, it was something of a relief when I opened a letter from a lawyer and discovered that she’d been married before. Just to know that she wasn’t perfect, you know? I did tell you it was her decision, but I don’t blame you for not believing me… Not that I ever let her know that I’d found out. Read her letters. Besides, my secrets were far worse. The house, the money I owe.
Take care of her, Guy. And my boy. Duty, honour—you’re so much better at that stuff than I ever was and so is she. I know she’ll do what’s right.
I’ve not been the best of partners, I’ll be the first to admit it. But she was always loyal and true. I didn’t deserve her and, believe me, I know that the night that condom broke was the luckiest in my entire life.
Okay, this is getting tough, and I want to finish it before she comes back. I’ve told that wet lawyer to lay the ‘wishes of a dying man’ bit on thick, but I don’t suppose he will. You’re going to have to do that for me. Tell her it’s for Toby. That should do it. And, if she’s still not willing, add in Matty and Connie. Without her they’re going to be in real trouble.
About the money, Guy. Well, it’s too late for sorry and I’d do it again like a shot given the chance. To be honest, I still can’t believe I kidded you so easily. You’re usually sharper than that, less trusting. I don’t think I’d even have tried if I hadn’t seen the way you looked at Fran that night. You’re usually so good at hiding your feelings, but when I walked in behind her you were lit up… I can tell you now that it frightened the life out of me because I knew I never deserved someone like her. Let’s face it I’m so shallow that I make a puddle look deep, while you… Well, let’s just say that I know your worth, even if I never admitted it. I couldn’t risk you coming back, though. Finding out. That’s why I provoked that final row. You throw a mean punch, brother, but it was worth the pain just to keep you away.
I can’t tell you how much I missed you.
Steve
‘Idiot,’ Guy said, but softly. ‘I missed you, too, brother.’
He dropped the letter on his desk and stood up. He needed to think. Needed air.
Leaving his car at the office, he headed in the direction of Green Park, but it was too small to do more than take the edge off his driving need to do what his brother had asked. To move mountains, divert rivers, change the world for Francesca Lang.
That she was in trouble was clear. Whether she knew how much trouble might not yet have dawned on her, but she had no house, no money, no job and a company that, if it was a horse, someone would have taken out and shot.
That she would resent his interference in her life after an absence that she believed was due to his own personal pettiness was crystal clear. She loathed him and, right now, he didn’t blame her. He certainly hadn’t done anything to improve the situation since he’d arrived.
He could show her the letter. The temptation to be absolved…made whole in her eyes…was almost overwhelming. But that would diminish Steve. And expose his own feelings for her.
She didn’t need that. What she needed was to be able to believe that he was going to marry her purely out of duty and guilt. And was going to keep his distance.
Fran poured a couple of glasses of wine from a bottle she’d found open in the fridge and handed one to Matty. ‘Today is a day I never want to repeat,’ she said, raising her glass. ‘Here’s to the back of it.’
‘That tough?’
‘Honestly?’ she asked.
‘That would probably be best,’ Matty replied.
‘Well, the good news is that I won’t have to sell the house to pay inheritance tax on it.’
‘Well, that is good. What’s the bad news?’
‘I won’t have to sell it because Steven didn’t own it.’
The silence was complex. Full of unspoken thoughts. Fran wished she’d kept that news to herself. At least for the time being. But she needed to talk to somebody…
‘I thought you said he bought it from Guy,’ Matty finally managed.
‘That’s what Steven told me. Apparently he was being economical with the truth. The house did once belong to the family, but was sold off by his father some years ago. It was just chance it happened to be available to let when we were looking for somewhere to live.’
Matty choked as she swallowed a mouthful of her drink and let slip an expletive. ‘What did Guy have to say about that?’
‘It’s none of his business, Matty.’
‘Look, I don’t want to sound over-anxious, but you’re going to need someone on your side—’
‘Not him,’ she snapped back.
‘Is there anyone else?’
‘You don’t understand—’
‘I understand the situation perfectly. Guy Dymoke is the devil himself. The one whose name must never be spoken. Anyone would think the pair of you had had a passionate affair or something—’
‘No!’ Then, because she knew she’d overreacted, ‘We only met once before. When Steven and I had dinner with him when we told him that we were moving in together. And about the baby.’
‘Oh, please! I wouldn’t have blamed you. I thought he was absolutely dishy. I gave the eyelashes a thorough workout but, charming though he was, I could see I was wasting my time. The man was too distracted to notice.’
‘Distracted? Who by?’ She felt her face grow warm. ‘Not that it matters,’ she said quickly. ‘If he chose to flirt at the funeral reception—’
‘Did I say he was flirting?’ She didn’t answer. ‘He was distracted, that’s all.’
‘Guilt-ridden, more like. Guy and Steven had a difficult relationship and I made it worse. He thought we should have got married and gave Steven a hard time about it. Thought he was the one who wouldn’t commit.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘At least I could put that right.’
‘You told him? About your marriage?’
‘I had to.’
‘Oh, I see. You wanted him to feel guilty.’
‘I feel guilty enough for both of us, Matty. But I have no doubt he’s wishing he’d taken the time to mend fences.’
‘How do you know he didn’t? Steven might have had his own reasons for not wanting a family reunion. He probably owed him money.’ Fran was too slow with her reassurance. ‘He did, didn’t he?’
She caught the edge of panic in Matty’s voice as it began to dawn on her that her home was now seriously at risk. ‘No. No, of course not,’ she said reassuringly. �
��And I’ll have the company up and running at full speed again before you know. I’m looking forward to the challenge. We’ll be fine.’
‘Good. I like having a roof over my head.’
‘I’m really sorry about the money you spent. I know—’
‘Don’t…’ Matty reached out, took her hand. ‘Don’t blame yourself. I would have done it anyway. Where else would I go, for heaven’s sake?’
Don’t blame yourself?
That was easier said than done. She’d been sleep-walking through life. If she’d cared enough she’d have known…
‘What about the lease? How long is it for? Did the lawyer say anything about that?’
Tom Palmer hadn’t said anything much. If she hadn’t prompted him she’d still have been in blissful ignorance about the house, and it occurred to her that even now he’d probably kept back more than he’d revealed. She’d seen the silent exchange between Tom Palmer and Guy. The ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look, decide what to do when there isn’t a hysterical female to disrupt proceedings. No wonder he’d bustled her out…
But she managed a reassuring smile for Matty. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. Guy said he’d deal with all the loose ends.’
All she had to do was marry him.
‘He can’t be that bad, then.’
‘What? Oh, I don’t know. One minute I’m convinced he loathes me, the next he’s being so sweet with Toby…’
‘Don’t drive him away, Fran. Toby will need a good man to be there for him.’
‘The way he was there for Steven?’
‘You’ve only heard Steven’s side of that.’ She didn’t add… The man who lied to you about this house. But then she didn’t have to. ‘He was Steven’s brother, Fran. Toby’s uncle.’ She held out her glass for a refill. ‘Besides, he’s very ornamental. The kind of man you’d want to share a sofa with on a cold winter’s night when there was nothing on the television.’
‘It’s a little soon to be thinking that way.’
‘For you, maybe. Not for me.’ Then she laughed. ‘It’s okay. I promise I’ll be good.’
‘Don’t bother for me,’ she managed, but her laugh was too brittle. ‘If he whisked you away to a life of luxury and ease that would be enough for me.’
But it would mean seeing them together. Living with it every day…
‘Enough for you, maybe. I’d want a man who was around a little more of the time. Besides, there isn’t just me,’ Matty pointed out. ‘There’s Toby. And Connie. And that stray cat Steven didn’t know you kept fed on the finest cat food.’
‘She visits half a dozen houses in this street. I don’t think I’m prepared to sacrifice my virtue so that she can eat.’
‘No. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I guess I’m edgier than I thought.’
‘It’ll be okay, Matty. I’ll talk to Tom Palmer. He’ll mediate with the landlord’s agent if necessary. There’s no reason why they should terminate the lease. I was Steven’s partner, after all. I’m sure there’s some legal thing about being able to hand a lease on…’
To next of kin. Or a wife. She was neither.
‘Okay. But don’t leave it too long to sort out the details, will you. As I said, I like to sleep at night. And in the meantime we’re going to have to renegotiate our arrangements. Just paying my expenses isn’t good enough any more.’
‘This is a nightmare. I can’t tell you how sorry I am—’
‘Enough. It isn’t your fault.’ And Matty waved away her apology. ‘And I’m beginning to get back on my feet.’ She pulled a face. ‘Where work is concerned, anyway. So, how did you get on at the office this morning?’ she asked, firmly changing the subject.
‘I never got there. After visiting the lawyer we came back here.’
‘We?’
‘Guy and me.’ Matty’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘We decided we’d better go through Steven’s things first,’ she said quickly. ‘He copied some files from the laptop…’
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Funny?’
‘You were smiling.’
Fran curbed a smile that had somehow sneaked beneath her defences and said, ‘Oh, nothing. He let Toby think he was helping, that’s all. Then he took them home to study while I went through Steven’s briefcase.’ This time Matty’s eyebrows shot up. ‘He’s Steven’s executor. Not that there’s much to execute.’
She groaned inwardly at the apparent callousness of her remark.
‘It’s me, Fran. You don’t have to pretend.’
‘No. No more pretence.’ Then, ‘But I wrote a pile of cheques last week for bills, including Toby’s nursery fees. I’m going to need to know if the bank will honour them. They may be a little less relaxed about the overdraft now that Steven is dead.’
‘I suggest you leave the bank to fight that one out with the lawyers.’
‘No, Matty. I’ve been living in a dream world. Letting life happen to me instead of taking it by the scruff of the neck and taking control.’ She looked up at the ceiling. ‘We have a lease, but I suspect it’s one on a house of cards, one that’s going to collapse around my ears unless I do something to stop it.’
Matty made no attempt to reassure her, which was worrying. Instead she said, ‘What did you have in mind?’ Then, ‘Have you got anything in mind?’
‘Actually, I’ve got a three point plan. One,’ she said, ticking them off on her fingers, ‘I’m going into the bank on Monday to see exactly where I stand. Reduce any outgoings that aren’t absolutely essential.’ She managed a grin. ‘I’m not going to have time to waste at the health club for a start. From now on I’ll have to take the cheap keep-fit option and run in the park.’
‘Whatever turns you on.’
‘Then I’m going to have to find out what Steven was planning when he was taken ill. He had something in mind, but said it would wait until he was feeling better.’ She hadn’t pushed him. Hadn’t wanted him to see that she knew he was never going to get well, although obviously he’d eventually worked it out for himself. ‘I’ve been going through his stuff trying to find out what it was, but all I can find is some paperwork written in Chinese.’
‘Why don’t you try the local Chinese takeaway? Someone there might be able to help.’ Then, ‘Sorry. I don’t suppose sarcasm helps. What’s number three?’
‘Hot and sour soup, isn’t it?’
Matty pulled a face. ‘I meant on the three point plan.’
Marry Guy Dymoke.
She pulled herself together. ‘I’m going to buy a Lottery ticket.’
CHAPTER FIVE
EASY enough to announce that she was answering the wake-up call that fate had rung so loudly in her ears. It was quite another to look the world in the eye at eight o’clock in the morning—and most of it appeared to be packed into the underground train with her—and act on it.
Francesca had put in a couple of years at the coal face of marketing before she’d met Steven. It hadn’t exactly been a riveting experience. What ideas she’d offered had been brushed aside before, as the most junior member of the team, she’d been despatched for coffee, sandwiches, photocopying. She hadn’t needed too much persuading not to return after Toby was born. None of the wives or partners of Steven’s business friends had worked, and it had been easy enough to fall into the round of gym workouts, lunches and dinner parties. To pretend to herself that she had a full and rewarding life.
Easy to pretend that she was happy. Bury the memory of a moment when the world had appeared to light up. Steven was Toby’s father. They were a family and she would never do anything that would tear them apart. Even if some days she had felt as if she was being crushed by cotton wool…
No more. From now on she was going to keep both feet firmly on the ground. Make a new start. And as she stepped out of the station and into the daylight she tugged her jacket firmly into place. At least she looked the part. But then that was easy. She’d been playing the role of perfect partner, mother and hostess for so long t
hat she could do it with her eyes closed.
But this wasn’t playing house. Make believe happy families. This was the real world and she wasn’t fooling herself into believing that the right suit and a confident smile was going to be enough. But it was a start.
Thankfully she wouldn’t have to confront the staff immediately. She’d have an hour before anyone arrived. An hour to sort through Steven’s desk and root out any more little bombshells he’d kept hidden from her. An hour to fit herself behind his desk and make it look as if she belonged there and maybe come up with a plan to fill the big empty space in her brain. If not, she thought as she unlocked the door and let herself into the small, rather scruffy office and storage area tucked away in a courtyard beside the canal, it would be a question of playing it by ear…
Easing the key from the lock she heard a drawer being opened in the little cubby hole that served Steven as his private office.
Had she walked in on a break-in?
A muttered curse released her. She’d know that voice anywhere, and just at that moment a burglar would have been more welcome, but she closed the door quietly and crossed the outer office.
Guy looked as if he’d been there all night. Dishevelled, unshaven, gaunt with fatigue and almost unbearably desirable. She’d coped with the first shock of seeing him at the funeral because, numb with the tragedy that had overtaken her and Toby, she had somehow been immune. Functioning on automatic. Beyond any real feeling. But his arrival had jolted her out of her emotional stasis and each unexpected appearance battered at her defences. Anger helped shore them up, but seeing him like this utterly demolished them. Just like the first time when she’d walked into that restaurant and lost her heart.
When it had already been too late.
She’d told herself that it was nonsense. That her hormones were in turmoil. That Steven was the father of her child. That he was kind and funny and charming and she’d have married him like a shot if it had been possible, just as Guy had urged.