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seemed to have noticed nothing unusual about either of them, even
though Laurie felt sure the traces of their recent lovemaking must be
there for him to see. 'The Reverend was ihere ...' He was referring to
the vicar of Holmoak's small, ancient church. 'The Church
Authorities have accepted our tender for restoration. Isn't that
something?'
Though Laurie shared his satisfaction, nevertheless, she would have
been willing to wait an hour or so longer for this news!
Many of the beautiful stone carvings on the fa9ade of St Aidan's had
become weather-damaged. To restore them was not just a matter of
business for Keen and Son but one of artistic satisfaction. Since she'd
returned full- time to Hexham to take over and run her father's
business, there had been little on which to exercise the skill for which
she'd been principally trained.
'That is good news, George,' she said, trying to instil the warmth of
enthusiasm into her voice. She waited for him to depart, hoping that,
left alone again, she and Curtis might recapture their broken mood.
But it was not to be.
'The Reverend'd like to see ye right away. I said I was certain sure
ye'd spare him half an hour. He's waiting for ye at the Stag. I'll run ye
down.' George turned on his heel, obviously expecting Laurie to
follow him, and she had no choice but to do so.
As she passed Curtis she looked at him, her green eyes warm
emeralds, full of longing, of promise. But his were inscrutable.
'It's probably just as well,' he said, bringing a cold premonitory chill
to her heart.
All the way down to the inn Laurie felt herself being torn in two. She
had to go with George to discuss the fulfilment of the church's
contract it would give rise to awkward questions if she refused
but part of her was back at the farmhouse, wanting to ask Curtis what
he meant. With the pain of still wanting him, there began to mingle
the discomfort of hurt, uneasy pride. She'd had to invite Curtis's
lovemaking, almost beg for it and, despite his scruples, he was only
human. She doubted if many men under the circumstances, given the
physical attraction that always seemed to flare between them, would
have resisted such an open invitation. But it had almost sounded as if
he were relieved at the interruption.
With her mind full of these problems, it was hard to concentrate on
monuments, ceiling bosses or external gargoyles, but professionalism
came to her aid and she parted from the vicar with expressions of
satisfaction on both sides. Work on the church would, they both
hoped, begin in two to three weeks' time, as soon as that on
Cockshaw's Farm was complete.
'Might as well stay down for your lunch, it's almost that time,' Sue
Fletcher suggested. 'I presume Curtis will be down shortly?'
'I don't know,' Laurie admitted.
'I only asked because there's someone coming back to see him at
lunch time.' Sue watched her niece's expressive face closely. 'A
woman.'
'What sort of woman?' Laurie's stomach lurched with sudden jealous
apprehension. 'How old? What does she look like?'
'Thirtyish, small, neat build. Attractive in a hard, glossy sort of way.
She's booked in for a couple of days. But she may stay longer ... Oh,
here she is now.' Sue's voice directed her attention towards the door.
'I'm sorry, Miss Wren, but Mr Fenton hasn't come in yet. But this is
my niece. Mr Fenton's working for her at present. IH leave you to get
acquainted. Lunch in ten minutes, Laurie?'
Laurie nodded absent agreement. She wasn't hungry in any case, and
now her attention was fixed on the woman before her or rather
below her. Miss Wren was small, five foot three at the most, slightly
but curvily built and, in spite of Sue's description of her as hard-
looking, she was very attractive. She could have stepped from the
pages of a fashion magazine.
'So you're Curtis's new boss?' the woman was saying curiously. 'I've
heard a lot about you.'
'Oh?' Laurie's insides contracted. Curtis had seen this woman recently
and they'd discussed her. She didn't like the idea.
'He described you as Junoesque,' Miss Wren went on, blithely
unaware of tactlessness. 'I can see what he meant. Perhaps it would
be as well if he didn't stay around here too long.'
Laurie was never sure afterwards what she might have said, for anger
of volcanic proportions was building up inside her, if there hadn't
been an interruption, in the form of Curtis's arrival.
'Jenny Wren! By all that's wonderful!' He swooped on the small
woman with every evidence of delight and whirled her aloft in his
arms. 'So you came, after all.' He set her down once more and turned
to Laurie, his face alight with pleasure. 'This is ..he paused '... an old
friend of mine Deborah Wren. But with a surname like that, and the
size of her, everyone calls her Jenny. What are you drinking, Jen?
You'll lunch with me?' Then, to Laurie, 'Your aunt won't mind if I
don't join you inside? Or perhaps you'd like to eat with us, out here?'
'No, thanks,' Laurie said stiffly. 'I'm sure you and Miss Wren must
have a lot to talk about...'
'We do, actually,' he agreed.
'And Aunt Sue and I have things to discuss the wedding& '
'Oh?' Jenny looked at her alertly. 'You're getting married? But I
thought...?'
'No, my cousin is.'
'In that case,' Curtis said slowly, 'do you mind if I take the afternoon
off? Jenny's not been in this part of the world before, and& '
'I don't mind at all,' Laurie told him coldly, untruthfully. 'I can
manage perfectly well without you.'
But she couldn't do without him, she thought, anguish welling up
inside her as she went through to the private part of the house. She
was certain this 'Jenny- had come to take him away again before...
before you've had time to get yourself in any deeper, she tried to tell
herself, before you really get your fingers burnt. You ought to be
relieved.
It was no use. Fate, in the person of Jenny Wren, might have
intervened to try and save her from her own foolishness, but she
wasn't a bit grateful.
CHAPTER EIGHT
'WELL, I'm certainly glad you won't be starting work over at the
church before our Brenda's wedding,' Sue Fletcher said.
'Mmm.'
'The scaffolding would have ruined the wedding photos.'
'Mmm.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]