Chloe’s Cornish Christmas (The Blossomwood Bay #7)

Chapter Twenty Three

By the time they’d finished their cleaning duties and Chloe had waved Liz and her friends off to the pub, she felt like she’d spent the day at an intensive weight-lifting class. The muscles at the back of her neck and in her upper arms ached, and it was all she could do to hoist her handbag onto her shoulder without grimacing at the heavy burden.

As Liz had given her a lift to the village hall that morning, she headed across the village green to collect her now repaired and sparklingly clean Renault. After thanking Joe effusively for his hard work, she removed her purse and phone, unsure how Joe wanted her to pay for the new parts he’d installed, and his labour costs, and was shocked when he told her they had already been covered – by Nick.

She’d tried to argue, to insist she should pay, but Joe simply shook his head and told her to talk to Nick about it and handed her the keys. She thanked him profusely and as she drove back to Fairholme Farm, she felt like she’d been reunited with an old friend who’d had a much-needed makeover.

She was also excited about spending the remainder of the day brushing up on how to create scenery for a small stage production. When she was at school, the students in the art department had been asked to create the set design for several theatrical productions staged by their drama colleagues, and she had loved being a part of that, so she was looking forward to revisiting the techniques they had used once more.

When Chloe drew to a halt in front of the door to the cidery she paused before heading up to the loft and pulled out her phone for what felt like the hundredth time that day to check her messages. She was surprised, and a little concerned, that she hadn’t heard from Nick since he’d left for Guildford that morning. She was about to call him, but she was worried that he might be in the middle of an important business meeting, so she decided to send an upbeat text instead.

Smiling, she alighted from her car and experienced a sharp jolt of alarm when her gaze fell on a dark green Jaguar XJS parked next to the doors of the ramshackle barn in which Martyn’s Porsche had been housed. The sun had bid farewell over thirty minutes ago, and there was very little light left in the sky, making the arrival of an unexpected visitor at that time of the day a bit disconcerting, especially as Nick wasn’t around.

Then she relaxed as she realised the car belonged to Nick’s friend who had dropped in to see him while on route to stay with his wife’s family in St Ives for Christmas. As she strode across the courtyard to see if she could find him and offer him a beverage, the man himself emerged from the white wooden gate that led from the orchard into the courtyard. She smiled when she saw he was wearing the same navy-blue Crombie coat; he looked like he’d just wrapped up an important court case and was heading out to celebrate a win.

However, this time Dan wasn’t alone; he was holding hands with a tall, slender woman with shoulder-length auburn hair worn in glossy waves. She, too, was smartly dressed in a belted trench coat in a rich emerald green and a pair of leopard-print kitten heels that matched the expensive designer handbag that was hooked over her arm. They made a very attractive couple.

‘Hello, you’re Nick’s friend, aren’t you?’

‘Ah, hello there. Nick said he had a friend staying for a few days. I’m Dan Jamieson and this is my wife Amanda.’

‘It’s good to meet you both. I’m Chloe Campbell. I’m sorry, Nick’s not here at the moment. He’s had to dash back to Guildford for an urgent business meeting and won’t be back until tomorrow night, I’m afraid.’

‘That’s okay, I didn’t expect him to be around. It’s just that I loved the property so much when he gave me the grand tour the other day, that I just had to bring Mandy over to see the place, and all the land that comes with it. As I expected, she loves it just as much as I do, and…’ Dan glanced at his wife and waited for her to smile and nod her head in agreement. ‘We’ve decided to go ahead.’

‘Go ahead? Go ahead with what?’

‘The purchase,’ said Dan, his eyes filled with excitement. ‘We’ve been thinking about relocating to Cornwall for a while now, and this is the perfect place for us to put down roots; it’s close, but not too close, to Mandy’s parents, with a decent-sized garden, and there’s the bonus of having a couple of outbuildings we can utilise at some stage in the future, too.’

Chloe was so stunned by what Dan had said that all she could do was gape.

‘Sorry, I don’t…’

‘We’re buying the farmhouse. We’re not interested in continuing with the orchard side of things, though; too much like hard work.’ Dan grimaced, his blonde fringe flopping over his face. ‘But I don’t think it’ll be too difficult to convert the area into a garden. Maybe we’ll install a swimming pool with a couple of hot tubs, which would attract a higher price if we decided to rent out the loft apartment and renovate this derelict barn here. I’m hoping we might get planning permission to erect half a dozen wooden lodges at the far end of the orchard, too, or, best case scenario, to build a couple of houses we could sell on; everyone knows that homes are in short supply in this part of the world.’

‘ A couple of hou… ses ?’

‘I know, exciting, isn’t it? This is the beginning of a dream Mandy and I have had for years, but we just haven’t found the right set-up for what we want to do. Until now. We both agree that Fairholme Farm – with a few tweaks here and there – can fulfil everything on our wish list. We have so many amazing ideas, don’t we, darling?’

‘We do, we absolutely do. We’re so grateful to Nick for letting us have first refusal.’

Dan laughed. ‘Although I assume he’ll be in line for a hefty finder’s fee, as well as a decent bonus for his endeavours, and I’ve no doubt that a transaction like this will also cement his position at his new firm, that’s if he doesn’t decide to hightail it back to London so he can return to quaffing Champagne in the bars of the West End. Maybe he’ll even be able to upgrade his Porsche to that Ferrari he’s been banging on about for the last few years.’

Chloe’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might break through her ribcage and head for the hills. Confusion swirled, along with bewilderment and a touch of nausea.

‘Are you okay?’ asked Amanda, reaching out to place her hand on Chloe’s arm. ‘You look very pale.’

‘I’m fine. I just… I had no idea the farm was for sale.’

‘Oh.’ Amanda sent an uncomfortable glance at her husband.

‘Okay, well, I think we’ve seen everything we need to see for now,’ said Dan, hurriedly. ‘We really should be heading back to St Ives. Mandy’s mum has promised us one of her famous stargazy pies and we don’t want to be late for that. It was good to meet you, Chloe. Please pass on our regards to Nick when he gets back from Guildford and tell him we’ll be in touch over the next few days to formalise our offer.’

Dan stepped forward to shake Chloe’s hand, then Amanda did the same, before they hastened towards the Jaguar and sped off down the driveway, the roar of the powerful engine reverberating through the air while Chloe remained in the courtyard, her thoughts scattered like the gravel in their wake.

What was going on?

Puzzled and disorientated, she headed up the stairs to the loft, slumped down on the sofa, and pulled out her phone to call Nick, no longer worried whether he was in a business meeting or not. However, her call went to voicemail, and she didn’t trust herself to leave a cogent message, so she hung up and dropped her phone onto the coffee table.

To her surprise, she found she was trembling, so she sat back against the cushions and dragged the mohair throw across her lap, but before she could take a breath to work through what had just happened and try to make sense of it, her phone started to buzz. She leaned forward to grab it, more relieved than she cared to admit that Nick had, finally, found the time to call her back.

‘Hi, Chloe, I’m sorry I’ve not had a chance to call you today. Things at the office have been somewhat manic, to say the least.’

‘Yes, they’ve been a bit manic here, too.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Never mind, it’s all sorted now. Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Is it true? Is your friend Dan buying the farm?’

‘What makes you ask that?’

‘I’ve just bumped into him, and his wife Amanda, and they told me they were buying it!’

‘Oh, well, I—’

Chloe heard the discomfort in Nick’s voice and all hope that the couple had made some kind of mistake evaporated, replaced by a feeling of dismay, and something else, something much stronger, more personal, more painful. She was eager to hang up in order to process her emotions in private, but there was a question she needed answering before she cut the call.

‘Does your aunt know?’

‘I’ll tell her when the offer is formalised in writing, but Chloe I—’

‘Do you know he’s planning to turn the orchard into a swimming pool?’

‘I’m not—’

‘Or build houses on the land, if he can get planning permission?’

‘People need houses, Chloe. Like everything, there’s two sides to this argument. Yes, it’s important to protect the natural environment, and to nurture the animals, insects and plants that call it their home, but people also need somewhere to live, somewhere they can settle and raise their families. You know that more than most.’

Chloe recoiled at his bluntness and she was temporarily stunned into silence. She couldn’t believe he’d used her personal circumstances to illustrate his point, as though her homelessness in some way justified what he was doing, and the off-hand reference to her current living arrangements reminded her of what Joe had said earlier.

‘Why did you pay the repair bill for the Renault?’

‘Chloe, I really think we should discuss this when—’

‘Tell me, please.’

‘Because…’ Nick hesitated and she could almost feel him squirm. ‘Can we talk about this when I’m back in Perrinsby?’

‘No, I’d like to know now.’

She heard him sigh. ‘Because it was me who ran you off the road that night.’

‘What?!’

‘It was dark, it was raining, I was driving an unfamiliar car, and maybe I was travelling a bit too fast for the road conditions, but you came out of nowhere, heading straight into my path. I tried to avoid you, and I’m sure you tried to do the same, except unfortunately you were the one who ended up in the hedge.’

‘That… that was you ?’

‘Yes, I—’

‘Oh my God! But you drove away! You disappeared round the corner! Why did you come back? Did your conscience get the better of you?’

‘What? No! If you remember, the road was narrow, little more than a farm track. I carried on until I found a suitable place to do a three-point turn and I came straight back! I’m so sorry, I take full responsibility, and that’s why I gave you a lift back to Perrinsby and paid for your repairs. Look, Chloe, we need to talk… about a lot of things, but I can’t get back down there until Friday lunchtime, just before the matinee. In the meantime, I need you to promise me that you’ll keep what’s happening with the farm to yourself, just for the time being.’

‘Why? Don’t you think the villagers have a right to know?’

‘I do, but—’

‘Secrets cause pain, Nick.’

‘We all keep secrets, Chloe, even you.’

‘I… Goodbye, Nick.’

When she cut the call, Chloe felt as though her head was about to explode and her heartrate pounded at maximum velocity. Unfortunately, it seemed that the director of fate hadn’t finished stirring up turmoil yet, and she couldn’t believe it when her phone started to ring again. Her immediate assumption was that it was Nick calling her back, anxious to continue where they left off which was the last thing she wanted to do.

But it wasn’t Nick.

‘Ah, Chloe, it’s good to hear your voice after all this time.’

‘It’s good to hear from you, too, Jonathan.’

An image of her ex-boss – sitting alone in his corner office, surrounded by piles of files and legal tomes, his Jermyn Street shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he puzzled over a particular tricky point of law – flashed through her mind, and despite everything that was going on in her life, she couldn’t help allowing herself a smile. She knew Jonathan would still be there, in exactly the same place, at nine o’clock on a Wednesday night, when he was well into his dotage.

‘I got your voicemail, and all I can say is that you must be a mind reader.’

‘A mind reader? What do you mean?’

‘We had our monthly partners’ meeting last week, and one of the topics we discussed was an unfilled vacancy in our civil litigation department. I was given the go-ahead to contact the recruitment company we use, but if you’re interested, I would love to offer you your old job back. We could really do with someone with your expertise in the medical negligence team, which is now headed up by Harriet Franklin; the two of you work well together, am I right?’

‘Yes, yes, we do…’

‘Great, that means you’ll be able to hit the ground running. Okay, we’ll discuss salary and benefits next week, but I just wanted to let you know the good news before we break for Christmas so you can relax and enjoy the celebrations instead of spending your time surfing the recruitment websites.’ Jonathan expelled a deep guffaw. ‘Merry Christmas, Chloe, and welcome back on board the good ship that is Baxter & Carlton.’

‘Merry Christmas, Jonathan,’ she muttered, but she knew he’d already returned to his paperwork.

Desperate for a break from the bombardment of confusion, Chloe turned off her phone and placed it on the coffee table, before settling back onto the Chesterfield sofa in Ruth’s luxury loft retreat and staring unseeingly out of the window. As the minutes ticked by and her emotions began to calm, she wondered which of that day’s nightmares to start working through first.

How was Jake?

Had he recovered from his bout of food poisoning? Would he be well enough to appear in the pantomime on Friday? Had Hannah confessed her feelings for him and told him about the romance cookies? If so, what was his reaction? Did he hate her, as Hannah had feared? Chloe groaned. Why on earth had she thought getting involved was a good idea?

And did she really think she could reproduce the pantomime’s background scenery to the same professional standard as Ryan?

She hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in years. What if she had forgotten everything she’d learned at school? What if she was unable to create anything that would even remotely give the audience the impression of the inside of the three bears’ quirky cabin in the woods? If she made a mess of it, she would not only be letting Liz and Fran down, but also the whole community.

And what about Jonathan’s unexpected offer?

Yes, she had been the one to call him to ask if there were any vacancies at the law firm, but if she were truly honest with herself, she hadn’t thought anything would come of it, and she certainly hadn’t expected to be offered her old job back, albeit in a different team. Is that what she truly wanted? To return to the hustle and bustle of London and the excessively long hours expected by her employers?

However, all these anxiety-inducing questions and dilemmas paled into insignificance when she was faced with the full extent of the deception that Dan and Amanda’s visit – and her subsequent conversation with Nick – had exposed.

Nick Harper wasn’t who she thought he was.