Your Secret's Safe With Me Page 11

  ‘Sorry. Completely forgot. Left bike at work. Don’t suppose you could come and fetch me?’

  ‘Where are you?’ I hoped he was at Jolly Jack Tar or The Ship, as both were relatively close.

  ‘Rum Runners in Portdeane.’

  Portdeane? Freddy hadn’t just gone for a drink straight from work, he’d gone for a swim across the river. How else could he have got there if he’d left his scooter at the marina? I’d had one glass of wine whilst I chopped mushrooms to go with the pasta. I was perfectly capable of driving, but it was seriously tempting to tell Freddy to forget the whole come-over-for-a-chat-and-meal thing and leave him to make his own way back to Kerridge. He was probably already plastered.

  I’d only viewed Portdeane from across the river. It had an extensive waterfront of boatsheds, workshops, and offices. It was a busy place compared to Kerridge. Cursing Freddy’s thoughtlessness, I headed out to the car. Portdeane wasn’t easy to reach by road. The bridge over the River Deane, a mile or so further upstream, had been built during the last century and was currently under repair, and had been for some time, according to Jack. Traffic lights controlled the flow. Portdeane was also in the middle of a house-building boom, resulting in even more traffic controls and numerous mini-roundabouts. It was over half an hour before I pulled up on the quayside

  I fought my way through a fug of smokers outside The Rum Runners. Unlike The Ship’s regular clientele, the majority of this pub’s customers were on the right side of twenty-five. I had to squeeze my way through a noisy throng of youthful bodies to a long table where I spotted Freddy, with his back towards me, his distinctive bleached blond head in very close proximity to another young blonde head.

  He sat next to Kimmi, the nubile teenage paddle-boarder we had encountered on the marina. They shared their table with several others, some standing, while a middle-aged shaven-headed man held court. As the pub was so packed, my entrance had been pretty inconspicuous. I tapped Freddy on the shoulder.

  ‘Hey look, Fred,’ one of his new mates chuckled as Freddy turned around. ‘Your mum’s come for you. Is it past your bedtime?’

  This seemed pretty rich from a boy who looked barely old enough to drink. I recognised him as one of the lads who worked on the marina.

  ‘She’s not my mum,’ Freddy drawled, giving me a drunken smile. ‘Sorry, Becs, I forgot the time.’

  ‘No worries,’ I assured him. ‘You ready to go?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ Freddy drowned the last of his beer.

  The shaven man stopped mid-sentence. His voice was heavily accented; mid- European, Dutch or German maybe. ‘Are you leaving us, Freddy?’

  ‘Ah yeah, sorry Max,’ Freddy apologised. ‘Got to go home. My sister’s cooking me a meal.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame.’

  ‘What’s a shame?’ I asked. ‘My cooking, or the fact that you are losing one of your audience?’

  He laughed and stood up. He was well over six foot and made an imposing figure. ‘I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.’ He held out his hand. ‘Max van der Plaast.’

  The name rang a bell. This was Kerridge’s only eligible bachelor – apart from birdwatcher Alex, who didn’t count. Max wasn’t bad-looking, in a bulky, muscular sort of way. His eyes were a very clear shade of blue and they assessed me, from top to bottom. A diamond glistened in one ear, while his bare arms were covered with tattoos. His t-shirt and jeans were Armani and Hugo Boss. The watch on his wrist a very large Rolex.

  ‘Becca Gates,’ I replied as my fingers crushed under grip. ‘I’m Freddy’s sister.’

  ‘Ah, so you are also staying with the Robshaws.’ Max smiled. He slapped Freddy on the back. ‘See you again soon, Freddy, my boy.’

  ‘Cheers, Max,’ Freddy replied, ‘and thanks for the ride over.’

  ‘Any time.’

  ‘Bye, Kimmi,’ Freddy said a little awkwardly to the paddle-boarder, but she had already turned her attention to one of the other youths on the table.

  ‘You should see that guy’s boat,’ Freddy exclaimed as he flopped into the passenger seat of my car. ‘It’s like enormous, it’s got three bedrooms, proper size you know, flat screen TV, big lounge area, kitchen—’

  ‘So that’s how you got across the water, then? I thought you might have swum.’

  ‘No, I mean yeah. We didn’t come over on Pegasus, we came over on his rib. Max is a mate of JJ’s. He was on the marina and he offered to take us out for a spin.’

  ‘Great, glad you enjoyed it. The pasta will be a bit congealed.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I couldn’t really say no, could I? Not when everyone was else was going.’

  ‘Of course not, Fred. I’m glad you’ve made some new friends. So, who’s the girl?’

  ‘What girl?’

  ‘Oh, don’t be stupid. The paddle-boarder.’

  ‘Kimmi is Max’s daughter. She’s staying with him up at his house in Helme. The place is massive, apparently, even bigger than Rivermede. He’s got a gym, a games room, private cinema, pool.’

  ‘Have you been there?’

  ‘No, not yet, that’s just what the lads say.’

  ‘You need to be careful, Freddy,’ I said. I didn’t want to sound like I was putting a dampener on his fledgling new friendships, but Freddy had other responsibilities to be thinking of. ‘You should be concentrating on your job right now and saving some money. I’m not sure running around after Kimmi is a good thing.’

  ‘I’m not running around after Kimmi,’ Freddy replied. ‘In any case, it’s to my advantage to stay on the right side of Max. The lads say he is often on the lookout for extra crew, and he pays a lot better than JJ, apparently.’

  ‘Crew? You mean on his boat?’

  ‘Yeah, why not?’

  ‘I think you should just stick to working on dry land, Freddy.’

  ‘Oh, it wouldn’t be full-time. It’s just every now and then. Anyway, you’ll be pleased to hear I’m having lessons on the forklift next week. Once I’ve got my licence, I can start working on the mobile cranes.’

  ‘Cranes?’ That was even more alarming than the thought of Freddy setting sail. I wasn’t sure Freddy should be left in charge of anything mechanical, not for his own welfare but the safety of others. ‘It all sounds highly dangerous.’

  He didn’t answer. By the time we reached Rivermede, Freddy was asleep.

  On Sunday morning, I enjoyed making my own breakfast and then, as watery sunshine broke through the black clouds, I decided to head out for a walk.

  I knew from my first brief tour of Rivermede’s grounds with Pearl that there was a gate with access to the foreshore. I had a vague idea that if I could walk along the river, in the opposite direction to The Ship of Fools, I would eventually come to the marina and subsequently the marsh at Helme Point, alleviating the need to head up through the centre of the village. I was in my wellington boots, however it soon became quite clear the route was impassable without thigh-high waders.

  It was high tide, and a fast-flowing inlet cut through the Rivermede estate. I continued for a little while, hoping that perhaps I would encounter a footbridge or at least a point at which the creek would be crossable. Instead, it carried on into the woodland by JJ’s new house. Just as I was about to turn back, I heard a faint swishing on the water, and the sound of oars.

  It was Nev, paddling furiously in a canoe, a rhythmic grunt accompanying each stroke, his eyes fixed on the water ahead. JJ may have given up rowing, but it certainly looked as if Nev was on a fitness campaign. I hesitated, wondering if I should call out a greeting. Nev and I were on polite hello and good morning terms, not matey bellows. I didn’t want to disturb his concentration, so I shrank back into the trees. For some reason I couldn’t quite define, I didn’t want an encounter, so instead of continuing on my walk, I turned around and walked back to the house.

  Pearl demanded my company for elevenses and we spent a pleasant enough hour discussing wedding bouquets, corsages, and button-holes. I managed to remain remarka
bly calm throughout. As she had already decided on the designs, it was easier not to express any opinion. I promised to visit the dressmaker in Portdeane by the end of the week for the bridesmaid dress fitting – something I admitted I had been putting off.

  ‘Just ask Vera to make the dress a centimetre smaller in every direction,’ Pearl advised. ‘That’ll give you the incentive to lose that extra weight.’

  It was less than six weeks now to the wedding, and the invitations had gone out. There was accommodation to organise for overnight guests and a seating plan. I offered to draw up a spreadsheet, but to my surprise Pearl flipped open her brand-new laptop. She was already on the case.

  She seemed disappointed when I mentioned that I would be entertaining Freddy for Sunday dinner and neither of us would be joining her and Jack that evening.

  ‘But Heather does such a lovely roast,’ she pouted. ‘I’ve already told her to prepare a meal for four.’

  I promised to pop into the kitchen on my way back to the stable block and amend the catering arrangements.

  Freddy was late again, this time because JJ, not to be outdone by his friend Max, had apparently been showing off in his Aqua Riva.

  ‘Is that his flashy new car?’ I asked, offering Freddy a beer which he took gratefully. He hadn’t changed out of his marina uniform – it was still disconcerting to see my brother dressed in another colour other than black, and especially shorts. Freddy hadn’t worn shorts since he’d left nursery school.

  ‘Car?’ This sent Freddy into fits to laughter. ‘It’s a boat, you dummy. They cost about half a million squid.’

  ‘Oh.’ No wonder JJ was in financial difficulties. ‘Is it the same sort of thing as Max’s van der Plaast’s fancy yacht?’

  Freddy shook his head and sank onto the sofa. ‘No, Pegasus is a catamaran. An Aqua Riva is a speedboat. Pearl would love it. It’s the sort of thing James Bond would have had back in the sixties, you know when Sean Connery was playing him. Vintage Italian design, handcrafted mahogany with maple inlay deck, leather seating, two 370 hp engines. Apparently, sometimes he lets the lads have a turn at the wheel. I’d love to have a go.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful,’ I remarked, having no idea what he was talking about. Freddy seemed to have soaked up nautical terms like a sponge. I asked him whether he knew Nev was a keen canoeist.

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve hardly seen Nev since I arrived,’ he replied. ‘He and Jack always seem to be out, but I suppose if you do like your water sports, this is the place to be.’

  ‘I wanted to see if I could walk to Helme Point along the river this morning, but I couldn’t see a way across the creek,’ I continued. ‘How far up does it go?’

  ‘Just to JJ’s boathouse.’

  ‘Is that where he keeps this Aqua River thing?’ I asked, wondering if that was why JJ had insisted the boathouse was off-limits. He wouldn’t want me anywhere near his fancy speedboat.

  ‘Aqua Riva.’ Freddy rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘No, he keeps that in a secure berth at the marina. I’m starving, by the way. When’s the food going to be ready? I hope you’ve prepared something nice. Heather does a lovely Sunday dinner. Last week she made a nut roast just for me, and her potatoes were out of this world.’

  It was tempting to tell him Heather’s lovely homemade nut roast was more than likely an M&S ready meal and the potatoes were out of this world because they were smeared with delicious goose fat, but I kept quiet. Freddy seemed a little disappointed in the butternut squash risotto I’d lovingly prepared – previously one of his favourites – and after dinner refused to be drawn into any sort of conversation about Ruby, apart from admitting that he had let her know he’d left London. At half nine, he made his excuses and wandered back over to the main house via the kitchen door – hopeful, I suspected, at picking over the remains of the Sunday roast.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I spent most of Monday working on Stella’s memoirs. After lunch, I headed into IKEA in Southampton to buy a few brightly coloured accessories for the tiny kitchen and bathroom.

  I didn’t return until late afternoon. When I pulled up on the drive, Pearl came flying out of the house as if she had been standing guard.

  ‘Where have you been? I thought you might have forgotten.’

  ‘Forgotten what?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s Monday, isn’t it?’ She stabbed me in the chest with an accusing finger. ‘Quiz night at the pub. Go and get your thinking cap on. Chrissie and Craig need you. She phoned up earlier to remind you.’

  I had my doubts Chrissie had phoned at all; more likely, Pearl had been the one making the call. I knew my mother well. She would be watching out of the window at 6.50pm to ensure I’d left, knocking on my door at 6.55 if she spotted the car still on the drive. Tomorrow morning, she would be bombarding me with questions about my team mate Alex. And if I didn’t go, but simply got in the car and spent the evening hiding out in the Rum Runners in Portdeane, which was actually quite tempting, I’d be fending off the same barrage of questions without having anyone to validate my attendance at The Ship of Fools. I didn’t doubt she would double-check with Chrissie.

  If I went, I could perhaps glean some further knowledge about JJ from Nick. I could also report back that Alex was totally unsuitable marriage material, fabricating a plausible excuse that he was an out-of-work railway engineer (because anyone who worked for Network Rail was the lowest of the low as far as Pearl was concerned) with two former wives and six children. It might just work.

  As it was, there was no need for any subterfuge and I felt a strange sense of disappointment to see that Nick wasn’t even at the pub. Instead, Chrissie and Craig were joined by the M&Ms – fellow twitchers Mark and Marie – just back from a bird-watching expedition to the South Atlantic and the Antarctic. After brief introductions, Marie spent several minutes expanding on the mating habits of the Adelie Penguin – precocious birds with homosexual tendencies and not beyond a spot of necrophilia, if the fancy took them. At which point, I made a casual attempt to drop Alex’s name into conversation. Craig had seen him out on the marsh the previous week, but there was no mention of why he was absent.

  ‘I’m sure Stella said he’s got a six-month lease on her boat,’ Chrissie consoled. ‘I expect he’ll be along next week as usual.’

  The evening passed pretty dismally. I was able to catch Stella during the break and we made an arrangement to meet up the following week for an update on the book project.

  At least I was keeping busy. On Tuesday morning, I received an email from Anita with the good news that she was in negotiations with a major trade union leader who wished to write his autobiography.

  ‘It’s going to need an awful lot of editing,’ she wrote. ‘Are you interested?’

  I couldn’t think of anything less interesting, but I couldn’t afford to turn down work, although it did prompt me to place an ad for my editorial and proofreading services in one of the leading creative writing magazines. It would be good to have choices.

  Freddy called into the flat on his way home from work to announce that we’d both been invited to Kimmi’s 18th birthday party at the van der Plaast mansion in two weeks’ time.

  ‘Max was most insistent you come,’ he said. Perhaps eligible spinsters in Kerridge were as rare as the eligible bachelors, although I couldn’t imagine a man like Max – I’d Googled him: Dutch; forty-six; divorced, twice; son of the multi-millionaire founder of van der Plaast Marine Engine Services, a major international company with offices in Rotterdam, Marseilles, Stockholm, and Portdeane – would have any trouble attracting female companions.

  I had nothing suitable to wear to a house-party hosted by a millionaire, so I spent the rest of the evening looking at cocktail dresses on the internet.

  I managed to postpone an inquisition from Pearl until Wednesday morning, when she suggested coffee. She was in a state of great agitation.

  ‘Jack’s up to something,’ she announced as we sat down in the conservatory. Heather had alre
ady set up the ubiquitous tea tray. I wondered if Pearl would ever venture into a kitchen again.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Pearl frowned. ‘He just seems a bit different here to how he was on holiday.’

  ‘Well, that’s understandable,’ I assured her. Was Pearl having doubts? It wasn’t too late to call off the wedding. We could all return safely to London, Pearl could start writing again…

  I quashed such traitorous thoughts. As much as I wanted us all out of harm’s way, I didn’t want my old co-dependent lifestyle back. And in any case, it was impossible. Beech Mews was sold; I’d handed the keys over to Magda Pepowski myself.

  ‘Why are you worried?’ I asked her.

  ‘I’m not worried,’ Pearl insisted, ‘it’s just, well, you know, he’s less attentive.’

  ‘There’s little else to do on a cruise ship but talk to each other, is there?’ I reminded her. ‘Here, Jack presumably still has some business interests to keep his eye on.’

  ‘JJ takes care of all that,’ Pearl replied.

  But not very efficiently, by all accounts. I was quite sure Jack was keeping tabs on JJ. Not that I could confess my eavesdropping to Pearl, but it wouldn’t hurt to carry out a little detective work of my own. I did want to hear what was at the route of her concerns.

  ‘Do you think Jack is keeping something from you?’ I asked.

  Pearl gave a shrug. ‘I’m not sure. I suppose you’re right, people are always different when they’re in their own home. We both have to adjust to living together.’

  ‘He does look after you, doesn’t he?’ From what I’d seen so far, Jack behaved impeccably towards my mother, but what if that charming veneer was all for show? Was he a different person altogether behind closed doors?

  ‘Yes, of course he does. It’s nothing like that all.’ Pearl seemed quite indignant.

  ‘Well then, what is it? You had that nice day out at the races, didn’t you?’