Excerpt from A Very English Affair
Chapter 1 Danielle
Danielle looked at her watch and gasped. Uh-oh! Owen would never forgive her this time. Once in a week was understandable. Twice, forgivable—since she was the agency owner and had certain responsibilities—but three times…no way.
In quick succession, she shut down her computer, put her dirty coffee cup into the sink in the tiny office kitchen and shrugged into her coat. After checking the rear door was locked, she primed the alarm, turned off the lights and stepped outside onto the wet pavement. If she drove fast, she would make it home in less than ten minutes.
Her brain worked overtime as she went through various excuses: flat battery, a pedantic last-minute customer, lost her car keys. It was no use; she had used them all over the previous six months. Owen wasn’t going to believe one word. She sighed.
She knew it wasn’t completely her fault. She was an organised person. It was just that things had taken off that year, and more business meant more work. Sure, four months ago she had taken on Jane as a full-time member of staff, and her part-timer, Bryony, had increased her own hours, but sometimes there was far more work than they could manage in a ten-hour, let alone eight-hour, day.
That night was meant to have been special. Owen was celebrating his fortieth birthday. He had been quite adamant. ‘No big noisy party, thank you. Being forty is bad enough without having it rubbed in,’ he had complained. So, Danielle had booked an intimate dinner for two in his favourite restaurant, and she was treating them to the best seats at a London theatre the following evening. The trip to the show was a secret; all Owen knew was that he was being taken to see something he had always wanted to see. He would love it.
Danielle edged her car onto the main road and groaned. The entire high street was blocked with traffic. Through her steamed-up windows she heard the wail of an ambulance in the distance and guessed the obstruction was the result of an accident. She nosed the car into the queue of vehicles and while she waited, searched in her bag for her phone. Owen just had to believe her this time.
***
“Darling, I’m home. You’ll never believe the carnage in the high street. Four cars were involved in the pile-up. It took two fire engines to free the passengers. Owen? Are you there?” She threw her car keys down on the hall table, noticing Owen’s front-door keys lying there, and she wondered where he had got to. She removed her damp coat and hung it over the bannister, shaking raindrops from her long dark hair. With a small sigh of pleasure, she eased off her high heels and then walked in stockinged feet to the living room. All the lights were on, but there was no sign of her fiancé.
Surprised, she peeked into the kitchen and dining room, which doubled as a study, and finding them both empty, ran upstairs. Maybe Owen was in the shower and hadn’t heard her get in. When she reached the threshold of her bedroom, she paused. The doors to the fitted wardrobes were open, as were the drawers Owen used for his t-shirts and underwear. An odd sock lay on the carpet, and the bedside locker on his side of the king-size bed was bare. Danielle felt her blood run cold as she headed towards the chest of drawers.
They were completely empty. She whirled away and rushed over to the tall wardrobes and flung the doors wide. A row of empty coat hangers swung above her head, silently mocking her as they rocked and tinkled against each other. Gone, gone, gone! The thought ran through her head. He’s gone!
Danielle felt her legs go weak and, trembling, edged her way over to the bed. Their bed. She couldn’t believe it. Where had he gone and why? A lone tear trickled down her cheek, and in irritation, she brushed it away as she laid her head on her pillow.
She knew she had become something of a workaholic during the previous months and out of necessity spent more than usual work hours at the travel agency. But her business was her baby, and she was proud of how she had built it up from practically nothing after buying it at a peppercorn price.
Eighteen months earlier, Ruth, the then owner of Wanderlust Travel, had met the man of her dreams. Rich and recently widowed, ‘Silver’ entered her life when he booked a three-month cruise. Over the following few weeks, Ruth and Silver spent a lot of time together, heads down while they explored timetables and travel books, discussing the trip and further destinations. Danielle wasn’t completely surprised when Ruth announced one foul, wet morning that Silver had asked her to become the third Mrs Silver Fox. Chatting excitedly about her engagement, she paused long enough to offer Danielle Collingdale the opportunity to buy the agency, and she jumped at the chance.
It seemed Danielle was to pay the price for working hard. Once again, she was alone.
Chapter 2 Danielle
She lay on the bed thinking about what had gone wrong and how she could have prevented Owen leaving. Of course, they had the usual arguments from time to time, but then who didn’t? It was all part of two people living together. Owen had said time and time again that he understood how she felt about building up the business, even encouraging and praising her over the previous weeks.
Danielle recalled when, three months earlier, she had gone home and in dizzy excitement told him how much the turnover had increased. It was he who insisted they open a bottle of fizz. But not champagne; she didn’t think they should be spending too much of her money just yet, she insisted.
They drank the proscecco, the bubbles gently tickling her nose, and she remembered how they laughed and danced a silly little jig in her living room, ending up in a smooch and making love on the floor. She had never felt so cherished and desired as she had then. How little she had known him. She remembered that night’s dinner reservation…she had to find the energy to telephone the restaurant and cancel.
She stretched out an arm and pulled his pillow to her face, breathing in his familiar man smell. Oh Owen, what went wrong? She felt more tears prickle behind her lashes, and within seconds, she gave in to heartfelt sobs.
Exhausted by her crying, Danielle eventually fell into a deep sleep. She awoke hours later, stiff and cold; the pillow she clutched was damp against her cheek and a weak, rain-streaked morning light was creeping through a chink in the curtains. She sat up, throwing the sodden thing to the floor, suddenly hating the thought of Owen invading her thoughts and space. On impulse, she sprang from the bed and in minutes, had stripped it of linen and threw the whole lot into the washing machine.
That night she would sleep in fresh bedding. She didn’t want to lie in a bed which still bore the tell-tale scent of that rat, Owen, next to her. What sort of man left without saying a word? Worm, more like, and she was made of stronger stuff.
After remaking the bed, she strode from the bedroom into the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. She couldn’t face food. She walked over to the rain-slicked window and gazed at the road. The heavy downpour overnight had eased to a fine drizzle, and a few gaps had appeared in the dark clouds.
She turned away from the dank morning and walked through to the living room. She realised Owen hadn’t taken all his belongings. He had left a magazine or two here and there, a spine-broken paperback, a bottle of expensive aftershave she had bought him and photographs of their last holiday in Crete together. As she gathered everything together into an empty cardboard box, she realised the items were things which obviously meant nothing to him. She felt like setting fire to the box and its contents but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. Instead, she pushed them into the deepest and darkest corner of the cupboard under the stairs. She would get rid of it all later.
She still couldn’t believe Owen had left. When she first met him, she believed him to be honest and loving, and learnt to trust him almost immediately. For the first time, she thought he was the one. Curses! Now here she was in her mid-thirties, single and alone again. Love was a bugger!
And not just alone without a boyfriend; Danielle was completely alone in the world. She had no family and few real friends. Friends had come and gone—Owen hadn’t liked many of them. The nearest she had to a friend now was Bryony from the agency. Bryony would be very sympathetic, but her other assistant, Jane, had only been with her four months, and she was a bit of a cold fish.
She glanced at the clock and saw it was still early. She suddenly realised she didn’t need to think about Owen and his feelings any longer and decided to go to work and clear some of the backlog on her desk. One good thing had come out of it: her time was now all her own. Time for a shower, and then she would walk into town.
Danielle stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror and leaned forward. She caught sight of one or two grey hairs in her long dark hair and a tiny sprinkle of fine lines in the corner of her eyes if she looked really closely. She turned sideways. Her bottom was small and firm, her tummy fairly flat—could have been flatter, but she was a woman. Her breasts were average-sized and hadn’t yet drooped. She didn’t think she looked bad for her age. Okay, so her dark-blue eyes were still a tad red and puffy from crying, but a brisk walk in the fresh air would soon cure that.
***
Because it was Saturday, the agency was only open for business in the morning. Danielle spent a good hour sorting out paperwork before she heard the front door open and glancing up, saw Bryony.
Fresh air followed her friend in, accompanied by a few damp leaves, which blew in from the street.
“Morning. You’re in early. Owen thrown you out of bed then?” she asked with a smile. “Would you like coffee now or later? It’s a bit parky out there.”
“I have a lot to do and coffee now, please—the kettle’s just boiled.”
Danielle bit her lip, lowering her gaze back to her computer. She didn’t notice Bryony’s inquisitive stare at the lack of her usual eye make-up and lipstick. She carried on with her task, listening to Bryony’s movements in the kitchen out the back.
“Jane’s late,” Bryony observed as she handed a steaming mug of coffee to her. “She does know you’re leaving early this morning, doesn’t she? By the way, I bought us a doughnut each as a treat today. I’ll just get them.”
Danielle started. She had forgotten she and Owen were supposed to be going up to London before lunchtime. Lunch, a walk round town and then on to the theatre. She decided to enlighten Bryony then and there and get it over with. As soon as Bryony returned and sat down, Danielle told her.
“Well, I’m flabbergasted. I’m so sorry, and I feel dreadful now after making that stupid remark when I came in. If I’d known…” Bryony looked distressed.
“What remark? Oh, that. Don’t worry, you weren’t to know. Anyway, I’m okay really. It just takes a bit of getting used to. I never thought I’d be free and available again, but I’m not going to let it get me down. Men are not worth it.” Even if Danielle didn’t have much confidence in her own words, she was determined to have a damn good try.
Bryony gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, if there’s anything I can do, please just ask. I haven’t got much on this weekend. Are you sure you don’t want your doughnut? It’s a shame to waste it.”
“That’s good, as I’ve got a couple of theatre tickets going begging. They’re yours, and no, I don’t want anything for them. My…” she pulled a cynical face, “my treat.” They chatted for a few more minutes while they drank their coffee, skirting the subject of Owen, and Bryony tucked in to her jammy bun. After she had finished, she studied the clock on the wall.
“You know, I believe Jane’s forgotten she was supposed to be here this morning. Shall I ring her and find out what’s keeping her?”
Danielle shrugged, not caring one way or the other. “If you like, but she’s not needed at the moment, as it’s quiet.”
“Yeah, but she’s got to clear that load of this week’s files on her desk. I don’t see why we should do it all. I’ll just give her a quick call at home. Get the lazy cow out of bed.”
Danielle raised her eyebrows. She had guessed earlier that Bryony didn’t much care for Jane. She cleared away the empty cups in the kitchen while Bryony made the phone call. When Danielle re-entered the shop, carrying a pile of cruise brochures, Bryony replaced the receiver and looked down at her desk with an odd expression on her face.
“So what’s her excuse?” Danielle asked as she restocked the shelves along the wall with the glossy catalogues. When Bryony didn’t answer she turned to face her. “Well?”
Bryony’s face turned pale, and she raised a hand to her mouth. “Um, I think you’d better sit down.”
Danielle ignored Bryony’s warning and remained standing, a handful of brochures still in her hands. “Why? Is Jane okay? She’s not ill is she?” She felt herself go cold all over. “Oh no! There was a nasty accident in the high street last night. She wasn’t involved was she?”
Bryony shook her head.
“What then?”
“I don’t know how to say this. I rang her mobile, and it was unobtainable, so I tried her home number, which is her mum’s house, apparently. Only Jane wasn’t there because she moved out this week. She and her boyfriend have bought a new flat together, so her mother told me.” Bryony flushed bright red.
“Really? She never mentioned any of this to me. Had she forgotten she’s meant to be working?”
Bryony shook her head. “I never got that far. Danielle, I think you should know who her…her boyfriend is.”
It was Danielle’s turn to gasp before blanching. Unnoticed, the brochures slipped from her fingers. “Owen and Jane! Bought a flat…but he doesn’t have any money,” she said without thinking.
***
Danielle was relieved she had left her car at home that morning. A brisk half-hour walk back home would help blow away the cobwebs. After Bryony’s bombshell, work was the last thing she wanted to do. She made a snap decision and had given her friend the rest of the morning off and left the agency soon after. The strong gusts buffeted her along the road, but she enjoyed the stinging wind against her face. It helped wake her up and lose some of the lethargy which threatened to envelop her.
As she turned the corner, she caught sight of her little house, and a familiar warm feeling crept through her. Thank goodness she owned the property and Owen had never paid a penny towards the mortgage. He might have taken away her pride for the time being, but he couldn’t take her house.
She recalled him mentioning getting something bigger and more suitable once they were married, but when she dug her heels in and refused to think about increasing her mortgage, they had quarrelled. Perhaps things hadn’t been the same between them ever since that day. Come to think of it, Owen had rarely put his hand in his pocket for anything much. He always seemed to be owed money elsewhere or had already spent his monthly income.
Anyway, the little Victorian house belonged to her and no one else. Danielle reached the front door and let herself in, picking up a couple of letters which were lying on the mat in front of the door. She glanced at the envelopes; they both looked like bills. Hardly what you could call exciting post. She would open them later.
Chapter 3 Dominic
Dominic stood at the helm of the forty-four-foot-long racing yacht. Although the day’s sail was supposed to be a social cruise and not a competition with medals at stake, two boats made a race! He glanced up at the mainsail and then the huge multi-coloured spinnaker billowing out in front. The light headsail was of a new cross-cut design and was proving to be unbeatable on downwind legs. A rogue wave rose on the aft starboard quarter and dumped a few gallons of seawater overboard. Dominic grinned at his younger brother, Christian, who yelped in surprise at his soaking.
“You might have warned me,” he complained with a wide smile. His white teeth contrasted with the Caribbean tan he had picked up the previous couple of weeks spent in Antigua.
Dominic just laughed and turned the wheel slightly as the wind changed. The yacht slammed into a trough and then rose like a cork as she climbed the face of the next wave before it curled and crested over.
“Tide’s on the change. The sky’s looking ominous,” he said, indicating the dark clouds gathering overhead.
Christian followed his gaze. “Just as well we’ve finished. Still want to visit Cowes for a drink or shall we head straight home? “
Dominic pushed back the sleeve on his water-proof jacket and glanced down at his watch. “How about a quick one? We can go alongside Minerva and invite Ross and his crew on board and then head back in to our berth. It’ll only add another couple of hours to get across to Hamble. It would be a shame to miss seeing him.”
“Fine by me, only I really don’t want to be late tonight. I’ve got an early-morning conference call booked tomorrow, which I don’t want to miss. There’s a lot at stake.”
“Course not. It’s not every day a multi-million-pound deal lands in your lap. One way or another, you’re certainly the golden boy of the moment, Christian, and lapping up every moment of it.”
Christian pulled a face and threw a playful punch at his brother’s shoulder. “You’re just jealous. Nobody voted for you. You’re old and past it, big bro!” he jeered.
“No way! At least I still get to call my time my own. I’m not quite as wedded to the business as you are. As for being old, I can still knock spots off you downhill on skis or when it comes to running a marathon.” Dominic adjusted course while he spoke, never taking his eyes from the scene before him.
They were having one of their usual light-hearted exchanges. Although Christian was the younger of the two Douglas brothers, it was he who was the entrepreneur of the family. At school, Christian had sailed through examinations and left Southampton University with a first-class honours degree in ship science mechanical engineering. It hadn’t taken him long to decide what he wanted out of life: be a successful businessman and make a lot of money. Christian’s main love was sailing, and it seemed right that he should progress into yacht architecture and design. At thirty-six he was one of the youngest and most sought-after yacht designers in the world. It helped that the boys’ father was a wealthy man during his lifetime and left both brothers a substantial amount of money when he died. Christian invested wisely. He bought into a struggling yacht-building company, which needed capital and yacht-design expertise. Within two years, he had a majority holding, and a further three years saw him as overall owner of Platinum Yachts.
Christian’s life hadn’t all been easy. He had spent so many years dedicating himself to study, designing and building up the business that he had let his personal life slide. He had never had a truly long-lasting relationship with the woman of his dreams—or indeed any woman—and at times he felt he was surrounded by nothing but empty space. His lifestyle was brought home to him only a few days earlier, when he was voted onto the most eligible-bachelor-in-Britain list, much to Dominic’s wicked sense of humour. He hadn’t stopped ragging his ‘baby’ brother since.
Dominic, on the other hand, prided on being his own man. Not as clever academically as his younger sibling, Dominic left school with five GCSEs, all above grade D, and two A-levels in English and Maths. These were all the requirements he needed to get into Royal Naval Officer Training at the Britannia Royal Naval College in Dartmouth. Dominic proved to be an exemplary sailor, with a love of sailing and most outdoor activities. After spending sixteen years as a naval officer, he decided he wanted more freedom, make his own choices. He knew the only solution was to leave the Navy and find outside employment before he became too institutionalised.
He left the senior service and joined Christian at Platinum Yachts—initially as a temporary measure until he felt certain which path was the right one for him. He wasn’t anything like his brother when it came to pushing work to the limit, although he was by no means idle. Dominic’s attitude was more relaxed. He enjoyed working with Christian and appreciated his brother giving him free rein when it came to fitting out, selling and delivering the new yachts. Christian was the architect and owner of the company. Dominic was more of a hands-on manager.
The transitory arrangement worked well, and Dominic was glad. They had always been close. The agreement allowed him time to think about what he really wanted out of life and what his next step should be.
As the yacht neared the Cowes entrance, Christian’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the display and called out to Dominic that the caller was their friend, Ross. Both men looked across the water and saw Minerva was already bearing away and heading for her berth up the Medina River on the Isle of Wight. Christian answered the call, and Dominic strained over the rising sound of the wind to hear what he had to say. After Christian had replaced the phone in his pocket, Dominic yelled to him.
“What was that all about?”
“Ross says they’ve developed a problem with their rudder and need to get in before the weather turns. They can manage the boat, but he wants someone to take a look as soon as they’re tied up. He says he’ll catch up with us in the week.”
Dominic grunted and switched his attention back to the sea. The waves were getting bigger and the sea more choppy as the wind rose. He saw that the anemometer showed twenty-seven knots of wind. It had shot up, but it was often the way in the Solent. The tides ran fiercely around the north of the island, and conditions often changed in a matter of minutes.
“It’s just as well…the weather’s turning. Perhaps I should have headed for home earlier. Time to get the headsail down. We don’t want to tear it. Can you get Rob back up here? And I think we should get our life jackets on, pronto. It’s only going to get worse.”
He referred to the third member of the crew, who had been below for twenty minutes. Ever since they had left Yarmouth, Rob had been stricken with a stomach upset and had confined himself to the heads.
A wave hit the bow, and spray flew high and wide as Christian went forward to loosen a rope which had wound itself round a midship cleat. Meanwhile, a pale-faced Rob dealt with the other two sheets holding the headsail in position. As Dominic turned the yacht’s wheel, the sail lost the wind, and Rob began lowering the collapsed canvas. The bag which contained the sail was strapped down on the forward deck, and Christian eased it along the side deck ready for bagging.
“I don’t think we’ve time to do that. Christian, secure the sail to the guardrails. We can bag it when we get in,” Dominic yelled.
His brother turned and shouted back, “It’s fine, it won’t take a minute.” He got down on all fours and began pushing the sodden nylon sail into its bag.
Irritated, Dominic turned to Rob. “Go and give my stubborn brother a hand, will you. Four hands will be quicker than two.”
Although the weather was deteriorating, all three men had been out in far worse. Dominic looked at the wind gauge. It showed thirty-two knots of wind—a near gale—and it had reached its strength in under an hour. Things were going to get very bumpy as they approached Brambles Sandbank, an arrowhead-shaped sandbar in the central Solent, famous for its twice-yearly cricket match at very low tides.
Knowing the sandbank had slowly moved westward over the years, Dominic made sure they kept well clear of the West Knoll buoy. The whole area was a significant navigational hazard, and he didn’t want their yacht to run aground like the Cunard liner, Queen Elizabeth 2, had in November 2008, on her last visit prior to retirement. There must have been some red faces on the bridge that early morning when she required four tugs to pull her clear on the rising tide.
Dominic adjusted their course slightly to port and kept one eye on their progress and the other on Christian and Rob’s efforts on the foredeck. He noted that Christian was right. They had stuffed the sail in the bag and were now dragging it back towards the stern, ready for stowage.
“Well done,” he said, after they had dropped it in the aft locker.
“Want me to take over at the helm, or shall I put the kettle on?” Christian asked, as he stood up and slicked his salty wet hair back from his face.
“I’m fine here. Go and get dry. A cuppa sounds great.”
Christian crossed the aft deck and climbed into the cockpit. As he moved towards the companionway which led down into the saloon below, Rob followed suit.
A sudden change in noise alerted Dominic, who turned his head and watched as a monstrous wave gathered speed and came hurtling towards the side of the yacht.
“Watch out!” he yelled as it crashed into them. He spun the wheel towards the wave, as he didn’t want the crushing weight of water broaching or capsizing the yacht.
Rob twisted round and yelped in fright while hastily clipping his lifeline onto a safety ring at the same time. Christian made a grab for the handrail as the force of water hit the boat, missed his hold and fell headfirst down the ladder.
“Jesus! Christian!” gasped Rob. Dominic battled to bring the yacht back on course.
Rob climbed down after Christian, leaving Dominic alone on deck. He looked around him, checking there were no other shocks about to rain down on them. The sky had turned an extraordinary shade of pewter grey, with streaks of yellow protruding from behind thick clouds. The sea state looked confused and turbulent. It was impossible to determine which way the tide was running. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it like that in the Solent.
Rob’s scared face appeared at the top of the companionway ladder. “Dom. It’s Christian. He’s out cold. He hit his head, there’s blood everywhere and—”
Dominic cursed. “You know where the first-aid box is. Can you get it and then come up here and take over the helm?”
Rob nodded. “Yeah, of course, but there’s something else. He’s broken his leg.”
Chapter 4 Christian
It was nearly three months before Christian fully regained consciousness. Dominic filled him in on everything he deemed his younger brother would have considered important. Christian felt numb with loss. He had been away from his business and everything that mattered to him for over two months!
Dominic regarded his brother with a calm face as he listened to him complaining that Platinum Yachts would need constant attention to get it back to what it was three months earlier.
“Calm down, Christian. We haven’t actually lost the deal you were working on before your accident. Certainly not to another company, anyway. The customer has put everything on hold for six months to raise more share capital. If and when you’re well enough, you can restart talks with them in the autumn.”
“Sorry. But you’ve no idea how shitty I feel. To wake up and find that you’ve lost nearly three months of your life and that your business is in jeopardy…to say nothing of how lousy I feel. Look at the state of me.” He held up his arms for inspection and sighed. “Skin and bone, and as for my legs, my muscles are non-existent!”
Dominic laughed. “Stop being a wimp, baby brother. As I’ve explained, the company’s fine, and once you start exercising, you’ll soon get your muscle tone back. Working out a strict routine for you will be a doddle.” He pulled a fierce face and then sat back in his visitor’s chair, grinning at his brother’s expression.
Christian considered Dominic’s words and looked contrite. “You’re right, of course. Sorry. It’s just the shock. I’m still getting to grips with what happened. It’s not every day you wake up and be told you’ve suffered a compound fracture to one leg and twisted your pelvis. Then, adding salt to the wound—no pun intended before you snigger—that I’ve damaged my right kidney and lost nearly three months of my life. It’s bloody unbelievable. All I can remember is you shouting on the boat and me grabbing the rail but missing it when the wave hit the side. After that, it’s all a blank, except for a few fuzzy odd moments, until I woke up properly in here.”
“At least you know you can walk, even if you do need a stick. The physiotherapist said there’s no reason why you can’t get rid of that in a few weeks.”
Christian nodded but said nothing. He hadn’t told Dominic about the extreme discomfort in his back or about the excruciating pains in his pelvis every time he put pressure on his leg. Thank heaven for the painkillers. His surgeon explained that some of it was normal and expected after such a nasty fracture and that the pain would ease with time and gentle exercise.
“Don’t get me wrong, Dom,” he said. “I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done while I’ve been laid up in here. You’re the best of brothers. And these last few days, after everything’s finally sunk in, I realise how thankful I am to be alive. I could have died if it hadn’t been for your quick thinking.”
He was referring to Dominic’s snap decision to call out the air-sea rescue services. Once Dominic handed the wheel of the yacht over to Rob and examined his brother’s injuries, he knew they wouldn’t be able to save his life. Apart from being unconscious, Christian had blood oozing from one ear and a visible head wound. Plus, his right leg was very obviously broken. Within minutes of the accident, Dominic had organised a helicopter to pluck Christian from the yacht and fly him safely and swiftly to Southampton hospital.
Dominic looked embarrassed and glanced at his watch. In a gruff voice, he said, “That’s what families are for, and you and I are all that’s left now Mum and Dad have gone. I have to get going now, as I’ve a few things to do. I’ll have a quick word with the sister on my way out and see if she has any news about your discharge. The sooner you get home and back to your normal surroundings the better, even if you don’t get back to work right away. I’ll call in tomorrow and bring you some clean pyjamas.”
***
Five days later, Christian was discharged, and as he sat on the side of his bed, waiting for Dominic to pick him up, he was in two minds. He wanted desperately to get out of the place, even if it was the best private hospital in the area. The care and attention had been wonderful, but there was no place quite like home.
On the other hand, the thought of being on his own and managing everyday things made him panicky. What if he couldn’t cope? Christian had never married, neither was there anyone special in his life. His last girlfriend had been more casual than serious, and she hadn’t even called in to see him. He shrugged. It was ironic really. Even though Dominic had joked about Christian being a highly eligible bachelor, there wasn’t one female around for whom he really cared.
He stood up and using his stick, walked over to the window. The view was pleasant; the room overlooked the hospital gardens, and he took pleasure in watching a line of young trees sway in the light breeze that morning. Spring was definitely on the way, judging by the clumps of daffodils and the odd brightly coloured tulip in the flower beds.
He switched his thoughts back to his company. Despite what he and Dominic had discussed earlier, Christian wasn’t ready to get back to work full-time. In his absence, Dominic had run the company exactly as he would have wanted. He hadn’t changed anything, and apart from the delayed multi-million-pound deal, they had kept every ongoing contract. The business future was looking rosy.
But Christian felt unsettled. Since gaining consciousness, he had undergone a strange shift in outlook. He bore this desperate urge to live, not immerse himself in business. He realised there was a lot missing in his life, and he wanted to make changes, alter his attitude, even if his recovery took time. Although his bones had knitted together, he still felt pain in his back and head. Time was a great healer, they said. Christian determined he would take advantage and use his time more wisely. He was young, rich and successful, but how many opportunities had he missed? Which friends had he ignored over the years as he climbed that ladder to victory? Apart from Dominic, he knew few people he could trust. He had lost so much, all in the name of his career.
A sense of relief washed over him as he leaned on his stick and stood gazing at the peaceful garden. He still had plenty of time to make those changes. Thank God he had realised in time just how fragile and precious life really was.
Chapter 5 Christian
Everything felt strange to Christian as he stared from the car window. He could remember the route from the hospital to the village of Hamble where he lived and the cobbled street leading down to the river’s edge, which Dominic insisted on taking, although they could have taken a more direct way.
“You’ll want to see the river and the moored boats,” Dominic had said, his eyes full of laughter. “I know you’ve missed the scene.” They drove slowly past familiar pubs and restaurants and finally stopped outside Christian’s much-loved white-washed cottage overlooking the neat village green. “Welcome home.”
Christian got out of the car and limped up the path to the front door, while Dominic fetched his case from the car boot. Christian fingered the key in his pocket as he stood on the step. After taking a deep breath, he fitted the key into the lock on his front door and opened the door wide. A familiar smell blasted him, and he hesitated as a small tremor passed through him. He was home.
***
“So, now that you’re finally home, how about we go out for a meal tonight? The Bugle’s got a new menu, as well as some of our favourites.”
Christian took another measured look round his house before shaking his head. “Don’t think I’m ungrateful, but I’m feeling tired, and you know what? I’d rather just spend the night in. I planned on taking a nice long soak in the tub and having an early night.”
Dominic grinned. “There’s nothing like your own bed, is there? That’s fine by me. I rather thought you’d find everything tiring after being cooped up indoors for all but three months. Listen, your freezer’s stacked up with lots of grub you’re fond of…plenty of ready-made meals if you don’t feel like preparing anything, and you’ve already seen what I’ve put in your fridge.”
“I know…I won’t starve. You’ll make someone a good wife one day, Dom,” Christian said with a laugh. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me, and I meant what I said in the car earlier.”
Dominic instantly sobered. “It’s a very generous offer. Don’t think I’m not grateful, but I’m not sure I deserve it.”
Christian interrupted his brother with a wave of his hand. “Rubbish. I should have done it ages ago, when you first joined me in the business. I can’t think why I didn’t…probably because you didn’t know your own mind after you left the Navy. Anyway, full partnership from now on, bro.” He held out his hand to cement the offer, and Dominic stepped forward.
Without answering, Christian ignored his outstretched arm. He pulled him close and gave him a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he muttered over his shoulder, then as if embarrassed by his action stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Seven all right with you? I’ll bring Max, if you don’t mind. I’m sure he’s been pining to see you. Can’t think why!”
“Good idea, we can take him for a walk along the river.”
After Dominic had gone, Christian took another slow wander round his house, touching things he had missed, sitting in his favourite chair and drinking from his favourite mug. He knew he had to lay off booze, at least until he was off his painkillers. Once he felt fit and well again, he would open up his house and throw a huge party. Well, a party anyway; he had no idea how many people would attend, as he had lost touch with so many.
Christian wandered upstairs to unpack his suitcase. As he emptied his toilet bag and put his toothbrush away, he was suddenly gripped by a violent pain in his leg. He gasped and grabbed hold of the washbasin for support. The pain went as soon as it had struck, much to his relief, and he resumed his unpacking. The attack startled him somewhat. Although Christian regularly felt an ache around the site of the break in his right leg, the stabbing pain was more in the region of the knee joint. It was the first time he had experienced anything like it. Hopefully, it was a one-off; he certainly wouldn’t want a repetition.
The rest of the day passed peacefully. He experienced no more excruciating leg pain and found he was enjoying just pottering around the place. He defrosted a portion of a lamb rogan josh and cooked some rice. Then, after a long deep bath, fell into bed. For the first time since regaining consciousness, he slept like a baby.
God, but it was good to be home.
***
The following morning dawned fresh and beautiful. As soon as the sun crept over the windowsill in his bedroom, Christian opened his eyes, and he lay relaxed and daydreaming beneath the duvet. Lying in bed doing nothing was a luxury he rarely allowed himself. It came as a bit of a bombshell, knowing that, as he planned on taking at least a few more weeks off before returning to work, it was something he could afford to do every day.
He laughed and threw back the covers. He might not have been working for the immediate future, but he sure wasn’t going to waste time. There was a beautiful world out there waiting to be discovered and enjoyed.
After washing and dressing in a pair of dark-blue jeans and polo shirt, he grabbed a jacket from the wardrobe and decided to take a stroll into the village. He left his house and headed down the hill towards the river and felt the springtime sun caress his face and bare hands, warming his back and shoulders. If it hadn’t been for his walking stick and aches and pains, he could have almost imagined he was back to normal.
He rounded the corner in the lane, and ahead was a sight which never failed to lift his spirits. As far as the eye could see, from left to right, the Hamble River was wall to wall with sailing and motor yachts of all sizes. Despite his accident—he knew it had been just that: an accident—in no way had it marred his love of sailing and the sea.
He paused by the waterfront and watched a wooden yacht motor past down towards Southampton water and the open sea. He could see a youngish man at the helm and another about the same age standing on the side deck gathering in fenders. One man was dark-haired and the other blond. He could well have been looking at mirror images of Dominic and himself. He was dark-haired and of slight build; Dominic was blond and taller.
Thinking of his brother gave him a warm feeling. He truly wanted them to have equal shares in his business. Being ill had brought it home to him the hard way.
As he wasn’t married and had no heirs, who else but Dominic should inherit? And what better way than to make him a partner now? When Dominic had left the Navy, he had been undecided about what he wanted to do. He enjoyed Navy life but felt he needed a change before he became institutionalised, and after years of taking and giving orders, he fancied being his own boss. Christian had recently lost his manager to an overseas company, and Dominic drifted into the job on a temporary basis. Except that, he enjoyed it so much and the two brothers got on so well, he had stayed.
Christian sucked in the sea air and listened to the tinkle of halyards on metal masts before he carried on with his walk. He felt a bit stiff but thought he could make it into a circuit. He passed the newsagents and then on impulse stopped and turned around. He hadn’t read a newspaper in two days, and as he was now back home, he had plenty of time on his hands for a copy of the Telegraph and the local one. After paying for the papers, he bought a takeaway coffee and Danish from the café next door and decided it was pleasant enough a day to sit and read in the sun on one of the benches near the water.
Christian read the headlines in the Telegraph and eventually reached the entertainment section. His glance slid down the lists of plays and musicals being staged in London, and he realised it had been months since he had visited either a theatre or cinema. An advert for War Horse in London caught his eye, and he wondered what was playing locally in either Portsmouth or Southampton. He reckoned he could drive the short distance to either town with no trouble.
He turned to the local paper and idly flicked through the pages. As he scanned down one page, he noticed an advertisement for cruises in the Caribbean. He ignored the advertisement, thinking such voyages were only for old people and was about to move on when an article and photo above the advert caught his attention. Christian smoothed the page out on his lap and read through the article. But it wasn’t that which really caught his eye. The photo was of a young woman. Christian studied her face: pretty with wide-spaced eyes, a small neat nose and long, dark, wavy hair. He couldn’t tell how tall she was, but she looked slim.
Christian switched his attention back to the article which was about cruising for all ages and especially those new to the idea. A cruise: he had never thought about taking one. He recalled his parents had been fans when they were alive and had regularly taken trips all over the world, but he had been more interested in sail than motor.
He folded the paper in two and was about to stand up and leave, when instead, he reopened the tabloid and found his eyes drawn back to the newspaper and the woman’s smile. It was absurd. She had the most arresting gaze he had ever seen. He felt almost ridiculous as he stared, but somehow he just knew their lives were bound up in some way. He had to meet her.
Amazon.com Amazon.co.uk Nook Kobo Apple
Danielle looked at her watch and gasped. Uh-oh! Owen would never forgive her this time. Once in a week was understandable. Twice, forgivable—since she was the agency owner and had certain responsibilities—but three times…no way.
In quick succession, she shut down her computer, put her dirty coffee cup into the sink in the tiny office kitchen and shrugged into her coat. After checking the rear door was locked, she primed the alarm, turned off the lights and stepped outside onto the wet pavement. If she drove fast, she would make it home in less than ten minutes.
Her brain worked overtime as she went through various excuses: flat battery, a pedantic last-minute customer, lost her car keys. It was no use; she had used them all over the previous six months. Owen wasn’t going to believe one word. She sighed.
She knew it wasn’t completely her fault. She was an organised person. It was just that things had taken off that year, and more business meant more work. Sure, four months ago she had taken on Jane as a full-time member of staff, and her part-timer, Bryony, had increased her own hours, but sometimes there was far more work than they could manage in a ten-hour, let alone eight-hour, day.
That night was meant to have been special. Owen was celebrating his fortieth birthday. He had been quite adamant. ‘No big noisy party, thank you. Being forty is bad enough without having it rubbed in,’ he had complained. So, Danielle had booked an intimate dinner for two in his favourite restaurant, and she was treating them to the best seats at a London theatre the following evening. The trip to the show was a secret; all Owen knew was that he was being taken to see something he had always wanted to see. He would love it.
Danielle edged her car onto the main road and groaned. The entire high street was blocked with traffic. Through her steamed-up windows she heard the wail of an ambulance in the distance and guessed the obstruction was the result of an accident. She nosed the car into the queue of vehicles and while she waited, searched in her bag for her phone. Owen just had to believe her this time.
***
“Darling, I’m home. You’ll never believe the carnage in the high street. Four cars were involved in the pile-up. It took two fire engines to free the passengers. Owen? Are you there?” She threw her car keys down on the hall table, noticing Owen’s front-door keys lying there, and she wondered where he had got to. She removed her damp coat and hung it over the bannister, shaking raindrops from her long dark hair. With a small sigh of pleasure, she eased off her high heels and then walked in stockinged feet to the living room. All the lights were on, but there was no sign of her fiancé.
Surprised, she peeked into the kitchen and dining room, which doubled as a study, and finding them both empty, ran upstairs. Maybe Owen was in the shower and hadn’t heard her get in. When she reached the threshold of her bedroom, she paused. The doors to the fitted wardrobes were open, as were the drawers Owen used for his t-shirts and underwear. An odd sock lay on the carpet, and the bedside locker on his side of the king-size bed was bare. Danielle felt her blood run cold as she headed towards the chest of drawers.
They were completely empty. She whirled away and rushed over to the tall wardrobes and flung the doors wide. A row of empty coat hangers swung above her head, silently mocking her as they rocked and tinkled against each other. Gone, gone, gone! The thought ran through her head. He’s gone!
Danielle felt her legs go weak and, trembling, edged her way over to the bed. Their bed. She couldn’t believe it. Where had he gone and why? A lone tear trickled down her cheek, and in irritation, she brushed it away as she laid her head on her pillow.
She knew she had become something of a workaholic during the previous months and out of necessity spent more than usual work hours at the travel agency. But her business was her baby, and she was proud of how she had built it up from practically nothing after buying it at a peppercorn price.
Eighteen months earlier, Ruth, the then owner of Wanderlust Travel, had met the man of her dreams. Rich and recently widowed, ‘Silver’ entered her life when he booked a three-month cruise. Over the following few weeks, Ruth and Silver spent a lot of time together, heads down while they explored timetables and travel books, discussing the trip and further destinations. Danielle wasn’t completely surprised when Ruth announced one foul, wet morning that Silver had asked her to become the third Mrs Silver Fox. Chatting excitedly about her engagement, she paused long enough to offer Danielle Collingdale the opportunity to buy the agency, and she jumped at the chance.
It seemed Danielle was to pay the price for working hard. Once again, she was alone.
Chapter 2 Danielle
She lay on the bed thinking about what had gone wrong and how she could have prevented Owen leaving. Of course, they had the usual arguments from time to time, but then who didn’t? It was all part of two people living together. Owen had said time and time again that he understood how she felt about building up the business, even encouraging and praising her over the previous weeks.
Danielle recalled when, three months earlier, she had gone home and in dizzy excitement told him how much the turnover had increased. It was he who insisted they open a bottle of fizz. But not champagne; she didn’t think they should be spending too much of her money just yet, she insisted.
They drank the proscecco, the bubbles gently tickling her nose, and she remembered how they laughed and danced a silly little jig in her living room, ending up in a smooch and making love on the floor. She had never felt so cherished and desired as she had then. How little she had known him. She remembered that night’s dinner reservation…she had to find the energy to telephone the restaurant and cancel.
She stretched out an arm and pulled his pillow to her face, breathing in his familiar man smell. Oh Owen, what went wrong? She felt more tears prickle behind her lashes, and within seconds, she gave in to heartfelt sobs.
Exhausted by her crying, Danielle eventually fell into a deep sleep. She awoke hours later, stiff and cold; the pillow she clutched was damp against her cheek and a weak, rain-streaked morning light was creeping through a chink in the curtains. She sat up, throwing the sodden thing to the floor, suddenly hating the thought of Owen invading her thoughts and space. On impulse, she sprang from the bed and in minutes, had stripped it of linen and threw the whole lot into the washing machine.
That night she would sleep in fresh bedding. She didn’t want to lie in a bed which still bore the tell-tale scent of that rat, Owen, next to her. What sort of man left without saying a word? Worm, more like, and she was made of stronger stuff.
After remaking the bed, she strode from the bedroom into the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. She couldn’t face food. She walked over to the rain-slicked window and gazed at the road. The heavy downpour overnight had eased to a fine drizzle, and a few gaps had appeared in the dark clouds.
She turned away from the dank morning and walked through to the living room. She realised Owen hadn’t taken all his belongings. He had left a magazine or two here and there, a spine-broken paperback, a bottle of expensive aftershave she had bought him and photographs of their last holiday in Crete together. As she gathered everything together into an empty cardboard box, she realised the items were things which obviously meant nothing to him. She felt like setting fire to the box and its contents but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. Instead, she pushed them into the deepest and darkest corner of the cupboard under the stairs. She would get rid of it all later.
She still couldn’t believe Owen had left. When she first met him, she believed him to be honest and loving, and learnt to trust him almost immediately. For the first time, she thought he was the one. Curses! Now here she was in her mid-thirties, single and alone again. Love was a bugger!
And not just alone without a boyfriend; Danielle was completely alone in the world. She had no family and few real friends. Friends had come and gone—Owen hadn’t liked many of them. The nearest she had to a friend now was Bryony from the agency. Bryony would be very sympathetic, but her other assistant, Jane, had only been with her four months, and she was a bit of a cold fish.
She glanced at the clock and saw it was still early. She suddenly realised she didn’t need to think about Owen and his feelings any longer and decided to go to work and clear some of the backlog on her desk. One good thing had come out of it: her time was now all her own. Time for a shower, and then she would walk into town.
Danielle stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror and leaned forward. She caught sight of one or two grey hairs in her long dark hair and a tiny sprinkle of fine lines in the corner of her eyes if she looked really closely. She turned sideways. Her bottom was small and firm, her tummy fairly flat—could have been flatter, but she was a woman. Her breasts were average-sized and hadn’t yet drooped. She didn’t think she looked bad for her age. Okay, so her dark-blue eyes were still a tad red and puffy from crying, but a brisk walk in the fresh air would soon cure that.
***
Because it was Saturday, the agency was only open for business in the morning. Danielle spent a good hour sorting out paperwork before she heard the front door open and glancing up, saw Bryony.
Fresh air followed her friend in, accompanied by a few damp leaves, which blew in from the street.
“Morning. You’re in early. Owen thrown you out of bed then?” she asked with a smile. “Would you like coffee now or later? It’s a bit parky out there.”
“I have a lot to do and coffee now, please—the kettle’s just boiled.”
Danielle bit her lip, lowering her gaze back to her computer. She didn’t notice Bryony’s inquisitive stare at the lack of her usual eye make-up and lipstick. She carried on with her task, listening to Bryony’s movements in the kitchen out the back.
“Jane’s late,” Bryony observed as she handed a steaming mug of coffee to her. “She does know you’re leaving early this morning, doesn’t she? By the way, I bought us a doughnut each as a treat today. I’ll just get them.”
Danielle started. She had forgotten she and Owen were supposed to be going up to London before lunchtime. Lunch, a walk round town and then on to the theatre. She decided to enlighten Bryony then and there and get it over with. As soon as Bryony returned and sat down, Danielle told her.
“Well, I’m flabbergasted. I’m so sorry, and I feel dreadful now after making that stupid remark when I came in. If I’d known…” Bryony looked distressed.
“What remark? Oh, that. Don’t worry, you weren’t to know. Anyway, I’m okay really. It just takes a bit of getting used to. I never thought I’d be free and available again, but I’m not going to let it get me down. Men are not worth it.” Even if Danielle didn’t have much confidence in her own words, she was determined to have a damn good try.
Bryony gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, if there’s anything I can do, please just ask. I haven’t got much on this weekend. Are you sure you don’t want your doughnut? It’s a shame to waste it.”
“That’s good, as I’ve got a couple of theatre tickets going begging. They’re yours, and no, I don’t want anything for them. My…” she pulled a cynical face, “my treat.” They chatted for a few more minutes while they drank their coffee, skirting the subject of Owen, and Bryony tucked in to her jammy bun. After she had finished, she studied the clock on the wall.
“You know, I believe Jane’s forgotten she was supposed to be here this morning. Shall I ring her and find out what’s keeping her?”
Danielle shrugged, not caring one way or the other. “If you like, but she’s not needed at the moment, as it’s quiet.”
“Yeah, but she’s got to clear that load of this week’s files on her desk. I don’t see why we should do it all. I’ll just give her a quick call at home. Get the lazy cow out of bed.”
Danielle raised her eyebrows. She had guessed earlier that Bryony didn’t much care for Jane. She cleared away the empty cups in the kitchen while Bryony made the phone call. When Danielle re-entered the shop, carrying a pile of cruise brochures, Bryony replaced the receiver and looked down at her desk with an odd expression on her face.
“So what’s her excuse?” Danielle asked as she restocked the shelves along the wall with the glossy catalogues. When Bryony didn’t answer she turned to face her. “Well?”
Bryony’s face turned pale, and she raised a hand to her mouth. “Um, I think you’d better sit down.”
Danielle ignored Bryony’s warning and remained standing, a handful of brochures still in her hands. “Why? Is Jane okay? She’s not ill is she?” She felt herself go cold all over. “Oh no! There was a nasty accident in the high street last night. She wasn’t involved was she?”
Bryony shook her head.
“What then?”
“I don’t know how to say this. I rang her mobile, and it was unobtainable, so I tried her home number, which is her mum’s house, apparently. Only Jane wasn’t there because she moved out this week. She and her boyfriend have bought a new flat together, so her mother told me.” Bryony flushed bright red.
“Really? She never mentioned any of this to me. Had she forgotten she’s meant to be working?”
Bryony shook her head. “I never got that far. Danielle, I think you should know who her…her boyfriend is.”
It was Danielle’s turn to gasp before blanching. Unnoticed, the brochures slipped from her fingers. “Owen and Jane! Bought a flat…but he doesn’t have any money,” she said without thinking.
***
Danielle was relieved she had left her car at home that morning. A brisk half-hour walk back home would help blow away the cobwebs. After Bryony’s bombshell, work was the last thing she wanted to do. She made a snap decision and had given her friend the rest of the morning off and left the agency soon after. The strong gusts buffeted her along the road, but she enjoyed the stinging wind against her face. It helped wake her up and lose some of the lethargy which threatened to envelop her.
As she turned the corner, she caught sight of her little house, and a familiar warm feeling crept through her. Thank goodness she owned the property and Owen had never paid a penny towards the mortgage. He might have taken away her pride for the time being, but he couldn’t take her house.
She recalled him mentioning getting something bigger and more suitable once they were married, but when she dug her heels in and refused to think about increasing her mortgage, they had quarrelled. Perhaps things hadn’t been the same between them ever since that day. Come to think of it, Owen had rarely put his hand in his pocket for anything much. He always seemed to be owed money elsewhere or had already spent his monthly income.
Anyway, the little Victorian house belonged to her and no one else. Danielle reached the front door and let herself in, picking up a couple of letters which were lying on the mat in front of the door. She glanced at the envelopes; they both looked like bills. Hardly what you could call exciting post. She would open them later.
Chapter 3 Dominic
Dominic stood at the helm of the forty-four-foot-long racing yacht. Although the day’s sail was supposed to be a social cruise and not a competition with medals at stake, two boats made a race! He glanced up at the mainsail and then the huge multi-coloured spinnaker billowing out in front. The light headsail was of a new cross-cut design and was proving to be unbeatable on downwind legs. A rogue wave rose on the aft starboard quarter and dumped a few gallons of seawater overboard. Dominic grinned at his younger brother, Christian, who yelped in surprise at his soaking.
“You might have warned me,” he complained with a wide smile. His white teeth contrasted with the Caribbean tan he had picked up the previous couple of weeks spent in Antigua.
Dominic just laughed and turned the wheel slightly as the wind changed. The yacht slammed into a trough and then rose like a cork as she climbed the face of the next wave before it curled and crested over.
“Tide’s on the change. The sky’s looking ominous,” he said, indicating the dark clouds gathering overhead.
Christian followed his gaze. “Just as well we’ve finished. Still want to visit Cowes for a drink or shall we head straight home? “
Dominic pushed back the sleeve on his water-proof jacket and glanced down at his watch. “How about a quick one? We can go alongside Minerva and invite Ross and his crew on board and then head back in to our berth. It’ll only add another couple of hours to get across to Hamble. It would be a shame to miss seeing him.”
“Fine by me, only I really don’t want to be late tonight. I’ve got an early-morning conference call booked tomorrow, which I don’t want to miss. There’s a lot at stake.”
“Course not. It’s not every day a multi-million-pound deal lands in your lap. One way or another, you’re certainly the golden boy of the moment, Christian, and lapping up every moment of it.”
Christian pulled a face and threw a playful punch at his brother’s shoulder. “You’re just jealous. Nobody voted for you. You’re old and past it, big bro!” he jeered.
“No way! At least I still get to call my time my own. I’m not quite as wedded to the business as you are. As for being old, I can still knock spots off you downhill on skis or when it comes to running a marathon.” Dominic adjusted course while he spoke, never taking his eyes from the scene before him.
They were having one of their usual light-hearted exchanges. Although Christian was the younger of the two Douglas brothers, it was he who was the entrepreneur of the family. At school, Christian had sailed through examinations and left Southampton University with a first-class honours degree in ship science mechanical engineering. It hadn’t taken him long to decide what he wanted out of life: be a successful businessman and make a lot of money. Christian’s main love was sailing, and it seemed right that he should progress into yacht architecture and design. At thirty-six he was one of the youngest and most sought-after yacht designers in the world. It helped that the boys’ father was a wealthy man during his lifetime and left both brothers a substantial amount of money when he died. Christian invested wisely. He bought into a struggling yacht-building company, which needed capital and yacht-design expertise. Within two years, he had a majority holding, and a further three years saw him as overall owner of Platinum Yachts.
Christian’s life hadn’t all been easy. He had spent so many years dedicating himself to study, designing and building up the business that he had let his personal life slide. He had never had a truly long-lasting relationship with the woman of his dreams—or indeed any woman—and at times he felt he was surrounded by nothing but empty space. His lifestyle was brought home to him only a few days earlier, when he was voted onto the most eligible-bachelor-in-Britain list, much to Dominic’s wicked sense of humour. He hadn’t stopped ragging his ‘baby’ brother since.
Dominic, on the other hand, prided on being his own man. Not as clever academically as his younger sibling, Dominic left school with five GCSEs, all above grade D, and two A-levels in English and Maths. These were all the requirements he needed to get into Royal Naval Officer Training at the Britannia Royal Naval College in Dartmouth. Dominic proved to be an exemplary sailor, with a love of sailing and most outdoor activities. After spending sixteen years as a naval officer, he decided he wanted more freedom, make his own choices. He knew the only solution was to leave the Navy and find outside employment before he became too institutionalised.
He left the senior service and joined Christian at Platinum Yachts—initially as a temporary measure until he felt certain which path was the right one for him. He wasn’t anything like his brother when it came to pushing work to the limit, although he was by no means idle. Dominic’s attitude was more relaxed. He enjoyed working with Christian and appreciated his brother giving him free rein when it came to fitting out, selling and delivering the new yachts. Christian was the architect and owner of the company. Dominic was more of a hands-on manager.
The transitory arrangement worked well, and Dominic was glad. They had always been close. The agreement allowed him time to think about what he really wanted out of life and what his next step should be.
As the yacht neared the Cowes entrance, Christian’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the display and called out to Dominic that the caller was their friend, Ross. Both men looked across the water and saw Minerva was already bearing away and heading for her berth up the Medina River on the Isle of Wight. Christian answered the call, and Dominic strained over the rising sound of the wind to hear what he had to say. After Christian had replaced the phone in his pocket, Dominic yelled to him.
“What was that all about?”
“Ross says they’ve developed a problem with their rudder and need to get in before the weather turns. They can manage the boat, but he wants someone to take a look as soon as they’re tied up. He says he’ll catch up with us in the week.”
Dominic grunted and switched his attention back to the sea. The waves were getting bigger and the sea more choppy as the wind rose. He saw that the anemometer showed twenty-seven knots of wind. It had shot up, but it was often the way in the Solent. The tides ran fiercely around the north of the island, and conditions often changed in a matter of minutes.
“It’s just as well…the weather’s turning. Perhaps I should have headed for home earlier. Time to get the headsail down. We don’t want to tear it. Can you get Rob back up here? And I think we should get our life jackets on, pronto. It’s only going to get worse.”
He referred to the third member of the crew, who had been below for twenty minutes. Ever since they had left Yarmouth, Rob had been stricken with a stomach upset and had confined himself to the heads.
A wave hit the bow, and spray flew high and wide as Christian went forward to loosen a rope which had wound itself round a midship cleat. Meanwhile, a pale-faced Rob dealt with the other two sheets holding the headsail in position. As Dominic turned the yacht’s wheel, the sail lost the wind, and Rob began lowering the collapsed canvas. The bag which contained the sail was strapped down on the forward deck, and Christian eased it along the side deck ready for bagging.
“I don’t think we’ve time to do that. Christian, secure the sail to the guardrails. We can bag it when we get in,” Dominic yelled.
His brother turned and shouted back, “It’s fine, it won’t take a minute.” He got down on all fours and began pushing the sodden nylon sail into its bag.
Irritated, Dominic turned to Rob. “Go and give my stubborn brother a hand, will you. Four hands will be quicker than two.”
Although the weather was deteriorating, all three men had been out in far worse. Dominic looked at the wind gauge. It showed thirty-two knots of wind—a near gale—and it had reached its strength in under an hour. Things were going to get very bumpy as they approached Brambles Sandbank, an arrowhead-shaped sandbar in the central Solent, famous for its twice-yearly cricket match at very low tides.
Knowing the sandbank had slowly moved westward over the years, Dominic made sure they kept well clear of the West Knoll buoy. The whole area was a significant navigational hazard, and he didn’t want their yacht to run aground like the Cunard liner, Queen Elizabeth 2, had in November 2008, on her last visit prior to retirement. There must have been some red faces on the bridge that early morning when she required four tugs to pull her clear on the rising tide.
Dominic adjusted their course slightly to port and kept one eye on their progress and the other on Christian and Rob’s efforts on the foredeck. He noted that Christian was right. They had stuffed the sail in the bag and were now dragging it back towards the stern, ready for stowage.
“Well done,” he said, after they had dropped it in the aft locker.
“Want me to take over at the helm, or shall I put the kettle on?” Christian asked, as he stood up and slicked his salty wet hair back from his face.
“I’m fine here. Go and get dry. A cuppa sounds great.”
Christian crossed the aft deck and climbed into the cockpit. As he moved towards the companionway which led down into the saloon below, Rob followed suit.
A sudden change in noise alerted Dominic, who turned his head and watched as a monstrous wave gathered speed and came hurtling towards the side of the yacht.
“Watch out!” he yelled as it crashed into them. He spun the wheel towards the wave, as he didn’t want the crushing weight of water broaching or capsizing the yacht.
Rob twisted round and yelped in fright while hastily clipping his lifeline onto a safety ring at the same time. Christian made a grab for the handrail as the force of water hit the boat, missed his hold and fell headfirst down the ladder.
“Jesus! Christian!” gasped Rob. Dominic battled to bring the yacht back on course.
Rob climbed down after Christian, leaving Dominic alone on deck. He looked around him, checking there were no other shocks about to rain down on them. The sky had turned an extraordinary shade of pewter grey, with streaks of yellow protruding from behind thick clouds. The sea state looked confused and turbulent. It was impossible to determine which way the tide was running. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it like that in the Solent.
Rob’s scared face appeared at the top of the companionway ladder. “Dom. It’s Christian. He’s out cold. He hit his head, there’s blood everywhere and—”
Dominic cursed. “You know where the first-aid box is. Can you get it and then come up here and take over the helm?”
Rob nodded. “Yeah, of course, but there’s something else. He’s broken his leg.”
Chapter 4 Christian
It was nearly three months before Christian fully regained consciousness. Dominic filled him in on everything he deemed his younger brother would have considered important. Christian felt numb with loss. He had been away from his business and everything that mattered to him for over two months!
Dominic regarded his brother with a calm face as he listened to him complaining that Platinum Yachts would need constant attention to get it back to what it was three months earlier.
“Calm down, Christian. We haven’t actually lost the deal you were working on before your accident. Certainly not to another company, anyway. The customer has put everything on hold for six months to raise more share capital. If and when you’re well enough, you can restart talks with them in the autumn.”
“Sorry. But you’ve no idea how shitty I feel. To wake up and find that you’ve lost nearly three months of your life and that your business is in jeopardy…to say nothing of how lousy I feel. Look at the state of me.” He held up his arms for inspection and sighed. “Skin and bone, and as for my legs, my muscles are non-existent!”
Dominic laughed. “Stop being a wimp, baby brother. As I’ve explained, the company’s fine, and once you start exercising, you’ll soon get your muscle tone back. Working out a strict routine for you will be a doddle.” He pulled a fierce face and then sat back in his visitor’s chair, grinning at his brother’s expression.
Christian considered Dominic’s words and looked contrite. “You’re right, of course. Sorry. It’s just the shock. I’m still getting to grips with what happened. It’s not every day you wake up and be told you’ve suffered a compound fracture to one leg and twisted your pelvis. Then, adding salt to the wound—no pun intended before you snigger—that I’ve damaged my right kidney and lost nearly three months of my life. It’s bloody unbelievable. All I can remember is you shouting on the boat and me grabbing the rail but missing it when the wave hit the side. After that, it’s all a blank, except for a few fuzzy odd moments, until I woke up properly in here.”
“At least you know you can walk, even if you do need a stick. The physiotherapist said there’s no reason why you can’t get rid of that in a few weeks.”
Christian nodded but said nothing. He hadn’t told Dominic about the extreme discomfort in his back or about the excruciating pains in his pelvis every time he put pressure on his leg. Thank heaven for the painkillers. His surgeon explained that some of it was normal and expected after such a nasty fracture and that the pain would ease with time and gentle exercise.
“Don’t get me wrong, Dom,” he said. “I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done while I’ve been laid up in here. You’re the best of brothers. And these last few days, after everything’s finally sunk in, I realise how thankful I am to be alive. I could have died if it hadn’t been for your quick thinking.”
He was referring to Dominic’s snap decision to call out the air-sea rescue services. Once Dominic handed the wheel of the yacht over to Rob and examined his brother’s injuries, he knew they wouldn’t be able to save his life. Apart from being unconscious, Christian had blood oozing from one ear and a visible head wound. Plus, his right leg was very obviously broken. Within minutes of the accident, Dominic had organised a helicopter to pluck Christian from the yacht and fly him safely and swiftly to Southampton hospital.
Dominic looked embarrassed and glanced at his watch. In a gruff voice, he said, “That’s what families are for, and you and I are all that’s left now Mum and Dad have gone. I have to get going now, as I’ve a few things to do. I’ll have a quick word with the sister on my way out and see if she has any news about your discharge. The sooner you get home and back to your normal surroundings the better, even if you don’t get back to work right away. I’ll call in tomorrow and bring you some clean pyjamas.”
***
Five days later, Christian was discharged, and as he sat on the side of his bed, waiting for Dominic to pick him up, he was in two minds. He wanted desperately to get out of the place, even if it was the best private hospital in the area. The care and attention had been wonderful, but there was no place quite like home.
On the other hand, the thought of being on his own and managing everyday things made him panicky. What if he couldn’t cope? Christian had never married, neither was there anyone special in his life. His last girlfriend had been more casual than serious, and she hadn’t even called in to see him. He shrugged. It was ironic really. Even though Dominic had joked about Christian being a highly eligible bachelor, there wasn’t one female around for whom he really cared.
He stood up and using his stick, walked over to the window. The view was pleasant; the room overlooked the hospital gardens, and he took pleasure in watching a line of young trees sway in the light breeze that morning. Spring was definitely on the way, judging by the clumps of daffodils and the odd brightly coloured tulip in the flower beds.
He switched his thoughts back to his company. Despite what he and Dominic had discussed earlier, Christian wasn’t ready to get back to work full-time. In his absence, Dominic had run the company exactly as he would have wanted. He hadn’t changed anything, and apart from the delayed multi-million-pound deal, they had kept every ongoing contract. The business future was looking rosy.
But Christian felt unsettled. Since gaining consciousness, he had undergone a strange shift in outlook. He bore this desperate urge to live, not immerse himself in business. He realised there was a lot missing in his life, and he wanted to make changes, alter his attitude, even if his recovery took time. Although his bones had knitted together, he still felt pain in his back and head. Time was a great healer, they said. Christian determined he would take advantage and use his time more wisely. He was young, rich and successful, but how many opportunities had he missed? Which friends had he ignored over the years as he climbed that ladder to victory? Apart from Dominic, he knew few people he could trust. He had lost so much, all in the name of his career.
A sense of relief washed over him as he leaned on his stick and stood gazing at the peaceful garden. He still had plenty of time to make those changes. Thank God he had realised in time just how fragile and precious life really was.
Chapter 5 Christian
Everything felt strange to Christian as he stared from the car window. He could remember the route from the hospital to the village of Hamble where he lived and the cobbled street leading down to the river’s edge, which Dominic insisted on taking, although they could have taken a more direct way.
“You’ll want to see the river and the moored boats,” Dominic had said, his eyes full of laughter. “I know you’ve missed the scene.” They drove slowly past familiar pubs and restaurants and finally stopped outside Christian’s much-loved white-washed cottage overlooking the neat village green. “Welcome home.”
Christian got out of the car and limped up the path to the front door, while Dominic fetched his case from the car boot. Christian fingered the key in his pocket as he stood on the step. After taking a deep breath, he fitted the key into the lock on his front door and opened the door wide. A familiar smell blasted him, and he hesitated as a small tremor passed through him. He was home.
***
“So, now that you’re finally home, how about we go out for a meal tonight? The Bugle’s got a new menu, as well as some of our favourites.”
Christian took another measured look round his house before shaking his head. “Don’t think I’m ungrateful, but I’m feeling tired, and you know what? I’d rather just spend the night in. I planned on taking a nice long soak in the tub and having an early night.”
Dominic grinned. “There’s nothing like your own bed, is there? That’s fine by me. I rather thought you’d find everything tiring after being cooped up indoors for all but three months. Listen, your freezer’s stacked up with lots of grub you’re fond of…plenty of ready-made meals if you don’t feel like preparing anything, and you’ve already seen what I’ve put in your fridge.”
“I know…I won’t starve. You’ll make someone a good wife one day, Dom,” Christian said with a laugh. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me, and I meant what I said in the car earlier.”
Dominic instantly sobered. “It’s a very generous offer. Don’t think I’m not grateful, but I’m not sure I deserve it.”
Christian interrupted his brother with a wave of his hand. “Rubbish. I should have done it ages ago, when you first joined me in the business. I can’t think why I didn’t…probably because you didn’t know your own mind after you left the Navy. Anyway, full partnership from now on, bro.” He held out his hand to cement the offer, and Dominic stepped forward.
Without answering, Christian ignored his outstretched arm. He pulled him close and gave him a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he muttered over his shoulder, then as if embarrassed by his action stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Seven all right with you? I’ll bring Max, if you don’t mind. I’m sure he’s been pining to see you. Can’t think why!”
“Good idea, we can take him for a walk along the river.”
After Dominic had gone, Christian took another slow wander round his house, touching things he had missed, sitting in his favourite chair and drinking from his favourite mug. He knew he had to lay off booze, at least until he was off his painkillers. Once he felt fit and well again, he would open up his house and throw a huge party. Well, a party anyway; he had no idea how many people would attend, as he had lost touch with so many.
Christian wandered upstairs to unpack his suitcase. As he emptied his toilet bag and put his toothbrush away, he was suddenly gripped by a violent pain in his leg. He gasped and grabbed hold of the washbasin for support. The pain went as soon as it had struck, much to his relief, and he resumed his unpacking. The attack startled him somewhat. Although Christian regularly felt an ache around the site of the break in his right leg, the stabbing pain was more in the region of the knee joint. It was the first time he had experienced anything like it. Hopefully, it was a one-off; he certainly wouldn’t want a repetition.
The rest of the day passed peacefully. He experienced no more excruciating leg pain and found he was enjoying just pottering around the place. He defrosted a portion of a lamb rogan josh and cooked some rice. Then, after a long deep bath, fell into bed. For the first time since regaining consciousness, he slept like a baby.
God, but it was good to be home.
***
The following morning dawned fresh and beautiful. As soon as the sun crept over the windowsill in his bedroom, Christian opened his eyes, and he lay relaxed and daydreaming beneath the duvet. Lying in bed doing nothing was a luxury he rarely allowed himself. It came as a bit of a bombshell, knowing that, as he planned on taking at least a few more weeks off before returning to work, it was something he could afford to do every day.
He laughed and threw back the covers. He might not have been working for the immediate future, but he sure wasn’t going to waste time. There was a beautiful world out there waiting to be discovered and enjoyed.
After washing and dressing in a pair of dark-blue jeans and polo shirt, he grabbed a jacket from the wardrobe and decided to take a stroll into the village. He left his house and headed down the hill towards the river and felt the springtime sun caress his face and bare hands, warming his back and shoulders. If it hadn’t been for his walking stick and aches and pains, he could have almost imagined he was back to normal.
He rounded the corner in the lane, and ahead was a sight which never failed to lift his spirits. As far as the eye could see, from left to right, the Hamble River was wall to wall with sailing and motor yachts of all sizes. Despite his accident—he knew it had been just that: an accident—in no way had it marred his love of sailing and the sea.
He paused by the waterfront and watched a wooden yacht motor past down towards Southampton water and the open sea. He could see a youngish man at the helm and another about the same age standing on the side deck gathering in fenders. One man was dark-haired and the other blond. He could well have been looking at mirror images of Dominic and himself. He was dark-haired and of slight build; Dominic was blond and taller.
Thinking of his brother gave him a warm feeling. He truly wanted them to have equal shares in his business. Being ill had brought it home to him the hard way.
As he wasn’t married and had no heirs, who else but Dominic should inherit? And what better way than to make him a partner now? When Dominic had left the Navy, he had been undecided about what he wanted to do. He enjoyed Navy life but felt he needed a change before he became institutionalised, and after years of taking and giving orders, he fancied being his own boss. Christian had recently lost his manager to an overseas company, and Dominic drifted into the job on a temporary basis. Except that, he enjoyed it so much and the two brothers got on so well, he had stayed.
Christian sucked in the sea air and listened to the tinkle of halyards on metal masts before he carried on with his walk. He felt a bit stiff but thought he could make it into a circuit. He passed the newsagents and then on impulse stopped and turned around. He hadn’t read a newspaper in two days, and as he was now back home, he had plenty of time on his hands for a copy of the Telegraph and the local one. After paying for the papers, he bought a takeaway coffee and Danish from the café next door and decided it was pleasant enough a day to sit and read in the sun on one of the benches near the water.
Christian read the headlines in the Telegraph and eventually reached the entertainment section. His glance slid down the lists of plays and musicals being staged in London, and he realised it had been months since he had visited either a theatre or cinema. An advert for War Horse in London caught his eye, and he wondered what was playing locally in either Portsmouth or Southampton. He reckoned he could drive the short distance to either town with no trouble.
He turned to the local paper and idly flicked through the pages. As he scanned down one page, he noticed an advertisement for cruises in the Caribbean. He ignored the advertisement, thinking such voyages were only for old people and was about to move on when an article and photo above the advert caught his attention. Christian smoothed the page out on his lap and read through the article. But it wasn’t that which really caught his eye. The photo was of a young woman. Christian studied her face: pretty with wide-spaced eyes, a small neat nose and long, dark, wavy hair. He couldn’t tell how tall she was, but she looked slim.
Christian switched his attention back to the article which was about cruising for all ages and especially those new to the idea. A cruise: he had never thought about taking one. He recalled his parents had been fans when they were alive and had regularly taken trips all over the world, but he had been more interested in sail than motor.
He folded the paper in two and was about to stand up and leave, when instead, he reopened the tabloid and found his eyes drawn back to the newspaper and the woman’s smile. It was absurd. She had the most arresting gaze he had ever seen. He felt almost ridiculous as he stared, but somehow he just knew their lives were bound up in some way. He had to meet her.
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