“Come out whoever you are.”
More cursing.
Cautiously, Anjuli stood outside the shed door, ready to strike. If she were in a horror film this would be where she got sucked dry by the vampire, but she didn’t care. She would get in a good whack before he made off with her garden tools. The shed door opened and she aimed for the thief’s head, stopping just short of hitting him.
“Jesus Christ, you trying to kill me?”
It was Craig. Anjuli dropped the axe. “What are you doing in my shed? You scared me half to death.”
“Mac asked me to drop some paint by on my way home. I tripped on something and one of the shelves fell so I tried to fix it. Then the shelf I put the paint on collapsed.”
Anjuli laughed, more from the release of tension than from humour, and Craig grinned. Then his eyes raced down to her breasts and stopped like a speeding car at a red light. Anjuli looked down, realising nothing but thin red silk covered her naked body.
“I think you’d better leave.”
He looked uncomfortable. “How’s Ash? Mac told me she was in hospital.”
“She’s fine,” Anjuli said, telling herself not to lay into him or...to hell with that. “Mac loves you, Craig, she always has. How could you?”
Craig shrugged. “I never should have married her. I don’t love her and I never did. The only reason I’ve stayed this long is because of the boys.”
His sudden amnesia was galling. “How you can say you never loved her? You begged me to double-date at a school dance once, just so you could talk to her and—”
“We got married too young.”
Anjuli was so angry she couldn’t speak. She didn’t see his charm or the fun-loving high school friend she remembered. He paced the ground as if trapped in a cage, occasionally punctuating his words with frustrated expletives as he talked of his unhappiness.
His tirade about being bored with Mac, with marriage, with Heaverlock, seemed cathartic for him, but she didn’t want to be Craig’s confessor or hear his self-righteous excuses for cheating.
“There’s no excuse for being unfaithful or for sleeping with my sister. She’s pregnant, Craig, and I hear you’ve got another child somewhere.”
He looked at the ground and shifted on his feet. “Ash was up for it, and I thought she was on the pill,” he said bullishly. “A man has needs, and Mac is the most insipid woman I—”
“Don’t you dare blame your infidelity on her,” Anjuli said, getting so close she could slap him. She controlled the urge with effort, but if he said another bad word about Mac she’d...
“I’m leaving her.”
Bam! Her hand made contact with his cheek, and he caught it and yanked her close. “Bitch,” he said, dragging her against his chest.
Stunned, she tried to shake him off, but he twisted her arm behind her back, holding her against him.
“It’s over for Mac and me. I’ve moved on. I’m going to divorce her and marry my girlfriend.”
“And which one would that be?” Anjuli said, struggling to get free.
“I’ll let you go if you hear me out and promise not to hit me,” Craig said, showing the first signs of remorse. Anjuli bit him and he laughed, then she went slack so he would loosen his hold and she could break free.
Before she could, a woman’s voice interrupted them.
“Sorry, is this a bad time?”
Oh God, anybody but her. Sarah Brunel’s face was as rigid as her tone. “I came to take some pictures, but I could come back later. I see why you said you like your privacy.”
* * *
Anjuli groaned, remembering the reporter’s cat-got-the-cream expression and dropped her handbag on the console table. It had been a long morning after Craig left, followed by an even longer afternoon at the pub and the only thing she wanted was to soak until her skin shrivelled like a raisin. The new central heating system meant she now had the luxury of hot water, but instead of enjoying it she was too restless to relax. The message on her answering machine from Mac, inviting her to a girls’ night out the following Wednesday only compounded her stress. She erased the recording and poured herself a large glass of red. Then another. What the hell, a fresh bottle for the sitting room in case she finished this one. All she wanted was to forget her problems for one night.
Earlier, she had lit a fire and by its crackling light she watched the sun set over Heaverlock Castle. She lifted the cinnamon-scented wine to her mouth. Where was the other bottle? Something rolled under the sofa and the world rolled with it, tipping her over as she stuck her hand underneath and grabbed it. Soon enough, she was feeling pleasantly tipsy, in a better mood to reflect on her growing list of disasters, starting with Castle Manor.