Stevie had only guessed that Jo would have done that to Colin, but from his small cough, she knew she had guessed right. Colin seemed to pale before her very eyes. She felt quite guilty that she was the one to bear the news that would probably break his heart.
‘I understand you've had a recent loss,' said Stevie tentatively.
‘Ms Poll … I don't see … '
‘Sometimes when we're in pain, we'll snatch at anything that promises to stop it. Hope makes us see what we want to see.'
‘I really must end … '
‘All I'm saying is that if something appears too good to be true, it's probably because it is.'
Colin Seed gulped. That was one of his mother's sayings and as such, it resonated loudly within him.
‘I won't take up any more of your time, Mr Seed. I thank you for agreeing to meet me. Please think about what I've said,' and with a gentle, caring smile, Stevie added, ‘And good luck.'
There was a nerve ticking in Colin's neck, Stevie noticed. He nodded goodbye as if his throat was constricted and held his hand out towards her. Stevie shook that hand, warmly with both of hers, and then she left and closed the door quietly behind her.
As she walked out of the building via the revolving door, Jo MacLean came in from the opposite side. As if in slow motion, they turned to stare at each other. For once, Jo's eyes had none of that victorious haughtiness in them. Stevie's cocksure presence in her workplace unsettled her greatly. She hadn't bargained on Matthew finding a champion after her claims, because no one wanted to stick up for a sex beast. Least of all a disgruntled ex!
Stevie fought down the impulse to double-back, grab the bitch by the hair and proclaim it to the busy atrium of people just what a life-wrecker Miss Gorgeous Body really was, but instead, she held onto her dignity, turned her head away and walked out into the fresh air of the day. Let someone else clear up the rest of this mess now; she was done with it.
Outside, sitting in his car, Matthew watched Jo MacLean strut towards the offices like an arrogant peacock. He almost didn't recognize her, for there was little resemblance to the soft and fragile woman he had met that day in the car park. She looked cold and proud and hard. He didn't even think her very beautiful any more; she was a stranger to him. Then, seconds later, he saw the familiar unchanging form of Stevie emerge from the building and he automatically smiled. The sunlight had lodged in her hair and she looked like an angel coming towards the car. That's what Stevie was, an angel. A lovely, sweet, golden-hearted angel.
He drove home, unable to stop beaming gratefully over at Stevie and saying that he couldn't thank her enough. Stevie nodded, but didn't say much. She just wanted Matthew to stick his foot down and for her to be home. With Adam.
When she got to Humbleby Cottage, Adam was gone, and so were his clothes. There was a note on the table that said Dear Stevie, We both need some time to think. I will be in touch. Love to Danny, goodbye – Adam.
Her eyes bloomed with tears, as once again she thought, How final goodbye sounds.
Chapter 53
Of course, Adam had lied. He didn't need any time. He knew what he wanted but he had to get out of the way and not complicate things for Stevie. She had waited so patiently for Matthew to come back to her and now she had him. So how could he upset all that for her by declaring his feelings now?
He pushed the door open to his house – only a house, never his home. It was so chilled and without heart, warmth, laughter or little boy's mess. There was no Mr Greengrass Head on the windowsill, no comfy clutter of pens or books with clocks-and-moons motifs on the covers. There were no clouds of flour billowing from the kitchen and no monster pans of chilli on the hob. He had never liked this house, but now he hated it. It was big and bare and echoey, and the memories stored within its walls were cold and hollow. He would ring the estate agent that afternoon and get it on the market. Then he would award himself some time off work so he didn't bump into Stevie.
Stevie.
Adam MacLean dropped himself on the cold leather sofa and thought of the softness of her face as he held it, remembered how she had gulped as he stared into her eyes and how his heart had trembled when her lips had touched his. He had never loved anyone in this way before, with a depth that made cheap parodies of all the other times he thought he had been in love. Stevie deserved to be happy, and he so much wanted her to be happy – with him or without him. And it looked as if it was going to be without him.
At that thought, big fierce boxer-faced Adam MacLean's head fell forwards into his hands. He didn't stop the tears when they came.
Chapter 54
Jo sat in her bedroom in the Queens Hotel staring into her compact mirror as she applied a slick smear of lipstick. Was that a line appearing under her eye? she wondered. It was becoming more and more urgent to hook a rich fish who would be able to finance her fight against the ravages of time. Beauty was a talent on a timer.
Suddenly Jo lauched the compact across the room, smashing it against the wall. She didn't even think of clearing it up. Any mess outside the boundary of Jo's clothes was of no consequence. She was interested in nothing but the fulfilment of her own needs.
‘Damn you, Stevie Fucking Honeywell,' she snarled. Had it not been for that short, fat cow she would be in Colin's lovely oak-panelled house now, being petted and fussed over, and not in the cheapest room in a glory-faded hotel paid for by pawned jewellery. Or better still, she would be with Adam. He wasn't as rich as Colin, by far, and no one was more surprised than her to realize that it didn't seem to matter. Jo MacLean's mantra had always been, ‘Happiness doesn't bring you money.'
There was a two-day Porsche business convention going in the hotel, and a wealth of suits spilled into the large reception area, the wine garden, the bars and restaurant. Jo slipped on a plain black dress that emphasized her long, slim body, the cut of it adding the illusion of curves. She had never failed to ‘pull' in that dress.
But before she explored the potential downstairs, there was one final thing she needed to do. She couldn't just leave it there with Adam and Stevie. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then why the fuck should they?
Jo MacLean picked up her pen.
Chapter 55
On the last day at work before his self-imposed break, Adam's hand stilled on the envelope in the middle of the pile of post in his office at Well Life. There was no stamp on it, so it had obviously been hand-delivered for maximum effect. He knew the beautiful precise writing with the artistic loops well. He should have thrown it out, but curiosity got the better of him. It was Jo at her manipulative best.
Dearest Adam, whatever you think about receiving this from me, grant me one final kindness and read it to the end, I beg you.
They were iron words, cushioned in a velvet glove of girly curls. I'm so sorry I hurt you … I will always care for you … I have to say this … He didn't want to read it, but the masochistic part of him couldn't rip his eyes away from the hypnotic soft swirls of ink.
She put it oh so beautifully, how he could never be right for Stevie because he would never conform to her dull, vain type … and you deserve to find someone who will love you for the strong, selfless, unique, big personality that you are. She said that playing happy families with Stevie and Danny was a mere illusion, because Stevie's own horrid experiences with step-parents would never allow him to be really accepted unless he were perfect. She was saying this to be kind, of course. Darling Adam, you were the best thing that ever happened to me and I shall always regret my stupid mistake at falling for the lies of another. I still love you and if you ever change your mind, I will drop everything and come to you. Be happy, you wonderful man. Jo x.
He read the letter through to the end and the words continued to sting him long after he had ripped it up and thrown it into the bin. Adam MacLean might have known his basic psychology well, but Jo MacLean was a past master.
Stevie found the letter on the welcome mat. It had been hand-delivered and bore her name in extravagant script on the front. There was a friendly little smiling face drawn in the final ‘e' to lend it affection. Stevie didn't want to open it, but its very presence gave her no choice.
Dearest Stevie, I know you will never forgive me but please allow me this one act of genuine friendship and read this letter to the end …
The words were exquisitely put, needles embedded in cotton wool. She knew this, but still she read on. Adam is using you … he never stopped loving me … He invited me to the gym to talk about a reconciliation … He told me evil things you had said about me … I so regret believing him and scratching your car in temper …