“They’re having a good time,” Sylvia commented.
“My dinner companions.” He laughed.
“Dinner won’t be dull, then.”
“Neither will yours.”
“No, Freddie’s a laugh a minute.” But as she left the hotel she was struck by a sudden stab of loneliness. There was no dinner with Freddie; he was at home with his family. There was no one at home for her.
Jake stood in the hall and watched her walk across the gravel to her car. He had said “good night,” but she had responded glumly, without even looking at him. Her evening with Rafa had clearly not gone well. He wished she had stopped to talk to him. He was sure he could have cheered her up.
The following morning Harvey drew up in front of the hotel in a gleaming Jaguar. With the roof down, he sat at the wheel, his arm resting casually on the window frame, a roguish grin carved into his happy face.
“Go and find Marina,” he called to Tom, who gave a low whistle before rushing off to get her.
Shane sauntered out to admire the car. “It’s a real beauty,” he gushed.
“Jaguar XK, with all the trimmings.”
“Nice. Whose is it?”
“My nephew’s. He’s lent it to me. I want to see Marina’s face when she sees me in it.”
“Nice nephew!”
“He’s done well for himself.”
“Will you take me for a spin later?”
“You bet. It’ll take more than a few odd jobs to get me out of this today.”
Marina stepped onto the gravel, and her mouth opened in a silent gasp as she saw Harvey at the wheel of a sleek racing-green Jaguar. “I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed, shaking her head in wonder. “I never thought I’d see you in a sports car, Harvey. It’s stunning!”
“Get in!”
“Are you going to take me for a drive?”
“I have a little time before I’m due to take Rafa and his painters to the Powells’ for lunch. Mrs. Powell is putting on a picnic for them so they can paint the old dovecote.”
“What a good idea. So, where shall we go?”
“Wherever you want, m’lady.” Shane opened the passenger door and watched Marina climb in.
“How exciting.” She laughed like a young girl going out on a date. “We’ll be gone for some time,” she told Shane. “Tell Jake to hold the fort.” With a purr the car crept smoothly into the drive. Shane and Tom watched it go.
“I’d like a car like that,” said Tom enviously.
“The only way you’re going to get one of those is by stealing it, or robbing a bank,” said Shane.
“Or finding a rich bird to buy me one.”
“You won’t find her here, lad. Rich birds go to the South of France not Dawcomb-Devlish.”
“What a beauty, Harvey. How long have you got it for?” Marina shouted over the roar of the wind.
“As long as I want,” he replied carelessly. “My nephew won’t be needing it. He’s gone abroad for a few weeks.”
“It must have cost a bomb.”
“Sixty-three grand, new.”
“You’ve got to be joking?”
“Nope. Well, that’s the retail price, but this is secondhand. Still, it’s got all the trimmings; leather seats, touch-screen sat nav, alloy wheels, and she moves like a big, beautiful cat.”
“She certainly does. You’d better keep it in the garage while that robber is on the loose.”
“I’m more worried about the boys running off with it.”
“Shane and Tom?”
“Yes, wouldn’t trust them as far as I can throw them.” He winked. “When it comes to those two, they’re just a pair of schoolboys.”
They drove down the country lanes, the sun on their faces, the wind tossing Marina’s long hair playfully. After a while they ceased to talk. Occasionally, she smiled at him and he grinned back at her fondly, and in those moments she was able to forget about Clementine, the hotel, their mounting debt, and the imminent arrival of Charles Rueben. When she was with Harvey, she felt the weight of responsibility lighten, as if he was there to carry it all for her.
* * *
Clementine was furious with Sylvia for having deliberately excluded her from her evening with Rafa, but for once she decided not to create a scene. She was disappointed in her, having believed they were friends, but in her heart she was not surprised. Sylvia was a man’s woman, and their friendship counted for nothing when she set her sights on a new conquest.
She got to work early, having not wanted to spend more time than necessary lying beside Joe, who seemed to have nothing to get up for, and drank a latte at her desk. She wore her hair up and her navy suit, but had packed a Jack Wills sundress, cardigan, and flip-flops in a bag for later. The very thought of spending the evening with Rafa had turned her stomach upside down. She had no appetite for breakfast and could barely sit still.