True Colours - Part 23
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Part 23

'Lord Kilfenora?' Alex spun around, her hand flying to her mouth, 'I thought...'

Jocelyn sighed, nodding 'Sebastian told the firemen where to find him, but he was unconscious when they brought him out. He's in intensive care; he's conscious now but they think he's had another stroke. They can't be sure what the damage is yet.'

'Another stroke?' Alex's voice was too high, shaky. She might hate the man but it was still terrible to hear. And it could so easily have been her and Sebastian.

Tom shook his head, rolling his eyes like she was being stupid. 'You heard it la.s.s, another stroke.' He paused, his weathered face sad. 'He's a grand man, has had a good old innings. Still, it's no way to be is it?'

Jocelyn patted Tom's arm again, 'I know. Sebastian will have a lot on his plate now.'

They nodded, joined in their grief like an elderly couple.

'That's the tea on, I'd better open the windows, air the place a bit. The minute it's shut up the damp comes back.'

'Pint's what I need la.s.s after that news. We need to drink to his health.'

Getting out of the kitchen as fast as she decently could, Alex skipped up the stairs, stopping at the top, forgetting why she had come up. Lord Kilfenora had had another stroke. She couldn't believe it. She'd been so sure Sebastian would be able to get him out okay. His rooms were in the west wing, away from the worst of the blaze, and with all the fire fighters and paramedics on site, surely...

Downstairs she could hear them talking, her dad's voice: 'He's a great man, doesn't feel right...' And Jocelyn muttering her agreement. 'So a pint it is, and I need a decent meal, the food in that hospital was only terrible...'

To her right the low-panelled door into her bedroom stood open. Ducking inside, Alex stood for a moment, swayed, reached out for the door frame to steady herself, staring blindly, unable to move. Her dad had painted it a sunshine yellow when they'd moved in, the sloping ceiling bright white, and now it was filled with light, the afternoon sun coursing through the diamond-paned window, falling across her duvet, sprinkled with star-like forget-me-nots, like there wasn't a worry in the world. So different from last night, so different from Kilfenora. Kneeling on the narrow single bed, Alex reached across to open the window, the scrolled bra.s.s catch smooth and warm in her hand. As she opened the window, she was greeted by the loamy scent of the woods, the sound of birdsong. For a split second she felt like she'd never been away, like last night was some sort of bad dream.

But she knew it wasn't.

Turning, sitting down on the bed, running her fingers into her hair, it took Alex a few moments to realise that she'd stuck her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. It dug into her like an accusing finger, reminding her that she hadn't phoned Sebastian. He'd be devastated. How could she not have returned his calls, what was she thinking? It was the least she could do after he'd saved her life. Pulling her phone out, Alex looked at the screen. She had four unopened texts. She scrolled through them: Marina, Senor Marquez, Ulster Carpets, and the last one... only sent an hour ago...Will u have dinner w me 2nit? Need 2 talk. Call me at the hse. Seb x FORTY EIGHT.

Alex heard Sebastian's mobile ring, but a strange voice answered it.

'Wingfield.'

She hesitated, 'Sebastian?'

'Alex is that you? I've been trying to get hold of you.'

Playing nervously with the curly wire attached to the bedside phone in her father's room, Alex could hear Tom speaking to Jocelyn downstairs, their voices a murmur through the pitch pine floor. The room was meticulously tidy but had that lonely, empty feeling of a room unlived in.

'Yes, it's me....I'm sorry I missed you yesterday, I slept all day.' Alex cringed inwardly, that sounded utterly feeble. She moved on quickly. 'How are things?'

Sebastian's voice was hoa.r.s.e, gravely. She heard him sigh. Then, 'We're getting there.'

'I just heard, I'm so sorry...so sorry about your grandfather, how is he today?'

'Much the same.' The sigh again, 'They're hoping he'll regain some movement but it's going to be a long haul. Christ it's all such a mess. How are you?'

'I'm fine almost toast, but this guy I know is a bit of a lifesaver.'

Alex tried to make it sound light, humorous. How could she begin to thank him?

Sebastian's laugh was throaty, s.e.xy, lost in a shuddering crash somewhere in the background.

'What on earth was that?'

'Builders. Did you get my text?'

'Yes, I...'

He interrupted her. 'I know it's a bit of trek back down here, but...but I thought...'

It was her turn to interrupt, 'It's fine.' Should she tell him she was on the estate already? 'Tonight's good, what time?'

'How about eight, give you time to get organised?' Jocelyn must have told him that her dad was being discharged, but he would a.s.sume they'd go back to Alex's house from the hospital.

'That's grand...'

'Can you meet me at the west gate, near your dad's place? You don't need to dress up, but bring a jacket in case it's chilly later.'

In case it's chilly? 'Okay ...that's grand.' Now she sounded like a parrot, 'I'll see you later.'

'Good. Excellent. See you at eight then.' Alex could almost hear him smiling.

Alex replaced the receiver carefully, her hand trembling, heart thumping inside her chest like a military tattoo, face burning. It was just as well he couldn't see her. Why had she been dreading that call? Why had it been so difficult? Sebastian had saved her life...but...a wave of exhaustion washed over her, exhaustion and despair. There was still the problem of her dad. They'd have to sort it out at dinner...he was right when he said this was all such a mess. For a moment Alex wondered if she really wanted to have dinner with him. It made the whole thing personal somehow and Alex knew from experience it was way better to keep business and pleasure separate, very separate. She ran her hand across her eyes. If it wasn't for her dad she'd be jumping on a plane right now and getting back to Spain, back to the sunshine and her friends and eating outside. Well, she had no choice now.

Turning to leave the room, Alex caught sight of her reflection in her father's wardrobe mirror, stopped, shocked. She'd lost weight since she'd arrived back in Ireland, her cheeks hollowed, cheekbones even sharper than normal, skin pale. She'd put a cerise jacket on this morning over her black jeans and black skinny t-shirt anything to make her feel a bit more cheerful. But now it seemed to drain her. And her hair was all over the place she'd had to wash it twice yesterday to try and get rid of the smell of smoke, not that it had helped, and despite soaking it in conditioner and anti-frizz stuff, it was wild looking. She'd certainly have a few words for Trevor Sorbie if she ever met him...Alex pulled at it, tucking it behind her ears, taking a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Took another long look at herself. At least she had two earrings in.

But how on earth could she have dinner with Sebastian looking like this?

She needed a shower and a whole new face there was a lipstick in her handbag, but she was pretty sure it was a shade different from the one she had on. Alex glanced at her watch. It was already two o'clock. There was no way she could abandon her dad and fly back home to change, and she still had all his packing to do. In desperation she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, slipping an elastic tie off her wrist to hold it back, rubbed her lips together and pinched her cheeks. A bit better, but not much...

Downstairs, Jocelyn was gathering her things to leave.

'So, I'll be back at seven and we'll see what Foley's has to offer, will we?'

'I'll look forward to it.' Tom started to get up.

'Don't,' she waved him back into his seat, 'I'll see myself out. You need to have a rest, get those old bones into bed.'

Tom nodded, grinning, 'Ah, these bones have plenty of life left in them yet.'

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs Alex looked at him, astonished she hadn't heard him talk like that in years. Was he flirting with Joss? Was she blushing? Then she realised what they were talking about dinner tonight flip...

'I'm really sorry Joss but I'm not sure if I can make dinner, I'm...'

Tom interrupted before she could finish, 'Who said you were invited? You're the one who keeps going on about how much packing there is to do. I thought I'd get out of your way and let you get on with it.'

Well, that was telling her.

'Oh, excuse me.' Alex said it with as much emphasis as she could, trying to sound put out, disapproving, at the same time fighting a smile.

'And there'll be no need to wait up either, Joss will make sure I get home in one piece won't you my dear?'

'I will of course. We won't be late, so you needn't worry.'

'I might go out myself...so don't you be waiting up either.' Alex flashed Jocelyn a smile, 'he's a cantankerous old goat, I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for.'

Jocelyn shot her a knowing look, 'After working for the Wingfields for almost forty years, nothing fazes me my dear, I take it all in my stride, don't you worry.'

Moments later Jocelyn had gone, leaving a rather surprising waft of Chanel No 5 behind her.

'I need a nap love if I'm going out gadding. You can start in the kitchen can you, do the bedroom tomorrow? And watch your mother's good china, that's an heirloom that is.'

'Yes Dad.' Alex threw him a mock salute as he levered himself out of his chair. 'Let me give you a hand up the stairs.'

Several hours later, her jacket off, t-shirt pulled up to her elbows, surrounded by a sea of torn-up newspaper and china ornaments, Alex heard Jocelyn's car pull up outside. She glanced at her watch, shocked at the pa.s.sage of time. Once she had got started on the packing, sorting the china, wrapping each piece and stowing it in the cardboard boxes she had brought down, flat packed, in the back of the car, she had found herself relaxing for the first time in weeks, enjoying the peace and quiet, the first opportunity she had had to switch off, to let her mind drift over half-forgotten memories. Until now. Suddenly aware of the time, Alex's stomach began to knot she'd pushed the whole business of dinner from her mind for the past few hours, but now...now it was very real.

FORTY NINE.

Alex felt the sinking sun warm on her face as she emerged from the tunnel of trees leading from the cottage, her stomach fluttering, palm's clammy. Sebastian was already there, had his back to her, was looking out through the trelliswork of the west gate towards the village, shadows falling like antique lace around his feet.

'Hi'

The lane was rough, un-tarmacked, m.u.f.fling her footsteps and Sebastian jumped as she spoke, spun around, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a Barbour jacket looped over his arm. The sun, like a jewel burning behind him, dazzled her, throwing his face into shadow, turning his navy cashmere sweater to midnight.

'I thought you'd be driving.'

Alex lifted her hand to shield her eyes, 'I got here early, parked by the cottage. It's a beautiful evening.'

Sebastian nodded, 'Thanks for coming.'

Alex shrugged, smiling, 'I couldn't exactly say no to the guy who saved my life now could I?'

Sebastian shook his head, embarra.s.sed, Alex stuck her own hands in her pockets, blushing, why had she said that?

'So where are we eating?' Oh G.o.d, the thought hit her as she spoke, surely not Foley's? But she needn't have worried. Moving under the trees, Sebastian glanced at her shyly, the sun lighting his eyes to azure blue, sending her stomach into a tailspin.

'This way.'

He ducked off the lane and down a winding track, dry sticks cracking beneath his feet. Surprised, Alex paused for a moment, not sure what to do she hadn't been expecting a cross-country walk.

'Are you coming?'

Pulling herself together, Alex fell into step behind him, ducking under the branches, pushing away the brambles that caught at her ankles. Walking single file, they didn't speak, instead listened to the sounds of the woods joining in a chorus around them, a lone robin leading, the repeated notes of a song thrush urging them deeper into the cathedral of the trees. Sebastian paused, a pace ahead of her, held a branch out of her way; elder, dripping with milky star-like flowers, bright in the dusk. Where on earth were they going? With each step her curiosity grew. Alex strained her ears surely that was the sound of water?

Then she knew.

Rushing and tumbling, the sound of the river reached her like a choir of boys falling out of the stalls after practice. And suddenly the path opened into a clearing, knee deep in bluebells, their scent rising like a chorus.

'Oh my goodness...' Alex's hand shot to her mouth. Sebastian had stopped in front of her, and as Alex came up behind him, so close she could smell the residue of smoke in his hair, the Wright's Cold Tar Soap he had used to try and get rid of it, the words slipped out. 'Wow.'

They were looking at the Mill House.

But it wasn't the tumble-down ruin Alex remembered, derelict and forgotten, the windows boarded up, the only light falling through the holes in the thatch. Far from it.

'When did you do all this?'

Sebastian smiled, his eyes meeting hers, holding her gaze, sending a chill up her spine. Unaware of the effect he was having, he turned back to the building, its freshly whitewashed walls glowing in the gathering dusk. Set at an angle to the river, the great wheel facing them, the thatch was flawless now, packed hard, cut in intricate geometric patterns along the ridge. A wisp of smoke rose from the chimney, lights smiling from every one of the tiny diamond-paned windows.

'Your dad helped.'

'My dad?'

As Alex spoke, the ancient wheel began to turn, its paddles smacking the surface of the water in time to the beat of her heart. Reaching deep into the river, the water tumbled like laughter as it came back up for each rotation.

'It works.' Alex could hear the relief and satisfaction in Sebastian's voice, 'after the week I've had, I was sure it would seize up.'

Sebastian glanced at her, shy again, stuck his hands in his pockets and began to follow a rabbit track through the flowers. Opposite the house, a narrow wooden bridge spanned the river. The boards creaked as they crossed, a dragonfly, its wings iridescent, body cobalt blue, hovering beside them before zipping off across the river, its curiosity satisfied.

'So are we eating here?'

'Sort of. What do you think of the place?'

'Professionally or personally?'

'Either...both.' A shadow of concern flashed across Sebastian's face.

'I love it. Professionally and personally.'

A grin twitched at the sides of his mouth. 'Good. Good. Do you want to see inside?'

'I thought you'd never ask.'

Pushing open the cherry red front door, its new paint gleaming in the glow from the coach lights on either side, Sebastian stamped off the mud on his boots on a rough coconut mat.

'Mind that step, I didn't want to take it out.'

Alex smiled, stepping over the lopsided granite lintel standing proud of the terracotta tiles, worn in the middle where hundreds of feet had gone before them. She would have left it as well.

'It's ideal for tripping up door-to-door salesmen,' Sebastian's laugh was rich, deep, 'We get a lot of those around here.'

'Good evening Mr Wingfield.'

Alex almost jumped out of her skin. She hadn't expected there to be anyone else here. A young girl materialised from behind the door, smart in a black skirt and white shirt, a fuchsia pink tie at her neck. She was holding out a silver tray, the gla.s.ses on it full, fizzing and bubbling.

'Thank you Anna, how is everything?' Sebastian threw his coat over the back of a rich brown leather sofa dividing the open-plan living area in two, a fire leaping in a huge inglenook fireplace at one end, a modern kitchen dominated by a claret coloured Aga at the other. He accepted the gla.s.s with a gracious smile.

'Grand Mr Wingfield, David has everything ready.' The girl nodded towards the kitchen.

Coming into the room properly, accepting a gla.s.s, Alex followed the girl's eyes, surprised to see a chef, complete with hat, turn from the counter and bend down to open one of the ovens. The smell escaping from it was delicious, filled the room, red wine and garlic, a delicate undertone of ...fish?

'This is David, I didn't have the energy to cook, so I cheated a bit.'