Hot Pursuit

Gloria Armstrong, whose husband farmed several hundred acres north of Saviour’s Bay, gave him a winning smile. Like several of the mothers of children in Rosie’s class, she was always eager to chat with him. Matt was by no means a conceited man, but he knew these women seemed to get a disproportionate delight in using his first name. It was a pity Hester wasn’t still here to run interference for him.

‘Gloria,’ he responded now, nodding to her and to one or two of the other parents. Thankfully, there was a handful of fathers present, too, and he was able to ally himself with them as he waited for Rosie to emerge from the school buildings.

‘I hear you’ve had no luck in finding someone to care for Rosemary,’ Gloria added, not at all daunted by his offhand greeting. Her heavily mascaraed eyes moved over his tall figure with a certain avidity. ‘I wish I could do something to help.’

Yeah, right. Matt schooled his features and gave a wry smile. ‘I’m sure you’ve got enough to do looking after those three boys of yours,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Not to mention your husband. How is Ron, by the way?’

Gloria’s mouth turned down. ‘Oh, Ron’s all right,’ she said dismissively. ‘So long as he has his golf and his beer and his cronies, he’s as happy as a pig in muck!’ She grimaced. ‘I sometimes think he doesn’t care about me and the boys at all.’

Remembering what Rosie had said about the three boys, two of whom were in her class, Matt reserved judgement. There was no doubt they were tearaways in the making, but who was he to condemn them? He’d probably been far worse in his youth. At least if half of what his mother maintained was true.

‘I imagine the farm keeps him fairly busy,’ he said neutrally, wishing he could move away from her. He noticed their conversation was being observed by more than one pair of interested eyes, and the last thing he needed was for someone to mention to Ron Armstrong that he’d been seen chatting up his wife at the school gates. Despite what he’d said to Gloria, he knew her husband was a hothead and a bully. He could imagine the headlines if the other man chose to take him to task for being a womaniser.

A womaniser! Him! Matt stifled a groan. Nothing could be further from the truth. These days he was virtually celibate. The last time he’d got laid had been before Hester retired. He’d had to spend a weekend in London, visiting his agent and doing some publicity, and one of the advertising execs had come on to him. She’d been exceptionally good-looking, he recalled, but their hasty coupling in her hotel room had hardly been memorable. He’d been glad he could honestly say he was leaving London the following morning, and he’d left strict instructions with his agent that he wasn’t to give his phone number to anyone…

‘I wish I had a job.’

He’d forgotten Gloria was still there, but her rueful remark forced him to acknowledge her again. ‘You have a job,’ he said, wishing Rosie would hurry. He glanced at his watch. ‘I wonder what’s holding them up?’

‘Who?’ Gloria looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

‘The kids,’ said Matt quellingly. Then, with some relief, ‘Ah—here they are.’

‘You know, I could look after Rosemary.’ Gloria grabbed his arm as he would have moved away. ‘At least I’ve had plenty of experience.’

And not just in looking after children, thought Matt drily, shaking her hand off his sleeve. For the first time he felt a little sympathy for Ron Armstrong. Perhaps he had some justification for his temper, after all.

‘It’s okay,’ he heard himself saying now. ‘I’m hoping I’ve found someone. She just started today, as a matter of fact.’

Gloria’s full mouth took on a sulky slant. ‘Well, that’s news,’ she said, clearly not believing him. ‘I was talking to Emma Proctor yesterday morning and she didn’t say anything about you hiring a nanny.’

‘She doesn’t know yet,’ said Matt, wondering how he could have been so reckless as to say such a thing. Now he would have to ring Emma and explain the situation to her.

‘Obviously not.’

Gloria sniffed, but to Matt’s relief Rosie had seen him and she came barrelling out of the gate towards them.

‘Daddy! Daddy!’ she squealed, flinging herself into his arms. ‘You came! You came!’

‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ said Matt, swinging her round. He grinned. ‘Have you had a good day?’

‘Quite good—’

‘Your daddy’s had a better one,’ put in Gloria maliciously, before Matt could perceive her intent and deflect it. ‘He’s found someone to look after you, Rosemary. Isn’t that nice? I expect she’ll be coming to meet you tomorrow.’

Rosie’s eyes grew round. ‘Is that true, Daddy? Has the agency sent you someone else?’

‘Not exactly.’ Matt could have strangled Gloria as she stood there enjoying his discomfort. Clearly she thought he was making the whole thing up and she wanted him to have to admit it. Casting her a malevolent look, he ushered Rosie away towards the Range Rover. ‘I’ll tell you all about it as we go home,’ he promised, flicking the key fob to unlock the vehicle. ‘Okay?’

‘But you have found a new nanny, haven’t you, Daddy?’ Rosie asked, clambering, with his assistance, into the front seat. ‘You weren’t just saying that?’

Matt reflected again how adult Rosie was at times. He had no idea what he was going to say to her. He couldn’t lie to his daughter, but equally he had to come up with a reasonable explanation of who Sara was and why she was staying at the house.

If she was still there when he got back, he acknowledged. She could have taken the keys he’d left on the counter in the kitchen and made another attempt to start her car. Once she found it was operable, she was a free agent. Whatever he thought, she’d have no reason to stay.

He sighed, fitting his keys into the ignition, and Rosie gave him a troubled look. ‘What’s wrong, Daddy?’ she asked shrewdly. She hesitated. ‘Is it because you haven’t found a nanny? Did you just say that because you don’t like Mrs Armstrong? ’Cos that’s all right. I don’t like Rupert and Nigel either.’

Rupert and Nigel! Matt raised his eyes heavenward for a moment. Nobody but Gloria Armstrong would have called those two imps of Satan Rupert and Nigel. Rosie was always telling him some story or other about what they’d got up to in the classroom, about how Mrs Sanders was forever sending them to the head teacher for extra discipline.

But grumbling about the Armstrongs wasn’t going to help him now. Choosing his words with care, he said, ‘A young woman did come to see me today. Not from the agency,’ he added quickly, holding up a hand to prevent Rosie from interrupting. ‘She’s a visitor. Her car broke down at the bottom of the road and she came to ask if she could use the phone.’

Rosie’s face dropped. ‘So she’s not a nanny?’

‘No.’ Matt shook his head. ‘But she is going to stay with us, at least until tomorrow. So I want you to be especially nice to her.’

Rosie sniffed. ‘So who is she? Why is she staying with us?’

‘I’ve just explained,’ said Matt patiently. ‘Her car broke down and—she can’t get it fixed until tomorrow.’ May God forgive him the lie. ‘She’s nice. I think you’ll like her.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Sara. Sara Victor. What do you think?’

Rosie shrugged, and Matt thought at first that she was going to reserve her opinion until she’d met their visitor. But he was wrong. His daughter was simply considering her options.

‘Perhaps she’ll want to stay,’ she said at last, with childish optimism. ‘If she likes it here, she might want to take the job.’

Matt made no response to this. He was already regretting having to discuss Sara’s arrival with her. But then, he’d known he’d have to give some explanation to his daughter. Unfortunately Gloria Armstrong had precipitated the event.

It seemed to take for ever to get back to Saviour’s Bay. Now that she knew about Sara, Rosie wasn’t interested in talking about her day at school. She just turned the conversation back to Sara, and he eventually gave up trying to talk about anything else.

She wanted to know Sara’s age, what she looked like, where she came from. If she was on holiday, what was wrong with her car? The questions came thick and fast, and Matt dreaded getting back to Seadrift and finding that Sara had gone. He didn’t know what he’d tell his daughter if that happened. And, however slight the association was, he knew Rosie would be very disappointed, too.

Would he be disappointed?

That was a question he chose not to ask himself. Yet he knew he was curious about Sara as well. From a professional point of view, he assured himself firmly. As a psychological case, she interested him greatly. But that was all it was, he told himself. He had no interest in her as a woman at all. The days when he’d allowed his hormones to govern his actions were long gone. Any relationships he had were short and rarely sweet. Which suited him.

It was something of a relief to find that the hired Ford was still parked where Sara had left it. If it wouldn’t have caused complications that he chose not to get into right now he’d have shifted it inside his own gates. But towing it would require her assistance, and she might just be tempted to try and start it herself.

‘Is that her car?’ asked Rosie, peering over her shoulder as they drove up the private road to the house. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘I’ve already told you. I don’t know,’ said Matt, disliking the untruth almost as much as his own behaviour. ‘Can you sit still? We’re almost there.’

‘Where is she?’

Rosie was still full of questions, and Matt expelled a weary breath. ‘I expect she’s in the sitting room,’ he said shortly, hoping Sara hadn’t been invading the rest of the house. He didn’t think it was likely. She’d seemed quite happy in the spacious sitting room, with its broad windows that overlooked the sweep of the bay.

Rosie had her door open as soon as he stopped the car, jumping down onto the paved forecourt, dragging her canvas bag behind her. Scurrying round the corner of the building, she briefly disappeared from view, but Matt could hear the dogs barking as she reached the back door.