Escape for the Summer (35 page)

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jonty apologised when Andi unlocked the door in her state of disarray. His eyes, brimming with concern, searched hers as he spoke. “I’ve just heard what happened yesterday and I wanted to make sure you were OK. If I’d known before I’d have come straight over.”

Andi couldn’t help wondering where he’d been. When she’d walked home the whole of Rock had been abuzz with the episode, especially seeing as Callum South had been involved. Maybe he had been out somewhere with Jax? Yes, that was probably it.

“You didn’t answer your phone and I was worried,” Jonty added when she didn’t speak. “I must have called you about twenty times.”

Andi was touched. “You shouldn’t have worried; I’m fine, honestly. The phone isn’t, though. It went overboard.”

“Thank God
you
didn’t.” His hands were clenched into fists. “Honestly, I knew that guy was a total cock when we saw him on the water. A liability. You could have been killed, Andi.”

This thought had already gone through her mind and Andi strongly suspected that the horror of realising that Gemma had vanished and the RIB was careering across the river totally out of control would haunt her for a very long time. She shivered in spite of the heat.

“I know, but luckily it didn’t come to that. Anyway, I have you to thank for being able to stop that boat,” she told him. While Jonty listened with a horrified expression, she went on to explain how she’d recalled what he’d said about the kill cord and had pulled it to stop the engine.

Jonty’s mouth set in a grim line and he shook his head.

“He should never have put you in that position.” He took her hands in his and held them tightly. “Andi, promise me you won’t go out on a boat with him again.”

Andi was certain Travis Chumley wouldn’t be in a hurry to go out to sea for a while, if ever again. When she’d last seen him staggering into the ambulance, concussed and bruised, he’d been full of apologies and regrets. Apparently his friend from the boatyard would be selling the RIB and Travis was going to take some sea-safety lessons.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “My days of boating with Travis Chumley are well and truly over.”

Jonty’s answering smile was warmer than the sunshine.

“Phew, you have no idea just how happy it makes me to hear that!” he said. Letting her go, he reached down and picked up a bulging carrier bag.

“I’ve brought some bacon and eggs and the morning papers. I thought it might be fun to cook some breakfast and eat it outside? And you really need to see the headlines! I’ve brought a selection of the dailies.”

At the thought of bacon and eggs Andi’s stomach rumbled like Vesuvius. Jonty laughed.

“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?”

She blushed. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday!”

No wonder she had slept for hours. Two big tumblers of brandy on an empty stomach probably hadn’t been the smartest move. At the mere thought of food, she realised she was famished.

“Then it’s high time you did eat,” Jonty was saying sternly. “Why don’t you go and have a shower and it’ll be ready by the time you’re finished.”

Andi didn’t need asking twice. While she lathered herself in Angel’s Chanel shower gel – after yesterday’s shenanigans she figured this was the least her sister owed her – and smothered her curls in deep conditioner, mouth-watering smells of cooked breakfast filled the place. By the time she was finished and feeling human again, Jonty was sitting outside at the weathered picnic table, drinking tea and poring over the papers.

“Tuck in!” he urged, pushing a plate towards her. It was piled high with bacon, sausages, sunshine-yellow scrambled eggs and big buttery field mushrooms. “I picked those this morning,” he added proudly. “The fields are covered in them. Honestly, you won’t taste anything better even if you eat in a Michelin-starred restaurant.”

The mushrooms were brown and plump, underneath as pink as ponies’ noses. They ate in companionable silence and he was right, Andi decided: the mushrooms were amazing. Not worrying in the slightest about whether or not she looked like a greedy pig, Andi polished off the lot and wiped her plate clean with a hunk of bread and butter.

“That was wonderful.” She leant back and put her hands on her full stomach. “I’ll probably never eat again but it was worth it. You’re a great cook.”

Jonty shrugged modestly. “Of fry-ups maybe. Mel says I’ll die of a heart attack. It comes of years of living like a student. “

“And asking girls how they like their eggs in the morning?” she teased.

“You’ve got me! Although, to be honest anything other than scrambled and I’m rubbish. My fried eggs turn to rubber. Jax always had a go at me about my cooking. It drove her demented.”

“Jax likes fry-ups?” Andi couldn’t help herself; she had to ask. When it came to Jax she was wildly curious. She didn’t look as though she ate at all.

He sighed. “Jax wouldn’t dream of eating anything so unhealthy. She’s a bran-and-wheatgrass person. Besides, her personal trainer would kill her if she so much as looked at a sausage. She doesn’t like the same things I do.”

Andi thought that bran and wheatgrass sounded vile. Jonty was so chilled and lacking in airs, whereas the older woman with her
look at me
car
and groomed appearance was clearly high maintenance. They must have something in common though, surely? Apart from their shared business, of course?

“That’s a shame,” she said lightly. “She’s missing out.”

Jonty just nodded. He didn’t seem to want to talk about Jax any more so Andi decided not to probe. Hadn’t he already told her it was “complicated”? Which in man-speak was shorthand for
we’re shagging but not together, even though she thinks we are.
Mel had hinted that she was worried he would take Jax back. Andi sighed. As much as she liked Jonty and enjoyed his friendship, he was still a man at the end of the day and therefore bound to be a total disappointment. Hadn’t she learned anything after Tom? She ought to step back.

“Fry-ups are one of life’s great pleasures,” Jonty said thoughtfully. “As is reading the tabloids when you should know better!”

Andi smiled. This easy banter was familiar ground.

“I won’t tell anyone about your
Daily Mail
habit if you make me more tea,” she told him.

“Phew,” said Jonty. “I thought for a moment my cover was blown. I was only pretending I liked the
FT
! Look, spoil yourself, the
Mirror
’s there too. I’ll go and find the PG tips.”

So while Jonty went to brew some more builders’-style tea – he always made it so strong Andi was amazed the teaspoon didn’t salute her – she pored over the gutter press, her chin practically on the newsprint. Poor Gemma would be mortified when she saw the shots of her bottom! And as for Cal – well, the press were having a field day ripping him to shreds, which seemed a bit harsh when Travis was the one to blame for the entire incident. There was only a brief mention of the cockatiel-haired one (a line or two about him being the Moggy Mix Millionaire), and a blurry shot of Laurence, who was apparently one of Prince Harry’s party set – but there was nothing else of much real interest. Andi flicked through the pages, marvelling at how such a non-story had managed to attract so much attention. She supposed it was down to Cal being a household name. Everything he did generated huge publicity.

Andi just hoped that Gemma knew what she was getting herself into…

She was about to give up on the papers and enjoy basking in the sunshine when a headline caught her eye.

Ben J Teague, Safe T Net Founder, donates £20,000,000 to child vaccine charities

Andi leant forward, suddenly captivated. She knew that when Safe T Net had floated it had made a fortune, catapulting its CEO right to the top of the rich list, and even though she’d been ripped from the project in the worst fashion her interest in the company was still strong. Wow. Twenty million pounds. That was some donation. It made her weekly purchase of the
Big Issue
seem a bit puny. Maybe Aston Martin man wasn’t such a tosser after all? Intrigued, Andi read on, wondering what her old contact PMB would have made of this story.

Teague made a large charitable donation when he pledged £20 million to develop and distribute vaccines. The Safe T Net founder hopes the money, to be spent over the next three years through his new foundation, will save the lives of more than eight million children in the world’s poorest countries.

“We must make this the decade of vaccines,” Teague said. “Vaccines already save and improve millions of lives. Innovation will make it possible to save more children than ever before.”

Andi leant back and cradled her face in her hands thoughtfully. She couldn’t help comparing Benjamin Teague’s actions with those of Travis. Both were worth mind-blowing Monopoly-style silly sums, but whereas Travis spent his on toys, this Benjamin Teague seemed set on doing something worthwhile with his millions. If the work she had done had gone some way towards helping him do this, then she was proud to have been involved.

“What do you think?” Jonty asked, joining her. “Crazy headlines, huh?”

“Bonkers,” Andi agreed, nodding. “But to be honest, I wasn’t reading about that. This caught my eye.”

She turned the paper so that he could see the page she was reading.

“This guy who owns a company called Safe T Net
has just donated millions to charity.”

“Right,” said Jonty. He didn’t sound particularly interested. Andi guessed it didn’t seem very relevant to him.

“I used to work for Safe T Net,” she explained when he didn’t respond. “I was part of a team that helped prepare the company for going public. I spent hours of my life emailing a team there, and I probably talked more to this guy, Project Manager B, than I did to my boyfriend.”

Tea slopped all over the newspaper and the story dissolved before her eyes.

Andi glanced up. Jonty was staring down at her and there was an expression in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said it was fear.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

Jonty swallowed. More tea splashed onto the table and, collecting himself, he put the mugs down slowly. Then he sat down next to her and sighed wearily. Running a hand through his hair – the short cut Mel had advised against was growing out and Andi liked the way curls were starting to brush his ears – he turned to her. He looked troubled.

“What’s the matter?” Andi asked.

Jonty exhaled slowly. “It’s complicated.”

She smiled. “You’re a man. Isn’t it always?”

But he didn’t smile back. Just as she was about to ask him what the matter was, a small van featuring a florist’s logo drew up at the gate. A door slammed and, seconds later, the most enormous bouquet of flowers was walking towards her. It looked as though Kew Gardens was holidaying in Rock.

“Somebody loves you!” announced the florist as he thrust the flowers at her. “Those are the most expensive ones we do!”

Andi opened the card and promptly screwed it up. Travis Chumley. What a surprise. As though a bunch of flowers could make up for nearly killing them all. She shook her head and placed the bouquet carefully on the grass. She didn’t want it or anything to do with Travis. Maybe Angel would like them? Or perhaps she could donate them to the hospital?

“Sorry,” she said to Jonty. “We got interrupted. What were you going to say?”

But Jonty didn’t seem to want to talk anymore. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” She reached out her hand to him. “We’re friends.”

He didn’t take her hand and for a moment it wavered in the air before, feeling foolish, she withdrew it. For once she couldn’t read the expression on his usually open face.

“I have to go,” he said in a strange flat voice that sounded nothing like him. “I’ll leave you to deal with those. Somebody obviously cares about you a great deal.”

And without even giving her the chance to explain, Jonty turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Andi staring after him in confusion. Hadn’t they been having a lovely morning? What, apart from the flowers arriving, had changed?

She pressed her forehead against the table and closed her eyes wearily. All of a sudden her head hurt.

Nothing made sense. What on earth could have happened to upset him so much? Jonty was proving harder to figure out than
The Times
crossword; he was certainly every bit as cryptic. She sighed and pushed her hair behind her ears. There was no time to sit and stress about it now though, however much she might want to; she was supposed to be working this morning and she was already running late. Although Simon was easy-going and probably knew all about yesterday’s trauma, Andi didn’t want to be unprofessional. Gathering up the mugs and plates, she headed back into the caravan to get herself ready for work.

Jonty and his issues, whatever they were, would just have to wait.

Chapter 32

Once the morning’s baking was completed Gemma often took herself off for an hour to get some fresh air and stretch her legs. Normally she would head into the town and down to the water’s edge, where she would kick off her shoes and walk along the beach, loving the sensation of damp sand against her feet and waves tickling her toes. Today though, Gemma decided she’d seen quite enough of the River Camel and the beach for a day or two. Whenever she moved her head, water sloshed around inside her ears. Not only that, but her throat was scratchy with the beginnings of a cold, so a change of scene was definitely in order. Besides, everyone in town was bound to have seen her bum, complete with more dimples than Cheryl Cole’s smile, all over the red tops – and Gemma didn’t think she could face the sniggers and sideways looks.

“Take the afternoon off and have some ‘me time’,” Dee said firmly, untying her own pinny and fixing Gemma with one of her looks. Gemma knew those looks; they said quite firmly that she wouldn’t be argued with. No wonder Dee had become such a force to be reckoned with in the corporate world. She was scary enough just wielding Cath Kidston oven gloves; in a suit she would be terrifying.