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Sheba and Leah drifted out of school in a crowd of chattering girls occupied with mobile phone conversations, sending text messages, eyeing up the boys, and discarding items of superfluous uniforms.

Leah shook her head. “I don’t think I can. You know what my dad’s like about me staying out late on school nights. Besides, I’d die if he insisted on coming to pick me up.”

“We’re only going to hang out on the beach. No biggie. But if you’re too young to be trusted out alone, it don’t matter to me.” Sheba shrugged. “I just thought it might be a laugh, that’s all.”

“It’s not that, Sheba. You know I want to come.”

“Then pretend you’re having an early night or something and then sneak out. Or don’t you dare?”

“Of course I dare.” Leah lifted her chin defiantly. “I’ll be there!”

But Leah’s bold response didn’t even register with Sheba. Instead she was looking at a man leaning against the fence outside their school, watching the kids. He was quite fit, but old. At least forty. He didn’t look like a pervert. Not that Sheba had any clear idea what one was supposed to look like, but she thought they were required to wear old macs with questionable stains down them and have greasy hair and shifty eyes.

She lost interest in the guy and turned back to Leah, ready to entertain herself by goading her a little more. But before she’d even opened her mouth, something made her look again. The man appeared to be smiling directly at her. The smile made his eyes crinkle in the corners in a manner that stirred something in the recesses of her brain. His hair was long, curling over the collar of his shirt, his eyes an unusual shade of brown. His body was deeply tanned, as though he spent a lot of time working outside. There was something about him that made her continue to stare. She couldn’t put her finger on quite what it was. She thought perhaps it was to do with her dad.

Sheba’s heart lurched when she thought about the father she idolized but hadn’t seen for more than six years. He lived on the mainland, and for reasons she consistently refused to explain, her mother had made him promise not to come near her or Malik. It was
so
unfair. She was old enough now to be told what the problem was between them. What had he done to upset her mother so badly? If she knew what was going on, she’d be able to make up her own mind about whether she wanted to see him.

“Sheba?”

Sheba blinked. She’d never forgotten the distinctive tone of his voice. She’d been hearing it in her dreams since the day they’d left the only place she’d ever thought of as home. That fateful day when her bitch of a mother had pretended they were going away on holiday and that they’d see their dad when they got there. She’d tricked her and Malik into leaving without even giving them the opportunity to say goodbye.

“Dad?” She blinked for a second time and slowly approached the man, shaking off Leah’s restraining hand. “Dad, is that really you?”

He opened his arms and, oblivious to the curious expressions on the faces of her friends, she hurtled herself into them.

“Hey, pumpkin, how you doing?”

Sheba’s eyes filled with tears. “Dad, oh Dad, I’m so glad to see you! I’ve missed you so much.” She snuggled a little closer. “I’ve got so much to tell you.”

When Angela got home that evening, exhausted after a full afternoon’s work and dispirited by Jack’s failure to appear at the salon, she didn’t think her day could get any worse. Then she entered her sitting room and stopped dead in her tracks. How wrong she had been!

The twins were cozily ensconced on the sofa, one on either side of her ex-husband, roaring their heads off at something he was saying to them.

“What’s going on?”

The laughter ceased abruptly and three heads turned in her direction. Angela gulped back her fury, conscious of the delight the twins took in their father’s presence and reluctant to fight with him in front of them.

“Are you all right, Mum?” Malik asked, his lingering smile fading.

Angela wasn’t even aware her son had spoken. Her brain was in overdrive as myriad possible explanations for her husband’s presence raced through her. Horrified, her gaze was glued to his face as she swallowed her apprehension and struggled to remain calm.

“What’s going on?” she asked for a second time in a voice that sounded high-pitched and most unlike her own. “What the hell are you doing here, Rod?”

Chapter Four

E
D
W
AS
F
ULL
O
F
H
IMSELF
when he and Stella left the club. Even the knowledge that his manager was unable to evict the non-rent-paying tenants from one of his flats in Southend wasn’t enough to dampen his spirits. Stella’s heart plummeted. The only thing worse than Ed’s violent spells was his attempt to make amends afterward. That almost always involved some outdoor sexual exploit guaranteed to leave her both unfulfilled and rigid with embarrassment. Stella choked on a sigh. If she lived to be a hundred she’d never understand why her husband was driven by this constant need to publicly demonstrate his dominance over her.

“We’ll be able to make something decent out of that club now, darlin’, you just mark my words. That Colin seems to be a decent chap and agrees with a lot of my ideas. All we have to do now is find a way to foist Trina out of the chairman’s position, get me appointed in her place, and there’ll be no stopping us.”

“But don’t you think—”

“I think you and me make a great team. Once we’re in charge, with Colin reporting to me, there’ll be no end to what we can achieve.”

Stella stifled a derisive snort. “But Ed, are you sure you’ve got time for all the extra responsibility? I mean, what with things not going so well with the properties right now. Don’t you think we’ve got enough on our plate?”

He scowled at her. “What is it with you? Why do you always have to bring that up?”

Stella was starting to wonder the same thing herself. Ed’s burning ambition to rise above his humble origins and earn acceptance by the club’s hierarchy consumed him. Not that it would ever happen. She’d overheard the powers that be laughing between themselves at his social-climbing antics. Jack, on the other hand, didn’t try to make an impression. Nor did he give a toss what people thought of him. Seeing how popular that made him drove Ed demented.

“It’s just that we do so much at the club already. You know as well as I do how time-consuming it can be.” Stella quaked when she observed the rigid set to his features, but somehow found the courage to plough on. “Besides, it’s a thankless task. You can never hope to please everyone.”

He pulled into their driveway and engaged the handbrake with enough force to make the whole car shudder. “How about offering me a little support instead of criticizing and making me look an idiot in front of everyone else?”

Stella was tempted to point out that he didn’t need any help in that respect. “But I didn’t do—”

“Is that too much to ask?”

She sighed and all the fight left her. “Of course not, but the club’s bound to change if we do this. We’ll force people to take sides. Some of the best players will leave, and we won’t be such a strong force anymore.”

“Leave the club? Are you mad?” Ed stared at Stella as though she’d sprouted a second head. “Who’d be stupid enough to voluntarily give up membership of that place? They might whine, but they’ll soon get over it. I mean, where else would they go?”

“There are other clubs.”

“Not in Porchfield’s class. Anyway, if you mean Jack, good luck to ’im. He’s too big for his boots, and we’d be better off without him.”

“Why are you so anti-Jack?” Stella hadn’t meant to say the words aloud, but something made her blurt them out. “He’s a good player and a nice bloke.”

Stella expected Ed to explode, but much to her astonishment his response was almost reflective, as though he was measuring his words and trying to be fair.
That would be a first!
She stifled a smile, wondering if she ought to speak her mind more often.

“He’s a fraud,” Ed said. “He has to be. I know how much that bloody penthouse must have cost him. He drives a top of the range Jag, never seems to do any work, and no one knows where he got his wedge. He’s only in his forties. How can he afford to retire?”

“He goes to the mainland sometimes. Presumably, he works from there. Or from home. People do, nowadays, what with the Internet and all.”

Ed snorted. “So how come he never tells anyone what he actually does? It ain’t natural. We all talk about what we do when we get in the bar.” Stella nodded. Ed had a point, but as far as she was concerned, it was no one’s business but Jack’s. Besides, a bit of mystery made him even more attractive. “Anyway, I think Porchfield would be better off without ’im. If ’im and some of his cronies go, there’ll be places in the teams for the rest of us.”

So that was part of his thinking. She should have known. Ed had been trying to wangle his way onto the men’s team for months. Stella had no difficulty in believing he’d break up the club as they knew it and take control himself to get his way. An insane move, doomed to failure.

In other words, typical Ed.

“But we’re not good enough for the teams.”

“Course we are, and anyway, the new coach’ll put us through our paces and improve our games. That’s his job. I plan to split the membership into two groups so we don’t get stuck playing with the weaker players on club mornings. Should have been done months ago when I first suggested it. All standards’ll benefit from it.”

Stella gave up. All she’d done was rile her husband without even managing to get her point across. She should have tried to explain that she dreaded being in a position of command at the club. He’d never allow her to stay on the sidelines and would expect her to back him up as he attempted to lord it over the members, further alienating the influential golfers. His being in charge would make him even more unpopular, and the one oasis of calm she’d carved out for herself in this otherwise nightmare scenario that passed for her life would change beyond recognition.

“Are you with me on this, Stella?” he asked.

“Yes, I suppose. I worry about you sometimes. You do too much. We came over here to relax, remember?”

“Which is precisely what you do all bloody day. It’s about time you thought about me for a change.”

Stunned by the injustice of his words, Stella quelled her resentment by maintaining a dignified silence. Ed dictated her every move, knew where she was every second of every day. He even went shopping with her and picked out her clothes. He selected skirts that were too short for her age, tops that groaned across her full breasts, exposing inches of flesh across a midriff that would be better off hidden away. She felt like a cheap tart and probably looked like one too. He never allowed her to go out on the town with the girls, and had long ago killed off any desire she’d had to act impulsively.

“Yes, well.” She released the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding when his mood lightened.

“If you want to help, you can start by keeping that daughter of ours under control.”

“She’s at an awkward age,” Stella said. “She’ll settle down once she’s found her feet.”

Her answer appeared to satisfy Ed and he flashed a smile. “You did real well today when we played Jack. Did everything right. I was proud of you. Did you see his face?” Ed roared with laughter. “He wasn’t looking quite so superior when Trina blew the whistle.”

“We played well.”

“Don’t suppose he’ll be so quick to dismiss us next time.” Ed headed for the bedroom. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s a great afternoon. Let’s sit in the garden and make plans for taking over the club. Mike and Mill are in our corner. They feel the same way we do about Trina and her cronies. If we can get Joe and Claire to listen, we’ll be well on the way to convincing everyone else who matters.”

Ed shed his clothes and wandered, naked, into the garden. The fence was low, and if their neighbors happened to be about they couldn’t fail to see, which was the whole point, of course. Stella would have liked to have worn a complete bikini for once, but knew Ed would only remove it if she did, probably taking the opportunity to give her another back-hander for being such a prude. Making do with the bottom half only, she reluctantly followed her husband outside, where he was already stretched full length on a sun lounger.