Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17) (25 page)

‘Chris, I have told you repeatedly I do not want to holiday in Brazil. I have asked you, repeatedly, not to text me. But you will not do as I ask. Once and for all . . .
no
. Now please leave my house. Right now.’ Fran got to her feet but daren’t step any closer to him because she could sense the feelings she’d had when he was here before already beginning to surface. She thought about the tenderness of his beautiful hands, so sensitive, and it almost killed her to say what she knew she must, ‘Just go away and forget all about me.’

Bonnie took her attention again as she tried to climb up onto a kitchen chair and fell off halfway up.

‘You pay more attention to that blasted kitten than you do to me. Can’t you see it’s you I want? That’s why I’m here. Despite all the work piling up at the office, I’ve come to take you back with me to Rio. Wherever I look, wherever I go, you are always there. I have only to look at a photo of you and I hear your voice, feel you beside me, smell your perfume, hear your laughter. Please, Fran, at the very least give me some of your time.’

‘Chris.’ Fran paused while she threw a little ball across the floor for Bonnie to chase. ‘I have told you, like I said before, I am not interested, I am not going to Brazil, no matter how many times you ask me. You’ve left the front door open, so please just go through it and shut it after you. I don’t want Bonnie out in the road.’

Being determined wasn’t succeeding apparently, so Chris decided to change tack. His last effort must have been too flowery, too passionate for a practical village girl like Fran, though there was less determination in her voice than when he’d first walked in. Maybe rather more charm was required. And so he tried speaking to her more gently. ‘Let’s go to the Wise Man pub like we used to, let’s recapture some of that lovely warmth we had, still have in fact. We were made for each other, we truly were, my darling Fran, please.’ Chris reached out his hand to touch her, but she stepped away from his touch. He took a step closer. ‘What do you say?’

‘What is there to talk about? We can’t talk about how much we love each other can we? We don’t.’

‘We don’t? Why do you think I am here again. Of course I love you. I love every bit of you.’

Fran looked directly into his face for the very first time since he’d walked in. ‘If so, why do you never mention the baby I lost. I didn’t take any drastic steps to get rid of it, it just happened, but I was frightened, scared to death, in fact. I needed you, your support, but it wasn’t there. If my parents hadn’t—’

‘Well,’ he interrupted with a shrug, ‘I mean it wasn’t a baby as such, was it? Just a few cells really, it was so early, barely eight weeks, if that.’

Chris’s callous, thoughtless words shocked Fran to the core. How could he? How could he speak like that about
their
baby. Her silence following this statement made not the slightest impression on Chris. He felt that all he’d done was make a statement of fact, and he couldn’t understand her hurt.

‘You obviously don’t appreciate what the loss of the baby has meant to me. You’ve no compassion, no sorrow, no nothing. Just leave this house, right now, and never come back. Never
ever
come back.’ Fran’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

Chris held out his hands to her. ‘I can’t leave you when you’re so upset.’

‘Oh yes, you can. I’m upset, you’re right there. I know you find it hard to talk about painful things. That was why you sent me the flowers instead of saying—’

‘Flowers? Ah, yes, the flowers.’

He’d looked startled and then tried to look as though he remembered what she meant. And immediately Fran knew it wasn’t him who’d sent them, more likely it had been Johnny. Yes, it wasn’t a Chris Templeton kind of thing to do. So the one redeeming act she thought he’d done, he hadn’t in fact done.

This was the moment when Chris Templeton finally lost the battle.

To prevent Bonnie running out of the front door Fran scooped her up, flung the door wide and waited for Chris to leave. She stood there trying so hard not to break down in tears, endeavouring to ignore his pretence of sympathy. Chris stood in the hall working out the right approach to her. He wanted her, and what he wanted he was used to getting. He’d try another angle. Too late. Beyond his beautiful Fran a shadow appeared which materialised into Grandmama Charter-Plackett.

Grandmama eyed him from head to foot, slowly and deliberately. ‘Hmm. By the looks of it you’ve had your marching orders, young man. So why are you still here?’

Tight-lipped, Chris did his best to appear the suave confident man about town, but he was so angered at his rejection by Fran that he could only stutter, ‘G-good morning, Mrs Charter-Plackett.’

Grandmama looked up at him, totally at ease. ‘Well? I’m waiting. Get out before I send for the police.’

Chris turned to say goodbye to Fran. ‘I shan’t give up. You’re mine, and I’ll be back.’

Grandmama answered on Fran’s behalf. ‘You might be back, but Fran has finally seen the light. You are the very worst of a low-life kind of man: shallow, thoughtless, a user of women for your own gratification as though you’ve a right because you’re good-looking, a fine figure of a man . . .’ She held up her hand. ‘No, don’t even attempt to justify what you have done. There is no excuse for it, none. You say you won’t give up. “I’ll be back”, you said. Well, this granddaughter of mine is as tough and uncompromising as her grandmother, and you can get yourself a season ticket for flying between Rio and London if you wish, you can certainly afford it, but it won’t do you any good because what Fran has said she has said, and that’s an end to it. Well? Is it the police?’ Grandmama began to fumble in her bag for her mobile.

Chris, prior to departing, wagged a finger at Fran, obviously intending to fire a final salvo at her, but Grandmama said loudly, ‘Don’t you dare!’

The two of them watched him roar away in Johnny’s 4×4. Then Grandmama went inside and sharply closed the door. ‘Tom told me, so I came to see that you were all right.’

Tears rolled down Fran’s cheeks. ‘He wants me to go back to Rio with him, but I know I mustn’t. He’ll only break my heart again.’

‘How right you are.’

‘Those flowers we thought he’d sent, he didn’t.’

‘Ah. Give little Bonnie her lunch, the dear little thing, and we’ll go to the Royal Oak and have lunch together. Dry those tears, he’s not worth it, and put it all down to the whole episode being one of life’s challenges. You’ve been so brave, and I admire you very much indeed. Turning him out was exactly the right thing to do. Just get yourself done up, and we’ll be off. I’ll play with Bonnie while I wait. She really is gorgeous, I’m thinking I might get one for myself. Were there any more like her?’

‘Yes, but they were boys. Anyway, I must get back to the store, as there’s only Tom.’

‘No, there isn’t; Jimbo’s back. I have his permission.’

‘What about Bonnie?’

‘Like I said, get her lunch ready but don’t put her lunch down till we’re ready to go, then she’ll eat it and fall asleep while we’re out. She’ll be fine. Believe me. Go on, go up and get ready.’

Privately Grandmama was proud of the way Fran had been firm with Chris. She saw something of herself in the girl, and she was thrilled. Fancy Chris threatening Fran like that. Grandmama got out her mobile and reported to Jimbo what had happened, at the same time as trying to stop Bonnie from plundering her handbag.

The moment Bel got back from lunch duty in the pub dining room Jimbo, in his role as outraged father, headed for the Big House and Chris Templeton. This time he would flatten him; it wouldn’t be five days in the hospital, more like five weeks. He’d reached the end of his tether with the man. Halfway up the drive to Turnham House Jimbo pulled up and turned off the engine. Perhaps it would be better if Johnny dealt with Chris. On the other hand . . . no, it was for the best. Jimbo rubbed his knuckles which were still slightly tender from their previous encounter with Chris’s chin and decided he’d do a three-point turn and park instead outside the Old Barn. He would visit Harriet in her new kitchen.

Best to leave the whole matter in the Templetons’ hands.

When Chris got back to the Big House after his altercation with Grandmama Charter-Plackett he was in two minds. Uppermost was his disappointment at Fran’s strength of mind and her rejection of him; and his fury that he hadn’t got his own way. He always got his own way with women, and he could not recall a single one who had not been charmed by him to the extent they would do exactly as he wanted. There had been the odd angry one that he had decided he was bored with, but mostly he even got his own way about that because they finished up accepting the huge bouquet of flowers he sent them to appease their fury, and the added bonus of making sure there was a piece in the Rio papers – with a superb picture – about the wonderful prize they’d won in some obscure beauty contest or other, or a magnificent picture of the injured party swanning around a fashionable race course on the arm of a handsome beau, sworn to secrecy naturally, especially recruited by Chris from an escort agency.

But this . . .

Fran was so stubborn, and then of all things, being defeated by that old grandma of hers. He had never been defeated before, and most definitely not by a grandma, with or without an acid tongue.

The first person he encountered in the hall was Alice with the two little boys, Ralph in her arms and Charles trotting beside her.

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’

‘Hello, Chris. Everything all right?’

‘No, it isn’t. You rang her didn’t you? Told her I was coming.’

Alice debated her reply and eventually decided the truth was what he needed. ‘Yes.’

‘She’s told me what to do with my first-class fare and what was worse, her granny turned up and did the same. Out of good manners I had to leave.’

‘Of course. Ever the thoughtful chap.’

Chris cast a sceptical glance at Alice and then turned to stare out of the window. ‘The damned weather doesn’t help.’

Alice shifted Ralph across to the other arm. ‘You’ll be going home then?’

She got no reply. ‘I suppose,’ she said.

‘Might as well, there’s nothing happening here.’

‘So, the all-powerful, all-charismatic Chris has been rejected.’

Chris swung round to face her. ‘It’s not funny.’

‘But it is laughable.’ And Alice began to laugh, knowing she shouldn’t. But she couldn’t help it. ‘You’ve learned a lesson at last, Chris, and not before time.’

‘Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that I’m a good catch? Good looks, loads of money. What more can a girl want?’

‘Kindness, understanding, compassion when life is doing the dirty on you? Have you told her how sorry you are about . . .’

‘No, I have not. Heavens above, it was just a few cells coming together; nothing recognisable as a baby for a long while.’

‘It was your baby, Chris, and hers. Just because it wasn’t growing inside
you
doesn’t mean it had no value. You should have gone straight to her and comforted her.’

‘The flowers. Who sent her them pretending they’d come from me?’

‘Johnny.’

‘At your suggestion?’

Alice shook her head. ‘I knew nothing about it. That’s the difference, you see, between you and Johnny. He cares for others, you care only for Chris.’

‘That’s not fair.’

‘That’s how it looks, how it
is
. I’ll just put the baby in his pram, and we’ll sit down and talk. OK?’

The first thing Chris said when they’d settled themselves in the sitting room and Charles was busy digging deep in his box of toys, was, ‘Is that what you think of me, that I care only for myself?’

‘Think about it, Chris. Charles cares only for himself but he’s only one and a bit years old, that’s how he survives; making sure those who care for him do a good job by putting himself at the forefront. At thirty-two you should have grown up, learned how to put other people first without thinking about yourself and how putting them first affects you.’

‘I can’t understand why Johnny likes the idea of everyone in the village having employment. What the blazes does it matter to him? Everyone should get up off their own backsides and find work and make money and then more money. They shouldn’t expect some benign father-figure to give them a job without striving for it.’

‘Chris! Not everyone has the ability to climb to the very top of the ladder. Lots of people have to do what is within their capabilities, like serving in shops, or cleaning the street, or driving a train, or attending to the sewers, or milking the cows, or whatever. The world would fold if they didn’t, and so they’ve got to be respected for what they do.’

‘Mmm.’

‘We all have our part to play. You’ve taken all Fran had to give, and so it’s no wonder she wants nothing more to do with you.’

‘It doesn’t happen in Rio, me being rejected.’

‘That’s because the women you have in Rio aren’t real people. They’re selfish and greedy and think only of your money and what it can do for them; and if you marry someone like that you deserve all you get.’

‘Well, thanks very much. You managed to marry money. Are you selfish and greedy then?’

‘To some extent we all are, every one of us. But lovely human beings keep a sense of proportion about love, and money, and greed. Johnny and I married because we loved each other so much, we couldn’t not get married as nothing less would do for us, if you see what I mean. If anything dreadful happened to Johnny I’d be devastated for the rest of my life.’

Chris stood up and went to look out of the window. The view he had was of the fields, and in the far distance were Home Farm and the lovely old buildings still standing strong after four hundred years. After a short silence, he said, ‘I’ve never been able to understand why Johnny so gladly came here and took all this on. And I never will.’

Alice smiled. ‘Give yourself time and you will. It’s in his bones.’

‘Is it in yours?’

‘I’m getting there. You’re a worthwhile person, Chris, if only you would give yourself a chance.’

‘Me? After what I’ve done to Fran?’