Saving Katy Gray (When Paths Meet Book 3) Read online

  “You mean she’s prepared to work twenty-four/seven for bed and board,” Jack shook his head. “Nobody does that Emlyn, not unless they’re desperate.”

  His friend gave him an indignant look. “I do pay her a wage you know, and it’s a very generous one too, so she’s not exactly Cinderella. Besides, my mother’s house is her home as well, so I can hardly force her leave it twice a week can I?”

  “I guess not but I still think it’s fishy. Where did she work before she came to Corley?”

  Seeing the expression on Emlyn’s face he grinned as he shook his head in despair. “You don’t know do you? As usual you left everything to your poor long suffering secretary while you concentrated on all those legal files that clutter up your office.”

  Refusing to look shamefaced, Emlyn’s response was sharp. “And if I didn’t put them first then you would be in a lot more trouble than you already are with the Forestry Commission, so shall we start discussing that or do you want to waste some more of our valuable meeting time talking about my mother’s companion?”

  Recognizing that Miss Gray was now off the agenda, Jack carried his drink from the bar to a nearby table and sat down. Emlyn followed, and soon they were engrossed in business discussions. As the owner of the Corley Estate, Jack was responsible for a lot of the employment in the area as well as for the impact the thousands of annual visitors had on local traffic, and he relied on Emlyn to smooth his path far more than he cared to admit.

  Emlyn, for his part, regarded Jack and his wife Izzie as the next best thing to family; his mother’s encroaching dementia having demonstrated how quickly fair- weather friends can turn away. Nowadays only a handful of people stopped to ask him how she was, and even fewer offered to help, whereas Jack and Izzie were always there, as was the unfortunate Mary Tomlins. He didn’t let his gratitude get in the way of his legal advice however, not even though his occasional lunchtime business meetings with Jack were the closest he got to a social life nowadays.

  “Can I get you anything else…desert, coffee?” Tony, the landlord, stopped by the table and began to stack their empty plates and glasses.

  Jack grinned at him. “A good try but you’re nowhere near as persuasive as your pretty barmaid. Where is she by the way? I haven’t seen her, or Connie, for that matter.”

  Tony, who was friends with both of them, sank into the chair opposite and sighed. “She left…not Connie…the barmaid. Connie’s on the phone trying to persuade her sister to help out, and if that fails she’s going to move on to the list of people who owe her a favor.”

  “Of whom there are many,” Emlyn said with feeling.

  Tony nodded in agreement as he recalled all the things his busy wife did for other people. The thought prompted him to ask after Emlyn’s mother and he was surprised when the answer was accompanied by a rare smile.

  “She’s much better at the moment thanks to her new companion.”

  “Which is why he’s managed to sit here for forty minutes without continually looking at his watch,” Jack added, as he counted out coins for two cups of coffee.

  Tony scooped them up, picked up the pile of plates and glasses, and made his way back to the bar. A few minutes later he returned with the coffee. As he put the cups on the table he picked up the conversation again.

  “So when are we going to meet her then? Is she going to be like the last one and prop up the bar on her free days…not that I’m complaining because she did wonders for our lunchtime trade.”

  Remembering the shorter than short skirts and long red curls of his mother’s previous companion, Emlyn shuddered. He’d known from the start she was unsuitable but he’d been desperate when he employed her. After almost a month with Katy Gray in charge, however, the misery of those days was beginning to fade. He just hoped she’d stay around long enough for him to persuade his mother to move into a nursing home. Jack, recognizing that his friend’s characteristic introspection was taking over, attempted to lighten the conversation.

  “I don’t think the elusive Miss Gray is like that. She’s more of a home bird by all accounts, who doesn’t appear to want any free time.”

  He chuckled at the disbelieving expression on Tony’s face and then turned back to Emlyn. “See, I told you. Employees always want time off. They’re entitled to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re contravening some sort of European convention on human rights by denying Miss Gray her leisure time.”

  “I’m not denying her anything, she just doesn’t want it,” Emlyn told him with a hint of irritation as he wondered whether Jack was right and if he ought to insist that his new employee took time off. Then he pictured what that would be like…how he would be back to spending hours at his mother’s house trying, very ineffectually, to look after her, while Katy Gray sat in solitary state in her own room waiting for him to leave…and he dismissed the thought.

  Tony and Jack, who had both been watching him, asked the same question in unison. “What’s she like anyway, this Miss Gray?”

  “Katy? I suppose she’s about this big.” He lifted his hand to indicate someone not much more than five feet tall.

  “And…?”

  “And there’s not much else to tell. She scrapes her hair back into some sort of bun and she wears ugly black spectacles that make her look like an owl. She’s a bit fierce too. Definitely not the sort of woman you’d find propping up a bar. Mother seems to like her though.”

  * * *

  In the privacy of her own room, Katy Gray stared at her reflection in the mirror and wondered how much longer she could carry on. It wasn’t the sight of her scrubbed face or the fact that her dark eyes were hidden behind a pair of over-sized spectacles. Nor was it that she had to spend most of her time caring for Mrs. Brooks. It was the stomach-churning anxiety that was getting to her, the worry that very soon Emlyn or his secretary would discover her secret, and that when they did the sanctuary of her new home in Corley would be taken away from her.

  Katy was used to losing things. First her mother, then her father, then her childhood home, her career and her reputation, and finally, and most dreadfully, her identity, so she knew she should be used to it. She wasn’t though and she couldn’t bear the thought of having to leave Oak Lodge and start all over again.

  With something close to a sob she removed her spectacles and rubbed her eyes as she recalled everything that had happened to her in the past few years. How she’d had to bury her mother and then her father. How, still grieving for both of them, she’d tried so hard to make a success of the nursing home that had been her father’s dream, and failed, and in failing lost her job as well as the home she’d lived in all her life. Then, finally, when she thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, how she’d discovered that she wasn’t who she thought she was after all.

  The doorbell interrupted her thoughts and, anxious that it shouldn’t disturb Mrs. Brooks’ afternoon nap, she hurried to answer it.

  * * *

  “I was passing so I thought I’d check everything is okay,” Emlyn said as he followed her into the kitchen.

  “Everything’s fine,” she assured him. “And your mother will be pleased to see you when she wakes up.”

  “That’s not why I’m here…well not exactly. I came over to relieve you for an hour or so because I think you really ought to have a bit of time to yourself.”

  Katy shook her head as she walked across to the sink to fill the kettle. “That’s kind of you but I’m perfectly happy with our arrangement as it stands. As I told you, I’ll let you know when I want some free time.”

  She knew he was looking at her as she busied herself with mugs and spoons and she wondered what sort of plausible excuse she could come up with if he persisted, because telling him that unless she kept herself busy the memories of the past two years overwhelmed her, was not an option. He didn’t though. Instead he propped himself against the kitchen counter and asked her about his mother’s progress. On safer ground, she turned to look at him and found herself apprais
ing his battered appearance from a professional viewpoint.

  It was obvious that his nose had been broken at least once in the past and one of his ears was slightly mangled. The livid scar slanting across his forehead in a jagged line that ended at his eyebrow did little to improve his appearance either, and yet…she stared at him, surprised by how attractive he was up close and personal. Emlyn stared back at her, his long hazel eyes alight with amusement.

  “He apologized afterwards, the doctor who stitched me up. It was a busy Saturday night and he had to deal with a stabbing, an attempted suicide, a girl who’d come off the back of her boyfriend’s motor bike, and a baby with suspected meningitis, so I was a long way down the list. By the time he got to me he was almost asleep on his feet.”

  Katy flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” Then, because she was still embarrassed, she blurted out the first thing that came into her head. “Did you…do you play rugby, because those look like old rugby injuries to me?”

  He grinned. “Ever the nurse. I was a second row forward if that means anything to you.”

  She smiled at him, on surer ground now. “It does. My dad loved rugby and I often went with him to matches…”

  Her voice tailed off as she realized she’d just given something personal away, but if Emlyn noticed he didn’t say anything. Instead he carried the mugs across to the kitchen table and sat down. After a moment’s hesitation Katy filled the teapot and joined him.

  With his long legs sprawled out lazily in front of him, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes against the afternoon sun that was shining in through the window. “So you’re a rugby fan?”

  “I suppose so, although it’s years since I went to a match.”

  “Me too. My excuse is work and my mother’s illness. What’s yours?”

  “I…um…something very similar,” she didn’t offer anything more as she busied herself with the teapot. When she pushed a steaming mug in his direction he opened his eyes and looked at her.

  “What something very similar?”

  “Oh the usual…shift work, weekend working, that sort of thing. And then my father died.”

  He pushed himself upright and cupped both hands around his mug of tea. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter because you know how it feels don’t you?”

  When he looked puzzled, she prompted him. “You’ve lost your father as well.”

  With a grim smile he shook his head. “I’m afraid you’ve got that wrong. My father is very far from dead. He just doesn’t take his marriage vows seriously.”

  “You mean your parents are divorced?”

  “No I don’t mean that. They are still very much married, just living on different continents. After coping with my mother’s illness for about a year he suddenly felt a pressing need to play golf in Florida. Unfortunately, although she forgets a lot of things, she doesn’t forget that. She spends all her time waiting for him to come home again.”

  Remembering her own father’s devotion when her mother became ill, Katy’s heart went out to the man sitting in front of her. “What about the rest of your family? Do you have brothers or sisters?"

  He nodded. “A big shot brother who spends more time in airports than he does at home, and a married sister with four kids who lives in Australia.”

  “So it’s mostly down to you.”

  “Yep, and to you Katy Gray, so don’t you go leaving me in the lurch will you?”

  She smiled at him. “I won’t do that, not without a lot of notice anyway. I…”

  She stopped as Mrs. Brooks came into the room, her hair tousled and her eyes sleepy from her afternoon nap, and as Emlyn watched she changed from almost friendly, slightly defensive Katy Gray into Miss Gray, nurse/companion and housekeeper. He gave a wry smile as she suggested he take his mother for a walk around the garden.

  “She’s been busy in the greenhouse,” she told him. “So you must go and admire her new plants.”

  Promising to do just that he led his mother away but not before he’d given Katy Gray a final admiring glance and wondered when she’d realize she wasn’t wearing her ugly black-rimmed spectacles.

  Chapter Four

  The following day Katy decided it was time to take a trip into Corley because, despite having assured Emlyn otherwise, she was slowly going stir crazy. Not convinced that it was safe to rely on Mrs. Brooks’ directions, she searched the contents of the now tidied kitchen drawers until she found what she was looking for. Spreading the map out on the table she memorized the route and then went to find her.

  She was sitting on the window seat in the small breakfast room that led off from the kitchen, crying as if her heart would break.

  “What on earth is the matter?” Katy gently pried a scrunched up napkin from the older woman’s hand and used it to mop up her tears.

  “He’s never coming back is he?” Mrs. Brooks’ eyes looked red and sore, as if she’d been crying for a very long time. For once the expression in them was entirely lucid and Katy knew she was being tested.

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Emlyn when he visits.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes again. “But that’s the trouble…I forget to ask him when he’s here. I only remember after he’s gone. Will you ask him for me, so you can tell me the truth? I might be able to live with the truth. It’s the not knowing that upsets me.”

  “I’ll ask him,” Katy promised.

  “And you’ll tell me exactly what he says?”

  “I’ll tell you exactly, when you want to know.”

  They smiled at one another then. Katy because she knew that after weeks of reluctant cooperation Mrs. Brooks had finally decided to trust her, and Mrs. Brooks because she knew she’d found a friend she could rely on.

  * * *

  After that the day continued to improve. When she learned they were going to walk to the village, Mrs. Brooks was so delighted that Katy wondered why she hadn’t thought about doing it before.

  “Perhaps we could visit Mrs. Tomlins,” she suggested.

  “And take her some flowers,” Mrs. Brooks agreed, reaching for the secateurs she kept on the kitchen windowsill.

  Thrilled by her response, Katy followed her around the garden, marveling at her enthusiasm as she inspected shrubs and bushes before snipping off their best blooms. By the time she’d finished, Katy’s arms were full of delicate lilies, the fluted cups of sweet smelling freesia, and several other flowers she didn’t recognize. Returning to the kitchen she tipped them gently onto the counter and watched Mrs. Brooks tie them into an old-fashioned posy with a twist of raffia. Then she looked at Katy, her eyes clouded with a painful memory.

  “I was frightened.”

  Recognizing that the proposed visit to Mrs. Tomlins had triggered a memory, Katy didn’t attempt to distract her. Instead she continued the conversation. “I know you were but it wasn’t your fault. She tripped on a broken paving stone.”

  “I used to know what to do.”

  “She understands that and she’s fine, really she is, so you mustn’t worry about it anymore.”

  “I should have stayed with her…he said he was going to mend it but then he went away,” Mrs. Brooks’ damaged brain made a sudden link between the broken path and her missing husband. Wanting to know more so she could better understand the occasional rages that afflicted her, Katy asked why he’d gone away. The older woman gave her a look of despair as she tried to explain.

  “I think it…I made him angry when I lost something.”

  “What did you lose?”

  “I forget what he said…but he wouldn’t let me drive it any more…or go to…anywhere.”

  As she listened to Mrs. Brooks’ garbled recollection of her husband’s behavior Katy experienced a growing anger. Although it was mainly directed at the man whose apparent indifference to his wife’s illness was tearing her apart, it was also directed at Emlyn. Why hadn’t he mentioned his father’s defe
ction earlier? And what about the rest of the family, the sister in Australia, the brother whose job kept him out of the country? He should have told her about them when he interviewed her, and about anything else that might upset his mother? One thing was for sure; the next time he visited Oak Lodge he was going to have far more than a cup of tea and a trip to the greenhouse to contend with.

  * * *

  Mrs. Tomlins, when she opened the door, was so pleased to see them that Katy felt ashamed they hadn’t visited sooner. Admittedly getting Mrs. Brooks settled into a routine had been her first priority, but she should have realized how important it was for the two women to meet one another again after the trauma of the accident. Mrs. Tomlins wasn’t interested in discussing her stitches or whether she was still suffering from headaches, however. Instead, with a cry of delight she took the proffered flowers and buried her nose in them.

  “Freesia! You’ve remembered how much I love them. You certainly haven’t lost your touch Penny.”

  “I decided to let the purple freesias do the talking and keep everything else white and cream,” Mrs. Brooks explained, sounding entirely rational as she followed her friend through to a cheerful kitchen that had a whole wall dedicated to children’s paintings, and which was redolent with the smell of baking.

  The two women carried on talking about the flowers as Mrs. Tomlins filled a vase with water and set it on the table. Then, to Katy’s surprise, Mrs. Brooks took over; carefully unraveling the raffia she had used to tie the posy so that she could place the flowers into the vase one by one. Mrs. Tomlins nodded approvingly before turning to Katy.

  “The displays in her shop window were always amazing. Quirky too. One day it might be a watering can full of peonies. The next day it might be a single flower in an antique vase. You never knew what you were going to see, which is why people always stopped to look.”