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

  Emlyn’s face was grim when he finally turned around and looked at her. “That would have been good advice if he’d just borrowed the amount he needed for the renovations. Unfortunately Mr. Cole persuaded him to take out a much bigger mortgage and put the surplus into a so-called foolproof investment. I expect he told him it would produce such high returns in a relatively short time that your father would soon have enough money to extend the nursing home into something much more than his original dream."

  Katy didn’t answer but her eyes widened as she digested what he’d just told her. He gave an inward sigh, wishing he didn’t have to trample on her memories but knowing there was no other way. “My guess is that your father wasn’t much of a business man.”

  She shook her head, her lips trembling slightly. “He was a dreamer.”

  “And naive?”

  She began to bristle. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because there are three sorts of people who fall for the type of investment Peter Cole offered him: the very wealthy who can afford to take a risk, the very greedy who are prepared to, and the gullible. From what I’ve been able to find out so far I don’t think you father was either of the first two.”

  “No, he wasn’t, but that doesn’t make him gullible either. It was entirely my fault that the nursing home didn’t cover its costs at the beginning. If I’d been better at budgeting we wouldn’t have spent the years until he died playing catch up.”

  Knowing that what he was about to tell her was going to be painful Emlyn moved back to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Sit down Katy, please.”

  Although she did as he asked, she scowled at him. “My father did everything he could to keep the nursing home going and I saw what it meant to him…what struggling to pay the bills every single week did to him…so I’m not going to let you blacken his name.”

  “I’m not trying to, but you need to understand what happened.”

  “I know what happened. I messed up, so you don’t need to rub it in. If I’d talked to my father about it I’d have understood the strain he was under, but I didn’t. Instead I just took the extra money he gave me whenever I asked for it because I believed him when he told me that all new businesses have problems at the beginning and that it would soon be all right.”

  Emlyn didn’t comment. Instead he asked her another question. “Did your father know that Peter Cole worked for a financial investment company and that his job was to sell investment plans?”

  She looked slightly bewildered. “I don’t know, but even if he did I don’t see why it matters. Surely someone like that was the right person to advise him.”

  “I’m afraid not. What your father needed was an independent financial adviser, someone who wasn’t trying to make money out of him. Peter Cole had an agenda. Although he earns a good salary he has expensive tastes, so he’s always looking for ways to boost his income. The year your father told him he needed to raise some money Mr. Cole was thousands of pounds short of his sales target, which meant he was going to miss out on the very substantial annual bonus he always relied on to keep himself afloat. To him, your father’s naivety was a heaven sent opportunity. If he could persuade him to take out a mortgage on his house for considerably more than he needed and then invest the surplus in a high risk, high return investment, he would not only achieve his sales target, he would earn a very big bonus.”

  “But I don’t understand. Why would he do something like that?”

  Steeling himself against her stricken expression, he answered her question. “I already told you, for money. He desperately needed that bonus because he was living way above his means.”

  “So he took my father’s money to save himself?”

  “More or less because although there was a slight chance the investment would eventually pay out what it promised, he must have known your father wouldn’t be able to wait that long. The monthly repayments were far too steep for someone relying on the profits of a new business, but by the time your father discovered the problem and asked for his money back he found out that early cancellation carried a huge financial penalty, one that he couldn’t possibly afford.”

  Seeing her growing confusion, he chose his words carefully. “If he’d just borrowed what he needed he would have been able to afford a modest mortgage repayment. The nursing home fees would have covered it. Instead he borrowed a great deal more, far more than he could ever have hoped to pay back even if the nursing home had twice as many beds and they were always full, which is why he used up all his savings, and why there was nothing left in the nursing home account when he died.”

  “I don’t believe you. He wouldn’t do something as stupid as that…he…we were just unlucky.”

  “I wish I was wrong but I’m not, and for what it’s worth, I don’t think he was stupid Katy. Although I can’t tell you why he took such a risk, I can hazard a guess. Peter Cole, his so-called friend, told him to leave all the business decisions to him and just concentrate on turning his house into a nursing home, didn’t he?”

  When she didn’t answer, he prompted her. “Am I right?”

  Her eyes were full of misery when she nodded. “Renovating the house was what he really enjoyed, so he was only too happy to hand over the finances to someone else. He was a shipwright you see. He’d spent his whole life fitting out beautiful ships for wealthy people. And in the evenings and at weekends he made things for my mother. The house was full of beautifully made furniture as well as smaller things like lamps and ornaments. Once he even made her a beautiful wooden bangle for her birthday. He worked on the house a lot too. When he built the conservatory he told her that although he didn’t earn much at least he made sure she lived in five star accommodation.”

  “A talented man then.”

  “Very talented, and he loved it…working with wood I mean. He used to make me wonderful toys. I had the best dollhouse ever and a rocking horse. Lots of people used to plead with him to make things for them, for money, but he wasn’t interested. As long as he earned enough to pay the bills he was happy, and my mother felt the same. Of course they didn’t have mortgage payments to worry about because they owned the house, so it was easy for them to think that way. I didn’t realize when I was growing up but now I do.”

  “Indeed, and it also explains why your father was so easily duped by Peter Cole, so don’t think too badly of him. If he’d lived for a few more years he might even have found a way for it to work out for you both.”

  “But he didn’t did he, and now I understand why, I’ll always blame Peter Cole. If my father hadn’t been so worried and stressed he wouldn’t have had the massive heart attack that killed him before I even had time to say goodbye, would he?”

  Hearing the pain in her voice he allowed his concern to override common sense again as he reached across the table and took both of her hands in his own. “You mustn’t think like that, not when you can never know the truth. Your father might have had that heart attack anyway.”

  With her eyes firmly fixed on their clasped hands she shook her head. “I can’t help it.”

  “You must. Being bitter about it won’t bring him back. I’m sure he’d rather you moved on, especially now you know it wasn’t your fault. He’d want you to make a new life for yourself.”

  “I…that’s what I’m trying to do, but it’s so difficult without money,” her head was still bowed.

  He squeezed her fingers. “That’s the other thing I have to tell you. There’s a slight chance I can get some compensation for you. It might not work because your father was the one who was mis-sold the investment package, not you, and it will be almost impossible to prove that he didn’t know what he was buying into. It’s worth a try though.”

  “Really?” Her eyes were wide as she finally raised her head and looked at him.

  “Really. So how about it? Will you let me try?”

  Pulling her fingers away from his she sat back in her chair, out of reach, her face suddenly full of conflicting emotions
. “Why Emlyn? Why do you want to do this for me when you have so many problems of your own?”

  Swallowing the words he wanted to say, he shrugged. “Maybe because you’ve already made my life a thousand times easier than it was, or maybe because I don’t like injustice. Take your pick. All I know is that you’ve nothing to lose, not now you’ve been declared bankrupt and evicted from your home.”

  “Investigating my private life wasn’t part of the deal.” Katy jumped up so quickly she knocked over her chair. Ignoring it, she glared at Emlyn, her face suffused with anger.

  Looking up at her he shook his head. “I didn’t probe into your private life Katy, I merely followed the Internet links to the nursing home and they led me to the listed owners and, eventually, to the court order that evicted you. You must know that stuff like that is on the public record.”

  Only very slightly mollified, she nodded. “I…it’s why I’m making a new start a long way away from where it all happened. I don’t want to be around people who know how badly I messed up.”

  He stood up and leaned on the table so their eyes were level. “Haven’t you heard a word I said? You didn’t mess up, your father did, thanks to Peter Cole… and for the record I won’t be telling anyone else about any of this so you can carry on with your new life in Corley without worrying about it. It’s between the two of us…you and your lawyer. Okay?”

  She stared at him for a long time and then she nodded, her eyes wide with relief. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled at her and then bent down and picked up the chair, wondering as he did so how much longer he could go on pretending she was just another client when all he wanted to do was pull the pins from her hair so he could see the real Katy Gray.

  Chapter Eight

  Things were quiet for the next few days, especially once the first of the catalogues began to arrive, and finally, with Mrs. Brooks happily engaged, Katy had time to tackle the dining room. First she emptied the drawers one by one and sifted through their contents. Most of them held nothing more interesting than old receipts, balls of string, rubber bands, out-of-date flyers and pamphlets, and a general mess of broken pencil leads, dried up pens and bent paperclips. Only two of them contained letters and documents that she thought might be important and she put these to one side while she concentrated on filling trash sacks with rubbish. Then she dusted and polished the wooden furniture and attacked the upholstered dining chairs with a bowl of hot, soapy water and a scrubbing brush.

  By lunchtime she had accomplished enough to begin to think about moving things. She mentioned it to Mrs. Brooks as they sat together at the kitchen table eating chicken salad sandwiches. To her relief the older woman was enthusiastic as well as halfway rational.

  “It’s needed doing for a long time,” she said. “And if we do it now it’ll be clean and tidy for when John comes home.”

  Knowing better than to pursue a conversation about her absent husband, Katy hastily changed the subject. “How about we store some of the furniture in the garage until you decide what you want to do with it?”

  Mrs. Brooks frowned at her. “We can’t do that. The car is in the garage.”

  “No, it isn’t. Not any longer. The garage is empty.”

  “Has someone stolen it?”

  The look of confusion on Mrs. Brooks’ face was pitiful but Katy knew she had to harden her heart. Sympathy wasn’t what was needed. Instead she had to help her come to terms with the things she had lost, including the independence her car had given her.

  She shook her head. “No. Your...um…family decided you didn’t need it anymore.”

  “Emlyn sold it didn’t he? He sold it so I couldn’t get to my shop. I can’t get to my shop without my car.”

  With a sudden flash of inspiration Katy held out her hand. “Emlyn didn’t sell it, somebody else did, but it doesn’t matter because you don’t work in your shop any more. You work here now, so let’s go outside and see what would look best in the dining room, because you’ll need a vase of flowers for the big table once we’ve moved out some of the other stuff.”

  After a moment’s hesitation while she thought about Katy’s suggestion, Mrs. Brooks allowed herself to be led down the garden to the large greenhouse. The doors were open to let in the cooling breeze, as was the skylight, and the slatted staging was full of healthy, well cared for plants. Underneath there was a row of neatly stacked sacks of fertilizer and potting compost. There were flowerpots too, each one scrubbed clean, and beside them was small container full of plastic labels and a marker pen. As always, Katy marveled at the order and cleanliness. The floor was swept and the secateurs and small trowel in the bucket beside the door were sharp and well maintained. Despite her growing confusion Mrs. Brooks hadn’t forgotten how to care for her plants and probably wouldn’t do so for a very long time, if ever. Working with flowers was her lifeline and Katy renewed her resolve to make it central to her daily life once again. She would ask Emlyn if he knew of any church groups who needed help, or maybe Mrs. Tomlins would be better. The thought of Emlyn having any information about a flower arranging group made her smile and she was still smiling when Mrs. Brooks pulled her hand from hers and waved, her face alight with pleasure.

  Surprised, Katy swung round and saw Izzie coming down the path towards them. “I hope you don’t mind me using the side gate,” she called. “I rang the doorbell and when nobody answered I decided to see if you and Mrs. Brooks were in the garden.”

  Smiling in welcome, Katy brushed back a stray curl that had escaped the confines of its restraining pins thanks to her exertions in the dining room, while Mrs. Brooks folded Izzie into a hug that she returned with enthusiasm. “I’ve come to invite you both to tea,” she said.

  Katy, slightly in awe of the fact that someone so famous had taken the trouble to remember her earlier invitation and follow it up, thanked her profusely. Izzie chuckled when she saw the bemused expression on her face.

  “I can see that people have been talking. Forget Bella Blue, Katy. In Corley I’m just Izzie, so you can stop looking like that and tell me which day suits you.”

  Embarrassed that she hadn’t been able to hide the remnants of her teenage crush, Katy blushed. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “Because I’ve seen that look too many times on too many faces to mistake it. It comes with celebrity and it gets in the way of making friends unless I confront it straight away. We are going to be friends, aren’t we?”

  Slightly taken aback by Izzie’s plain speaking, Katy didn’t answer immediately. Instead she wondered how she could possibly be a friend to someone as exotic and famous as Bella Blue, because as far as she was concerned that’s who she was, whatever else she called herself. Recognizing her conflicted thoughts Izzie gave a wry smile.

  “Stop worrying about it and say you’ll come up to the Hall on Friday. Emlyn has a meeting with Jack at two o’clock, so he can bring you both.”

  Realizing that she was beginning to look ungrateful, Katy nodded. “I’d love to but only if it’s okay with Emlyn.”

  “That’s agreed then. Good.” With a smile of satisfaction she redirected her attention to Mrs. Brooks.

  Half an hour later, her arms full of flowers, she left, but not before paying the money the older woman demanded, and waiting for a scribbled receipt.

  Katy followed her to the gate with a wry expression on her face. “I’m sorry about that. I’m afraid it’s my fault because when she started to get upset about losing her shop I distracted her by telling her that she works here now. Unfortunately she seems to have taken me literally.”

  “Don’t worry about it, just buy her something nice with the money or, better still, let her reinvest it in some more plants for her garden. Losing Penny’s Posies was the worst thing that could have happened to her because it was her passion. It was the one thing that kept her pegged to reality, so if you’ve managed to persuade her she’s working again, then that’s good.”

  “You really thi
nk so?”

  “I know so. Look Katy I know it’s not my place to tell you this but you’ve taken on a real mess here. Before you arrived Jack and I were very worried about Emlyn because he’s been struggling for a long time, and not just because of his mother’s illness either. When he decided he could only cope with her by moving back to Corley it badly affected his career and his relationships. Although he’s not likely to tell you himself, he exchanged a glittering career in the city for a tiny branch of a shared law practice that doesn’t begin to stretch his very considerable intelligence, and on top of that his glamorous girlfriend ditched him the moment he told her he was leaving London. His life has been hell for the past year and the future doesn’t look too good either, so we’re delighted that you’ve managed to relieve his burden a bit. Thankfully, you’re very different from all of Mrs. Brooks’ previous companions.”

  Not able to explain how she had not only added to Emlyn’s burden by blurting out her own problems, but that she had also failed a lot of other people with dementia in a way that was even worse than the women she was talking about, Katy bit her lip. Thank goodness Emlyn had promised not tell anyone about her past. Izzie would feel differently about her if she really knew her. She shuddered at the thought of it.

  Noticing her silence, Izzie glanced at her. She was hiding something. What had Jack said when he’d come back from the hospital with Tommy...that she looked as if she was hiding behind her spectacles. Well today she wasn’t wearing spectacles but there was still something elusive about her, a vulnerability that she recognized because, in the past, before she met Jack, she’d been there herself.

  Knowing she couldn’t pursue it irked her. There was something about Katy Gray that she liked, something familiar too. It was almost as if they’d met before. She gave an inward shrug as she dismissed the thought because it was something that happened often. She’d met so many thousands of people during her career that she had given up trying to match names to faces. She might even have seen her at one of her concerts because, from the look on her face earlier, it was clear that she had once been a fan…maybe still was. Well it wouldn’t last long, not once she visited the Hall and saw how ordinary Izzie’s life was now she was a mum. The thought reminded her of her small son and she gave a cry of mock horror.