Chapter Twenty-Six
With the heating on full at Fox Lodge, I wandered into the kitchen and filled the kettle, thinking sadly that I could make the tea as strong as I wanted—there was no one to stop me, anymore. There was no one to stop me doing anything. I was, in the words of Great Uncle Charles's solicitor, a very wealthy young woman.
Despite all his threats, my uncle had left me Fox Lodge, after all, along with the fairly substantial sum of money from the sale of his construction company that hadn't gone on his house. He hadn't exactly been a big spender, so there was plenty of it. I could do anything I liked, really. Take a year off work and go travelling. Spend next Christmas in New York. Certainly, there was more than enough to turn Fox Lodge into the home of my dreams.
I heaped three spoonfuls of tea into the teapot and sighed. It seemed wrong to even be thinking about doing anything to Fox Lodge, right then, with Great Uncle Charles so recently gone. He must have cared about me, after all. Apart from small sums to my mother and Olivia, I'd inherited everything.
My sister hadn't seemed in the slightest bit surprised, and had shrugged it off when I told her I was sorry.
"What for? You went to see him all the time. I barely saw him from one year to the next. Who else was he going to leave it to? Besides, I'm chuffed to bits that he left me and Mum five grand each. That was a real surprise. We're going to have a smashing Christmas, after all. Kit Carroll can stuff his Christmas bonus up his turkey's arse."
She'd laughed and hugged me, and I knew things were all right between us. There was no bitterness, no resentment. I was very lucky to have my family. After all, they were all I had in the world.
Glancing around that crematorium yesterday, I'd realised that, like Great Uncle Charles, I would barely have anyone who'd want to say a final goodbye to me. The dismal funeral had been a glimpse of my future, and it’d filled me with a dread that no amount of money could shift.
I poured two mugs of tea, and had just carried them into the sitting room, when there was a knock on the door. Kit was bang on time.
He followed me into the room and sat down, when I indicated the sofa.
I took the chair opposite—Great Uncle Charles's chair—and eyed him suspiciously. "Your tea," I said, nodding at the mug on the coffee table between us.
"Thanks." He reached over and picked up the mug, cradling it in his hands and making no attempt to drink it. "Lovely and warm in here," he said, sounding nervous. "Absolutely bitter out there." He glanced around. "So, this was your uncle's house?"
"It was," I said. "It's mine now."
He raised an eyebrow. "Yours? He left it to you? Wow."
"There's a lot to do to it, of course," I said hurriedly. "It's not as classy as Fell House, but it will be beautiful when I've renovated and furnished it. It's a lot of work, but I'm looking forward to it."
"Right. Right. It's not far from my old home—where me and Jack lived with Mum and Dad before Grandad died, and we moved into Fell House." He glanced down at his tea for a moment, then back up at me. "There's nothing between me and Seffy, Marley."
I felt my throat tighten. "Who said there was?"
"I saw it in your face, and in your actions, ever since you saw us that night. You've pulled away from me again. She's just a friend."
"A friend you made after you abandoned me."
He stared at me. "I didn't abandon you! How can you say that?"
"Because it's true." There, it was out in the open, this huge thing that had been between us the whole time. "You said you loved me, but you left, anyway, even though you knew I didn't want you to go."
"But I wanted you to come with me! I begged you to come with me! I didn't want to leave you, but you knew I had to go. The way things were between me and my father ..."
"Which you never mentioned before then," I pointed out. "As far as I knew, you were one big happy family."
"Jesus, if you couldn't pick up the clues about our relationship from the things I'd said, or the way I'd kept you away from him for two years, there was something wrong with you. Maybe if you'd actually cared enough about me to pay attention to me, instead of plotting and scheming to become Lady of Fell House, you'd have realised how bad things were, and how desperate I was to get away from him."
I couldn't believe it! "Lady of Fell House? What the hell do you mean by that?"
"You," he said, sounding bitter. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? That's the reason you went out with me. Money. You thought I was your ticket to a posh house and that sodding sports car you always wanted."
"Bloody hell, not the sports car again! I was eleven years old! Are you insane? If you really believed I only went out with you for the money, why go out with me, at all?"
"I've often asked myself that very question," he snapped.
We glared at each other. Well, this was going well.
"Maybe I should just—" he began, then broke off at a loud banging on the front door.
I stood up. "I don't know who that would be," I said, a bit nervous.
It was dark outside, after all, and everyone local knew Great Uncle Charles had passed away. Did they also know I was the new owner? It could be anyone.
"Do you want me to get it?" Kit asked, as if reading the anxiety in my face.
I drew myself up, determined not to show him I needed him. "It's fine. I'll go," I assured him, but added, "You wait there," as an insurance policy. I didn't want him clearing off home and leaving me with God knows who.
As I pulled open the front door, it was as if someone had pressed rewind on my life. I stared in shock at my father, who stood on the doorstep, a cheery smile on his face, as if he'd just popped round for a cup of tea and hadn't been missing from my life for the last sixteen years.
"Marley, love. Don't you look all grown up!"
Considering I'd only been fourteen the last time he saw me, it was no wonder that I looked grown up to him. I was grown up. I was thirty years old. For some annoying reason, though, I no longer felt it. As I looked into his eyes, I was fourteen again, and I couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. I just stared at him, completely tongue-tied.
He grinned at me. "Bit of a shock, eh? Look, are you going to invite me in? Only, it's bloody freezing out here."
I blinked and stepped aside. "Yeah, yes, of course. Come in."
Kit half stood, as I led my father into the sitting room. Dad stopped, eyeing Kit warily. "Have I interrupted something?"
"Not at all," I said firmly. "Dad, this is Christopher Carroll. Kit, this—this is my dad."
The two men gaped at each other, and it was hard to say who looked most surprised.
"Christopher Carroll? Well, there's a turn up for the books," Dad said eventually. He turned to me, clearly puzzled. "Are you two together, then?"
Kit and I shuffled awkwardly. "Perhaps I should leave you both to it," Kit said. "You must have a lot to talk about."
I'd been about to say that was probably a good idea, but my father got there first. "That's right. Me and Marley have things to discuss in private, so if you don't mind."
Something snapped inside me. Who the hell did he think he was, acting all high-handed like that? He couldn't just waltz back into my life and take over. As Kit moved towards the door, I put my hand on his arm. He looked at me, surprised.
"Sit down, Kit," I said. "Whatever my dad has to say to me, he can say it in front of you."
Clearly, my expression revealed my inner thoughts, because after a moment's hesitation, he sat down again.
Dad tutted. "Like that, is it? Fair enough."
He sat down on Great Uncle Charles's chair, which infuriated me, forcing me to sit beside Kit on the sofa. I watched him as he glanced around the room, his gaze taking in the paintings on the walls and the dusty ornaments on the sideboard. I could practically hear him totting up how much they might be worth.
I could’ve saved him the trouble. He'd be lucky to get a tenner for any of them at a car boot sale. Great Uncle Charles didn't hold with spending money, and everything he'd furnished his house with was from junk shops, or markets, a fact he'd always been extraordinarily proud of.
My anger grew as Dad settled himself into the chair and said, "Could murder a cup of tea, Marley. Stick kettle on, love."
"What do you want, Dad?"
His eyebrows knitted together. "Well, that's charming. Some welcome, I must say."
"Welcome! What sort of welcome do you expect? You've been gone for sixteen years, for God's sake. You vanished off the face of the earth, without so much as a goodbye kiss. You think I'm going to just rush into your arms and tell you how much I've missed you?"
"Well, haven't you missed me?"
"You're unbelievable! What the hell do you care, anyway? If you'd wanted to know how I felt about you leaving, you could have asked me any time during the last sixteen years. But you didn't, did you? You couldn't be bothered to come and see me. Why ask the question now?"
"I've been busy," he whined. "It hasn't been an easy time for me, either, you know. I had lots to do, and time just slipped past without me realising it."
"You found the time to visit Great Uncle Charles and beg him for money, though, didn't you?"
I watched the wheedling look slip from my father's face, replaced by anger. "He told you that?"
"He did. He also told me that he refused you point blank. Is that why you're here? You've heard about his will, and you've come to beg me for the money he wouldn't give you."
Dad stood up, all softness gone from his voice. "It's a bloody disgrace. He had no right leaving you that money. It should have been mine, by rights. I was next in line. You got well in there, didn't you? Creeping round him to make sure you got everything."
"If you mean I visited him regularly and took care of him, then, yes, I did."
"Took care of him! Rubbish. You didn't give two hoots about the old devil. Who would? If you visited him, it was for one reason only, and we both know what that was. You're a chip off the old block, Marley, so don't sit there all high and mighty, acting as if you're better than me. We both know you were after his cash, and it paid off. Well, now you owe me, and I want what's mine."
Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I wiped them away, furious for showing any weakness to this loathsome man. How had I ever loved him? How had I ever thought he was the perfect dad? Why had I spent so much of my life missing him, and grieving for him?
"I cared about Great Uncle Charles," I managed, my voice cracking.
Kit took hold of my hand and squeezed it, and I made no attempt to remove it from his grasp. I needed his strength.
"Cared about him?" Dad gave a contemptuous laugh. "As if anyone could care about him. He was a vile creature. Why do you think no one ever visited him? He was mean and bitter. Rotten through and through."
"He was wounded!" I cried, outraged at the attack on my uncle's character. He wasn't around to defend himself, after all, and my father had no room to criticise anyone else. "He loved someone very much, but she left him for another man. It broke his heart, and he never got over it." I was aware that I was sitting beside the grandson of the very woman who'd broken it, too. It felt weird. What a crazy day it was turning out to be.
To my astonishment, Dad burst out laughing. He sat down in the chair again and rubbed his eyes. "Broke his heart? Left him for another man? Is that what he told you?"
I felt the colour drain from my face. "He didn't tell me anything," I admitted. "I found his scrapbook." I looked apologetically at Kit. "I'm really sorry, but it seems Great Uncle Charles was in love with your grandmother. She clearly didn't feel the same way, or she left him for a better prospect. Great Uncle Charles wasn't wealthy then, you see, but … but your grandfather, Edwin, was. She left him for Edwin. Uncle kept a scrapbook of cuttings about their engagement, their wedding, their life together. Right up until your father's christening, then he just stopped. I guess he'd accepted that it was truly over once there was a baby involved. He must have given up. That was around the time he moved to Leeds and started his construction company. I think," I took a deep breath. "I think he threw himself into work and decided to make his own fortune to show your grandmother what she'd missed, what she'd given up. He obviously loved her very much."
Kit stared at me. "Are you sure about this, Marley?"
"Positive," I said. "I'm sorry. I'm sure she loved your grandad, too."
He shook his head. "There was no love between them," he told me. "They slept in separate rooms and barely said a word to each other. When Grandfather died, my grandmother seemed relieved, if anything. It wasn't much of a love story."
"That's so sad," I wailed. "If she'd stayed with Great Uncle Charles, they may have really made each other happy. If she'd only waited, instead of going where the money was."
"Yeah." Kit sighed. "Money. Everything comes down to money, in the end."
We looked at each other, and the bitter accusations he'd thrown at me hung between us. Was that really what he thought I was? Some little gold-digger? Clearly, my father thought the same.
I felt completely defeated and worn out. What had I become, that this was the image people had of me? Well, if that was what they wanted to believe, let them. I was past caring.
I realised suddenly that Dad was laughing again. "Honestly, our Marley, you and your imagination. What a load of tosh. You still haven't clicked on, have you? My God, the old goat really did fool everyone. Well, I know the truth, and it isn't half as pretty as the picture you've just painted."
"What do you mean?" I demanded.
"This may come as quite a shock to both of you," he said, leaning forward and rubbing his hands in obvious glee. "My uncle was in love, all right. Very much in love. And the feeling was mutual. But he wasn't in love with your grandmother," he added, nodding at Kit. "I'm sorry to say, he was in love with Edwin. It was your grandad he was involved with, and they carried on right after he got married, an' all."
Kit's mouth dropped open in shock.
I glared at my dad. "And how would you know that?"
He shrugged. "Found some letters, years ago, that he'd written to Dad, explaining why he'd buggered off to Leeds. He was afraid Dad would disown him, if he knew the truth, but clearly that never happened. When I confronted Dad with them, he went mad. Told me to keep my mouth shut, and that I'd had no business rooting around in his stuff. Tried to make out that Uncle Charles did the noble thing, walking away from Carroll when the baby was born and putting it all behind him. Huh! Noble! No choice, more like."
"I can't believe it," Kit murmured. He glared at Dad. "Is this a joke? How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"You don't, but this is what happened. Your grandad and Marley's great uncle were at school together, and their relationship started when they were in their teens. After the war, they got together properly. Now, I've only got my uncle's side of things, but according to those letters, they were besotted with each other. Of course, they had to keep that secret. Illegal, for one thing, and think of the scandal! Anyway, it seems suspicions were being raised, and Edwin's father decided it was time that his son was married off, so they selected some woman from Whitby, and Edwin was more, or less, ordered to propose. Poor cow. She was like a lamb to the slaughter. No idea what she was getting involved with." He chuckled. "No wonder they had separate rooms. Bet he had to pretend she was Uncle Charles so they could conceive your dad."
I could feel Kit trembling with rage, and I couldn't blame him. I put my hand on his arm, trying to soothe him.
"They carried on after the wedding," Dad continued. "Edwin convinced Charles that nothing would change, and that he had no feelings for his wife, whatsoever. Then Charles found out that Dorothy was pregnant, and that was that. Your grandad insisted that it was my uncle's choice to walk away, for the sake of the baby and for Dorothy, but I reckon he was just jealous and pissed off that Edwin was having it away with his wife, after all. Anyway, he buggered off to Leeds and threw himself into building his company, and the rest, as they say, is history."
My mind whirled. It had never occurred to me that Great Uncle Charles had loved a man, but thinking about it, it explained his bitterness towards Edwin Carroll and his loathing for Carroll's Confectionary. Edwin had clearly had to do his duty—take over the factory, marry, produce an heir. The factory had come between them, after all.
I remembered the wistful look in Uncle Charles's eye, and the regretful tone in his voice when he’d told me that I'd be surprised what people would do for money. But it wasn't all about money, I thought suddenly. In another era, Edwin might have made a different decision entirely, but back then, it would have been dangerous for two men to have a sexual relationship. He could have gone to prison. They both could. And they would have been shunned, vilified. I couldn't entirely blame Edwin for choosing an easier path. It was just a shame that three people had suffered so much because of it.
"I expect this has come as quite a shock to you, too," Dad said, nodding at Kit. "Not the sort of thing that you'd want people to know about, is it? I mean, with Carroll's being so respectable."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was Dad honestly trying to blackmail Kit?
I held my breath as I watched Kit, his face stony, eyeing my dad with obvious contempt. "It wouldn't bother me in the slightest," he said eventually. "No one with a shred of decency cares about that sort of thing anymore. Tell the world and his wife, for all I care. You can't hurt anyone. The three people who were involved are all gone now. Do your worst."
Dad paled. "I wasn't threatening you," he whined.
"Weren't you? Good job, really. The police take a dim view of blackmail," Kit said coldly.
I'd had enough. "Just get out," I said.
Dad's eyes widened. "Get out? You don't mean that, Marley. You're my little girl."
"I stopped being your little girl a long, long time ago," I said. "I wasted more than half my life pining for you, wishing you'd come back, wondering what I'd done wrong and why you'd abandoned me. Well, now I know. You abandoned me because you didn't care about anyone but yourself. You didn't care that you broke my heart, or Mum's heart, or Olivia's heart. You didn't care that we were flat broke, and Mum had to take on five cleaning jobs to keep the roof over our heads, or that she cried herself to sleep every night for years, or that you left behind two scared little girls who didn't know how to make her feel better, and were worried every day that we'd lose our home. You haven't even asked how Mum is. How Olivia is. You're disgusting. Just go."
"What about my money? You can't say it's not mine by rights, Marley," he said, sounding angry. "I'm the next in line, not you. That should have gone to me."
"But it didn't," Kit said, standing up and looming over him. "It went to Marley, because Marley stuck around. Marley visited her great uncle. Marley cared about him, and he knew that. That's why he left it to her. He could have left it to you, to her sister, or to a local cat's home, for God's sake, but he chose Marley. That says to me that he knew she loved him, and that the feeling was mutual. So, do as she says, and clear off. You won't get your hands on her money, and she doesn't need you messing with her head. You've done enough damage, don't you think?"
Dad scrambled to his feet. "So, that's what you think, is it?" he demanded, jutting his chin out defiantly.
The emotions tumbled around in my head as I recalled the days when he'd been my hero. My daddy. The first man I ever loved, and the first man who walked away from me. The man standing before me was no hero. He didn't deserve the affection I'd once felt for him. He'd broken my mum and left me to mend her. I didn't need him anymore. I didn't want him anymore.
"That's exactly what I think," I said. "Goodbye, Dad."
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. I turned away from him, as Kit led him to the front door and showed him out. Hearing the key turn in the lock, I sank down onto the sofa again, feeling numb.
Kit joined me and took my hand. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart! He hadn't called me that before. I realised I was trembling. "Yeah. Just—you know."
He nodded and let out a long breath. "Well, that was quite a shock all round. Who'd have thought it?"
"Does it change how you feel about your grandad?" I asked.
He gave a short laugh. "I don't really feel anything about my grandad, and that hasn't changed, at all. He wasn't the nicest chap to be around, from what I remember. I was only little when he died, but I have no fond memories of him. Grandma was okay, I suppose, though not exactly one for cuddles and kisses. I guess I feel sorry for her now. She must have had a very unhappy and frustrating life. They both must have. It's sad. How about you?"
"Me?"
"Does it change how you feel about your uncle?"
I considered the matter. "I think it makes me love him a little bit more, and it certainly helps me to understand him better. They were different times. He must have lived a half-life, really. How different things would be today."
"Yeah, I know. Weird, isn't it?" He shook his head. "All that pain, and all that love wasted. Such a shame."
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering, despite the heating being on full.
"Marley, what we were talking about before your father arrived ..."
I turned away from him. This was the man who thought I was only with him for his money. All the love I'd felt for him, all the longing for him, everything that was between us, had just been destroyed. He'd cheapened our whole relationship. No wonder he'd found it so easy to walk away from me all those years ago.
That's the reason you went out with me. Money.
He knew nothing.
"Can we do this another time, Kit?" I said wearily. "I've just discovered the truth about Great Uncle Charles, met my dad for the first time in sixteen years, and learned that he really isn't the man I'd built him up to be. It's a lot to process."
He looked disappointed, but didn't argue. "Of course. Another time." He stood up. "I'll see myself out, Marley. Take care."
I nodded and sat quite still, as he walked away. Another time. I think we both knew, deep in our hearts, that time had just run out. There was nothing else to say.
***
"It's fabulous news, Jack. Such a relief. You must be over the moon."
"You could say that." Jack's voice was loaded with laughter. "Amanda had a good cry this morning. She's been brilliant through all this—so strong. I couldn't have got through it without her."
"You're both brilliant. Tim's lucky to have such great parents, and it's fantastic that the treatment's going so well. You'll be home before you know it, and then you can start to live properly again. All of you."
"What will I be coming back to, though?" A cautious note had entered Jack's voice, and Kit sighed.
"Don't worry about all that. Just concentrate on getting through the rest of Tim's therapy."
"I told you, Kit. I don't want you keeping anything from me. Besides, I need to know what's happening. Have we a home to come back to? Will I have a job? Did you meet up with Serafina?"
Kit relaxed a little. There, at least, he had some good news for his brother. "I did. She loved the house as much as ever, and made me an offer there and then. I got our solicitor to check over the contract, and he was happy with it. I signed today. Serafina now officially owns Fell House."
"Wow!" Jack let out a whistle. "It's what we were hoping for. Kind of sad, though."
"Not as sad as you might think," Kit reassured him. "I had it written into the deal that you were guaranteed one of the apartments for free. You and Amanda and Tim will always have a home at Fell House. All right, it's not the entire house, but from what Seffy described, the apartments are going to be amazing. I think you'll love it."
"Christ, Kit, I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything. Call it a Christmas present," Kit said, grinning.
"But I haven't even got you a present," Jack complained. "I haven't had time to think about it."
"You just gave me the best Christmas present in the world," Kit assured him. "Knowing Tim's on the mend is the best news ever. I don't need anything else."
"So, what about the factory? Will the money from the sale put things right?"
Kit must have hesitated just a fraction too long.
Jack pounced back in with, "Don't keep things from me! I want to know the truth. You promised, remember."
"I know, I know. The money from the sale will pay the bank what we owe them, and not a moment too soon, as they're getting very demanding. It will also clear the bills from our suppliers, and that should leave us with enough to pay the wages for a few months. After that, who knows?"
"Shit." There was a long sigh. "So, then it will be back to square one?"
"Not necessarily. I had a meeting yesterday with Ethan Rochester."
"Who?"
"Ethan Rochester? You know, Rochester's Department Stores?"
"Oh, God. Of course. Why on earth did you meet up with him?"
Quickly, Kit filled him in with the news about the York shop.
Jack whistled. "But even so, meeting the big boss himself? Doesn't he have minions to do that sort of thing for him?"
Kit laughed. "I know. I couldn't believe it, either. He invited me to dinner at his house, and we had a really pleasant, informal evening. I took along some samples, and he got his wife to taste them. Turns out she's a huge fan of our chocolate. Told me she has a serious addiction to our Caramel Choc Bloc."
"They sound a nice couple."
"They are. Ethan was bouncing his baby son on his knee, and his little sister was running around causing havoc, and his wife sampled every chocolate and told me, after tasting each and every flavour, that it was her new favourite. We had a lovely time."
"So, did you get the contract?"
Kit sighed. He thought it best not to tell his brother the whole story. Informal the meeting may have been, but Ethan wasn't stupid. Far from it. He'd known all about their involvement with Halliwell & Stephenson's and was aware that the company had crashed. He wanted to know how the loss of the LuvRocks contract had impacted on Carroll's, and whether his investment in the company would be secure, should he choose to give them the contract to supply York. Kit had considered embellishing the truth, but decided in the end that honesty was the best policy. Ethan had clearly appreciated that, but it would no doubt throw a spanner in the works. They weren't guaranteed anything. Far from it. "Not yet. He's going to let me know. I would have said yes, judging by how well we got on, but for all I know, he might have invited a dozen other manufacturers along and done exactly the same with them. It's just a question of wait and see."
"Will the contract be enough to pull us through?"
Kit considered the question before answering. "Not on its own," he said. "It will help, but we're going to have to find other customers, new sources of income. I don't want to be so heavily reliant on one contract ever again."
"After LuvRocks, I can't say I blame you," Jack said, sounding sheepish. "I really am sorry about that."
"You did what you thought was best," Kit said firmly. "It's past and done. Forget about it."
"When I come back," Jack said, "what's going to happen? With us, I mean? Are you planning on staying?"
Kit leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. "Would it bother you if I was?"
"Hell, no! I'd love it."
"Really? I wouldn't cramp your style?"
Jack laughed. "Are you kidding? I'd love it. Are you seriously considering it?"
"More than that, Jack. I've made up my mind. I've done my travelling. Now I want to stay put and try to turn Carroll's around. We have a long way to go, and I don't honestly know if we'll make it, but I want to do everything I can to save the place. No idea where I'm going to live, though. May end up sleeping on the office floor."
"Don't be daft. You can move in with us. It's the least we can do."
"I think that might be a bit too much, don't you? Much as I love you, I don't think I could be with you twenty-four hours a day. It might just finish me off."
"Point taken. Well, you'll find somewhere, I'm sure. I'm just so glad that you're staying. I look forward to working for you."
Kit's eyes snapped open. "You won't be working for me, Jack. You'll be working with me. Partners."
"Are you serious?"
"Absolutely. I've already spoken to our solicitor about making it official. You've earned your share in this factory, which is more than I've done. But I intend to start earning it. From now on, it gets my full, undivided attention."
"Hmm. Well, I'm thrilled that you're staying, and I'm grateful for the partnership, Kit, truly I am, but don't get like Dad, will you?"
"Like Dad?" Kit felt his hackles rising. "As if!"
"He thought about nothing but the factory. I don't want you to have nothing in your life but that place. Time you found yourself a girlfriend, if you ask me. You need some fun and a bit of love in your life."
"Plenty of time for all that," Kit said, lightly. "I'm only thirty. No hurry."
Jack laughed. "Just as long as you bear it in mind," he said. "I met Amanda when I was just a teenager, and I'm glad about it. We've had so many years together. Don't leave it too long, eh?"
"Oh, get back to your lovely wife and your sickeningly happy marriage," Kit said, trying to sound jokey. "Give Amanda and Tim my love, and tell them I can't wait to see them. I'm counting the days."
"We are, too," Jack said quietly. "Take care, bro. And thank you. Thanks for everything."
"No need to thank me. A half share in a failing factory is hardly anything to get excited about. I may just be saddling you with a half share in a pile of debts, so I'd hold off on those thanks, if I were you."
"We'll make it work," Jack said. "Together. I'll head to the shops as soon as I can and send you an amazing Christmas present. Promise."
Kit laughed and ended the call. He didn't need any Christmas presents. His nephew's good health was all that he wanted. Anything else was just the icing on the Christmas cake.
He thought about the one present he had received. He shouldn't really have opened it, but he'd been unable to resist. It was from Marley, and it was a smart tie—from Rochester's, ironically. It had probably cost a small fortune, and it meant absolutely nothing whatsoever to him. Typical of Marley. It was all about the designer name. She really didn't know him at all.
He wondered briefly what she would make of the present he'd got her. She would probably hate it.
It just showed the difference between them, he thought sadly. They were miles apart. How had he ever thought it could work? The physical attraction between them was as strong as ever, but it wasn't enough. The simple fact was, he didn't trust her. She'd proved over and over that it was money that motivated her, and love had played no part in her relationship with him. Why had he been so determined to ignore that? He would never deny the truth to himself again.