Hide in Time Read online

  HIDE

  IN

  TIME

  by

  Anna Faversham

  Copyright

  ©

  Anna Faversham

  2012

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious or, in the case of historical figures, their actions are fictionalized, though, as you know, Wellington really did win the Battle of Waterloo. Some places are real, some imagined.

  To

  Mark, Sara

  and

  Stephen

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Who's Who

  HIDE in TIME

  HAVE YOU EVER REGRETTED SOMETHING AND WISHED YOU COULD PUT IT RIGHT? LAURA HAS AND SHE DID, BUT IT NEARLY COST HER LIFE.

  PROLOGUE

  Torwell Bridge, Kent, England

  July 1814

  “You could not be further from the truth, Laura.”

  “I have irrefutable evidence; it is no longer hearsay.”

  Her course of action was clear: she would delay not a moment more. The man in whom she had invested all her hopes for the future must now become her past. Adam sat astride his chestnut stallion. His eyes never left hers not even when he dismounted and flung the reins to his approaching groom.

  Laura turned away, gathered the silk shawl around her shoulders, the one he had given her, and hurried towards the house. He followed, caught hold of her hand, and spun her around. One last look; she would allow herself a final indulgent gaze at the man she had once thought noble.

  She raised her eyes from his black riding boots, focused on the velvet collar where his dark hair curled as it skimmed his white shirt, and felt a pang of unreasonable jealousy for she would never touch that hair again. She hesitated, then glanced up. His eloquent eyes would haunt her until…

  Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

  CHAPTER ONE

  Middleston, Kent, England

  July 2009

  Sometimes Laura Yager could tell if her clients would get on just by comparing which newspapers they read. A contemporary short cut which she tempered with time-honoured discernment. Would it work for Xandra Radcliffe?

  Xandra, due in the agency any minute now, would have to wait to meet ‘Mr Right’. Once again, Matt Redfern, a possible ‘Mr Very Right’, was away on business just when he was needed. He wasn’t an easy client; despite having been introduced to dozens of possible matches, none seemed to be the one he was looking for. She had the feeling he was concealing something; perhaps she didn’t know him well enough.

  Yet she ought to; she owed him so much. Along with all the support he had given her when she first arrived, he had said something which profoundly affected her thoughts. She remembered the moment he had said it. She could see him now, sitting in a high-backed leather chair with one leg propped up on the other, ankle to knee; so relaxed. She hadn’t known him long and yet he’d gone right to the heart of the matter. Yes, heart. ‘I’ve heard that when you are near death, it’s not the things you have done that you regret but more often the things you’ve left undone.’ She’d focused on his blood-red socks as, initially, she’d thought him wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  Dragging her attention back to her client’s imminent arrival, she checked herself in the mirror by the coat stand; there must be no sign of the tears that welled whenever she thought of the past. She dragged a comb through her chin-length blond hair. She flicked through the client file and reminded herself to pronounce her name with a ‘Z’. Xandra had said, ‘I haven’t been out with anyone for a while; I’m a little nervous.’ Début dates were often spoiled by nerves. Perhaps fortuitous then that Matt was away. Again.

  She’d wondered if the smart auditor who’d recently joined would appeal but had decided against it. Talking was taxing for an accountant – they might just sit and stare at each other. Besides, Xandra, in her early twenties, was nearly ten years younger. No, he was not right for Xandra; she was satisfied with her choices for easing Xandra into a wider social circle.

  A commotion in the street below drew her to the window. Outside the jewellers, almost unchanged since it first opened in 1796, an elderly lady struggled with a scrawny hoodie intent on making off with her handbag. He succeeded but didn’t get far before Xandra, appearing from nowhere, marched him back towards the startled woman and made him apologize and return the bag. A couple of Community Policemen arrived and Laura watched as Xandra left the boy in their custody.

  The intercom buzzer sounded and Laura answered, “Miss Radcliffe?”

  A faint “Yes,” followed.

  “Come on up.” Xandra entered the small office diffidently, yet with growing confidence, like a cat entering a neighbour’s house for the first time. They had met once before when she’d given brief information needed to compile a profile. Her shyness could have nothing to do with her appearance. She was everything a man could wish for, yet not overtly seductive. She had lovely long, fair hair. In normal circumstances, a match would be easy; men tended to go for looks.

  “Now that’s what I call making an entrance,” Laura said as she briefly shook Xandra’s slim, well-manicured hand. “He’ll think twice before doing that again.” She beckoned towards an armchair next to a coffee table. A blue folder lay open on top. Xandra placed her large Mulberry tote bag on the floor beside her. Laura found herself approving of both the bag and the fact that she had not presumed to plonk it on top of the file. How odd, thought Laura, she’d had her eye on the very same one. It had been in the window of "The Golden Boot" a few doors along. Xandra clearly had a taste for quality and practicality.

  How modest she was too: in response to Laura’s comment Xandra merely smiled and said, “Oh I was in the right place at the right time, that’s all.”

  Laura picked up the folder, sat the other side of the table, crossed her legs and leaned towards Xandra. Xandra drew away. Had she been emotionally hurt? Or was she long-sighted? “Super handbag,” Laura murmured. She must not stare, she reminded herself – even at a client’s bag. Then she regretted the use of the word "super". It sounded so overused and not the kind of contemporary phrase Xandra would choose. She hurried on. She flicked the pages over until finding the man she’d chosen to be Xandra’s first date. “So how did you get on with Nick?”

  “I very much approve of his conservation interests.”

  Xandra looked uncomfortable and Laura knew that a polite ‘thank you – but no thanks’ would follow.

  “He’d omitted to tell me he’d planned a beach barbecue. I wore heels, a mid-length dress and only had this light jacket with me.”

  They exchanged rueful smiles.

  It was often helpful for new clients to go out with someone nice who restored their faith in the opposi
te sex, yet clearly wasn’t all they were looking for. Nick needed someone like Xandra. And Xandra? She’d yet to be sure.

  Laura noted Xandra’s black trousers and jacket. She’d only seen her in these well-cut trousers so far. It seemed at odds with the passionate historical interest shown on her profile. “Would you go out with him again?”

  “Yes.” A short silence was followed by, “But…”

  Oh those ‘yes buts…’ Laura heard them so frequently. “Go on, Xandra. Anything you say is confidential.”

  In a very decisive manner, formal even, Xandra said, “I enjoy the countryside and the coast yet it was clear from his conversation that he would like to meet someone who can actively support his conservation interests.”

  “The world is a better place for people like him, but he is not for you?” Laura proffered.

  “Exactly.”

  Xandra had possibly the most mellow voice she had ever heard. Spellbinding in one so young, thought Laura before enquiring, “And how did you get on with Andy?”

  “He took me to my favourite restaurant, ‘The Restaurant on the Green’ at Beeston.”

  Laura looked up from turning the pages of the file. That would be her choice of restaurant too. She gave Xandra an encouraging smile.

  “The dinner was wonderful. All my favourites – lamb shank, cheesecake.”

  They were Laura’s preferences too. How odd. “And Andy? What about him? Did you like him?”

  “He’s charming and sensitive, with a good sense of humour. We both love history, we enjoy the same books – we have much in common.”

  It was at this point that Laura was sure a ‘but’ was coming. It came in disguise. Xandra was sure they would stay friends.

  ~

  Before departing that evening, Laura threw her black jacket around her shoulders, brushed down her black, swirly skirt and reflected on how wearing all black when not in mourning was a novelty that had not yet worn off. She checked her diary to ensure she had completed all scheduled tasks. She stared at the date – she had survived another fifteenth of July. Involuntarily she heard the sound of a raging storm and felt waves as high as the shoreline cliffs crashing over her. Her heart thumped as if it knew it must give all it could, just as it had in 2004, exactly five years ago. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and stilled its pounding.

  ~

  Following two more unsuccessful dates, Laura rang Xandra on her mobile. “A gentleman has selected your profile and wishes to meet you.” Laura gave some details and layered on her usual personal opinion – it was what people paid for. “He’s a partner in a Garden Centre business. I can’t quite see you two together, though he’s very funny. Forthright too. In his profile he’s put that he made a big mistake – he fell in love with a pair of blue eyes and married the whole girl.”

  There was a pause before Xandra replied, “Even so, as he’s been kind enough to select my profile, I think I should at least give him a chance.”

  Chastened, Laura gave more information. “He’s mischievous and gay…” She winced. She’d used the wrong word. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter with Xandra; the thought flickered through her mind how polite and somewhat old-fashioned her client was. “Shall I give him your number?”

  “I’m on my way home early this afternoon; may I call in and look at his profile?”

  “Of course. I’ll put the kettle on when you arrive.” Laura was looking forward to seeing Xandra again. If she knew more about her, it might answer her own growing disquiet.

  ~

  When Xandra arrived, Laura made sure she was comfortably seated by the window while she pondered how to ask the personal questions which kept bumping around in her head. Small talk first though. “No street brawls? No little ruffians to deal with?”

  “No, all is as it should be. Yet I can’t help thinking about that hoodie. He must have been desperate to snatch an elderly lady’s handbag in a busy street in daylight.”

  “Or greedy and foolish?” Laura brought in the tea tray from the adjacent kitchen, which Matt described as “minimalist”. Pointing to a plate of little cup cakes, she asked, “Do you suppose we’d be considered greedy and foolish if we polished this lot off?”

  Xandra laughed.

  “Do you have any brothers, Xandra?” There, that would not seem out of order; it almost slid straight from the discussion of the kerfuffle in the street.

  “No, I have no family at all now. I was an only child.”

  “Your parents? Aren’t they still alive?” Laura had to be sure, yet risked invading the privacy of her client – for that, thus far, was what Xandra was.

  “No.”

  Laura proffered the plate of cakes. “I have no family either.”

  Xandra took a little chocolate one and, in between mouthfuls, she opened up briefly and explained she had lost her parents when she was quite young, she’d then boarded at school and stayed with a spinster aunt in the holidays. “Even my aunt died young, poor woman. Just forty-six.” Xandra stared wistfully out of the window before adding, “And the money my parents left had not been invested wisely. Fortunately, there was sufficient to set myself up as a jeweller. I do enjoy my work, though I feel there must be more to life – somewhere.”

  Laura dwelt on that last word rather too long before she returned to professional mode. “Ah yes, I almost forgot. Here are the details of Art Kumar.” She allowed Xandra a few moments to absorb the sparse details that Art would give. Laura enthused, “He really is a fine-looking man.” She watched as Xandra’s finger paused on Art’s photo in the file. “Very industrious and certainly knows how to make me laugh. What do you think? Will you meet him?”

  “My instincts whisper ‘no’. But I will. I like plants.”

  Laura knew they had little else in common.

  Arrangements were made with Art to meet on Saturday lunchtime in the coffee shop in Waterstones.

  Laura picked up the file from the table where Xandra had left it. She tapped Art’s photo. “He said you’ll easily recognize him.” Waiting for someone in a public place could be embarrassing but the bookshop had earned Brownie points. Her clients could peruse the shelves and then appear to bump into an old friend and decide on coffee, cake, and a chat on the top floor café’s comfy sofa.

  “He’s quite a character, Xandra.”

  Laura watched Xandra leave. She saw her looking in the multi-paned window of the jewellers again. A professional interest, no doubt. They had always been one of the best in Kent. Laura felt an affinity for them because she was born the same year they opened.

  Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

  CHAPTER TWO

  Laura arrived at her office early on Monday morning in order to be there well before Xandra. She needed time to think. When she’d settled here a few years ago, she’d had little money and no experience of the ways of this world. She’d even spoken differently from everyone else – not any more, of course; well, mostly things were ok. It had been essential to blend in. There, see, these terms came naturally now. The agency had the tag line, “For People with Traditional Values in Life.” It helped explain her youthful looks but occasionally antiquated ways. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered one of the many embarrassing moments – the time she’d interviewed her first client and asked if he’d like to purchase her services. Matt, hovering in the background, had rescued her again. Even now she hadn’t quite mastered all the nuances of modern English.

  She couldn’t settle to do any work until she’d heard if Xandra’s date had been successful. This thing with Xandra was taking over, fuelled by the increasing number of coincidences occurring. She walked to the window overlooking the street. Pacing the room was unsettling her further, so she anchored herself to the window ledge with the tips of her fingers and looked across the pedestrianized road to the jewellers. ‘Cornell ~ established 1796’ was written in the same gold script above their window. Laura knew as she looked at the ring on her finger that all her memories gathered around him still. “Adam,” she sai
d aloud, as if the very act of calling his name would alter the course of history. Perhaps she had made an error of judgment in renting an office opposite? She countered with ‘it gives me roots.’ Besides, the bridal shop on the ground floor had judiciously given her a reduction in rent. She removed the ring; it must be kept hidden and she must trust no one – in this case not even Matt – especially not Matt.

  Xandra had said she’d call in at nine o’clock and it was with relief that Laura caught sight of her carrying a large plastic bag and glancing at the charity shop fashions as she sauntered down Archangel Hill. Laura was transfixed as Xandra paused to look at the jewellers. She forced herself to go and sit down at the desk and await her arrival. She had Xandra’s concerns and best interests at heart yet something was working against her efforts to find Xandra a beau. She corrected herself, soul mate, that’s the term everyone used now. She didn’t like this strange feeling, so unlike anything she’d ever known. The buzzer sounded, Laura pressed the button, acknowledged Xandra then returned to sit at her desk. Moments later, Xandra burst through the door clutching a garden gnome in one hand and a pink flowering plant in the other.

  “Another memorable entrance!” Not diffident now, thought Laura.

  “I’ve brought you some mementoes from my date with Art,” Xandra said. “He was right – I easily recognized him.”

  “You’re not telling me he was holding these as you arrived?”

  “I am.”

  Xandra put the plant on the little table and the gnome beside it. “Fortunately, I had my trusty Mulberry with me,” she said holding the tote bag aloft. “I immediately placed the gnome within.”

  It was the sort of handbag into which one could cram a whole family of gnomes, well, certainly enough gold or jewellery to last a lifetime. Cross with herself, she put that thought aside and allowed herself a giggle. She did not normally indulge in laughter; professionalism was what she was known for. “I’m sorry,” she said with a hand over her mouth, “It’s good to have feedback though.”