Running Scarred Page 8
“What do you want here anyway Justin? I have a lot to do as you can see, so unless it’s very important, please don’t waste any more of my time than you have to.” She was as dismissive as possible.
Justin whistled through his teeth as he sauntered further into the room.
“When I saw David he was so over the top about this place. He was full of it. I thought you might need a business manager. You know, someone who really knows how to run things. Someone with plenty of experience.” He was peering up through the window. “Hmm, nice view.” He added sarcastically as he watched a pair of workman’s boots march past.
Ellen’s mouth had fallen open at his arrogance. She closed it quickly.
“And just what sort of experience do you think you’ve got Justin?”
He turned and smiled lazily at her.
“Oh you know. All those places in Spain. I’ve done a fantastic deal on them and sold the lot for twice what we paid.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Oh really? What I paid you mean. And just how did you manage to sell them when the papers transferring ownership haven’t even been signed off yet? They’re still at my solicitors.” She began walking towards the door wanting to be out of the confined space.
He caught hold of her arm as she passed him. He held it tightly, his thumb digging into her flesh and bruising her skin.
“Well, that’s another of the reasons I came to see you. I couldn’t miss out on the deal and so I signed on your behalf. The only problem is now that you will get half of the money. I was thinking that you would hand that over to me.”
Ellen shook her head in amazement.
“You signed on my behalf? How?” She didn’t wait for a response. “You mean you forged my signature? You fool Justin! Why couldn’t you wait? If I chose to, I could call in the fraud squad and then you wouldn’t get a penny.”
He pulled her arm and dragged her close to him. She could smell his sour, greedy breath.
He leered down at her.
“But you’re not going to do that are you? You’re going to get your cheque book right now and hand me the money.” His tone was full of menace.
She wrenched her arm away from him, not caring if she made the bruising worse, and glared up at him.
“When the money arrives in my account I will deduct any expenses you may have incurred on my behalf and then I’ll give the difference to charity. You can keep your half and I won’t get the police involved. How about that for a bargain? Now get out!” She stood by the door, quivering with rage.
She turned her face away as Justin crowded in on her, breathing heavily over her.
“You bitch! I’ll leave when I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet. If you’re not willing to give me my money, perhaps you’d be willing to give me something else. Something a little more personal. You like it rough, so how about a little rough with me, here, right now. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it and at least I don’t look like I’ve been through a mincing machine.” He reached out and was about to pull her back towards him when she spun away from his grasp. Her plaited hair flew round her face and her diamond clip caught him on his chin.
He gasped in pain and put the back of his hand against his face. His hand came away smeared with blood. He glared at her furiously, dangerously.
“That bloody hair clip! You wear the damned thing all the time. You’re a multi-millionaire and you can’t even be bothered to go and buy something half decent. You’re a sentimental fool and only wear it to keep that cripple of a brother on your side. I don’t know why you bother, he’s as useless as that clip.”
Ellen took a deep breath. She was furious but she was also afraid as she watched a drop of blood ooze from the cut and run down his chin.
“I’m sorry Justin. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Maybe I will reconsider the money, but I really can’t do anything about it until I receive my share. Nearly everything I have is tied up here. Even you must see that. Now I really would like you to leave. I am very busy.” She hoped to placate him long enough for her to get out of the cellar.
For a moment he looked as though he was going to argue, but just then limping, uneven footsteps could be heard echoing along the corridor.
“Ellen?” The voice came from nearby. “Ellen? Are you here? Did he find you?”
Ellen felt her breath rush from her body.
“Patrick! Yes, I’m fine. Justin was just leaving.” The relief was audible in her tone.
Justin looked out into the corridor and came face to face with a glaring Patrick. He mumbled a few words about feeling claustrophobic and then pushed past. His feet could be heard clattering up the steps of the cellar.
Ellen stumbled towards Patrick. She was about to throw her arms around him when she stopped suddenly. He was glaring down at her now, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth set in a grim line.
“He asked me the way. I didn’t know if he had found you. The workmen told me you were down here…” He was silent for a second.
Ellen gulped back tears of relief.
“Patrick! Thank God you came. He was…” She didn’t finish. Her breath was coming in panicked gasps.
Patrick glowered down at her still, his dark blue eyes glittering in anger.
“You never said that you were engaged.” His voice was accusing.
She blinked in shock and stepped back.
“I didn’t think I had to say. I never got the chance. You stormed off the last time I saw you. And anyway, I’m not eng…” She didn’t have the opportunity to finish.
He flung up a hand, waving her words away.
“I don’t want to know. I only came to make sure your fiancé had found his way.” He interrupted bitterly and turned quickly not wanting to see her face properly.
“Patrick! He’s not my…” But he was already making for the stairs. “Oh what’s the point, if you’re not going to listen anyway.” She finished lamely and she turned back to the room and continued with the sweeping.
The clearing took over two weeks, skips arrived empty and were taken away overflowing with rotting debris. Then scaffolding went up, cloaking the beautiful building in a web of grey steel. Another month was spent stripping the place down and conserving anything that could be saved. A specialist team came in to flood the walls and the remaining wood with rot and insect treatment and Ellen worked for days with an architect, putting down all her ideas on paper and letting him turn them into fabulously detailed drawings. She sent another team of workers to the stable block and riding school to start renovations there.
She poured over the French permit forms, asking the local workmen for advice when she didn’t understand a question, while she wished she had taken more notice of her French teacher at school. Construction certificates were at last written up and lorry loads of wood and tiles arrived daily.
The roofers came in to replace the missing turrets and tilers began on the slates. The Chateau rang with the sound of hard work.
Ellen didn’t see Patrick again.
She knew he was about, she could smell his wood fire every morning and she sometimes thought she caught sight of him prowling through the undergrowth. Several times she tried to call on him, wanting to keep him appraised of her plans, her heart pounding as she made her way to his door, but he was either out or ignoring her because he didn’t respond to her knocking. Each time she trudged miserably back to the Chateau, the ache in her chest thudding dully.
She tried to put all her thoughts of him to the back of her mind. She couldn’t become so involved or so distracted. It was obvious he wasn’t interested. She felt awful at upsetting his peace and quiet, but there was no other way to proceed. If he was going to avoid all contact with her, there wasn’t a lot she could do. It wasn’t as though she could go barging into his house unasked, although she very much wanted to.
Her next big hurdle was the permission for a change of use to a hotel. There had been several objections to her proposal, although nobody had seen her final plans, and
because they could affect the town considerably, a meeting had been arranged in the town hall. Anton had told her that there would be a lot of interest from many townsfolk. On her side, the Maire was all for anything that would bring the prospect of more jobs and visitors to the area, but many were against the whole idea, preferring the peace and quiet to which the town was accustomed.
She woke on the morning of the meeting with a nervous flutter in her stomach.
Ellen was going to unveil her finalized plans that afternoon. She had been hoping to see Patrick the evening before the meeting to go over her ideas and reassure him, but he had avoided her yet again and she had stomped home, furious at his stubborn refusal to see her.
She climbed out of her sleeping bag, stiff and un-rested. The sun was in full force now June had arrived and the morning was already hot. She straightened her sleeping bag on the floor and rolled her shoulders. She hadn’t slept properly in weeks and she was beyond tired, her body aching from sleeping for months on the hard floor.
After the first week of clearing, she had been intending to sleep at the local hotel, but when it became obvious that the owners were unhappy about possible competition, she had just slung a bedding roll on the floor of one of the better rooms and had made it her makeshift bedroom.
She grabbed the only dress she had brought with her from her suitcase and walked through the hall.
She slipped into the kitchen and washed in the huge sink. It was inconvenient and still only ran with cold water, but she was waiting for the plumbers to arrive. They were due in a few days time as soon as her permits were in place. She could barely wait for her first hot shower. She brushed her hair and tied it back using David’s diamond clip hoping it would bring her good luck. Then she slipped the pale yellow dress on quickly and turned the kettle on.
She unrolled the plans and sat with her tea going over and over them, making sure she had answers to every possible question and contingency plans if she didn’t.
She lifted her head and looked through the window as she heard a truck pulling up outside. She was surprised to see Monsieur Sylvan arriving with his lorry. Now the windows had arrived and been fitted perhaps the ugly grey scaffolding was being removed at last. She walked outside to see the work wondering why he was three days early.
She waved at the driver of the truck and he sprang out of the cab to greet her.
“Mademoiselle, a good day for you I think and for me too. Your workers ‘ave finished just in time. I ‘ave to get this all removed and on the truck by tonight. Another job ‘as come up. A superb opportunity, the men are very ‘appy to ‘ave more work confirmed, but I ‘ave to be on site first thing in the morning or I will lose the contract. ‘ave you anyone ‘ere that can help me load up today?”
Ellen shook her head.
“Today? No, everyone has the day off. I’m going to the town hall. There is the meeting arranged for the change of use. I thought we had an agreement that this lot would be staying until the end of the week?” She put her cup on the windowsill and looked around the Chateau. There were no other workmen here today. She had given them all the day off because she was going to be at the planning meeting and many of them wanted to see how it would all go down with the locals. “I don’t have anyone here today Monsieur Sylvan. I wasn’t expecting to have this lot loaded quite that soon.”
Monsieur Sylvan gave an expansive shrug.
“But I must ‘ave it all by the morning regardless, or I will lose a great deal of money and my men will ‘ave no work. I will ‘ave to charge you if it is not loaded in time.”
Ellen looked taken aback at his tone. There was no way he was going to make her pay for his change of plans.
“Then I will have to deduct your daily rate for the three days that you agreed to leave the scaffolding here. I can work that out quite easily. But whether I can adjust your fees or not I’m certainly not going to be able to get that lot loaded by tonight, I just don‘t have the workforce and it’s too late to get them to come in now.”
Monsieur Sylvan shook his head and frowned.
“Maybe you do not understand me. I ‘ave to ‘ave it done by the morning. The loss of the contract will leave me thousands out of pocket. I’m not prepared to lose that kind of money. And my men, they will be furious if they ‘ave no job. I really don’t want to ‘ave to charge you extra.” He puffed out his chest.
Ellen didn’t want to argue. She was simply too tired and today’s meeting was too important to risk confrontation. She couldn’t face the whole of the town having just had a dispute with one of its most respected tradesmen.
“Look, I do understand, but it’s not my fault if you confirmed a contract that you can’t fulfill. I have an agreement with you that I hire your equipment until the end of the week. That’s what I’ve paid for. I don’t want you to lose the opportunity of more work but I just can’t see how I can help you. Isn’t there some way round this?” She thought hard as Monsieur Sylvan puffed his cheeks and pursed his lips. Ellen carried on. “I mean, do you need all of the scaffolding by the morning? Can you make do with just some of it and then come back for the rest another day? Surely so long as you are on the next site and making a start, no one would object.” She was pleading to his better nature.
He thought for a few seconds and then looked at the truck again. He turned towards her with a small smile.
“As it is you Mademoiselle, I think I could make do with about ‘alf. It is only because you have used all my stocks of scaffold. This is such an ‘uge ‘ouse, but maybe I will get my men to take the whole lot down today. They will take one load, if you can get a second next truck loaded by eight in the morning then I will come back for the last of it Thursday. Can we agree on that?”
Ellen looked at the vast amount of metal pipe and scaffold boards. It would be a mammoth task but she couldn’t see any other way round the problem. She nodded in agreement, as there was nothing else she could do.
“I’ll do my best. And now I have to go. I have a meeting this afternoon with the Maire and I must have everything prepared. I can’t be late. I’ll see you at ten in the morning.” She was buying herself another couple of hours loading time. She didn’t have a clue of how she was going to load a whole lorry by herself, but as she had nobody else to rely on, she would have to try. Maybe she could get a couple of the plumbers to help her in the morning. They seemed to be fit enough for the task but she had long since learned that the French workers were only prepared to do their own job and refused to interfere with any other. It just wasn’t done.
She returned to the Chateau and gathered up the plans and paperwork she needed for her presentation, and jumped into her tiny Fiat.
The Maire greeted her at the town hall, like an old friend, kissing her on both cheeks. He showed her to a chair on the raised dais at the front of the rows of chairs.
She was shocked at the amount of seats that had been put out. She had had no idea that so many people were interested in her plans and she became even more worried as the seats began to fill quickly. She kept her head down and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, but it was harder than she thought. People seemed to be ranging themselves into two groups, those for and those against. The numbers looked to be in her favour, but in the growing crowd it was impossible to tell. She saw Anton Le Cam arrive and sit himself right at the back of the hall with the people she thought were against her plans. He smiled up at her apologetically. She smiled back at him. She didn’t mind his apparent disloyalty. She knew he was here for Patrick.
And then, just as the hall looked to be full to bursting point, Patrick himself limped in. She saw several people glance nervously over at him and then move their eyes away quickly.
Her heart leapt into her mouth and her throat felt dry. She had longed to see him for weeks, but not under these circumstances. She gazed at his lean face, trying to keep her breathing under control.
His hair was longer than the last time she had seen him and his face appeared thinner, his dark blue
eyes sought hers and just for a second she thought he was going to smile at her but then he pulled his eyebrows together fiercely and sat down next to Anton.
Her gaze dropped to the papers in front of her and she barely heard a word as the Maire called the meeting to order and began to outline her plans.
For a few moments after his initial address there was stunned silence and then suddenly murmuring broke out around the whole hall. She dared to look up to see if Patrick had been swayed in any way, but his seat was empty now. It was obvious that he had left before the end of the presentation.
The Maire invited the people to ask questions and although a translator was available, she answered them, in her improving but faltering French, as fully as she could. An hour later she was standing in the sunshine outside the town hall with all her permissions signed, sealed and delivered.
Several people came up to her and shook her hand. One elderly man cried openly in front of her, his arms waving as he gabbled on in rapid French reminiscing about the Second World War and then he kissed her several times on each cheek.
“I told you there would be nothing to worry about.” The Maire was beaming at her, patting her arm with genial familiarity. “It will be a privilege to have all your guests come to our town. They will be welcomed by every citizen. France would no longer be free if the British had not come to our aid. All of our soldiers have been forgotten for too long. I don’t know why your idea hasn’t been thought of before.”
“Perhaps I have more reasons than most to think about it Monsieur, but I really must be going. I have to go and see Mr. Reeves and get him to sign these papers, then I can make a proper start on the project.” Ellen slid through the gossiping crowd and walked back to her car.
She drove slowly back to the Chateau, peering through the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of Patrick as he made his way home. She was so tired, the day had been more stressful than she would have believed possible. She was more than relieved as she drove between the gateposts of the driveway, she could barely stay awake, but as she arrived at the end of the avenue of trees, her eyes opened wide in horror.