She’d fallen the rest of the way in love with him in that instant, but it had been almost two years before their relationship had moved on and fantasy and reality had begun to merge.
He’d gone away to uni, but they’d seen each other every holiday, spent every waking moment together, and the kisses had become more urgent, more purposeful, and way more grown up.
And then, the weekend after her eighteenth birthday, he’d taken her to the house. He wouldn’t tell her why, just that it was a surprise, and then he’d led her up to the master bedroom and opened the door, and she’d been enchanted.
He’d set the scene—flickering candles in the fireplace, a thick blanket spread out on the moth-eaten carpet and smothered in petals from the wisteria outside the window, the scent filling the room—and he’d fed her a picnic of delicate smoked salmon and caviar sandwiches and strawberries dipped in chocolate, and he’d toasted her in pink champagne in little paper cups with red hearts all over the outside.
And then, slowly and tenderly, giving her time even though it must have killed him, he’d made love to her.
She’d willingly given him her virginity; they’d come close so many times, but he’d always stalled her. Not that day. That day, when he’d finally made love to her, he’d told her he’d love her forever, and she’d believed him because she loved him, too. They’d stay together, get married, have the children they both wanted, grow old together in the heart of their family. It didn’t matter where they lived or how rich or poor they were, it was all going to be perfect because they’d have each other.
But two years down the line, driven by ambition and something else she couldn’t understand, he’d changed into someone she didn’t know and everything had fallen apart. Their dream had turned into a nightmare with the shocking intrusion of a reality she’d hated, and she’d left him, but she’d been devastated.
She hadn’t been back here in the last nine years, but just before Josh was born she’d heard on the grapevine that he’d bought it. Bought their house, and was rescuing it from ruin.
She and David had been at a dinner party, and someone from English Heritage was there. ‘I gather some rich guy’s bought Easton Court, by the way—Sebastian something or other,’ he’d said idly.
‘Corder?’ she’d suggested, her whole body frozen, her mind whirling, and the man had nodded.
‘That’s the one. Good luck to him. It deserves rescuing, but it’s a good job he’s got deep pockets.’
The conversation had moved on, ebbing and flowing around her while she’d tried to make sense of Sebastian’s acquisition, but David had asked her about him as they were driving home.
‘How do you know this Corder guy?’
‘He was a friend of my brother’s,’ she said casually, although she was feeling far from casual. ‘His family live in that area.’
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth and she’d felt a little guilty, but she’d been shocked. No, not shocked. Surprised, more than anything. She’d thought he’d walked away from everything connected to that time, as she had, and the fact that he hadn’t had puzzled her. Puzzled and fascinated and horrified her, all at once, because of course it was so close to home, so near to her parents.
Too close for comfort.
But a few days later Josh had been born, and then only weeks after that David had died and her whole world had fallen apart and she’d forgotten it. Forgotten everything, really, except holding it all together for Josh.
But every time since then that she’d visited her parents, she’d avoided the lane, just as she had today—until she’d had no choice.
Her heart thudded against her ribs. Was he in there, behind those intimidating and newly renovated gates? Alone? Or sharing their house with someone else, someone who didn’t share the dream—
She cut that thought off before she could follow it. It didn’t matter. The dream didn’t exist any longer, and she’d moved on. She’d had to. She was a mother now, and there was no time for dreaming. She dragged her eyes and her mind away from the imposing gates and the man who might or might not be behind them, flashed her son a smile to remind her of her priorities and made herself drive on.
Except her car had other ideas. It slithered wildly as she tried to pull away, and the snow swirled around them, the wind battering the car ferociously, reminding her as nothing else could just how perilous their situation was. Gripping the wheel tighter, her heart pounding, she pressed the accelerator again more cautiously and drove on, almost blinded by the blizzard.
Before she’d gone more than a few feet she hit a drift with her right front wheel, and her car slewed round and came to rest across the road, wedged up against the bank behind her. After a few moments of spinning the wheels fruitlessly, she slammed her hand on the steering wheel and stifled a scream of frustration tinged with panic.
‘Mummy?’
‘It’s OK, darling. We’re just a teeny bit stuck. I need to have a look outside. I won’t be long.’
She tried to open her door, but it wouldn’t budge, and she wound the window down and peered out into the blizzard, shielding her eyes from the biting sting of the snow crystals that felt as if they were coming straight from the Arctic.
She was up against a snowdrift, rammed tight into it, and there was no way she’d be able to open the door. She shut the window fast and shook the snow out of her hair.
‘Wow! That was a bit blowy!’ she said with a grin over her shoulder, but Josh wasn’t reassured.
‘Don’t like it, Mummy,’ he said, his lip wobbling ominously.
Nor do I. And I don’t need them walking in a winter wonderland on the radio!
‘It’s fine, Josh. It’s just snowing a bit fast at the moment, but it won’t last. I’ll just get out of the other door and see why we’re stuck.’
‘No! Mummy stay!’
‘Darling, I’ll be just outside. I’m not going away.’
‘P’omise?’
‘I promise.’
She blew him a kiss, scrambled across to the passenger side and fought her way out into the teeth of the blizzard to assess the situation. Difficult, with the biting wind lashing her hair across her eyes and finding its way through her clothes into her very bones, but she checked first one end of the car, then the other, and her heart sank.
It was firmly wedged, jammed between the snowdrift she’d run into on the right and the snow that had fallen down behind them, probably dislodged as she’d slid sideways. The car had embedded itself firmly against the right bank, and there was nothing she could do. She could never dig it out alone with her bare hands, not with the snow drifting so rapidly off the field in the howling wind. It was already a few inches deep. Soon the exhaust pipe would be covered, and the engine would stall, and they’d die of cold.
Literally.
Their only hope, she realised as she shielded her eyes from the snow again and assessed the situation, lay in the house behind those beautiful but intimidating gates.
Easton Court. The home of Sebastian Corder, the man she’d loved with all her heart, the man she’d left because he’d been chasing something she couldn’t understand or identify with at the expense of their relationship.
He’d expected her to drop everything and follow him into a lifestyle she hated, abandoning her career, her family, even her principles, and when she’d asked him to reconsider, he’d refused and so she’d walked away, leaving her heart behind...
And now her life and the life