The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ some control. Once he knew he was going there would be no turning back. She couldn’t even imagine what she would do with herself that weekend. Before she could change her mind, she went back to the dining room.

      ‘I was thinking, Sarah – Jamie’s got a trip coming up at the end of November – one of those activity weekends for kids. There’s rock climbing, abseiling … that type of thing. I’m a bit nervous about it to be honest, the thought of him doing all those things.’ Eva forced a little laugh, not feeling natural to be confiding in her sister.

      ‘Anyway, why don’t you come up to St Andrews that weekend? There are some great restaurants. We could go for a few walks, maybe open a few bottles of wine. I think there’s even a winter market on that weekend.’

      Sarah looked at her blankly. ‘Sorry, what? Oh no, I’ll be busy that weekend.’

      ‘But I didn’t even say which – you know, it doesn’t matter.’ Eva felt her shoulders slump, suddenly deflated. She gathered the linen napkins from the table, absently admiring the orchid design on them.

      ‘I’d better go and find Jamie and Mum,’ she muttered, not waiting to hear if Sarah replied. In the gleaming new kitchen Eva stood helplessly for a moment. She wished she didn’t have to leave feeling this way. She told herself she’d be home soon, home to her sanctuary. But even that didn’t feel the same any more without the MacKenzies being there. A sudden image of Ben Matthews came into her head and she found herself wondering how he was spending his Sunday.

      ***

      Ben had woken late on Sunday, surprised he had slept for so long. In the kitchen he looked out of the window at the inky grey sky and wondered if it rained here every day. Realizing he was hungry he took eggs from the fridge, deciding to make an omelette. After he had eaten maybe he would go for a walk, explore the town some more. He could buy a paper and come back and read it at leisure.

      It still felt odd having Sundays free. Every Sunday for the past five years he had visited his mother at Cartvale care home. He tried but usually failed to fit in a midweek visit too if work allowed. But he would always spend the whole Sunday with her no matter what. If she was having a good day, they’d walk in the local park or perhaps even have lunch somewhere.

      In some ways, Ben had started to grieve for his mother years before she actually died. The strong woman who had brought him up alone after his father had died started to disappear long before her diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer’s. Yet even now at odd moments like this, the grief and guilt could creep up on him, its severity taking him by surprise. He took a deep breath, sloshing hot water over the coffee granules in a mug, determined not to go there.

      In the dining room – now Ben’s makeshift office – he cleared a space on the table for his plate and ate hungrily. He flicked through a few of the papers and books in front of him, his mound of reading to catch up on. His meeting at the university had gone well on Friday. Meeting up with Professor Drummond had felt like reclaiming something valuable from his old life.

      A slightly eccentric Scot, he had guided Ben through his PhD at Oxford University with patience, wisdom, and more than the odd dram of whisky. Ben had respected him so much and always felt he had let him down in some way, turning his back on research and going to work as an analyst in the city.

      But the Professor had never passed judgement and had understood Ben’s need to earn the type of money you couldn’t earn in academia. Ben hadn’t been surprised when he discovered his old Professor was now at St Andrews, the oldest university in Scotland. An image of him came to Ben’s mind, sitting by a roaring fire with a tumbler in hand. But Ben knew his Professor’s easy charm was matched by his ferocious intelligence. He was still at the forefront of research into gravitational waves. Ben had read his recently published paper, and knew he wanted to be part of it again.

      He had responded to Ben’s email with all the enthusiasm Ben remembered. They both knew it wasn’t an obvious or easy option to return to academia from the world of finance but in typical style Professor Drummond had seen it as a positive, not a negative. ‘Be good to get some fresh blood into the place, a new perspective. Things can get a bit stuffy in academia.’

      After several exchanged emails, Ben had a formal interview via Skype with the Professor and two of his colleagues in the department. He had been questioned in detail about his plans for research – and more importantly, what funding he would obtain. He had listed the grants he could apply for, what journals he would publish in. Ben had studied the curriculum and courses on offer for students and expressed his willingness to be flexible, happy to fit in with the department’s teaching requirements but also had some ideas of his own about teaching.

      When the Professor had phoned offering him a position, Ben felt exhilarated. The realization that he wasn’t going back to working in the city came as a relief but he didn’t underestimate what lay ahead of him. Ben and Professor Drummond had chatted as they walked around the university grounds, Ben admiring the ivy-clad buildings and absorbing the buzz of students milling around. He had been shown around the department and introduced to a few people.

      They’d agreed Ben would start with a few hours’ teaching next week before going full-time the following week. Until then Ben would take some time to acclimatize to his new surroundings. Finishing his breakfast Ben stood up, leaving the dishes on the table. He’d start with a walk on the beach.

       Chapter Four

      Eva was nursing a cup of tea. She stared at her phone, an air of gloom still hanging over her after seeing her mum and sister yesterday. The day was chilly and damp and she pulled her cardigan tightly around her. Thinking back to the strained atmosphere between her and Sarah, she debated with herself whether to text her or not.

      She let out a deep sigh. It was ridiculous to feel so unsure about contacting her own sister. Maybe she should just forget the whole thing, pretend everything was fine until the next time. But deep down it pained her. She wanted at least to be on civil terms with Sarah.

      Memories of her father had also been haunting her, as was often the case after being in her old home – almost as if her grief had been renewed in some way. It wasn’t just the physical pain of missing him, the horrible gaping hole he’d left in her life. It was her disappointment and frustration that he’d never see what she had achieved.

      Eva gave herself a little shake. All this indecisiveness was no good. Before she could regret it, she tapped out a message to Sarah repeating her offer to stay for a weekend and pressed send. Eva startled as Hamish suddenly let out a bark at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

      Seeing Greg Ritchie standing on her doorstep wasn’t the most welcome sight but Eva summoned a smile. ‘Hello, Greg.’

      ‘Eva, hi. How are you?’ He flashed a dazzling smile.

      ‘I’m very well, thanks. And you?’

      ‘Good, good. Could I have a minute of your time?’ Eva widened the door holding on to Hamish’s collar and allowing Greg to pass. She suppressed a little shudder as he stepped in. Something about Greg Ritchie’s practised smooth manner always made her feel uneasy. He had certainly found a look and stuck with it, she thought, acknowledging his customary well-cut suit, polished shoes, and slicked-back hair.

      The owner of one of the largest hotels in St Andrews, he had been one of the first people to introduce himself to Eva, offering to ‘show her the ropes’. He had insisted she accompany him to a networking event. ‘It’s important to keep in touch with other businesspeople СКАЧАТЬ