Harkett's Haven Page 8

  A sudden look of panic flitted across his face, ‘God Rachel, what’s the time?’

  Rachel checked her watch, ‘Two fifty.’

  ‘Shit.’ He leapt from the sofa and started retrieving his clothes from around the room.

  Rachel pulled the="el pulle blanket around her and couldn’t help smiling at the naked man tearing round her house, collecting his scattered clothes.

  ‘Is it 3:30 she gets out of school?’

  ‘No, 3:15. I’ll need all my time to get there.... Shit.’

  ‘I’m sorry Eric......’

  He raced to her and grabbed her, scooping her into his arms, holding her tight.

  ‘No sorrys necessary. Can you come for dinner tonight? Esme would love to see you.’

  She hesitated, unsure what to say for a moment, the answered decisively, ‘Soon maybe but not tonight. I’ve got a lot to catch up on.’

  He looked crestfallen for a moment and then said, ‘Tomorrow then and I’ll not take no for an answer.’

  He smiled at her and she was swept away by this beautiful man who had charmed her in a way that she would never have believed possible after her experience with Tom.

  ‘I’ll send you a message but I think, yeah, probably, that would be OK.’ She grinned at him.

  He buried his face in her neck and kissed her.

  ‘What I wouldn’t do to stay here longer...’

  She pushed him gently, reluctantly,

  ‘Go on Eric Harkett. You’ll be late.’

  He kissed her again and still pulling on his shoe, stumbled through the door.

  ‘Drive carefully Eric,’ she shouted after him.

  She stood at the door watching him as he disappeared off down the track and until he was long gone from sight, hugging the blanket tight around her.

  She turned to go back into the house when the wind and rain chilled her sufficiently to seek the shelter and warmth of her home.

  The rugs lay scattered on the sofa and Rachel felt a frisson of delight thinking of the time they had shared there.

  Eric was a strong and masterful lover, gentle and considerate. She couldn’t help compare his lovemaking with Tom’s. Disturbingly she was having frequent flashbacks to her time spent with Tom. She had tried her hardest to put him out of her mind but now he crept into her thoughts more and more. She wondered if this was a part of the healing process triggered by her developing relationship with Eric.

  She put some milk on the stove and made herself a hot chocolate, savouring the feel of the warm mug and made her way back to the sofa, curling up, warm and happy.

  Taking small sips of the sweet liquid she remembered the first date she had with Tom. After they spoke on the beach that first time, she had gone home, thinking nothing more of their meeting. She had been curled up on a deck chair reading a book on the porch of her cottage, when he had driven up in an Aston Martin, the car’s engine, rumbling low and threatening. He had introduced himself, asked her out t sced her o dinner. He was charming, confident and devastatingly handsome. She had refused, politely but firmly. She felt uneasy, even then, that he had made the effort to track her down. She was unnerved by his confidence. He asked if she would accompany him to dinner the following evening and she had made up an excuse, a lame one as she remembered. He didn’t give up, and had asked her out the day after that.

  She had decided there and then to tell him that she wasn’t interested as it was going to be the only way he would leave her alone. She told him and he shrugged and left. He visited again the following night. And the night after that and it was only then that she had relented and agreed to have dinner with him. He was resolute and although she was unnerved she was also flattered. He collected her from home, took her to the country house he was renting and hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. He was entertaining, charming and God, so handsome. He was also determined, intense and uncompromising. The alarm bells had rang, softly, so softly as they ate but she had silenced them, overriding her instincts. And so their relationship began.

  She jumped at a sound from the bathroom, her memories fragmenting and evaporating.

  ‘Hello?’ she said softly. No answer.

  She stood, ‘Hello?’ slightly louder this time.

  She walked towards the bathroom, annoyed with herself for being so easily spooked.

  Slowly she pushed open the door.

  Rachel gasped to see Claire crouched in a corner, wet mascara streaked face, eyes red from crying.

  6.

  ‘God, Claire. What are you doing here?’

  It suddenly occurred to Rachel that Claire must have been in the house since she returned back with Eric.

  She must have heard them talk, must have known what went on between the two of them. Had she watched them? Her stomach turned and roiled. What was she doing here?

  Her mind raced but she found herself frozen to the spot, unsure what to do or say.

  Claire pulled herself up to stand, her arms wrapped tight around herself.

  Rachel took a step back out of the room.

  ‘Claire. I don’t know what you’re doing here but I think you should leave right now.’ Her voice sounded muted and shaky.

  Claire sniffed and then smiled.

  ‘No Rachel Somerville. No.’ She paused and added, ‘Or should I say, Rachel Christensen.’

  Rachel felt the room spin around her and she grabbed the book shelf, feeling faint.

  Sensing the balance of power shift in her favour, Claire stepped from the bathroom and into the living area, moving to stand by Rachel, holding her arm to steady her.

  ‘Come and sit down. I have a few things to say.’ Rachel found herself being led to the sofa by the woman whose tears had now dried up, replaced by a small, tight smile set hard on her face.

  Rachel hadn’t heard her real surname spoken since she had left Tom. To hear it now from such an unexpected source was shocking. How had she found out?

  ‘Well Rachel Christensen,’ she said her name again, rolling her name slowly off her tongue, savouring it, ‘I’m just going to make myself a coffee and I reckon I’ll make you one too. Given what I’ve got to say, I’m going to add a bit of that whisky you’ve got sitting over there.....think we’ll both need it.’

  ‘How....how....do you know my name?’

  ‘Patience Rachel. Patience. I’ll explain everything.’

  Rachel sat as she was told, thoughts spinning, feeling like a trapped animal. She listened to the stranger in her house making herself at home, taking cups from her shelves, filling the kettle, searching drawers for the things she needed. The home she had made her bolt hole had become unsafe and she felt threatened and vulnerable in the place only minutes ago she had felt cocooned from all that she had fled; the carpet had been pulled from under her feet.

  She twisted the blanket in her hands, trying to compose herself and think clearly. She took a few deep, shuddering breaths.

  Claire appeared at her side and handed her a mug of coffee.

  ‘Take a sip.’

  Rachel did as she was asked and choked on the strong whisky, spiked drink.

  Claire laughed and sat on the single armchair beside the stove, leaning back into the soft cushions. She took a sip of her own drink, apparently relishing the strong liquor.

  She sat quietly and watched Rachel.

  ‘How long have you been in my house?’

  ‘Since you and Eric arrived back here. I hid in the bathroom.’

  ‘You saw....’

  ‘Yes.....I saw...’

  Rachel thought she was going to be sick. She took a gulp of the whisky spiked coffee, her face blanching.

  ‘You broke into my home.... I have every right to call the police.’

  ‘Yes. You do. But you won’t, will you.’

  Her voice was assured and calm and Rachel knew she was right. She could walk to the phone right now and call the police but she had to know what Claire had found out and how. She also didn’t want to draw attention to herself by making a co
mplaint to the police; it would draw all kinds of unwanted interest in a small place like this.

  ‘I want to explain a few things to you Rachel first. A few things about me and Eric.’ She tucked her feet up underneath her, looking relaxed and confident, gazing into the flickering flames of the stove.

  ‘I should lay my cards on the table. I wanted Ep> . I wanric the first time I saw him....when he first started working at the practice. He looks bloody great doesn’t he?’

  She glanced up at Rachel, looking for some acknowledgement but Rachel kept her eyes on her shaking hands which were twisting and knotting the corner of the blanket which was wrapped around her shoulders.

  ‘I made it my business to be around him whenever I could. Set about seducing him I guess you would say.....I knew a bit about his past....knew about Sarah. I dug round, looked in places that I shouldn’t by rights be looking in.’

  She shrugged, ‘Living in a place like this makes it easy to snoop. People rarely lock things away, lock doors. Even you Rachel. Left your door open. Fallen into country habits.’

  ‘You had no right....’

  ‘Of course I had no bloody right!’ Rachel jumped when Claire raised her voice angrily.

  The woman with the mascara streaked face sighed and relaxed again, slumping back into the chair.

  Rachel wished with all her heart that she hadn’t become involved with Doctor Eric Harkett. She had lived here anonymously and happily for the last six months and had gradually lost her fear of being discovered. Now that she had let someone into her life her security had vanished in the click of a finger. Whatever Claire wanted from her was going to mean change for her again. She felt a growing seed of anger inside her; anger at herself for being as stupid to think that she could trust someone again, to leave her past behind.

  ‘Anyway, Rachel. I made it my business to know about Eric Harkett because I wanted him....... I bet he hasn’t told you much about himself.’

  And he hadn’t. But her relationship with Eric could accurately be described as whirlwind. Sudden and intense. She didn’t need to know about his past and she hadn’t wanted to know.

  ‘He’s quite a guy, you know. He’s working here as a common or garden GP but he’s a cardiothoracic surgeon. A bloody good one. They’ve been trying to tempt him back ever since he arrived here.’

  Rachel lifted her head and watched Claire. The woman who had made herself so at home in her house continued to gaze into the flames. Rachel studied her. She was tall and willowy, large blue eyes. Her delicate, china-white hands clutched her cup tightly, giving away her underlying anger. She had pushed back her long, blonde hair behind her ear. She was a beautiful woman.

  ‘He’s worked in New York, then London. He was top of his game.’’

  ‘And then his wife, Sarah killed herself. Did you know that?’ She looked at Rachel, expecting shock. Rachel returned her gaze calmly, feeling more in control now, not wanting to give Claire any sign of emotion.

  ‘By all accounts he was a bit of a bastard to her. Never home, not interested......fucked anything that was on offer.’ She sighed.

  ‘There was always a lot on offer.’ She cast >

  ‘I think he had a sudden attack of guilt when Sarah took her life. Probably more for Esme than Sarah, I reckon.

  Why was Claire telling her this? What was it going to achieve? Why didn’t she just bloody get to the point ?

  ‘So he came here. Bought the house on the beach and took on one of the GP partners positions. Thought he would get to know his daughter better....make up for lost time. Make it up to her for pushing her mother over the edge.’

  Rachel took a drink of her coffee again, grimacing at the taste. Claire was right; she needed the fortification the strong alcohol provided.

  Claire smiled at her.

  ‘But that’s just one part of Dr Harkett’s life.... he’s a man of many talents....and secrets.’

  Rachel’s heart fell. How could she get involved with such a man? She had leapt from the frying pan into the fire.

  ‘He’s from a wealthy.....very wealthy Canadian family. His father .....and his father’s father were industrialists. Built up a vast fortune....but Eric turned his back in his family.’ She paused and smiled, that hard, tight smile again.

  ‘But hey. Rifts can be mended eh?’

  Rachel felt momentarily sorry for Eric. This was a woman who had a grand plan for him and one that she was to play a central part in.

  ‘He wants for nothing, he needs nothing. He plays at being the humble country doctor but he’s nothing of the sort.’ She looked coldly at Rachel, ‘He’s good at playing someone he’s not...something you both have in common.’

  Once again Rachel felt her stomach turn and she felt like retching.

  ‘So I made it my job to get into his bed. It wasn’t difficult.’

  She smirked and then winked at Rachel conspiratorially. Rachel squirmed in her seat, not wanting to hear her words but held in a trance she couldn’t break from.

  ‘I’ve been fucking him on and off for a year now. He’s not been faithful to me...but the other ones have never lasted long. He always comes back to me.’

  She paused to drink from her cup.

  ‘So....you can imagine my shock when he.....when he spelled out the way he thought he felt about me at his house that day.... the day I met you at his house. Finished it!’

  She spat out these last two words as if they left a bad taste in her mouth.

  ‘I saw him again at the MacKenzie boy’s place but he didn’t want to know.....you can imagine how this had made me feel.’

  ‘Please Claire. I didn’t know....’ Rachel felt she needed to explain her situation.

  Claire picked up her cup and threw it at the opposite wall in fury.

  ‘You just be qhinou justuiet.’ Claire’s voice was soft and menacing.

  Rachel gasped and shrank into the sofa.

  They sat in silence for a minute, Rachel not daring to say a word.

  Claire took a deep breath and having managed to compose herself again, picked up her story.

  ‘He’s never treated me like that before. He’d fucked a number of ....of....tarts while he was with me but he never threatened to leave me before. I wanted to know what you did to him. Who Rachel Somerville was.’

  ‘I couldn’t find anything on you to begin with but I spoke to Esme. She was helpful. Told me you’d come from somewhere in America. With the help of a map she remembered Connecticut.....I figured there might be something on-line about you and what do you know? I struck gold.’

  Her face had lit up with self-congratulatory smugness.

  ‘Of course, you were known as Rachel Christensen but the pictures were unmistakably you.’

  Rachel found herself holding her breath.

  ‘Your fiancé made headline news. He was jilted....the day before you were to be married.......and you .....gone without trace. Murder? Abduction? The fuck it was!’

  Claire watched her closely for a reaction. Rachel struggled to keep her face blank but she wasn’t going to let this woman get satisfaction from a show of emotion from her. She felt torn and stamped on inside. She had known that he would look for her. She hadn’t guessed that what she did would make headline news but that was naivety on her part. He was a rich, handsome man who gave a lot to the community he lived in. Well liked by many. She was the rags to riches girl, the lucky one he had taken for his own, to live a life pampered and spoilt. And she had disappeared without trace the day before they were to be married. Everyone like a mystery. Or a tragedy.

  ‘So what’s the story Rachel?’

  Claire watched her intently, interested; interested in the way a small boy is interested in what happens if he sticks a pin through an ant and watches it struggle. Rachel pondered denying everything but she figured that Claire had made sure of her facts before she had broken into her house and confronted her.

  Rachel remained silent for a moment.

  ‘My past is none of your business.’r />
  ‘Yes it bloody well is. You’ve made it my business.’ She spat her words out with venom and Rachel couldn’t help shrink back into her seat.

  For the first time, Rachel was genuinely scared about what this woman was capable of. She had broken into her home, had made detailed checks into both her and Eric’s past and was keeping her here with intent....well....intent to what? What did she want from her? Rachel’s instincts were to try and leave the house but she needed to know what Claire intended to do with the information she had worked so hard to get. She had to see this out.

  ‘He’s not given up looking for you, you know.’

  Inside she had always known that he wouldn’t. She had always hoped that another woman would catch his eye. But he wasn’t that kind of man. He had sworn his love for her. Bef

  ‘He knows you’re somewhere out there. To be honest, I don’t know how you’ve managed to evade being found for this amount of time......pity.’

  ‘Well Rachel. So here we are. I knew it was you the moment I saw your picture in the papers. But I had to check......make sure. I need to check your paperwork, find a passport.....just find something.....’

  She grimaced as if tasting something sour.

  ‘I went in to work Monday morning and found out that Eric had called in a locum to cover the surgery for the day and I knew where he’d be.’

  She looked at Rachel with so much undisguised hate that Rachel felt like she had been physically slapped.

  ‘So I carried on as normal for a short time and then....fainted. What do you know? Sent home......I wondered what to do then. Confront you both again? ...but although that would be instant gratification for me, I knew it would achieve nothing......wouldn’t get me what I wanted. I decided to head out here to see what was going on, unsure what I would do......I just needed to see what he was doing here.’

  Rachel sat and listened intently, her mind racing through her options skittishly. Claire knew who she was and who was looking for her. She wanted Eric and Rachel was in her way. Had she already contacted Tom? Was he on his way? Of course not. She had only just broken in to her house. Had she found what she wanted? Her passport was upstairs in a drawer. It would have been easily found. Could she still deny everything? Her thoughts were jumbled and confused, her fear making her thought processes jumpy and stuttering.