Alana’s face shot up. ‘How much?’
‘Err… well, quite a lot when she’s on a night out with her friends, but—’
‘How often does she go out?’ she fired, making Daniel swallow again. His mouth had become very dry.
‘Quite often. That’s how she met… John Jones.’
‘What does he do?’
‘He’s a…’ dickhead, thought Daniel, ‘… a musician apparently, he tours the… pubs.’
Alana rolled her eyes. ‘A two-bit singer without a professional job then?’
He was beginning to warm to her now. ‘Yes,’ he replied with force.
Alana nodded her head. ‘Well, I’ll be straight with you,’ she stated, staring into him. Daniel flinched. ‘You’ve got a good case. It won’t be easy – these things never are – but…’ she nodded her head again ‘…I think you’ve got substantial grounds for a Residence Order.’
‘You mean custody, right?’ His heart soared.
‘Yes. But I must counsel patience and, remember, I can’t promise anything.’
‘OK.’ Daniel had been given the first ray of hope since this whole sorry mess had started. He’d been interviewed, as had his parents; there had been visits, child reports and he felt like his whole life had been put under a microscope. Now here he was, frantically trying to build a home and future for himself and Emily.
18
Tobias made his way towards the woods to the Folly. An early evening dusk had settled over the Treweham Hall grounds and the sounds of the night forest echoed through the trees. In the distance he could see the Folly, illuminated now with beams of light strategically placed that Sebastian had had installed. It gave the building a dramatic, theatrical presence, completely striking the right tone. Outside people scurried about with urgent voices, putting together the last-minute arrangements for the opening show the following night.
Tobias stood back and watched the mayhem, smiling to himself with affection. He was pleased that his brother had finally found happiness, not only with his partner, but with his new business as well. The Folly Players too. There was no doubt that Sebastian was totally in his comfort zone as he gave instructions to the other actors, whilst still managing to make them laugh. He had a way with them, Tobias had noticed. People liked Sebastian. It was easy to see why, with his easy-going nature and humorous outlook on life.
His little brother had always stolen the show with his entertaining drama, often sending family and friends into hysterics, even Aunt Celia. He was a wicked mimic too, with a wide range of voices. Look how he had shone in his performance of Richard III. Tobias had been beyond proud of him. But there was something, deep down, that concerned him and he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He observed him as he walked holding a bundle of costumes in his arms. Tobias narrowed his eyes and scrutinised the way Sebastian’s left shoulder slightly rose and fell. He turned his gaze downwards to his left leg and saw how Sebastian’s stride didn’t flow naturally. He was limping.
Thinking back now, Tobias realised that he had noticed this before, but hadn’t thought too much about it – putting it down to fatigue, which Sebastian had complained of at the time. He’d known his brother had been to a physio too, but that was due to his forced posture whilst playing Richard III and having to hobble across a stage for weeks on end in character. But it looked like the limp hadn’t disappeared. Tobias cast his mind back to the other week when he’d seen Sebastian fall over and a disturbing feeling began to settle. The sooner he spoke to Marcus, the better. They were all coming to the opening night tomorrow, so hopefully he’d be able to confide in him then.
Sebastian turned and saw Tobias making his way through the small crowd.
‘Evening, my Lord.’ He bowed. ‘Good of you to call.’
Tobias grinned – typical Sebastian, always the player.
‘Yes, well I thought I’d see if you’re all set to go for the opening night.’
‘Think so.’ Sebastian suddenly looked anxious as he glanced round at the hub of activity. Nerves were clearly starting to kick in; it was all becoming very real now.
‘I’m sure it’ll all go to plan,’ Tobias reassured him. ‘Where’s Jamie?’
‘Inside, discussing lighting with the techies.’
‘They’ve done a good job lighting up the Folly.’ Tobias looked up at the tall, stone building in admiration.
‘They have,’ agreed Sebastian. He began hanging the costumes onto a rail. ‘There’ll be spotlights in the woods too, for a couple of the scenes.’
‘It sounds fantastic.’ Sebastian carried on with the costumes. For all his bravado, he actually found it hard to accept compliments. ‘Seriously, Sebastian, well done.’ Tobias patted his back.
‘Thanks, bro.’ He looked straight at him, giving him his full attention. Tobias decided to broach the subject that was on his mind.
‘Is everything—’ But he was suddenly interrupted by a flustered Jamie.
‘Seb, we need you in here a minute!’
‘No rest for the wicked.’ Sebastian rolled his eyes in good humour. ‘Got to go, Tobias, but see you tomorrow?’
Tobias smiled. ‘Absolutely, we’ll all be here, cheering you on.’
19
Flora snuggled up to Dylan and felt his whole body turn rigid. She frowned, finding the response unusual. Normally he would turn and envelop her into a warm hug, loving the feel of her skin on his. But not tonight. In fact, on reflection, not for a few nights now. She recalled how instead of stretching out his arms in welcome, he had slept with his back to her. As broad and muscular as it was, Flora was beginning to sense a form of rejection and missed being held by the man she adored. What was wrong?
‘Dylan?’ she whispered, kissing his neck. Still no response. She paused for a moment, then turned on her back when hearing his gentle snores. Flora gazed up at the ceiling. She knew he couldn’t be asleep so soon, especially when he was obviously so tense and stiff. What on earth was the matter? Had he guessed she had defied him by signing up to race Phoenix? But how? And surely the first thing he’d do would be to confront her, not give her the silent treatment; that just wasn’t his style. Then another dark thought crept into her head, one that had often strayed and trespassed through her mind before. Was there someone else? Had Dylan been unfaithful? Gulping back tears, she turned on her side and fought hard to sleep.
Dylan lay still. It was torture resisting Flora’s kisses, when all he badly wanted to do was ravish her. He missed that soft, sweet body under his as he sunk into her, loving the taste and smell of the girl who had stolen his heart. And now his heart was breaking. Literally, he could physically feel a sharp pain in his chest, which utter sorrow brought. Flora, his beautiful, stubborn soul mate, who was more in tune with him than any other human being.
A tear plopped out of the corner of his eye and dribbled onto his pillow. How could she? Sheer anger replaced the heartbreak when the memory of her and Josh’s embrace in the stables stung him. He’d rip the bastard apart, once the point-to-point was over and he’d done his last job by riding for him. Once that was over, he’d give Josh his marching orders, plus a good hiding to boot.