I wanted to read more, but my head was beginning to spin again. I thought of Mum’s packed wardrobes. How she had put a brave face on things and presented a pristine façade to the world when the truth behind the mask was one of sadness and heartbreak. Up until now I had never really understood why Dad was incapable of grieving for her, but now I realized he hadn’t loved her at all.
Suddenly I didn’t much care whether I was letting Dad down or if Chris was capable of running the office or not. I had to get away as soon as I could and I was going to take Mum’s diary with me.
*
I was back at work early the next morning and, following my mother’s example, I was immaculately made up, dressed to impress and ensconced behind my desk long before any of the others arrived.
I had been hard pushed not to drive over to the house and confront Dad, but common sense won out. I wouldn’t be talking to him until I had read everything Mum had written and I had my emotions firmly back under control. All I wanted from this early appearance at the office was to maintain my composure and take off with my dignity intact.
‘Tess,’ said Chris, his confident stride across the floor faltering when he spotted me. ‘We weren’t expecting you in. Are you sure you’re all right to be here?’
‘Yes,’ I said as I briskly grouped together the papers on my desk. ‘Thank you. I’m fine now.’
‘What have you got there?’ he frowned, beadily eyeing the file.
‘The Vicky Price contract and paperwork.’
‘Oh.’
‘I wanted to make sure nothing had been overlooked.’
‘Now, about that,’ he swallowed, nervously running a finger around the inside of his collar.
‘It looks like you’ve thought of everything,’ I said, raising my eyebrows. ‘There’s nothing left for me to do at all.’
‘Well, your father thought it was best to act as quickly as possible, what with the advertiser clamouring to start filming the ads, and I—’
‘You,’ I said, cutting him off, ‘thought you would take advantage of the fact that I wasn’t around and claim a rather substantial victory for yourself.’
His face began to turn an interesting shade of red.
‘Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that,’ he objected.
‘How would you put it then?’
I had spotted Lucy loitering in the doorway. Hearing my question, she backtracked and quietly closed the door. Chris opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a fairground goldfish gasping for air in its plastic bag.
‘Come on, Chris, you’ll have to do better than that if you’re going to survive at Tyler PR,’ I said robustly. ‘You have to have an instant answer for everything, and the right one at that, if you want to continue impressing my father.’
‘I’m so sorry, Tess.’
‘Don’t apologize,’ I told him. ‘Never apologize. Mr Tyler would hate that.’
‘What?’
The poor chap looked as though he didn’t have a clue what was going on.
‘Oh, it’s all right,’ I said, deciding he had squirmed for long enough. ‘I’m congratulating you, Chris. On a job well done.’
‘What?’ he said again, looking more like a fish out of water than ever.
‘Hats off to you,’ I said, putting the paperwork back into its folder and holding it out for him to take. ‘You saw an opportunity and you took it.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘Had I been in your position, I would have done exactly the same. To tell you the truth, I probably would have been disappointed in you if you hadn’t.’
He still didn’t look as though he believed me.
‘Dad is going be promoting you in no time,’ I told him. ‘Just make sure the digital contract matches the paper one exactly. You know the system glitches occasionally and that’s the last thing we want, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Yes,’ he finally said, his voice cracking before he cleared his throat. ‘I was planning to cross reference everything this morning. It’s the reason why I’ve come in so early.’
‘You’re not that early,’ I said pointing at the office clock. ‘You need to set your alarm a bit earlier if you really want to get the jump on me.’
The rest of the morning passed without incident. Lucy told me that Dad had left word the day before saying that he was going to work from home, which was a huge relief, and with the contract clutched tight in Chris’s competent hands I took some time that afternoon to trawl the internet in search of the perfect getaway, but it was easier said than done.
The whole world was literally just a flight away but I couldn’t make up my mind where to go. I had all but given up on my search and was about to log out of my computer, when an email pinged into my personal inbox . . .
Dear Miss Tyler, I’m mailing to inform you that Crow’s Nest Cottage has become available for the next two weeks due to an unexpected cancellation. I appreciate that it is extremely short notice, but if you could let me know if you are still interested in renting the cottage from this Monday – the 18th – I will be happy to renegotiate the price. Looking forward to hearing from you. Sam
Chapter 3
Needless to say, given my acknowledgement that I needed to look after myself and my recent discovery about Dad’s behaviour, I didn’t feel even a hint of guilt as I typed that I was indeed interested in taking the cottage for the next two weeks. My vertigo, coupled with Joan’s timely words about work and Mum’s heart-wrenching diary entries, were all the proof I needed that I was taking the right course of action and just in the nick of time.
I was going to Wynmouth without a backwards glance, although not a clear conscience. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to forgive myself for not spotting the signs of Dad’s philandering. I should have been there to support Mum but instead, I had been so obsessed with work, I’d been oblivious, but not anymore. I was going to spend the next two weeks re-evaluating my life and my relationships and get myself back on the right track. It was too late to make a difference with Mum, but learning the lesson would be the best way to respect her memory.
I held my breath as I dialled the home number to make my excuses for not being able to carry on clearing Mum’s things as we’d planned when I left the weekend before and prayed that Dad wouldn’t be the one to answer.
‘The Tyler residence.’
It was a relief to hear Joan’s voice. Explaining to her that I still wasn’t up to scratch would be a doddle and, if she relayed my message, then I wouldn’t have to speak to Dad at all. I could send him a text on Monday saying that Chris was in charge and that I would be back at work in a fortnight. Simple.
‘Hi Joan,’ I said, ‘it’s me.’
‘Tess, love,’ she said, quickly dropping the formal tone. ‘How are you feeling? Did you go to work today?’
‘Yes,’ I swallowed, ‘yes I did, and I think I overdid it a bit.’
It was only a little bit of a lie. I was pretty tired.
‘There,’ Joan tutted. ‘I told you not to rush back, didn’t I?’
‘I know.’
‘I take it you won’t be coming tomorrow then,’ she stated, rather than asked. ‘I’ll tell your father not to expect you.’