He reached out to touch her arm then thought better of it and let his hand drop by his side and cursed himself for the umpteenth time. He had to apologise, and tell her he had spoken in anger, but to do so he wanted to be alone with her, not surrounded by noise and people.
‘Could we go somewhere quiet for a few minutes? I really need to talk to you.’
She cast him an angry glare and shook her head. ‘What makes you think I want to talk to you? You said more than enough the other night…’ She turned on her heels and pushed her way through the crowd to the ladies’ toilets.
He deserved that, but he didn’t like this feeling of helplessness, this sensation of having rusty nails pushed slowly into his heart. He had hurt her, and if he could never take his words back, at least he had to apologise properly.
Big Jim tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a cup of mulled wine. ‘I wouldn’t take too much notice if Cassie is a bit cranky tonight. She’s had a bad day. The police came to see her about the burglaries around the village. There have been nasty rumours circulating about her, and she lost a few clients.’
‘What rumours?’
‘Some people said that she was involved in the burglaries,’ Big Jim said.
Stefan’s fingers contracted on his glass. ‘She’s done nothing wrong,’ he said in a gruff voice.
‘I know that, but you know what some people are like.’
‘Thanks for telling me. And thanks for the drink.’ Stefan took his mulled wine and walked over to Joseph’s table. He had to tell him about Morse. Then he’d drive to the campsite and confront the man himself. Talking to Cassie would have to wait…
Chapter Thirty-Seven
She wasn’t ready to face her family, not when her heart beat so hard and her whole being was in turmoil… Stefan was back. He said he wanted to talk, but what was the point? She knew what he thought of her. And yet despite it all, she couldn’t stop her feelings for him. Couldn’t stop wanting him. Couldn’t stop loving him.
It had been hard enough going to Belthorn every day – her footsteps echoing in the empty house, her fingers trailing on the clothes he’d left behind that carried his fresh, masculine scent, and her thoughts flowing back to the tender and passionate moments they had shared in his bed, on the sofa, in front of the fire in the drawing room downstairs; her body remembering his heated whispers and caresses, and the way his eyes darkened and his body tensed and hardened as he moved above her, inside her; and her heart remembering his sweet goodnight kisses. He had trusted her with his most traumatic memories. She had told him about her nightmarish events at Wolf Tarn. They had shared more than hot kisses and intimate embraces.
Or so she thought… How could he believe, even for a second, that she had faked all that for the sake of a few thousand pounds?
She let out a resigned sigh. Whatever he had to say could wait until she went to Belthorn the following day.
Big Jim’s booming voice was announcing the results of the comedy contest as she walked out of the toilets. She held her breath and crossed her fingers but she already knew that her granddad wouldn’t win tonight. He hadn’t been his usual sparkling self. He had been hesitant, had forgotten a few lines. He had even resorted to standard Christmas cracker jokes, even though that was against the competition rules. Thank goodness she’d had the good idea to bring her notes to prompt him when he faltered.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Big Jim started, ‘I am delighted to crown our new Comedy Queens – yes, you heard me right, Comedy Queens, the wonderfully talented mimes Chantelle and Neve. Girls, if you care to come on the stage to receive your prize…’
Cassie’s heart sank. She knew it would be hard for her granddad to win again this year, but it was still a shock and she dare not look at him for fear of seeing the sadness and disappointment on his face.
Clapping and cheering erupted as the mimes, still in costume and with their face paint on, hopped on stage, smiling and giggling to receive a bottle of champagne each.
Big Jim waited until the noise had died down. ‘But that’s not all. This year, we are awarding a lifetime achievement prize to a very dear and very special friend – Joseph Bell, our comedy king for the past fifteen years.’
This time the noise inside the pub was deafening, and Cassie’s eyes filled with tears as her grandfather climbed on the stage, helped by Tim and Rachel. Big Jim gave him a bottle of special ale that he clutched against his chest as he took the microphone again.
‘What can I say, folks? Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.’ His voice shook and his eyes were shiny. ‘It has been an honour to perform here every year for so long, but it’s time to bow out.’ He pulled a comical face. ‘I’m getting on in years, and I’m losing my marbles.’
‘Tell us something we don’t know!’ one of his old friends shouted.
Nodding to the two mimes, he added. ‘Ladies, you were brilliant, but you look awfully young to me. Do your parents know you’re mimes, or have you kept that quiet?’
Everybody laughed. He didn’t seem upset by the judges’ decision in the slightest, quite the opposite in fact.
‘Look everybody, I can do miming too,’ he said, making a kind of wiping gesture as if he was cleaning a window.
‘What are you doing, you muppet?’ another of his friends shouted.
‘I’m cleaning windows,’ he replied, ‘which reminds me of a bloke who told me the other day that his wife had left him for the window cleaner. He was a bit upset, as you can imagine, but I told him not to worry. “She’ll be back”, I said, “when she realises that the glass isn’t always cleaner on the other side.”’
He bowed to the applauding audience, and, still clutching his large bottle of real ale, sat back at the table.
‘Well done, Granddad!’ She bent down to kiss his cheek. ‘Are you not too disappointed to have lost your crown?’
He gave her a smile. ‘I’m not disappointed at all, Trifle. Those two girls were funny, even if they didn’t say a word. It was high time I passed the baton on. And to tell the truth, I like real ale better than champagne.’ He frowned. ‘Although I may need to drink something stronger than beer after what Lambert told us.’
Immediately, her heartbeat picked up again. Frowning, she looked around, but Stefan was nowhere to be seen. ‘Why? What did he say?’
‘It was about young Darren, and you’ll never guess. Apparently, the scoundrel has been fleecing old folks all over the country.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He makes himself useful to old people, pretending to fix stuff whilst all the time taking money or bank details from them to rob them. Lambert said that he believes Morse even interferes with their medication to make them confused.’
He shook his head. ‘That’s what he must have done to me too, and I never suspected anything. I thought there was something wrong with me for dozing off during the day and not remembering things.’
‘How does Stefan know all this?’
‘He went to places where Darren worked and talked to people.’
‘I see.’ So many things fell into place suddenly.
Her granddad frowned. ‘You don’t seem overly surprised, Trifle.’