Page 17 of Someone For Everyone

‘I know what you mean, Leeds is the same. I miss the noise.’ He went over to collect her suitcase from the roadside. ‘The village is full of strange noises, most of them harmless.’

‘Most of them?’

He carried her suitcase over to his car. ‘Not worried by a few scary stories, are you?’

‘Of course not.’ She glanced into the woods one last time, before following him over to the safety of the vehicle. He obviously hadn’t seen the strange man in the red coat, so she wasn’t going to mention it – he’d think she was nuts. Even morenuts than he probably already suspected. And that was the last thing she needed – he might rethink his decision to employ her.

Having loaded her suitcase into the boot of his sporty Mazda, he opened the passenger door. ‘After you.’

‘I’m all wet and muddy,’ she said, staring at the pristine upholstery. ‘I’ll mess up your fancy car.’

‘It’ll wash off,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

Shrugging off her jacket, she turned it inside out and placed it over the seat. ‘All the same, I’d rather not make a mess.’

He waited until she was buckled in before closing the door and heading around to the driver’s side. Her new client might unnerve her, but she’d rather be trapped inside a vehicle with him than endure another moment dealing with the spooky elements of Pluckley. And she’d thought country life would be relaxing?

He climbed in beside her and started the engine. ‘How was your journey?’

‘Good, thanks.’ She risked a glance at him as the interior light faded. He was just as impressive as she remembered. His hair was tied up, exposing the shaved section underneath, and his expensive watch glinted in the light, the chunky metal strap poking out from beneath the sleeve of his Abercrombie & Fitch hoodie. He matched the car – sleek, sporty and powerful.

If Calvin Johnson was the high-end version of cars, she was a fairground dodgem, with poor steering, fading paintwork and suffering from one too many crashes.

Shoving the vehicle into gear, he drove off at such speed, she instinctively reached out to grab the handle. When a bowing tree branch smacked against the window, she ducked.

He glanced over. ‘Am I driving too fast?’

‘It’s fine,’ she lied, unwilling to admit to her aversion to speed, along with her other foibles. She was already feeling enough of a flake as it was.

‘Sorry, it’s a bad habit of mine,’ he said, slowing down. ‘My granny’s always telling me off for driving too fast.’

For some reason this surprised her. It seemed odd for such a successful man to be worried about what an elderly relative thought about his driving.

True to his word, he slowed to a gentler speed and continued along the dark lanes, without causing her belly to flip. She was grateful.

‘I wasn’t sure whether you would’ve eaten,’ he said, decelerating when a sharp bend came into view. ‘I asked our chef, Geraldine, to make you something. I hope soup’s okay. It’s in the microwave, ready to be warmed up.’

Kate’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten tonight, mainly because her appetite hadn’t been great of late, but the idea of home-made soup definitely appealed. ‘That’s kind of her, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.’

‘She was happy to help,’ he said, with a shrug. ‘I’ve made up a room for you. It can be a bit chilly in the home, as the windows aren’t double-glazed, but I lit the fire before I left, so the room should be warm when you arrive.’

Surely he hadn’t made up the room himself? He’d probably instructed the housekeeping staff to do it. She couldn’t imagine him tucking in bedsheets and wrestling with a duvet cover – he didn’t seem the type. Still, it was nice of him to light a fire for her. ‘You didn’t have to go to so much effort. I’m here to work, not have a holiday.’

‘You need to be comfy, especially as you’ll be here a while. Besides, I don’t want you changing your mind and leaving me.’ He glanced over. ‘I need you.’

‘I need you, too,’ she said instinctively, before cringing with embarrassment. ‘Sorry… I mean, well… you know… professionally.’

A brief smile tugged at his lips. ‘I know what you meant.’

He returned to concentrating on driving. She was glad. Interactions with Calvin Johnson had an unnerving effect on her.

Now that they were travelling at a sensible speed, she was able to relax and enjoy the warmth from the car heater circling her legs. She looked out of the window, watching the damp smearing against the glass, and listened to the hypnotic swish of the windscreen wipers.

As they drove through the narrow twisted lanes, an imposing church spire came into view above the treetops. Further down the road they hit a fork with a set of wooden signs that signalled left for Devil’s Bush and straight ahead for Fright Corner. The dog walker hadn’t been making up the names, then.

‘This is where they had a bad lightning strike,’ Calvin said, pointing to where a massive, blackened oak tree loomed ahead.

The sky suddenly lit up with a flash of lightning and she could see a big split running down the middle of the trunk. It was a wonder the thing was still standing, but as she’d already discovered, the dead liked to reside in Pluckley.

---