“Point taken. Then maybe Raine was assisting Damian with an event. What did you say she did for a living?”
“I didn’t. But she worked part-time in a local naturopathic store. Selling and advising on alternative medicines, vitamins, herbs. That kind of thing.”
“She ever do any work in your restaurant? Wait tables or serve drinks?”
“Not a chance in hell. Raine, for all her positive traits, was naturally uncoordinated where restaurant or kitchen work was concerned. The only position she’d have suited brilliantly would have been the maître d’s role: meet, greet, and seat guests. But I already had those roles filled. And it’s not a job a caterer needs.”
“Still, it can’t do any harm giving these numbers a ring and checking if they remember having had any bookings from Stone or Bradford. Leave that with me and I’ll call you if I find anything.”
On their way out, Daniel thanked Ken for being so helpful and compliant, but Marcus stopped at the door and pulled out something from his wallet.
“Look, Ken. I know how hard it is to lose someone you care for. And this doesn’t really go anywhere near to helping fill that hole. But if you do find yourself uptown with a friend and fancy a free meal at Old Country—anything you want, my treat—just show this card to the head waiter. Or give me a call beforehand and I’ll make sure we reserve a table for you.”
“Wow,” said Ken, clearly taken aback. “That’s really… that’s really nice. Thanks, Marcus. One last favor?”
“Go on.”
“Any chance of a selfie with you? Otherwise my mates will never believe you were here in my home.”
Daniel patiently took the photos on Ken’s phone, shaking his head and smiling. But even he seemed pleased with Marcus as he drove him back to the restaurant.
Chapter Nine
SOMETHINGwas up.
All day Marcus had gone out of his way to be cordial and civil to Tom. Overnight he had made a conscious decision to manage his emotions around the man. Nothing overfriendly, simply nodding in all the right places and answering questions and making sure his topics of conversation centered mainly around the girls. But Tom had barely spoken to him or made eye contact the whole day. Eventually, after asking twice if Tom was okay and getting a curt “fine” in response, he gave up trying and concentrated on keeping the girls entertained.
When Marcus first reached their house that dreary Sunday, he had walked in on Charlotte insisting they “go and see Mummy” before heading to the farm. Privately Marcus had been pleased to have been included in the family ceremony. As usual, they’d taken Tom’s car and had driven to the cemetery together. Initially Marcus had ascribed Tom’s moodiness to the somber ritual. He’d ached to tell Tom what he’d learned about Damian Stone, but he had never found the right time. Then, while Tom and Charlotte went to pick wildflowers together, Marcus had stayed under his huge umbrella with Katie.
Once they were on their way, apart from the awful weather—Sunday had brought the kind of light but nagging rain that fell constantly, not letting up for even a minute—the farm had been a delight. Small working farms like these managed to thrive by charging an affordable entrance fee, but then having farmhands explain to groups of children how farms worked and how produce ended up on their tables. And of course, there was always the farm shop, where you could buy homegrown organic produce. Even though this particular farm kept the story nice and simple, easy for the kids to understand without going into some of the more brutal details, Marcus could see Katie deep in thought when Charlotte was feeding one of the small pigs or petting a young calf’s head.
Fortunately the girls’ excitement and enthusiasm made the day for Marcus. Charlotte, in her bright yellow Wellington boots, purposely wading through puddles, reminded Marcus so much of a young Raine. And when Katie gasped on seeing the ponies, Marcus saw immediately how mesmerized she had become.
“Tom, would it be okay for Katie to ride one of the ponies?”
Tom had been keeping an eye on Charlotte, who currently stared mesmerized through the slats of a fence as a woman in dungarees fed a rowdy brood of chickens. When he turned to Marcus, he could not look him in the eyes. “I—uh—I’m not sure,” he said, staring past Marcus’s shoulder.
At first Marcus thought he understood. When Raine had been alive, she had steadfastly refused the girls riding lessons, citing a young cousin who had fallen and broken his neck in front of her eyes.
“What if I promise to walk alongside her? Keep an eye on her every step of the way?”
“It’s not that, Marcus. The ground’s slick with rain. What if the pony slips?”
“Ponies are hardy creatures. They’re used to all kinds of weather. Tell you what, I’ll even pay for the ride.”
Eventually Tom caved in. And as promised, Marcus stayed with Katie for the short trip, holding an umbrella over her head. Led by one of the farm staff, they took a very slow walk around the perimeter of the main building. When they came into view again, Tom stood by with Charlotte, the younger sister waving enthusiastically as the pony was led back to the starting point. Tom appeared happy to see Katie’s smile of delight.
“There we go. Back in one piece,” said Marcus, helping Katie down from the pony. From the look on Charlotte’s face, he felt certain she wanted to ask Tom if she could have a ride too. In order to sidetrack her, he immediately called out, “Anybody fancy a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of fruitcake from the farm café?”
“Me,” said Charlotte, holding her hand in the air while jumping up and down on the spot.
As they walked toward the small tea shop, the girls together in front holding hands, Marcus turned to Tom and grinned.
“The café treat was a cunning ruse. Because I thought Charlie might ask for her turn on the pony. And that might not have been such a good idea.”
Tom continued to move forward, unsmiling, staring ahead at his girls. “She wouldn’t have. Katie might like horses, but Charlie’s terrified of them.”
“Okay,” said Marcus with a shrug. “I didn’t know that.”
