‘And washed my hair,’ Ella put in helpfully, ‘without getting shampoo in my eyes.’
Janey was threatening to smile. Guy, glancing around the kitchen and counting on his fingers, continued the list.
‘And she’s made a chicken casserole. And she’s ironed my denim shirt. And she’s managed to tear Josh away from his Gameboy without even having to handcuff him to the kitchen chair ..
Josh, ever-hopeful, said, ‘And she’s promised I can stay up to watch Bride of Dracula.’
No I haven’t!’ Janey started to laugh.
‘That settles it,’ declared Guy. ‘I can’t possibly watch Bride of Dracula on my own. It’ll remind me of Maxine and give me hideous nightmares. You’re going to have to stay.’
Ella, reaching across him, picked up one of the gingerbread men. To her dismay the all-important currant rolled on to the floor.
‘Oh, sodit,’ she squealed indignantly. ‘What a little bugger. His bloody tummy button’s come off.’
Chapter 33
Discretion was all part and parcel of a florist’s job, Janey had discovered. When a man who had been married for twenty years began placing a regular order for white freesias to be delivered to an address several miles away from his own home, you kept your mouth shut and delivered them. When your very own middle-aged bank manager suddenly spruced himself up, discovered aftershave and took to popping in for single long-stemmed red roses, you kept a straight face at all costs. And on Valentine’s day, when any number of men might request two --
or even three – identical cellophane-wrapped bouquets of mixed spring flowers, you didn’t bat so much as an eyelid.
Which was how she was managing not to bat an eyelid now. But there could be no doubt about it; the man standing before her was definitely the same man she had seen with her mother all those weeks ago. And the gold American Express card she was holding definitely bore the name ‘Oliver J. Cassidy’.
Which was why, of course, he had looked so familiar to her when she’d spotted him at the Grand Rock Hotel. ‘I’d like to write the message on the card myself, if I may,’ said Oliver Cassidy with a brief smile.
Janey, who had only popped into the shop for a couple of hours whilst Josh and Ella were at school, watched him uncap a black and gold Mont Blanc fountain pen. She felt like a voyeur.
‘There.’ The task completed, he passed the card back to her and smiled once more. The brief message: You have all my love. Counting the days, was written in a courtly, elegant hand.
Will they be sent this afternoon?’
‘Don’t worry, they’ll reach her before two o’clock,’ Janey assured smoothly. ‘I shall be delivering them myself.’
‘Darling, what a lovely surprise!’ Thea, opening the front door, kissed Janey on both cheeks. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the enormous cellophane-wrapped bouquet. ‘And what heavenly lilies ... how kind of you to think of your poor old mother.’
‘They aren’t from me,’ said Janey dryly. ‘They’re from an admirer. I’m just the delivery girl.’
Thea, evidently in a buoyant mood, said, ‘Oh well, in that case I won’t invite you in for a drink.’
‘Yes you will.’ Handing over the bouquet, Janey headed in the direction of the kitchen and switched on the kettle. By the time she’d spooned instant coffee into two mugs, Thea had opened the envelope, read the message written on the card and slipped it into the pocket of her blue-and-white striped shirt. It was an extremely well-made man’s shirt, Janey noted. No prizes for guessing the identity of the original owner.
She waited until the coffee was made before saying anything. ’So who is he, Mum?’
‘Good heavens,’ countered Thea, a shade too brightly. ‘You’re the one who sold him the flowers, sweetheart. Surely you know who he is. Or did he run off without paying and you’re desperate to track him down?’
‘I know who he is. I wanted to know if you did.’ Thea laughed. ‘Well of course I do, darling! His name is Oliver and he’s madly in love with me.’
‘I meant do you know exactly who he is?’ Janey paused and sipped her coffee. ‘But it’s pretty obvious now that you do. For goodness sake, Mum, whatever do you think you’re doing?
What’s going on?’
‘I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss,’ said Thea crossly. ‘There’s absolutely nothing to get dramatic about. OK, so his name is Oliver Cassidy and he just happens to be the father of the photographer Maxine’s working for. Is that so terrible? Am I committing some hideous crime?’
‘You tell me.’ Janey, inwardly amazed at her ability to remain calm, sat back and crossed her legs. ‘Were you the one who came up with the idea of abducting his grandchildren?’
‘Of course I wasn’t. And there’s no need to make it sound like some kind of kidnapping,’
Thea countered. ‘He wanted to see them; he knew Guy would kick up all kinds of a fuss if he asked his permission, so he waited until he was away. Those children had a splendid afternoon, Oliver did what he came to Cornwall to do and nobody came to any harm.’
‘So you do know all about it,’ said Janey accusingly.
‘Maxine nearly lost her job as a result of that little escapade. And did dear Oliver tell you how he came to be estranged from his son? Did he explain exactly why Guy would have kicked up such a fuss?’
‘It was all a misunderstanding.’ Thea dismissed it with an airy gesture. ‘Oliver realizes now that he made a mistake, but it’s only gone on as long as it has because Guy overreacted. All families have disagreements, unfortunately. Oliver was unlucky enough to have his turned into some ridiculous, long-running feud. Darling, he was heartbroken about it! Seeing those dear little children, even if it was only for a few hours, did him all the good in the world.’
‘It wouldn’t have, if Guy had found out about it. He would have called the police.’
If there was one thing Thea couldn’t bear, it was being criticized by her own children. ‘And you’re on his side of course,’ she countered irritably. ‘Despite knowing nothing about what really happened. Just because he no doubt
