A Kind Of Madness. PENNY JORDAN
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all except to give her the odd very chaste and brief kiss, somewhat lacking in passion, she comforted herself with the knowledge that she would have found a man who was far more openly and demandingly sexual very off-putting indeed.
No, Peter was right for her, and once they were married of course things would be different. As it was, their careers took up so much of their time that it was hardly surprising that Peter wasn’t keen to rush on their marriage. After all, as he had pointed out to her recently, the terrible events of the autumn of ‘87, when the markets had fallen so drastically and so many of their peers had lost their jobs, had had a disastrous effect on the property market, which had still not recovered, and it would be foolish for them to make marriage plans and to sell their flats until it had done so.
She had agreed wholeheartedly with him, but it had niggled her none the less the last time her mother had rung up to have had to explain that no, she and Peter had not made any wedding arrangements as yet.
It was the purpose of that phone call which was the subject of their lunchtime discussion today.
Her mother had been thrilled about the planned holiday, but she had been concerned about leaving her menagerie. ‘Fortunately, Carter has offered to take over and look after things for us…You remember Carter, don’t you, Elspeth?’
She did, but wished she did not. Carter MacDonald was her aunt’s stepson, but he had already been an adult when her aunt had married his father, and his visits to the farmhouse had consequently been very rare. What she did remember about him was that she had found him rather overpowering. Almost eight years her senior, she had first met him the summer her aunt had married his father. He had just finished university at the time and had been waiting to hear if his application to work in scientific crop research for Third World countries had been successful. Her feelings towards him had been so ambiguous that when her mother had mentioned his name alarm bells had started to ring wildly in her cautious brain, especially when she couldn’t seem to explain what Carter was doing in Cheshire when he was supposed to be working in America.
Gently she had tried to caution her mother against leaving a man who was after all almost a stranger to them in charge of the smallholding because, for all her own objections and fears, she had had to admit that her parents were making an outstanding success of their venture, with the vegetables they produced being in constant demand from prestigious local restaurants and hotels. Indeed, so successful was it becoming that they were being pressed to expand, to erect more greenhouse tunnels and to buy more land. Their accounts, when they had proudly shown them to her, had stunned her. She had had no idea it was possible to make so much money from producing organically grown food.
When she had said as much to Peter he had lectured her reprovingly, pointing out that with the move to a far more ‘green’ environment it was obvious that her parents’produce would sell well.
And now they were jeopardising the whole thing by lightheartedly taking off for two months and leaving their precious business in the hands of a man about whom they knew virtually nothing at all.
Not so, her mother had objected when she had pointed these facts out to her. In the past few months they had got to know Carter very well indeed. It was true that initially he had merely been looking them up out of good manners, having returned to England after a spell working in America. But it seemed that now for some reason he was seriously considering settling in Cheshire and that, moreover, he had plans to enter a similar line of business to her parents’, so that he had both the experience and the inclination to take over the running of the business while they were away.
Elspeth had found all this highly suspicious. Her memories of Carter were of a tall, thin male with a shock of overlong dark hair who had seemed very adult to her teenage self, someone who had made her very aware of her own immaturity. Her mother was even talking enthusiastically about him buying a small farm due to come up for sale next to their own land, so that the two ventures could be run as one, but her parents were so innocent…so naïve. They couldn’t see what Peter had been quick to point out to her—something she had not realised at first herself—that it might well be that Carter did intend to start up a business, a business which would be in direct competition to their own—and what better way to get a head start than by destroying their business while they were away and he was in charge?
Of course, she had known immediately it would be useless to point this out to her mother. For one thing, she knew that her mother would only laugh and dismiss Peter’s suspicions as unthinkable.
She had talked the whole thing over with him and he had pointed out further aspects of the situation which had not occurred to her: namely, that not only might Carter not take adequate care of her parents’ venture, but that he might actually deliberately try to undermine everything they had built up. ‘After all, if he is serious about setting up in competition to them…’ he had gone on.
Shocked, Elspeth had initially demurred, but Peter had insisted he was right. She had immediately wanted to warn her parents, but had known that they would not take her warning seriously. They seemed to have taken Carter to their hearts, almost as though he were a long-lost son, not someone who was barely related to them at all if one discounted her aunt’s marriage to his father.
A sensation which she had refused to admit as jealousy had struggled for life inside her—a sensation which she had immediately squashed. But then had come her boss’s announcement that she must take some leave, and she had immediately suggested to Peter that it might be as well for her to kill two birds with one stone by taking her leave and by spending it in Cheshire, where she could keep a firm eye on any Machiavellian attempts by Carter to undermine her parents’ business.
Peter had immediately agreed with her decision. She had rung her parents that evening, announcing that she had some leave due and that she was free to stand in for them while she was on holiday.
At first her mother had seemed surprisingly unenthusiastic, almost as though she didn’t want her at home, and her ire and suspicions had grown when she had later learned that it was Carter who had told her parents that that kind of sacrifice on her part was unnecessary, and that he was sure she would much prefer to spend her leave with Peter.
Not so, she had returned firmly. And in the end her mother had thanked her and accepted her decision, although even then she had not seemed very confident of Elspeth’s ability to take charge. Which was foolish, surely. After all, her parents had a small staff who did the day-to-day routine work. Elspeth was used to dealing with underlings, having a small department under her at the bank, and surely a well-educated, mature woman of twenty-seven would have no trouble at all in running one very small small-holding for a period of one month.
And so she had planned everything. She would drive down to Cheshire three days ahead of her parents’ departure so that she could familiarise herself with their routine, and make sure that Carter knew that any interference on his part would not be welcome.
It was a pity that he was living in the area while he looked around for a suitable property of his own, but if he turned up at her parents’ smallholding she would make it more than plain to him that, in their absence, he was not a welcome guest.
As she listened to Peter telling her about his latest case, she smothered the uncomfortable feeling that if her parents had made Carter welcome in their home as a member of the family, they would be highly embarrassed if she refused to do the same. She reflected crossly that it was high time she overcame these rebellious and unwanted weaknesses which more properly she ought to have left behind her when she’d left home.
Her parents were a warm-hearted couple, whose naïveté about the realities of life and the human race were all very well in the context of a small rural village where they had been known all their lives, but the world had changed dramatically since her parents were young, and it frightened her sometimes how little they seemed to realise that fact.
Take the time she had got off the London train in Chester, only to discover that her mother had befriended a solitary and extremely hairy young man who had got off an earlier train, and even worse that she had practically invited him home for the weekend. One only had to pick up a paper to realise the danger of befriending strangers.