Chance of a Lifetime, Page 3

  Maria hurried outside to wait in the sunshine. In minutes, the car was there.

  ‘Your limousine, Miss Maria,’ Gary said, bowing with a flourish as he opened the car door.

  ‘Thank you, 'James'. You're a treasure. I’ve seen nothing of you today. What job are you on?’

  ‘Turning hay in the far field. Tom’s there with me.’ He nodded towards the wild woods.

  Maria's face clouded. ‘Be careful, Gary, it's dangerous. That’s where my father had his accident’. The mere mention of that field sent shivers through her. There was a faraway look in her eyes as she cautioned him.

  ‘Now don't you worry, just get in this and drive carefully.’ Gary Marsh straightened his tall, lean body as she slipped into the car, and looked away as her skirt lifted, showing a long length of slender leg.

  ‘See you later,’ she said, and moved off down the drive.

  Chapter Four

  Ten minutes later Maria parked the car and made straight for The Gallery in the High Street where some of her work was on display. She wanted to know how her paintings were selling. Trelawn and its surrounding area was populated by well-off people who lived away from the turmoil of city life. There were also farming folk whose families had lived there for generations, and on market day crowds flooded in from different surrounding areas for fresh farm produce. It was a busy market town that was still delightfully old-fashioned.

  Weaving her way in and out of the jostling shoppers, and the tourists who visited local historic ruins, Maria eventually reached her destination, and went inside with as cheery a greeting as she could manage for the proprietor.

  ‘Good morning,’ Mr Tanner's voice boomed, as he shuffled from behind the counter to greet her. ‘What can I do for you today, Maria?’ A happy smile lit up his round, florid face.

  ‘I need some paint,’ she said, picking out what she needed from the stand.

  ‘Haven’t you finished your exhibition stuff yet, Maria?’

  ‘Yes, but one or two need a touch-up and I’m out of a few colours,’ she laughed. ‘I’ve reached my target, so there are no worries.’

  ‘I’m delighted my most successful artist is spreading her wings farther afield than Trelawn.’ Alwyn Tanner wagged a finger under her nose. ‘You’re doing rather well, even in a small place like this. You’ll be famous one day.’ He straightened up and took on a more serious look. ‘You'll be pleased to know I sold another of your paintings this morning. That's two this week, and maybe I’ll sell more by the weekend.’ He puffed as he struggled over to his desk, every movement obviously an effort. ‘Since you're here, you might as well have money due to you.’ He pulled out a cheque book, filled in a slip, and handed it over with a flourish. ‘That's the five hundred for the painting of My Chance.’ He gave her a benevolent smile. ‘You should think about increasing your prices, Maria. They’re getting more popular by the week.’

  ‘Let's see how well my exhibition goes, and after that maybe I will.’ She turned and took a fleeting glance through the gallery window just as a figure passed by; it reminded her of Phillip Carter.

  Mr Tanner noticed her frown. ‘Anything wrong?’ he asked, his chubby cheeks wobbling as he shook his head.

  ‘No, everything's all right thanks, Mr Tanner. I must go now, but can I leave this parcel with you until later?’

  ‘Certainly. I'll put it under the counter.’

  Maria walked out and blinked against the strong sunlight. Almost blinded by the brilliance, she collided heavily with someone, lost her balance and staggered sideways from the impact. Two strong arms grasped her and saved her from landing on the ground.

  ‘So sorry,’ she murmured. The sun was in my eyes; I didn’t see you.’

  ‘It wasn't your fault. I wasn't looking where I was going either. Are you all right?’

  Maria suddenly felt a prickly sensation at the back of her neck. She knew the voice. ‘I'm perfectly all right, thanks,’ she said, releasing herself from the tight grasp, and shading her eyes to look up at the face of the last person she wanted to see. Phillip Carter.

  In a voice tempered with indignation, she burst out, ‘I’m sorry about that, but I’m in a hurry.’ Without giving him a second glance or chance to reply, she dusted herself down quickly and rejoined the throng of busy shoppers, acutely aware that the man was staring after her.

  Seconds later Maria spotted the swinging sign of The Coach And Horses across the road. Darting in and out of traffic, she slipped inside to the coolness of the large lounge, and made for the far corner to claim the only table left vacant. Placing her bag on the seat beside her, she reached for a bar-snack menu. She was thirsty, hungry, and needed time to relax and regain her composure. Seeing that man had brought back all the misery of possibly losing her beloved Chance. She closed her eyes and eased back in the chair, but suddenly sensing someone close by, she looked up into the smiling face of an attentive waitress who had sidled up for her order.

  ‘Lasagne, with side salad, please,’ she said, returning a smile to the pleasant girl. ‘Oh, and a small shandy.’ The waitress nodded and hurried away, returning almost straight away with her drink. With the thoughts that filled her head, minutes seemed like seconds before the hot meal was placed in front of her. ‘It'll save time if I pay now,’ she said, handing the money to the girl. She looked down at her meal for a moment and toyed with it. It smelled good and at least her appetite was hearty.

  The general babble at the inn was comforting. People around seemed happy with their lot; she wished the same for herself and Gramps, but before she had taken a second mouthful, her reverie was disturbed by a figure looming tall alongside her.

  ‘I’m really sorry to disturb you, but there’s no room anywhere else, so may I sit here?’ a voice asked politely.

  Oh no, she groaned inwardly, looking up to corroborate her fears. Phillip Carter seemed to be shadowing her, and as he stood smiling happily beside her, he was obviously unaware he was not wanted.

  ‘Certainly,’ she said icily, removing her bag. She had no right to refuse anyone a seat in a public place, but how she wished she had a reasonable excuse to leave right now, even though she was hungry for the meal in front of her. The last thing she wanted was for Phillip Carter to know he had any effect on her for any reason. Why did he, of all people, have to turn up there?

  Maria vented her anger as she pierced the lasagne with her fork. She thought she had seen the last of that man, but here he was, sliding his long legs beneath the tiny table, and far too close for her liking.

  ‘So, we meet again.’ He laughed, obviously finding it amusing. ‘I had a few calls to make, but the last one delayed me, so I thought I'd get some lunch before going on.’

  ‘I see,’ she answered, in a frosty voice with a distinct tone of indifference. Maria felt uncomfortable with him watching her, but reminded herself that Carter had as much right at that table as she did, but making polite conversation with him was the last thing she wanted. She met his gaze briefly, and that same disturbing feeling flashed through her, speeding her pulse again. She wondered why he should have an effect of any kind on her. He meant nothing to her; he had done her no wrong, and his visit to the farm must have been arranged by Gramps, so she couldn’t place any blame on him.

  ‘You don’t recommend the lasagne?’ he asked, noticing how she played with it.

  ‘It's fine, but a bit hot right now,’ she explained, not wishing him to guess how awkward she felt with him staring at her across the table. As soon as he had gone to the crowded bar, Maria took another mouthful of Lasagne and chewed thoughtfully while she surveyed his strong, straight figure standing a whole head and shoulders above everyone else. Without a doubt, he had an outstanding presence that made him noticed. Maria watched him raise a finger and receive immediate attention, so within seconds, he was back, drink in hand. ‘I've ordered a salad roll. I watch my weight.’ He chuckled, patting his lean stomach.

  Maria was relieved to see the waitress arrive quickly with his bar snack, fo
r now his attention would be on something other than her face.

  He lifted his glass. ‘Cheers, and once again wishing you every success.’

  Maria was thankful for the silence between them as they ate, and managed to make an impression of total calm. Sneakily, she scrutinised his face while he concentrated on eating.

  Unaware of her silent examination, he looked up, smiling again, then his voice rose above the noisy chatter. ‘I didn't think we’d be meeting again so soon.’

  Maria suddenly became aware of others looking in their direction. A tinge of pink crept into her cheeks, and there was a moment of awkward silence.

  ‘Neither did I,’ she said briefly, regaining her composure.

  ‘You must think I'm following you,’ he teased, bending his head close as he spoke.

  Her colour deepened. He could have done, she thought.

  ‘Nice little town, this.’ Phillip Carter made the statement as though he was telling her something she didn't know. ‘It seems to have everything.’

  ‘It is, and it has,’ she answered curtly, anxious to finish her meal so she could leave.

  ‘I suppose you buy your painting materials at the little gallery I noticed next door to the bank?’

  ‘I do,’ she said, rising from the table, ‘but please excuse me, Mr Carter, I must go now.’

  ‘Phillip,’ he said, getting to his feet, ‘please let's not be so formal.’

  As she stood up, Maria’s foot knocked over the parcel he had placed at the side of the table, but she caught it as it fell, and propped it up again.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said simply. ‘No harm must come to that.’

  She managed the semblance of a smile. ‘It’s fine, it didn’t reach the floor.’ The crowd in the room had thinned by now, and as she was walking away from Phillip Carter, she had an uncomfortable feeling that his eyes were on her. Almost automatically, she looked back as she reached the doorway, immediately annoyed for having shown interest sufficient to cause him to wave. Without hesitation, she thoughtlessly waved back. ‘Damn and blast,’ she muttered, as she hurried outside.

  Despite the warm sun, a shudder ran through her. She moved on, quickening her pace to The Gallery to collect her parcel and get home. The Victorian doorbell clanged as she walked in to find Mr Tanner rearranging his display of paintings. He turned around and greeted her with a broad smile, his red face a shade deeper than normal, from effort. As Maria walked up to the glass counter, his brow furrowed. ‘You look tired, young lady.’

  ‘I’m not tired. I’m stressed,’ she admitted. ‘Got things on my mind.’

  ‘A successful young lady like you should be full of the joys of life,’ he said, looking genuinely concerned. ‘You shouldn't have any worries.’ Mr Tanner then changed the subject. ‘I need replacements for the last two I sold, so you'll have to get busy.’

  ‘I will, Mr Tanner, I promise. Was it local people who bought them?’ she asked, always interested to know where her work was going.

  ‘Yes, and no,’ came the reply, with a wink.

  Maria chuckled. ‘How come, Mr Tanner?’

  ‘Well, Mrs Foxwell bought the one of the grey pony, and a young man bought the one of My Chance. Don’t know him; I think he’s a stranger to the area.

  Maria looked amused. ‘But there are lots of strangers here at this time of year.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but he didn't look like a holiday maker.’

  ‘What did he look like?’ Maria was interested now.

  ‘Tall, good-looking, well spoken, polite, thirty-ish, and wore expensive, but well-used clothes.’ He scratched his head as he tried to remember more. ‘He seemed business like, if you know what I mean; sort of in a hurry – ‘the never got a minute to spare’ type.’

  Maria nodded her head, accepting the vague description. It could be anyone.

  Mr Tanner drawled on. ‘He was interested only in your painting. He just walked in and asked for the horse portrait in the window, and that was it! He didn’t hesitate, paid for it, and wanted to see nothing else. It was the quickest sale I’ve ever made.’

  ‘The painting of My Chance? You’d placed it dead-centre,’ Maria said. ‘No one passing could miss it.’

  ‘What's a shop window for?’ he said. ‘It was so beautiful, it had to have pride of place.’ Mr Tanner’s eyes twinkled as he went on. ‘I could see he was impressed. He couldn't get over the vitality and incredible detail of the painting; kept touching it, stroking it as though it were real.’

  ‘And you can’t say who he was?’

  Mr Tanner shook his head. ‘Never been in here before, but wait a minute.’ He opened the till and flicked through a small bundle of notes. ‘Ah!’ He pounced on a piece of paper. ‘Here it is.’

  Maria didn't have to wait long to know that he had found the duplicate of a receipt.

  ‘Someone by the name of P.A. Carter. That's it, a receipt for five hundred and fifty pounds; the fifty covering my commission and payment for the frame, so you get a clear five hundred,’ he added hastily. He stared at Maria. ‘Are you all right? You've gone deathly white.’ He moved quickly around the counter and placed a chair behind her. ‘Sit down for a minute. Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘No thanks, I'm all right, really,’ she faltered, ‘I’m a bit overdone, that's all.’ She put a hand to her forehead, and took a deep breath to curb the anger coursing through her. ‘I'll go now, Mr Tanner. The sooner I’m home, the better.’

  ‘Don't forget your parcel,’ he said, handing it to her as he walked her to the door. ‘By the way, this customer was so taken by your painting he told me he'd love to own the model. I advised him it was cheaper to have a painting than the real thing.’ Mr Tanner laughed at his joke as he waved her off, but his words were ringing in her ears all the way to the car.

  ‘And the wretch didn't even have the decency to tell me he'd bought a painting of mine,’ she muttered, as she flung her parcel into the car. ‘With my signature scrawled all over it, he knew it was mine. And he knew it was My Chance, so what's he up to?’

  Maria got into the vehicle and slammed the door, revving up as though she were in a rally. ‘Like to own the model, would he?’ She clenched her jaw. ‘Oh no, Phillip Carter. My Chance belongs to me and that’s how it’s staying.’

  Chapter Five

  It was late afternoon when Maria pulled into the farm drive feeling as though the afternoon had been hard work. ‘Still busy?’ she called to Gary through the open window of the car.

  ‘Yeah. Finished the hay, so fixing this fence now so stock won’t run loose on the road.’

  She pulled to a stop and waited as he vaulted the gate and ran to the car. He leaned on the wound-down window and pushed back his cap with grubby fingers, the usual mischievous smile spreading across his face. ‘Enjoy your outing?’

  Maria rubbed her forehead, and sighed. ‘Sort of, but I've got a headache, and on top of that I’m really miserable.’

  Gary gave her a sideways look. ‘You, miserable? Naw, it's all that drink with your lunch I expect,’ he chuckled, ‘and an anti-climax after going out on the town when we’re left slogging away here.’

  ‘You're joking,’ Maria said, with feigned indignation as she peered into the grinning face. ‘It's not booze, but I've got problems that could give anyone a headache.’ As soon as she spoke, her expression changed, as though the situation had suddenly worsened. She covered her face with her hands to hide the tears.

  ‘Hey, what's up?’ Gary was full of concern. He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘This isn’t like you; something's gotta be wrong. Can I help?’

  ‘I've had a terrible day,’ she exploded. ‘I don't know what I'm going to do, but I must think of something, Gary.’ With a look of despair, she heaved a deep breath. ‘Normally I'd be over the moon with Mr Tanner just having paid me for the paintings, but it hasn't made a scrap of difference.’ She shook her head, firming her mouth to control trembling lips.

  ‘Okay. Calm down and tell me about it. You know what they sa
y about a trouble shared.’

  Maria looked up at him, her misery quite plain in her eyes. ‘All right,’ she sighed. ‘It’ll be good to get it off my chest, so be a pal and garage this car while I make us a coffee. Then we'll talk.’ Gary nodded and moved into the driver's seat. Maria glanced anxiously around the farmyard. ‘Gramps around?’

  ‘He's over there checking the hay's dry enough in the far field for baling. Don't worry,’ he called, as he started the engine, ‘he’s got other jobs as well so he won't be back for ages.’

  Maria went inside and flung her shopping onto the cottage sofa in the kitchen. Moments later the coffee was brewing and while she waited, she looked at herself in the mirror and did not like the woeful face staring back at her.

  ‘That didn't take long, did it?’ Gary said, as he breezed into the kitchen. ‘The car’s away and I’ve locked up the garage.’

  Maria smiled wistfully and nodded at the mug of coffee she had placed on the table for him. Her expression was serious as she grasped her own and looked blankly at Gary.

  ‘Okay, everything else can wait. It's more important for me to know what's on your mind.’ Gary looked expectantly at Maria as he lifted the mug to his lips.

  ‘Money,’ she said simply, looking at him, her eyes wide and frightened. ‘Or rather, the lack of it. And I discovered that the man who was here this morning actually wants to buy My Chance; my precious horse. Can you believe it?’ She gulped before going on. ‘It means big money as far as Gramps is concerned; money that's badly needed to keep us going, but,’ she stopped talking and looked at Gary through fresh tears.

  ‘I can see why you’re so distressed. It seems you’re at this man's mercy.’ He got up and paced the room impatiently, as though ideas of how to solve the problem were not coming fast enough. Pausing, he raised a finger. ‘Don't give up, Maria, not yet. We'll find a way somehow. Come on now, no more tears, let's get thinking instead. We must be positive.’

  ‘What you've just said sizes up the situation, Gary. My head’s buzzing and I'm just not able to come up with any sort of solution; I can’t think straight anymore.’