Guilty Hearts Read online

“Between you and Zoe, soon I’ll be too scared to put a foot outside my front door.”

  “We just care about you,” Gloria said softly, putting her hand on Rachel’s shoulder.

  Rachel looked directly into Gloria’s eyes. “I know you do and I appreciate it, but you really have nothing to worry about. I’m very street smart.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Until you’re not. Don’t think you’re invincible, Rachel, because you’re not — none of us are.”

  “What’s gotten into you today? Have you been watching Dates from Hell again? You know that program makes you paranoid.”

  Gloria threw her hands up into the air. “Okay, take the piss out of me.”

  “Gloria, are you alright?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Gloria replied, as she pretended to inspect her inch-long, hot-red, acrylic nails.

  “What’s brought all this on?” Rachel grabbed her hand and held it gently.

  “You’re like a daughter to me, Rachel. I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

  “It won’t, I promise,” Rachel replied, releasing her hand.

  “Just be careful.”

  “Okay, now can the real Gloria step forward? You know, the one who is always screaming about deadlines and copy not being sassy enough, me being — ”

  “Gloria,” one of the sales woman called, “I think you should see this.”

  Gloria stood up, walked the short distance to the next desk and took the sheets of paper from her hand. As she scanned sheet after sheet, her eyes widened in amazement.

  “I can’t believe it, I honestly can’t believe it,” she finished, shaking the papers in her hand.

  “What’s the matter?” Rachel was by her side in seconds.

  “Look at this!” Gloria said, thrusting the papers into Rachel’s hands, “from practically begging people to advertise with us, they are throwing themselves at us.”

  “I take it from these figures, you’ve been spreading the word that Kathryn is going to be in next month’s copy,” Rachel said with a wide grin.

  “You’re damn right I have been,” Gloria said, thrusting her chest out. “The first thing I learnt in life was not to look a gift horse in the mouth.” She put the papers down and marched into her office. “Stella, Rachel,” she hollered, “follow me, please, we’re going to up the ante.”

  Once both women were in the office, Gloria’s voice took on a serious tone. “Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush, we are one step away from closing the magazine down. Even with this influx of new advertisers, it’s only a plaster on a gaping hole. We need to take full advantage of this and make sure these advertisers stick with us.”

  “How do we do that?” Rachel asked, caught up in her excitement.

  “We’re going to throw a party. We’ll invite all the advertisers as well as designers; everybody who’s anybody in the industry.”

  “And how are we going to wangle that, or have I missed something? Do you have a fairy Godmother you haven’t introduced me to?” Rachel asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. If most of the industry didn’t turn up to the launch party a year ago, why would they turn up now?

  “I don’t, but you do,” Gloria said with a large grin. “Her name is Kathryn Kassel.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Kathryn looked out of her office window as the crowded street loomed below, seemingly giving careful consideration to what Rachel was asking her.

  “Look, I know this is no concern of yours, we hardly know each other, but we are desperate, to the point the magazine may have to fold if we can’t make up revenue through advertising.”

  “I can’t see what harm it would do. When is this bash?”

  “Four weeks,” Rachel said, lowering her eyes. “I know it’s terribly short notice, but Gloria has just come up with the idea to make it coincide with the day your interview is out.”

  “Four weeks,” Kathryn said, more to herself than Rachel. “That doesn’t give you a lot of time to get the word out.” She moved behind her desk and flicked through her organiser. “Okay, I’ll come. As well as that, I’ll get Carol to draw up a list of my contacts and call in some favours — I’m sure they’d be more than happy to attend a party.”

  “Are you serious?” Rachel asked, struck by her kindness to help out her boss, someone she’d never even met.

  “Yes, I’m serious, I would have thought by now that you would’ve realised I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

  “I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” Rachel said, reaching out and clasping her hand for a brief moment. Rachel looked into her heavy-lidded eyes as she touched her, noticing for the first time the dark blue rim of her iris and golden halo surrounding her enlarged pupils.

  “As long as your article shows me in a good light, that will be enough,” Kathryn joked, breaking her gaze as she retreated to her chair.

  “Well, that’s easy.”

  “We’d better get on with the interview, otherwise you’ll have nothing to print.”

  “Yes, boss,” Rachel said, saluting her.

  Once settled into her seat, Rachel began, “So, I have enough information about your professional life, now down to the nitty gritty of your personal life. Is it alright to start off with talking a bit about your marriage to —” She looked at her note pad. “— Gareth?”

  Kathryn smiled and nodded.

  Noticing the smile didn’t reach her eyes, Rachel continued, “So you’ve been married for ten years, any tips on what makes for a happy marriage?”

  “Honesty,” Kathryn replied.

  Rachel told herself to concentrate on the job at hand and not to be thinking about whether Kathryn’s marriage was a happy one. She turned back to her task and wrote diligently as Kathryn spoke of the wonderful support she had received from her husband and friends, and the pain that she had gone through growing up without a mother figure, especially when it came to dating. “What a nightmare,” she laughed.

  “I take it your father wasn’t the type to sit you down and tell you about the birds and the bees?” Rachel asked.

  “No, no he wasn’t.” Kathryn let out a sigh. There was something in her eyes that Rachel couldn’t quite read. Was it sadness? Hatred? Resentment? She decided to probe a bit deeper.

  “So what type of relationship did you have with your father? Were you a daddy’s girl?”

  “You could say that, well up until my mother died. After that, I was more like a ... a burden,” Kathryn finally managed to say.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Kathryn smiled faintly.

  “But it must have been tough, not having the support you needed after losing your mother.”

  Kathryn was silent for several moments. “Yes, it was, but thankfully I had Jo, who was like a sister to me and her mum basically gave me the love my father couldn’t.”

  “Did your dad remarry?”

  Kathryn gave a bitter laugh. “He sure did, oh what was it now,” she said, pretending to try and remember. “It was six weeks after we buried my mother that he married our neighbour. Who also happened to be my mum’s best friend. I think it must have been going on for a while, even when my mum was alive.”

  “That must have been rough on you.”

  “It was, but he didn’t care what I or anybody else thought, as long as he was alright, that was all that mattered.”

  “Do you still see him?” Rachel wanted to stop asking her questions but couldn’t. It was her job to get answers, but she felt bad getting Kathryn to relive something she had obviously buried in the past.

  “No,” Kathryn said, shaking her head. “I last saw him about eleven years ago. He didn’t even come to my wedding.” She stifled a sob that had risen out of nowhere.

  What a bastard, his own daughter, what kind of man would do that? Rachel’s heart went out to Kathryn as she watched her go from the confident business woman to a lost little girl, all alone in an untrusting world. She so desperately wanted to hold
her, to banish the look of insecurity from her face and her heart.

  Kathryn gave a shrug of her shoulders. “Like I said, that was a long time ago.”

  Sensing that she had said enough on that subject, Rachel moved on to other generic topics about what the future held for her and what her personal aspirations were.

  “I think we’re done,” Rachel said an hour later, closing her note pad.

  “Great,” Kathryn said, sounding disappointed.

  “So, once I’ve written everything up and it’s been approved, I’ll let you see a copy before it goes to print.”

  “That’ll be great.”

  “How is the project is progressing?”

  “Rob’s there now with the builders, it’s going pretty well at the moment, fingers crossed.”

  “Brilliant.” Rachel felt the need to prolong the conversation. She didn’t want to just get up and leave Kathryn, having opened her up emotionally.

  There was a knock at the door, and Carol popped her head around the corner.

  “Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” Carol nodded hello to Rachel. “Kathryn, there are problems with those bloody tree houses. Rob said they sent him an image and outline of what they had started to make and it is different to what he asked for. He’s been on the phone to them all morning and has gotten nowhere.”

  “What does he propose?” Kathryn asked, her business hat back on.

  “That you both fly to Denmark and go to the factory to make sure they’re are making the ones you ordered.”

  “Do we have the time?”

  “From what Rob says, you’re going to have to make time, he’s doing his nut. He said the company should have taken his points into account. He doesn’t trust that they’ll rectify the problem, that’s why he wants you both to go there in person.”

  “Okay,” Kathryn said flicking through her diary, “tell him we’ll go on Tuesday. And get him to call them again and put a hold on everything until we get there.”

  “I’ll tell him and get everything booked, one night or two?”

  “One. See if you can book the earliest flight on both days.”

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks, Carol,” Kathryn said as her head disappeared behind the door. “Looks like I spoke too soon,” she said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “So where were we?”

  “I think we were just about done. Do you really have to go all that way for a tree house? I mean isn’t there a cheaper way of sorting it out?”

  “They are very, very expensive tree houses and are the centre pieces of the design. There are also structural implications to take into account. If they arrive and are wrong, then the project won’t be finished on time and Ellie will be furious.”

  Rachel stood to leave. “Ah, I see. I’ll let you get on then, as it seems you’ve got your hands full. I’ll stop by next week when you get back, if that’s okay?”

  Kathryn looked up. “Yes, that’ll be fine, although I am going to have to go to Ellie’s tomorrow now, to check a few things before we leave for Denmark. You’re welcome to come.”

  “Yep, tomorrow it is then!” Rachel said, leaving Kathryn flicking through a cat catalogue.

  ***

  With the office now to herself, Kathryn sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. Sadness overtook her. Never having talked to anyone in-depth about her past before, not even to Gareth, meant today had taken its toll. She felt as though a gaping wound had been reopened.

  She looked out of the window as rain drummed against the window pane. Whenever it rained, in spite of her resolve, inexorably her mind returned to the day her life had drastically changed forever.

  She could still remember the panic she felt that day, seeing her mother laying motionless on the kitchen floor. She brushed away the tears that were threatening to spill — she wasn’t the only one who had lost someone.

  She knew Rachel was suffering in her own way with her mother’s mind locked in a prison that she had no access to — maybe emotional suffering was a common bond they both shared. She felt helpless that there wasn’t anything she could do to ease her pain — or was there? A plan formed in her mind.

  Later that evening at home, she stared at the TV, trying her hardest to look engaged, but her mind was on Rachel — her emotions were all over the place. She felt like she was on a roller coaster ride. When she was with Rachel, she was at the peak of the highest ride in the world. When they were apart, everything went speedily downhill. Her phone bleeped signalling a message — flipping it open, her heart sank when she read the text message.

  Sorry I can’t make it tomorrow after all.

  I have an appt I can’t break.

  Mike will drop by to take photos if that’s ok?

  Can I come by Monday?

  R

  CHAPTER 14

  “I can’t believe I’m here when I should be with Kathryn,” Rachel said, standing outside a tall glass-fronted building, stretching high into the sky. She’d received a call from her father’s solicitor the previous day, asking to rearrange her appointment due to an emergency. If she hadn’t agreed, it would have been weeks before another opening came up.

  “There’ll be other days, it’s not the end of the world,” Zoe replied.

  “The point is, I really don’t want to be here. Even from the grave he’s affecting my life in a negative way.” She was still reeling from the news, made worse by the fact she couldn’t talk to her mother about it.

  “Give his memory a break, Rachel, he’s gone now. Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive him so he can rest in peace?”

  “If I could, I would have years ago. You don’t know what he put my mum through, all the suffering she endured because he couldn’t keep his pants up. Sorry, but if that makes me a class A bitch, so be it.”

  “I didn’t say you were a bitch, I just think at some stage you’ve got to let go of the anger.”

  “I’m not angry, Zoe, I just don’t want any memories in my life of him — dead or alive.”

  “Okay, point taken. Shall we go in?”

  “In a minute.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Yes, I dread to think what he’s left me. What if it’s a couple of kids?”

  Zoe let out a hearty laugh. “You walk straight back out denying he’s your real father. That it’s all been a dreadful mistake. If, on the other hand, it’s a large amount of money ....” Her expression spoke for itself.

  Rachel let out a deep sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “It’s not going to be as bad as you think,” Zoe said as they headed toward the glass door. A young man held it open for them before exiting himself, turning back to ogle Rachel’s tanned, bare legs beneath the black pencil skirt she wore.

  “We’re here to see Bette Willis,” Rachel said to the young receptionist behind a mahogany desk.

  “One moment please,” she replied, picking up the phone and announcing their arrival to the person on the other end. “Miss Willis will see you now.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Her office is on the second floor, the lifts are to the right.”

  Rachel smiled at her as they strode towards the lift, eventually finding themselves on the second floor.

  “Rachel Collins?” the solicitor said, opening the door to her plush office. Standing at just over five feet, she was an attractive middle-aged woman with short blonde hair, brown eyes and a pretty smile, which she beamed at them both. “Come in, come in. Sit down,” she said, gesturing to two leather swivel chairs in front of her glass panelled desk.

  “I hope it’s okay, I brought my friend Zoe along,” Rachel said.

  “Of course it is,” she said, shaking both their hands. “Nice to meet you.”

  Both women smiled back at her, before she skirted around her desk and sat down. Her attention on Rachel, she spoke in a soft tone. “Thank you for coming in. As I explained on the phone, it’s something I would rather do in person.”

  Rachel waited for her
to continue. Bette picked up a large envelope that lay in front of her and unsealed it, fishing inside for its contents.

  “Firstly, I would like to offer you my sincerest condolences, your father was a good man,” she said as she brought out a single sheet of A4 paper.

  To who? Not to my mum and definitely not to me.

  Bette continued, “Mr Lexington had one asset, which has been left to you.” She perched a pair of rimless glass on her pert nose. “A property in Battersea. There is no mortgage ....” she said, looking at Rachel for a response, to which she gave none.

  Rachel sat impassively whilst Bette read out legalities, which took another half an hour. Finally, she stopped talking and Rachel and Zoe stood up to leave.

  “Please don’t hesitate to get in touch if you need clarification on anything we’ve discussed here today.”

  Rachel and Zoe looked at each other and said nothing.

  Outside, away from the building the two women screamed, hugging and spinning around in a waltz.

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe it — a house ... and in Battersea of all places,” Zoe said, breathless. “Please pinch me so I know this isn’t a dream.”

  Rachel reached out and pinched her.

  “Ouch, I was talking metaphorically,” Zoe said, rubbing her arm.

  “Sorry,” Rachel said ruefully. “Anyway, let’s go and see it before we get too excited yet, it might be worse than the place we’re living in at the moment.” She couldn’t believe all these years he had been living somewhere so close — she could have, for all she knew, passed him on the street. That thought depressed her.

  “Rachel, you and I both know that would be impossible. A beach hut would be better than where we’re living.”

  Rachel laughed a little, still struggling to comprehend the situation.

  “I think I need to sit down,” Rachel said as they neared a wooden bench, and collapsed onto it. “I wonder why he did this?”

  Zoe chose her words carefully. “Maybe it was just his way of showing you that he still cared.”

  “He never cared about anyone but himself. I don’t think a person can change that much.”