His voice lowered in a teasing, conspiratorial way, ‘Were you a spy, back in the day? Are you revealing some sort of government secrets in this tell-all of yours?’
‘That’s it,’ she gasped in mock horror. ‘You’ve guessed. Now let’s talk about you. Are you planning to stay tonight?’
‘If I’m allowed to.’
‘Good, a room’s been made up for you, but you’ll have to eat in town. I was planning to come with you, but I have a few things to do here so perhaps you’ll be kind enough to take the ghostwriter with you. Before you answer, I want your word that you won’t fall for her, or try to make her fall for you.’
Sounding amused, Edward said, ‘Do you always call her the ghostwriter? Isn’t her name Jodie Something-or-Other.’
‘Joely Foster. She’s very attractive, smart and she’s on the rebound, so she really doesn’t need to be discombobulated by a playboy like you.’
As he gave a shout of laughter Joely’s eyebrows arched. This was a different tune to the one Freda had played earlier when she’d announced that her nephew was single and not gay. She’d sounded then as if she wanted to push them together, but apparently not.
And playboy?
Deciding she ought to go down before the mood changed against her, she resisted the urge to check herself in a mirror – easy since she didn’t have one – and then promptly made an idiot of herself as she slipped three steps from the bottom and thumped into the kitchen door.
Luckily there wasn’t enough room for her to go all the way down to her knees, and by the time Freda came to investigate the thump she was fully upright and ready to say,
‘Sorry, just a little advance warning of my arrival.’
Freda regarded her curiously and stood aside for her to enter. ‘Joely, my nephew, Edward,’ she said, smoothly. ‘Edward this is Joely.’
Since she’d already seen a photograph of him Joely wasn’t as affected by his good looks as she might have been, although she did find herself warming to the easy charm he seemed to emanate as he rose to greet her. Definitely not my type, she was thinking as she said, ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’
‘And to meet you,’ he responded, closing his long fingers around hers in a grip that wasn’t exactly too tight, but very definitely firm. ‘I’ve been told that you’re doing great work with the memoir.’
‘I’m simply typing it up,’ Joely assured him, glad to have her hand back for he seemed to have held it slightly too long.
‘I’ve warned him not to quiz you about it,’ Freda informed her, going to take the kettle from the heat. ‘He knows about the NDA. Would you like some tea?’
‘Actually,’ Joely said, ‘I was thinking about walking into town so I can make some calls.’
‘But there’s the phone,’ Freda objected, pointing her to the museum piece with working extension.
‘I could do with the exercise,’ Joely smiled, ‘and it’s such a lovely day.’
‘Maybe I could walk with you,’ Edward suggested. ‘It’s been a while since—’
‘We have a lot of paperwork to get through,’ Freda reminded him. To Joely she said, ‘Do you have anything for me to read?’
‘It’s on the printer,’ Joely replied. ‘I’ll go and get it—’
‘No need, I can pick it up myself. If you’re walking into town now, perhaps you can meet Edward there later, for dinner. I recommend the Bistro as a change from the Rising Sun. Edward, you can drive over so you’ll have the car to come back in.’
Clearly amused by being bossed around, Edward said, ‘I wonder how I manage without you when I’m in London.’
‘Mm, yes, I wonder that too,’ Freda muttered. ‘Why don’t you meet at seven? Edward. you should ring up to reserve a table.’
Laughing at his ironic smile Joely started for the door, and as she closed it behind her she heard Freda say, ‘I told you she was attractive.’
‘But that’s not why you chose her.’
‘No, you’re right, that’s not why I chose her.’
*
In spite of the brilliant sunshine the air was bitingly cold as Joely climbed out of the Valley of Rocks to start along the coast path towards Lynton. As far as she was concerned it wasn’t much more than a ledge in the cliff face with mighty tors rising up on one side, and a slope so steep and unnervingly mesmerizing on the other that she couldn’t allow herself to look down. One slip, or one ferocious gust of wind and there was