leaving her there feeling like the rudest woman on earth. Her people skills clearly needed some work.
Not that she didn’t already know that. Abi had made it abundantly clear that she was becoming increasingly difficult to work with. The heavy sinking feeling she’d been dodging for the past couple of days landed squarely on her shoulders. She shook it off. It would all be fine once she got back to London. She’d make sure it was.
She started walking back the way she’d come. The trouble with this place was it looked the same for miles around. There was a tree she thought she recognised in the distance so she made her way towards it, pulling off the heads of some lavender as she went and pinching them between her fingers to release the scent. Lavender was supposed to be good for helping you relax wasn’t it? She was going to need a tonne of it at this rate.
* * *
After an hour of stomping through the fields she began to regret not taking better notice of which way she’d come. She still hadn’t found the farmhouse and she was baking in the fierce heat of the sun.
There was very little shade—just the odd small olive tree dotted here and there. Her mouth felt uncomfortably dry, and the more she thought about it the thirstier she got.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced such intense heat. Her last holiday had been a skiing trip three years ago, which she’d had to cut short because of a crisis at work. Her job had taken her abroad a couple of times, but she’d always been ferried from air-conditioned plane to air-conditioned office. There had never been time for any sightseeing, so she’d just been left with the impression of heat and humidity as an abstract concept.
In short, she was well out of her depth.
* * *
Connor knew there was something wrong as soon as he pulled up to the front of the farmhouse. The heavy oak door was ajar and when he cautiously pushed it open he was greeted by the sure signs of a robbery. All the drawers of the hall sideboard were lying tipped upside down on the floor, surrounded by their contents. It was the same story in the kitchen. The digital radio and a couple of his grandmother’s old ornaments were missing from the snug, but they hadn’t bothered with the ancient TV.
He stood listening for a few seconds, his heart racing from a mixture of anger and fear in case they were still in the house, but it was silent. Luckily there wasn’t anything much of value they could have taken, but he was furious about the violation of his property and the mess they’d made.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he checked each of the bedrooms. They’d had a go at opening a couple of his boxes of books and climbing equipment, but had obviously abandoned them as not worth the time. In Josie’s room the drawers spewed her underwear and linen. The only thing he couldn’t see was her laptop. Maybe she’d taken it to be repaired? No, she couldn’t have done. Her car was still in the driveway.
Where was she?
A thread of fear twisted through him. Surely she’d been out when they’d broken in. Maybe she’d gone to the farm as he’d suggested? He really hoped so.
After making a sweep of the garden and the garage, and thankfully not finding her trussed up with her head bashed in, he went to phone Guy at the farm to see if she’d turned up there. Blood thumped through his veins as he waited for him to pick up.
‘Allo?’
‘Guy, it’s Connor Preston.’
‘Bonjour ,Connor. Ça va?’
‘I’m great, thanks, Guy. Listen, did a woman come and buy some eggs from you?’
There was a pause. ‘ Oui. She left about an hour ago. I offered her a drink, because she didn’t have one with her, but she wasn’t interested in being friendly.’
Connor let out a long, low breath, finally allowing himself to relax. That sounded exactly like Josie. Guy was clearly unimpressed by her naivety. ‘An hour ago, did you say?’
‘Oui.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Guy.’
‘No
Not that she didn’t already know that. Abi had made it abundantly clear that she was becoming increasingly difficult to work with. The heavy sinking feeling she’d been dodging for the past couple of days landed squarely on her shoulders. She shook it off. It would all be fine once she got back to London. She’d make sure it was.
She started walking back the way she’d come. The trouble with this place was it looked the same for miles around. There was a tree she thought she recognised in the distance so she made her way towards it, pulling off the heads of some lavender as she went and pinching them between her fingers to release the scent. Lavender was supposed to be good for helping you relax wasn’t it? She was going to need a tonne of it at this rate.
* * *
After an hour of stomping through the fields she began to regret not taking better notice of which way she’d come. She still hadn’t found the farmhouse and she was baking in the fierce heat of the sun.
There was very little shade—just the odd small olive tree dotted here and there. Her mouth felt uncomfortably dry, and the more she thought about it the thirstier she got.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced such intense heat. Her last holiday had been a skiing trip three years ago, which she’d had to cut short because of a crisis at work. Her job had taken her abroad a couple of times, but she’d always been ferried from air-conditioned plane to air-conditioned office. There had never been time for any sightseeing, so she’d just been left with the impression of heat and humidity as an abstract concept.
In short, she was well out of her depth.
* * *
Connor knew there was something wrong as soon as he pulled up to the front of the farmhouse. The heavy oak door was ajar and when he cautiously pushed it open he was greeted by the sure signs of a robbery. All the drawers of the hall sideboard were lying tipped upside down on the floor, surrounded by their contents. It was the same story in the kitchen. The digital radio and a couple of his grandmother’s old ornaments were missing from the snug, but they hadn’t bothered with the ancient TV.
He stood listening for a few seconds, his heart racing from a mixture of anger and fear in case they were still in the house, but it was silent. Luckily there wasn’t anything much of value they could have taken, but he was furious about the violation of his property and the mess they’d made.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he checked each of the bedrooms. They’d had a go at opening a couple of his boxes of books and climbing equipment, but had obviously abandoned them as not worth the time. In Josie’s room the drawers spewed her underwear and linen. The only thing he couldn’t see was her laptop. Maybe she’d taken it to be repaired? No, she couldn’t have done. Her car was still in the driveway.
Where was she?
A thread of fear twisted through him. Surely she’d been out when they’d broken in. Maybe she’d gone to the farm as he’d suggested? He really hoped so.
After making a sweep of the garden and the garage, and thankfully not finding her trussed up with her head bashed in, he went to phone Guy at the farm to see if she’d turned up there. Blood thumped through his veins as he waited for him to pick up.
‘Allo?’
‘Guy, it’s Connor Preston.’
‘Bonjour ,Connor. Ça va?’
‘I’m great, thanks, Guy. Listen, did a woman come and buy some eggs from you?’
There was a pause. ‘ Oui. She left about an hour ago. I offered her a drink, because she didn’t have one with her, but she wasn’t interested in being friendly.’
Connor let out a long, low breath, finally allowing himself to relax. That sounded exactly like Josie. Guy was clearly unimpressed by her naivety. ‘An hour ago, did you say?’
‘Oui.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Guy.’
‘No
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