Chapter One

"You, Cockwomble," Charles James muttered to himself in frustration as he turned the key in the ignition of his car and heard the engine roar into life. Hiding his feelings, he turned his head to smile and wave at Molly. She was standing on the pavement outside her flat. He saw her raise her hand in acknowledgement and force a smile but he could tell that she was troubled.

The whole day had been one trouble after another from the moment they turned up late for the lunch party organised by Molly's boss, Kevin Jones, to the disagreement over Charles' plans for next weekend. Molly had blamed Charles for their late arrival at the lunch. It was being held at an Italian restaurant run by Kevin's old school friend, Marco, to celebrate his forty-seventh birthday. Charles considered the blame to be somewhat unfair as Molly had been equally involved in the activity that had delayed them getting out of bed that morning and he hadn't heard her complaining at the time, quite the contrary. Giving her the advice to set her alarm earlier in the morning hadn't been well received as she continued to blame him for initiating everything knowing they had to get up and go out. "Well, you should be less attractive or more assertive then," he had countered meaning it as a joke but the remark had been met with a stony silence which only ended when, searching in a frantic manner through a disorganised pile of belongings under her bed, she had yelled with frustration, "Where the bleedin' hell is my handbag?"

Molly didn't like rushing around or being late. It was something Charles had come to learn about her during the last three months and it had surprised him. As a former military man he would have assumed that the need to be organised and prepared would sit more easily with his nature but he was beginning to see that Molly needed to be in control of what was happening around her or she became flustered and uncertain. She hadn't liked turning up half an hour late at lunchtime to find the first course had already been served and there was no chance of being introduced to the other guests before they sat down to eat. She had seemed withdrawn and Charles knew she was feeling at a disadvantage. She had rallied a little later but still seemed a bit out of sorts on the taxi journey back to her flat.

When Charles had later proposed the idea of Molly travelling down to Bath next weekend to stay with him and Sam she had seemed concerned. He hadn't wanted to overwhelm her and had invited her whilst his parents were away, having asked their permission first. His mother was curious to meet Molly but had been understanding and his father was simply prepared to go along with whatever his mother thought best. It was typical of his father to defer to his wife's judgment on these matters in the same way he had done so for the past thirty five years. It was Molly's reaction that had surprised Charles. She had almost seemed reluctant and he couldn't decide if it was the prospect of staying in Bath or becoming more involved in his life by meeting his son.

Until now Charles had kept his life in two separate compartments. When he was with Molly he had concentrated on their relationship alone, letting them spend as much time as they could manage together as a couple and allowing nothing else to impinge on that time. However, this latest suggestion seemed to have changed something in her mind and he thought she seemed worried.

They hadn't had an argument as such but he sensed her unease. The answers she gave to his questions were short and non-committal rather than snapped or bad tempered and she only seemed to be devoting half her powers of concentration on this or any other topic of conversation for the remainder of the afternoon. He began to wish he hadn't mentioned next weekend at all. The only reason he had decided that he wanted her to meet Sam was because everything was going so well between them. Even when they had finally managed to get all the misunderstandings cleared up and shared that first blissful afternoon and evening together at the hotel, he had known that they were only at the beginning of something and that it wasn't going to be the easiest journey. However, things had gone so well that he'd put aside any misgivings at a fairly early stage and started to look forward to the future. Sam was part of that future and he wanted to share it with Molly.

Charles pulled away from the kerbside and drove down the narrow road, lined with parked cars either side. He glanced once more in the mirror. Molly was watching him still, but she wasn't waving any more. Whatever was troubling her, she didn't seem ready to share it with him yet. He would just have to be patient and wait out.

X-X-X-X

It was Sunday afternoon, late September, and still warm in the sunshine. Molly watched Charles driving away, starting his return journey to Nant Glyn House and silently cursed herself for sending him off on a negative note.

She hadn't been expecting him to suggest that she come down to Bath next weekend. Until now they had been seeing each other on alternate weekends and occasionally in the week if Charles was free for a few days. Business had been quiet at Nant Glyn House during August and he had come down to London several times.

Molly didn't know whether she was free next weekend. Kevin had said he might require her assistance and had asked her to make herself available, promising to explain everything tomorrow. She had told Charles that she might be working but when he had asked what she would be doing her answers had been short and vague and she realised that they hadn't sounded very convincing. However, without knowing what Kevin had planned, it was difficult for her to make any promises to Charles. Although he had changed the subject and appeared unperturbed she guessed that he was disappointed by her response.

She was pleased that Charles had asked her to meet Sam. He was a major part of his life and she didn't want to get it wrong. The prospect of the meeting had made her feel nervous. She realised that she was being stupid given that Sam was seven years old and she had brothers and sisters of his age. She knew what children were like. Perhaps that was the problem. Young children had a way of sizing you up and saying with complete honesty what they thought of you without any hint of embarrassment whilst their unfortunate parents stood nearby, toes curling, wanting the floor to open up and swallow them whole. Children always noticed the thing you wanted to hide most: your big nose; the hole in your shoe that you hadn't got mended; the strange shade of auburn the dye had turned your hair; your lisp or slight stammer or worse still, something you hadn't even realised about yourself. A little part of her was afraid that Charles' immensely talented son would somehow perceive the one thing about her that his father had never noticed and cause him to irrevocably change his opinion.

She shook her head; that wouldn't happen. Meeting Charles again, even though she hadn't known or appreciated it at the time, had been a fortuitous twist of fate. After three nightmarish months of unhappiness, dating from the moment when Rick, her former boyfriend, had so callously dumped her and left her in financial straits, to that day in June back at the fateful hotel when Charles had appeared in the bar, walked towards her and somehow wiped the slate clean so that they could start again, she had finally pulled her life back together. It was more than that; she had made it better.

She saw Charles' car turn the corner of the road and disappear from sight. She decided to text him later, say something romantic to cheer him up and let him know she would try to come to Bath next weekend if she could.

She went back up to her flat and looked around her. It was so much more welcoming now than it had been three months ago when she had returned from the week long course at Nant Glyn House and Kevin, carrying her bag into the empty shell of a flat, had seen the unmistakeable evidence of the mess into which her life had fallen. She had been intending to move out once the rental contract came to an end and find somewhere cheaper but that had meant looking much further afield and making her commute to work quite long. Her promotion to the role of Kevin's Personal Assistant had come with a hefty pay rise and thanks to his assistance a couple of weeks ago with re-negotiating the rent, she had managed to strike a better deal with the landlord. The flat was reasonably well placed for a commute to Head Office and so she had decided to stay on.

Her happiness in the last three months had managed to eradicate the memory of those first two or three months in which she had been living in a sparsely furnished flat, strapped for cash and struggling to feed herself. When Charles had first seen the flat at the start of July, even he had commented on the fact that he felt as if he was back in barracks again which brought home to her just how desperate things had been. She had gradually made the place more homely with the addition of some pictures and soft furnishings and a few personal touches like flowers when Charles came to stay. It felt like her place now and when she got home at the end of a day, even when it was fairly late or her work had been stressful, she was glad to open the door and step inside.

So much had changed for her in the last three months, not only her personal happiness with Charles but in her work. She had accepted the new role working alongside Kevin with a degree of trepidation not knowing quite how things would pan out. They had a good relationship and always had done. Kevin saw his younger self reflected in her and seemed to know what she was thinking. In turn she had energy, was committed, dogged and determined where necessary and always loyal to him.

Molly had been afraid that when she moved to Head Office she would lose touch with her former colleagues at the CSF branch particularly her friend Kate but thankfully they had remained in contact through work and at least once a week Molly managed to find an excuse to call in to see everyone usually bearing cakes or a round of coffee from 'Jackie's' across the road.

Molly knew that she owed Kate a debt of thanks for her part in bringing herself and Charles together. It had been her call that had finally given Charles the impetus he needed to chase off down to Surrey with the intention of rescuing Molly from what he perceived to be the evil clutches of her predatory employer. Kate still liked to think of Charles as being Molly's Knight in shining armour saving a damsel in distress and frequently teased Molly about it. Although Molly couldn't tell Kate the truth of what had happened out of respect and sensitivity for Kevin's personal situation, she had made sure that Kate knew that they had been mistaken in Kevin's intentions. This had at least restored him to Kate's previous good opinion but she continued to jokingly refer to "Sir Charles" whenever she talked of Molly's boyfriend.

With Charles having departed for North Wales, Molly felt at a loose end. She hated these times. It was like waiting to go back to school at the end of the weekend, knowing that all the fun was over for another week. She wandered around the flat tidying up a few muddles that were lying around but without any real purpose. Charles was far tidier than her, a hangover from army life, and she suspected that there were times when he was itching to clean up but restrained himself, respecting that it was Molly's flat and he shouldn't behave as if he had his feet firmly under the table. She did some washing up before making a sandwich and flopping down in front of the television to watch one of the typical Sunday night period dramas that seemed to pepper weekend viewing schedules. She wasn't a great lover of dramas particularly when she had already missed a couple of episodes and the programme was only half holding her attention when she heard her phone ringing and reached to pick up the call.

"Molly, it's Kevin."

She glanced at the time, it was almost nine o'clock and quite late for a call from Kevin on a weekend especially as she had only seen him at lunchtime.

"I'm sorry to do this to you with so little notice but do you think you could do me a big favour and get yourself down to Heathrow for six o'clock tomorrow morning. I've got a guest flying in from the States. He was only able to confirm a couple of hours ago. I was intending to meet him myself but I need to be in the office by seven tomorrow. Do you think you could meet him, treat him to some breakfast and get him to the office for about eight thirty?"

Molly almost gave an audible gulp. Kevin was effectively asking her to leave home by five o'clock tomorrow morning which would mean a very early alarm call.

"Yes, of course, Kevin, but won't he be tired after flying overnight?"

Kevin laughed. "Oh, don't worry about Matthew. He flies strictly first class and he'll be well rested."

"Matthew?" Molly enquired.

"Yes, Matthew Parker. He's the son of a friend of mine. He's been working out in the States. He's a good lad and he's done well for himself, I can tell you. He's coming over to help me with a bit of business."

Molly was intrigued. "Is this what you were going to tell me about tomorrow?"

"Yes, but we'll talk about it properly then."

Kevin gave her the flight details and thanked her again before remarking,

"You'd better get some shut-eye. You looked a bit tired at lunchtime."

Molly dismissed the remark with, "Just a bit busy this weekend, you know."

"Yeah," Kevin replied. "See you tomorrow."

Getting up at four o'clock in the morning hadn't been part of Molly's plans for Monday. She decided that she'd better get herself organised if she was going to rise before dawn and still do a full day's work. She set about finding some clothes for tomorrow: a smart pair of trousers and a jacket, a business-like blouse and a pair of heels. She spent some time contemplating the height of the heels and weighing up the various merits of lower versus higher. There could be more walking involved in an airport visit than she expected. Airport terminals were large places. Comfortable heels might be better. The sight of killer heels might strike a man dead in his tracks but after a while they also rendered the wearer incapacitated and she opted for a more sensible pair than she might normally choose for work. It was obvious that Kevin valued this Matthew Parker, particularly if he was sending Molly to meet and greet him on his behalf. She called a taxi firm and booked a cab for Heathrow at five o'clock in the morning and finally turned out the light at ten o'clock anxiously setting her alarm before going to sleep.

X-X-X-X

It was almost eleven o'clock when Charles pulled up outside his apartment in the stable yard at Nant Glyn House. To his surprise a light was on in the storeroom in the corner of the yard. Bing popped his head around the door curious at the sound of the car arriving. He greeted Charles as he got out and stretched after the long drive.

"Made it back here before Ade then."

Charles glanced across to see Ade's parking space empty and assumed that he probably wouldn't return until first thing in the morning after a weekend spent with Giselle in London.

Bing had forgiven him about the 'no show' for Sunday lunch on the day he had gone to London to meet with Molly. However, Charles wasn't so sure that Bing's wife, Sarah had forgotten it. Bing hadn't been entirely in favour of Sarah's match-making plans but had been trying to steer the path of least resistance. Sarah had been privately cross with Charles but had brushed it off in public as being of no matter and as her friend, Cerys, had not been party to the match-making plot she was none the wiser.

"So how's it all going with young Molly?"

Bing seemed inclined to chat although Charles was feeling tired and given the way things had seemed between them when he left London he felt a bit reluctant to talk about it.

"Oh fine, you know." It was a weak response and Bing picked up on the lack of conviction in his reply.

"I thought you were love's young dream."

Charles carried on taking his bag out of the car and Bing continued idly, "Well, there's always Kate Allen."

Charles pulled a face. They both knew this was a joke. Charles had eventually come clean to him about the mistake over names and Bing had felt slightly embarrassed about a few of his previous comments but had taken the news in reasonably good part and referred to the fact that he'd always suspected Charles was a bit of dark horse and this just confirmed it in his eyes. Nevertheless, he still liked to drop a Kate Allen comment every so often just to keep the private joke alive.

"As a matter of fact, "Charles said, "I met her husband a couple of weeks ago." He was referring to a dinner party thrown by Kate to which he and Molly had been invited. "He's a nice chap." Charles continued. "However, I don't think he'd be keen on a Ménage a trois."

Bing smiled. "Why don't you invite Molly up here? We'll keep out of your way. You can take her up on the hills for a gentle, romantic stroll."

Charles paused trying to imagine Molly walking up Snowdon, possibly cussing, complaining and turning the air blue as she climbed although given Charles' physical limitations after his injury and her lack of mountaineering experience they might be a well-matched pair. Bringing his thoughts back to reality however, he said,

"I'm having enough trouble persuading her to come down to Bath next weekend, let alone asking her to come up here again to the back of beyond."

Bing raised his eyebrows. "Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks," Charles replied. "I think I might gonna need it!"

Bing locked up the storeroom and bidding Charles goodnight wandered back up the drive towards the Lodge House. Charles picked up his bag and unlocking his apartment wandered in, setting his belongings down by the bed. He took his phone out of his pocket. The reception was good but there were no new messages. He toyed with the idea of texting Molly but it was late and she would probably have gone to bed. He didn't want the beep of a new message to disturb her and he knew she slept with her phone by the bed. He'd wait until the morning and let her have a good night's rest.

X-X-X-X

Molly shivered as she stood in the arrivals area at Terminal Five. There had been a chill in the air this morning. The seasons were definitely on the change and autumn was approaching. The alarm had disturbed her from a dream in which Charles was introducing her to his son, Sam, who despite his age, bore a striking a resemblance to a TV talent judge who kept firing questions at her without waiting for an answer before pressing a large red buzzer and shaking his head. She awoke in the darkness feeling slightly sweaty and groaned seeing the clock showing ten minutes past four. She sank back on the pillows, still drowsy and must have nodded off again until she woke with a jolt to see that twenty minutes had passed. She threw herself out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, thankful she had sorted out her clothes last night. As she hit the shower she felt suddenly weak after the adrenalin rush but the warm water began to revive her. She dressed rapidly and slapped on some make-up. She would like to have done something interesting with her hair but there wasn't time to do anything beyond scrape it into a pony tail before the buzzer indicated the booked taxi had arrived.

At last she was able to sink into the seat in the back of the cab and shut her eyes for a while as the taxi headed out of town. The driver, coming to the end of a night shift, was intending to catch another fare back into central London before knocking off for the night. It was late for him and too early for Molly. There was no need for conversation and she wasn't forced to listen to the list of celebrities he'd carried in the back of his cab.

She reached Heathrow in good time. The arrivals board showed that the flight from Boston had landed and as Molly waited in the arrivals area she realised that she didn't know what Matthew Parker looked like and she hadn't brought a sign. She reached into her bag, found an old advertising flyer and wrote on the back in black ball point pen 'Matthew Parker'.

Passengers were beginning to emerge from the immigration and baggage claim area. Molly watched a series of business men with laptops and brief cases walking through but none glanced in her direction. When she finally saw the tall, slim and tanned, blonde-haired man pause about ten feet away from her, look at the sign in her hands, blink and then raise a quizzical eyebrow in her direction, she assumed that he must be the person she was waiting for. He walked towards her, breaking into broad smile which displayed the dazzling white of his perfect teeth.

"God, Kevin, you've changed," he said.

She couldn't quite place his accent. It had once been typical of south east England but had acquired a definite American twang. She guessed he had been working in America for some time. She also realised that Kevin hadn't managed to get a message through to him before he left Boston.

"How do you do?" He held out his hand clearly expecting her to introduce herself.

"Molly," she supplied. "Molly Dawes."

"Nice to meet you, Molly, but I have to tell you that your sign is wrong," he remarked.

Molly turned it over in her hands to look at it expecting to see a spelling mistake but could see nothing wrong. The lettering was bold and legible and his name was correct. He watched her going through the motions and must have thought that she looked baffled by his statement because he smiled at her again and said with a shake of his head,

"The name's Matt. Only my Dad and Kevin get away with calling me anything else." He leaned closer, gave her an appraising look up and down and lowering his voice said, "Now where would I be if I let you take any liberties with me?"