Thank you for reading and for all your lovely reviews. I'm glad you are enjoying the story and I'm sorry about the delay in updating but unfortunately I was waylaid by real life for a few days. Hopefully, the updates will follow a little more swiftly from here onwards. Thanks for your patience.
Chapter Four
Charles looked out of the window into the quadrangle of what had once been the stable yard at Nant Glyn House, seeing the shiny wet flagstones, hearing water dripping from the eaves of the converted single storey buildings and realised it was not the best day for outdoor activities. He drank the mug of coffee his Nespresso machine had just brewed. Normally, he went across to the House and onto the terrace for some fresh air and a few minutes contemplation before the start of the day but this morning given the rain and squally wind he remained sitting where he was at the table in his apartment drinking his coffee and eating a bowl of coco pops.
The coco pops were a bad habit he didn't seem able to break. There had been a medic on his third tour of Afghanistan who swore by them and having once been tempted to try them he had developed a liking for them. Rebecca had hated it, telling him that eating sugary breakfast cereals was setting a bad example to Sam. She had complained to him more than once that she could hardly insist upon Sam eating a healthy bowl of organic porridge in the morning if his father ate rubbish like that. He understood her desire to keep Sam's diet healthy but sometimes he wished she would just cut the lad a little slack. At least Sam got to enjoy the bowls of coco pops he ate at his father's home on his weekend visits. It was his little treat and their secret.
Charles had received an email from Sam last night asking him what they would be doing at the weekend. He was seven years old now and keen on outdoor activities. Charles had begun to form an idea of asking Rebecca if Sam could come up to Nant Glyn House and stay with him for a week during the summer holidays. Sarah Crosby had said she'd be more than happy to keep an eye on Sam whilst Charles was working. He was about the same age as her son, Nat, and it would be good company for him. She'd even offered to put Charles and Sam up at the Lodge House for the week as they had a spare room and it would be more comfortable there for both father and son than camping out in Charles bachelor quarters in the stable yard. He made up his mind to broach the subject with Rebecca this weekend when he went down to Bath. He was sure Sam would enjoy himself but he didn't want to get his hopes up if Rebecca poured cold water over it for some as yet unexplained reason.
There was a howl of wind around the quadrangle and Charles gazed up at the sky. It wasn't a great day for raft building but the forecast had stated the weather would start to improve a bit by mid-morning. It might be better to stage one of the indoor team challenges that morning and leave the outdoor activities until the afternoon. As much as he didn't mind inclement weather or being a bit damp or uncomfortable, he was conscious that adverse conditions did tend to affect the enjoyment of fee paying clients and he had to be ever mindful of their comfort. He decided to stroll over to the house after breakfast and discuss the timetable with Bing.
X-X-X-X
As Molly emerged from the bathroom after her shower she saw Kate standing in front of the mirror applying her make up with the kind of precision and finesse that Molly could only dream about. Molly had already done hers in about two minutes flat; a quick slap of concealer and foundation, one layer of waterproof mascara on her eye lashes and just the hint of some colour on her cheeks. Kate, in contrast, was approaching the process as if it were a work of art. She finished applying mascara and seeing Molly's reflection in the mirror looked up at her and said,
"I wish I could get away with that fresh-faced youthful look. It takes a lot of work to make this face look acceptable."
Molly laughed, "What a load of bollocks. There's nothing wrong with your face."
Kate turned her head from left to right and craned her neck smoothing down some imaginary lines.
"I suppose it could be worse," she agreed, "but I'm not sure Phil takes much notice of me anymore and let's face it, he couldn't exactly compete with some of the eye candy on display here."
Molly thought of Kate's husband, a financial adviser in his mid-thirties. She had always considered him to be reasonably good-looking for a slightly older man and although he might not have the physique of someone who seriously worked out in the gym, he was still fairly slim and fit. Above all, he was dependable and reliable and she had no doubt from seeing him with Kate or from the number of times he called her each day when she was at work that he loved her.
"I mean," Kate continued, "look at Ade or Charles."
Molly recalled Kate talking to Bing and Charles in the bar last night and remembered how embarrassed she had felt for her friend being the unconscious subject of Bing's amusement.
"Yes, well, appearances aren't everything, are they?" Molly said.
Kate smiled, "Maybe not, but they certainly help, especially when you're my age."
She paused considering her words before saying in a quiet voice, "I wasn't talking about, you know who, 'Rick the Prick', just now."
"I know," Molly said, "neither was I."
When Molly and Kate came downstairs into the hall, Kate moved off to the left to go and hang up both hers and Molly's bath towels in the drying room. Molly, waiting to go into breakfast with Kate, wandered over to the noticeboard and saw a revised timetable for Tuesday pinned there. The raft building activity for the blue group had been put back until the afternoon with the other groups scheduled to do high and low ropes courses later in the day. Everyone would be undertaking indoor team challenges this morning.
"What's that?" Mike said, leaning in over Molly's shoulder for a better view. He read the paper and then remarked, "Lucky you. I'm looking forward to our turn at raft building. I always fancied joining the Navy when I was at school."
Molly raised her eyebrows, "Did you?" wondering what had happened to transform the idea of a naval career into a branch manager in the recruitment industry. "Well, you can swap with me if you like. I bloody hate water."
"That's a pity!" The well-educated voice that Molly immediately identified as belonging to Charles, spoke from behind her. She turned to see him standing nearby watching her.
"I was looking forward to seeing your maritime skills in action," he said, sounding to Molly's ears as if he thought it would be worthwhile for all the wrong reasons.
She couldn't help retorting, "Where'd you learn yours? In the marines?"
He raised his eyebrows and to her annoyance seemed amused as he nodded his head saying, "Touché!"
He turned away and disappeared in the direction of the office as Molly muttered, "I don't speak bleedin' French."
The indoor team challenges turned out to be enjoyable. The rain and wind battered the lounge windows but inside there was a degree of merriment at large, following on from the fun session held the previous evening. The groups were set a series of problem solving challenges against the clock and were pitched against each other. Once or twice Molly made suggestions which proved successful and was pleasantly surprised to hear Charles utter, "Well done," when the blue team managed to succeed thanks to her contribution. When they broke for lunch Molly felt reasonably happy with the way things had gone although the memory of what was scheduled for the afternoon session cast a small shadow over her satisfaction.
After lunch, as predicted, the weather had cleared. The rain had moved south and although there was still a stiff breeze, sunshine was trying to break through the cloud. Standing at the edge of the lake Molly surveyed the array of barrels, planks and ropes with trepidation and a sense of foreboding. She'd never liked water much, certainly not open water like this, being a non-swimmer. In contrast, everyone else seemed to be enjoying the prospect of a paddle across the lake and there was a lot of laughter and a few jokes flying around.
They had started in the meeting room with Charles outlining the purpose of the task. They had an hour to construct a raft from the materials provided and negotiate a course on the lake from a pebble beach a hundred yards to the left of the house, around a moored buoy and back to the wooden jetty near the front lawn. Peter Thornton, a young, over-eager manager from the East Grinstead branch and keen to make his mark and progress in the company, had readily volunteered to be leader for the task declaring amongst his credentials that he had been in the Sea Scouts as a boy growing up in Southampton.
The group was initially given twenty minutes to work on a design which had to meet with Charles' approval in respect of safety before they were told to proceed to the lake where they would construct and sail the course against the clock. Before they began the construction Charles looked around him,
"Any more questions?"
There were general shakes of the head before he said, "Right, just one thing remains."
He produced a small, blue drawstring bag. "It would be advisable for you to deposit any watches, jewellery or valuables in here to prevent them meeting a watery end."
He moved around the group collecting some watches and a couple of necklaces. Molly, standing at the end of the row, glanced down at her hands and noticed a couple of rings that she wore all the time. She pulled them off and as Charles drew level with her placed them in the upturned palm of her hand ready to tip them into the open bag. He looked down and paused for a second or two before reaching over and taking them from her hand one by one and placing them in the bag. As he turned away from her, pulling the bag tight shut, she saw him frown. He faced the rest of the group.
"Ok, blue team, the clock starts….now!"
They got to work laying the barrels and planks out on the grass as directed by Peter who had assumed the mantle of authority with apparent ease and was ordering them about in tones akin to a Rear Admiral addressing the assembled crew of an Aircraft Carrier. He instructed them to tie all manner of confusing knots that he assured them would keep the raft afloat no matter what happened and had taken the Kontiki across the Pacific. Molly, never one for handicrafts, in fact knitting was a skill entirely unknown in the Dawes household, attempted to follow his instructions but met with a few disappointed shakes of the head when her knots failed to pass Peter's inspection.
Once the raft had finally been assembled everyone donned helmets and buoyancy jackets and together they lifted up the raft and carried it to the water's edge before scrambling aboard and grabbing a paddle each. To Molly, who possessed no sea legs, it felt very unstable and as they paddled in an uncoordinated fashion out towards the moored buoy and with the wind in their faces, it seemed like a very difficult task. Progress was slow but they began to make headway with Peter calling out 'stroke' at regular intervals as if he was a cox in The Boat Race. It was beginning to get on Molly's nerves and she even heard the mild-mannered Alex Handford, perched in front of her, mutter, "Belt up, you prat!"
Eventually, they reached the buoy and manoeuvred their way around it. As they did so, Molly caught sight of Charles strolling around the edge of the lake heading towards the jetty and their finishing point still holding the stopwatch in his hand. Peter started up the cry of 'stroke' again and this time Alex called out, "For god's sake shut up, Pete."
The raft was half-way between the buoy and the jetty when a strong gust of wind caught it side-on and propelled them off course. The raft wobbled and Alex Handford, lurched backwards knocking Molly off balance. The barrel beneath her which had started to move more freely as the ropes loosened, in spite of Peter's claims, shifted to one side and she started to slip. She tried to grip with her knees but as Alex pulled himself upright again he caught her with his elbow and she fell into the water letting go of the paddle. The icy coldness of the water enveloped her and in the shock of hitting the water she struggled for a few seconds to catch her breath. The water was well beyond her depth but the buoyancy jacket held her upright. She kicked with her feet trying to move herself nearer to the raft and heard Melanie and a couple of the others calling out to say they'd get her out in half a minute.
"Just stay there," Peter Thornton called out to her.
"I aint bleedin' well going anywhere you numpty," she retorted in what would have been a terse voice if it hadn't come out as a whisper through gritted teeth.
The raft floated back towards her and hands reached out to haul Molly back on board. She clambered up feeling the water draining from her clothes. The wind was whipping across the lake again and in spite of it being June the dampness combined with the breeze froze her and her teeth began to chatter. The raft was only about twenty yards from the jetty now and they steered a course towards it. Molly could see Charles standing there waiting for them to return. As they reached the end of the jetty he leaned over to pull the raft alongside.
Molly clambered off the raft. The water dripped from her clothes forming pools around her feet as she pulled off her helmet and buoyancy jacket and padded towards the lawn. Charles looked briefly in her direction but said nothing and carried on securing the raft whilst the others climbed off. When everyone was back on dry land he turned to address them all,
"Not bad. You made it across in the time. More or less." He glanced at Molly and she thought he was trying to suppress a smile. "There's just one problem." He looked around them waiting for a response or suggestion but when none was forthcoming he said, "You're minus some equipment."
He pointed out to the lake where Molly's paddle could be seen floating about thirty yards from the shore. He turned his gaze upon her.
"Any chance of you popping back in to fetch it, seeing as you're already soaked and you were the one who dropped it."
For a moment Molly thought he was joking but as he stood there with his arms folded and no hint of a smile on his face she realised he was fully expecting her to comply with his suggestion. She was cold, shivering, her teeth were chattering and she already felt humiliated at being the only one to fall into the water. She returned his look and said in a uncompromising voice,
"I can't swim and if you think I'm going back for that you can go and take a run and jump yourself."
She turned and set off at a pace back towards the house feeling the soaked cotton material of her trousers rubbing like sandpaper against her thighs with each step that she took.
She heard the splash followed by the sound of a small cheer and turned around in time to see Charles' head breaking the surface of the lake. His boots lay on the jetty and he was striking out towards the abandoned paddle to retrieve it. For a few seconds she watched him in astonishment as his clean, fast strokes ate up the distance. She shook her head.
"Bloody pranet!"
Let him show off if he wanted. She was sure the others would appreciate his efforts but she didn't care. She turned her back and carried on towards the house.
She was uncomfortable, cold, clammy and shaking by the time she reached the main entrance to the house. The heated drying room was located in the basement and accessed by a door on the left of the entrance. Molly decided to head straight down there and deposit her wet shoes and jacket before going upstairs to change. After the chill outside, the heat from the warm pipes in the room was soothing. There were plenty of other garments hanging up in there from other activities and she had to move over to the far right hand corner to find a space to hang her clothes. As she did so she spotted the towel Kate had put in there for her that morning and grabbed it meaning to dry her hair. She took off her trainers, socks and jacket and hung them up. All her clothes were soaked and she held up the towel to inspect it; an extra-large bath sheet. She reasoned that the main stairs were only a few feet from the basement door and everyone else was out in the woods doing ropes courses. She undid her trousers and slipped them off quickly followed by her tee shirt before looking around for a space to hang them up.
X-X-X-X
Charles threw the paddle onto the jetty and emerged from the lake. Water streamed from his clothes and his red tee shirt moulded to the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He shook the water from his hair and as he clambered up onto the jetty he received a small round of applause from the rest of the blue team who had stayed to watch. He raised a hand in mock salute and smiled.
"Thank you. If you all want to make your way round to the meeting room we'll do an analysis of the activity in a few minutes. I just need a quick change."
He strode up to the house carrying his boots and belongings. He kept a spare change of clothes in the office as it was closer than returning to his accommodation in the stable yard. He collected the bag and made his way towards the drying room. He padded down the stairs in his bare feet and the heavy door, on a slow return hinge, made only the slightest of clicks as it shut. He put down his bag and had already stripped off his tee shirt when he became aware of a movement in the far corner. He peered through the garments hanging on lines strung across the room and caught sight of Molly dressed only in skimpy black pants and a bra, fiddling about hanging up her wet clothes. He couldn't help noticing her firm, shapely body as she stretched up on her tiptoes to reach the top line. Her long dark hair had been towelled dry and was hanging loose in tousled strands around her shoulders.
Charles was captivated by the sight of her and frozen to the spot but conscious of a feeling of voyeurism. He realised he would be unable to extricate himself from the room without drawing attention to his presence and taking a breath cleared his throat.
Molly jumped and instantly turned away searching for the towel and, locating it, bent to pick it up from the floor. Trying to maintain her dignity she wrapped the towel around her like a sarong tucking the end into her cleavage to hold it in place. She stared across the room taking in the sight of his bare chest, the clearly defined six-pack usually hidden beneath shirt, the breadth of his shoulders and the muscular contours of his upper arms. They locked eyes. Neither spoke and Charles felt embarrassed. He knew he should say something but could only manage a feeble,
"I just came down here to change out of my wet clothes."
She seemed to be weighing this up before replying, "Ditto."
Molly moved across the room towards him and in the direction of the door.
"How long were you standing there?"
Charles thought from the tone of her voice that she sounded suspicious.
"I only just came in,"he offered which wasn't strictly true but he didn't want to admit that he'd been watching her.
She had drawn level with him now and was standing only a foot away. She looked up at him and he was struck by the intensity of expression in her green eyes when she said,
"Really?"
She made as if to brush past him and leave but he reached out and grasped her upper arm pulling her back in towards him. She could feel his fingers pressing into her flesh. She looked down at his hand holding onto her and then back at him. He was staring intently, a frown creasing his brow as if confused or undecided. She could hear the thud of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears and then unable to bear the silence said in a tense voice,
"Are you sure you weren't checking out the tattoo on my arse? I don't suppose you can remember it."
He released her arm at once his expression changing to one of surprise. He shook his head in a gesture of disbelief before bending down to pick up the small drawstring bag into which the blue team had placed their valuables. He stood up again and said,
"Perhaps the memory of your tattoo is hazy but I do remember something."
He reached into the bag, drew out an item and held it out to her.
"Your engagement ring."