Page 56 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
The corridor was stark but spotlessly clean and brightly lit. There were six doors, three on each side — theirs was the middle one on the right. She slid the key into the lock and opened the door.
And froze.
Something was off. The curtains were still drawn, and there were two empty wine glasses on the floor beside the sofa. Alingering hint of perfume in the air — a familiar perfume, but not hers.
A giggle from the bedroom. Then Jeremy’s voice: “You little minx.”
And as if she needed any further confirmation, there was a red leather jacket on the coat rack on the wall. Jayde’s red leather jacket.
Very quietly she stepped back into the corridor and closed the door, and stood staring at it.
There were two options. She could open the door again, storm in, catch them red-handed — create an almighty scene with them all screaming at each other and probably ending up with everything being twisted and making her the one who was in the wrong.
Or she could leave now, come back after they’d gone, collect her things and be on the road back to Devon before Jeremy came home. Leaving her engagement ring and a brief note telling him that she had decided not to marry him, leaving him to try to figure out her reasons.
She smiled grimly. Of the two, the latter was probably the best one to go with. Cold, dignified. Making it clear that she was the one doing the rejecting, not the one being rejected and cheated on.
With her own stepsister! That would certainly be an explosive relationship. They’d either be good for each other, compensating for each other’s flaws, or they’d end up killing each other.
She smiled again. Of the two options . . .
Chapter Eleven
The motorway traffic westbound out of London was quite heavy until she got past Bristol, then she was able to put her foot down. Soaring along the elevated section of the M5 above the Gordano Valley with her headlights spearing through the gathering dusk, Vicky felt as if she was flying.
Thirty-two thousand pounds! Incredible. She had almost hugged Monsieur Laurent, the jeweller. He had identified the dragonfly brooch as a Cartier piece, and had been delighted with it, cooing over it as if it had been a fluffy kitten.
And that wasn’t the only cause for satisfaction. Any doubts that maybe she had leaped to the wrong conclusion about Jeremy and Jayde had been blown away within twenty minutes of leaving the apartment.
She had popped in for coffee and a bite of lunch in the café on the ground floor of the block. Watching out of the window, she had seen them come out — holding hands. And at the bus stop they had kissed. And not just a brotherly kiss on the cheek, either.
Apparently Jayde didn’t adhere to the Girl Code. But even for her, it was a new low — pinching her sister’s fiancé. Well, ex-fiancé, but neither of them had known that.
Anyway, good riddance to the pair of them — they deserved each other. So much for ‘sensible’. Maybe it was time to follow her dreams instead. And now, thanks to Aunt Molly, she could afford to do that — at least for a while.
It had taken her little more than an hour to pack up her clothes and the few other things she wanted to keep — her books, a couple of photo albums, some CDs and DVDs, and a few other bits and bobs she had brought back from holidays when she was younger.
She had left her engagement ring with a carefully worded note for Jeremy on the kitchen table, and a letter of resignation without notice from the Thorington estate agency. Let them try to sue her — that could be fun!
Then she had walked away from the apartment with no regrets.
It was dark by the time she got home. Pulling onto the gravel drive she glanced up at the cottage, welcoming in the moonlight, and smiled. Home — how quickly Molly’s cottage, and Sturcombe, already felt like home!
After the long drive to London and back in a day she was tired. A light snack and an early night beckoned. A couple of cheese toasties and a cup of coffee — one of the first things she was going to treat herself to, as well as a new television and a WiFi connection, was a good coffee-maker.
Ten minutes later she was curled up on the sofa, watching one of her favourite comedy panel shows. Jeremy hadn’t liked it, she recalled — in fact he hadn’t liked many comedies. Or movies, unless they were ‘art house’ movies with subtitles.
But she didn’t have to take account of Jeremy’s tastes anymore. She could watch whatever she liked.
She had taken her phone out of her bag and set it down on the coffee table beside her, but she hadn’t turned it on — she could guess what would be awaiting her. She’d finish her coffee first.
Or maybe she wouldn’t bother to answer it at all tonight. They could all wait until tomorrow.
* * *
Vicky didn’t wake until the sun was already climbing up the sky. She lay for a while, reliving that moment in the very exclusive Hatton Garden jewellers.
In that moment everything had changed. She wasn’t sure that she had fully absorbed all the implications yet. The first thought that came into her mind was that she was going to be able to keep the cottage.
