Page 14 of Hearts Colliding
“Eh? What?” Ryan jumped as Joss, next to him, swatted his arm.
“Forget taking notes, ‘cause nobody can read your writing anyway.” Joss pointed to the tiny laptop he’d set up, the curser blinking on the blank document. “I’ve volunteered myself as secretary to the war council.”
“The — what?”
Joss answered with a grin.
“Does anyone have any idea what’s behind all this?” Declan leaned forward and looked around the table. “He stands to make a mint if he can get this through, but he’s worth a fortune already — I did a deep dive into the internet — so it can’t only be about the money. But developing the house and the estate? That’s what I don’t get because it’s his inheritance and history…” Declan shrugged, and slumped back into his chair.
“He’s not been near the place for years, which means he doesn’t give a damn about it.” All eyes turned to Ryan. “But why would he feel like that about the house he grew up in, which has been in his family for generations? It might be way off, but I reckon this is personal. It’s like he’s got a grudge against the place.”
“You’re not far off the mark at all, Ryan, my love.” Doreen shook her head, her pale blue curly perm quivering. “Wiping out the Love inheritance and legacyispersonal. But to take it out on the village…”
“Doreen’s right.” Eva said. “Poor lad suffered something terrible when his mum died, so the house won’t hold the best of memories for him.” She lowered her voice. “Old Sir Anthony, he was torn to pieces by Lady Verity’s passing, and he was never the same again. But he took his grief out on his boy, when he never should have.
“Young Alex, he was only around fifteen or so when his mum died. Just a kid, really, and scared stiff of his dad. You could see it in his eyes.” Eva sighed, and shook her head. “But Sir Anthony was a force to be reckoned with. He was a hard man, and he’d been in the army when he was younger, but when he inherited the title he took his responsibilities seriously. He played an active role in the village, and was a major supporter — and I mean financially — of so much of what went on in the Harbour. The pensioners’ lunch club, the animal shelter, any number of groups that helped the community, they’d have all folded if it wasn’t for his backing.
“Love’s Harbour’s doing well, there’s more money swilling around the place than ever before, but it’s only happened in the last handful of years. Before that, it was Love family money that kept so much afloat. If we’d moved against him, for any reason, he could and would have made things very difficult for a lot of people.”
Ryan’s brow tightened. What was it Alex had said earlier, hardly noted at the time through the haze of anger and lust that had overtaken him…not coming back to this godforsaken house, that’s my business…
Charles coughed, and cleared his throat, and all eyes turned his way. “In the spirit of being open and transparent, I should say that I knew Alex when we were teenagers. At school. We weren’t friends, exactly, and he never confided in me, but he did hint that his home life wasn’t the best.”
“It certainly wasn’t.” Eva glanced at Doreen before continuing. “You can’t keep much secret in a village, and we all heard rumours that Sir Anthony was a terrible bully to his boy. Not physically, we never got wind of anything like that — but they say mental and emotional bullying can be just as bad and leave invisible scars. We, the village I mean, should have got the welfare involved.”
Silence fell upon them all, even the click of Joss’ fingers on the keyboard had stopped. Doreen and Eva, like so many of the older residents, were the repository of the village’s history. The Grannies’ Grapevine, which always made Ryan and Joss snigger, knew the good, the bad, and the ugly of the village. They knew the dark as well as the light, and Alex’s history, or the known pieces of it being gathered around the table, was tethered to the shadows.
“I’ll, erm, delete all this about his background, shall I?” Joss’ question broke the silence, and was met with words and nods of agreement.
Ryan scratched his head with his pen. “Whatever his past is, that can’t be changed. What we have to concentrate on is making sure he doesn’t screw up the village for the future. We could psychoanalyse him all night, but that’s not what we’re here for. Whatever the reasons behind it all, he’s here as a property developer, getting ready to squeeze every penny he can out of the house, the estate, and the Jenkins land before he turns his back and walks away. Despite his name, he doesn’t care about Love’s Harbour. But we do, and that means galvanising the village into taking action and not accepting this lying down. Agreed?”
“That’s true fighting talk, Ryan. So, how do you propose we go forward?” Oliver asked.
“What?” A shock of panic ripped through Ryan as expectant faces all turned to him.
He’d got the ball rolling, the initial nudge for the village to stand together, but were they really expecting him to lead this thing they were getting started? His eyes darted from Oliver to Charles, and back again. Older, educated men, who’d seen a whole lot more of life than the quiet Devonshire backwater that had been the whole of his world. He doodled tight circles on his notepad.
“I, erm, wasn’t expecting to… I mean, I don’t have any experience of—”
“Inciting rebellion? Rallying the troops? Spearheading the revolution?”
Ryan glared at Joss, who answered with a wide smile.
“I doubt any of us do — unless I’m wrong?” Oliver’s comment was met with murmurs of agreement. “But what youdohave is passion, and we wouldn’t be sitting here now if it wasn’t for you. The mechanics of objecting to the proposals are straightforward enough, but we need to ignite opposition, and for that we need fire.” Oliver leaned forward. “You’re well respected in the village, Ryan. Your family’s been here for generations, with long established roots, and that means something in a small community. What you do and say, it matters.”
“I’m a barman. Sure, I’m proud of the business we’ve built up but when it comes down to it, that’s what I am, a barman. I’m not some kind of community leader.” All eyes were turned his way, and heat prickled his face.
Oliver was overstating it, yet wasn’t there something in what he was saying? The pub was at the heart of the village, his family was well known and looked up to. Their good name was everything, both his nan and mum had always said. They were rock solid in their belief, and that same belief had been forged in him.
“But you are a community leader, whether you like it or not. Your family’s standing in the village is important, but there’s something else. You’re not intimidated by Alex when it would be easy to be so, given his wealth and the weight of his family name. You’ve shown yourself to be fearless, and we need that fearlessness, Ryan. We need you.”
Ryan’s cheeks throbbed as he looked from one face to another, hoping for a way out, hoping for somebody to push forward to declare themselves general so he could step back to take up arms as a foot soldier.
“But—”
“Viva la revolución. I’m ready to minute the meeting, Mr. Chairman.”
Joss’ fingers hovered over the keyboard.
