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What an evening! As she lay in bed, gazing up in the darkness to the pale glow of the ceiling, she could have almost laughed if it weren’t all so tragic. She had lost her job and David in one fell swoop, although the latter she was well rid of, and it looked as though her little band of children, more like family than anything eise, were going to be turned out of their school and forced to make the journey to Chitten. Her heart gave a little wrench as she pictured them one by one in her mind. Little Ann Cartwright was doing so well, in spite of her severe speech impediment, but she would just shrivel up in the anonymity of a big school, and Kevin... Now she couldn’t stop the hot tears from seeping out of her eyes. He had lost his father recently in a farming accident and was still at the stage where he was clinging to her all day long. He would never cope with a change of schools.
How she hated Cameron Strythe! She sat up in bed suddenly and clenched her fists in helpless frustration. The man was a monster, a cold, unfeeling monster. Well, he couldn’t just come back and wreck all their lives for the second time. She bit on her lip until she tasted blood. She would stop him. She didn’t know how, but she would stop him, if it was the last thing she ever did. She wouldn’t rest until he was crushed and broken...as Michelle had been on that night so long ago when he had left the house with his head held high and she had raced into the sitting-room to hear her sister moaning like an animal, crouched on her knees on the carpet.
She would wait until either fate or opportunity put a weapon in her hands and then she would use it, without pity and with no regard for his feelings.
He would find that the younger Baker sister wasn’t such a push-over as her big sister. She would play him at his own game—and win!
CHAPTER TWO
IN THE cold light of day Candy woke up to the knowledge that Cameron Strythe was holding all the aces and she hated Monday mornings! The school was always freezing owing to being unoccupied all weekend, and the huge, unsightly radiators that were so inefficient always took all day to get the place warm.
After fixing a light breakfast of toast and coffee she sat curled up on the sitting-room window-seat watching the rain pour down outside. ‘Come down to earth, girl,’ she muttered to herself as she sipped the hot liquid slowly. ‘You haven’t got an earthly against him.’ It would be the easiest thing in the world to close down the school; the council had been angling for it for years. It had only been Colonel Strythe’s influence on the various committees he attended, plus the big, fat allowance he made the school each year, that had kept it open this far, and obviously all that had come to an end.
‘Oh, Jasper...’ She allowed herself the brief indulgence of wallowing in self-pity for a few moments, her head buried in the warm, thick fur of the golden retriever, then squared her shoulders determinedly. Well, she might not be able to fight him with regard to the school, but she wouldn’t leave a stone unturned to make his victory as empty as possible.
‘Good morning, Miss Baker.’ For the second time since his return Cameron forced her to give an exclamation of surprise as she swung round from the blackboard mid-morning to see him standing just inside the classroom door. ‘I hope I’m not intruding?’ His eyes dared her to speak her mind with the children watching and expressed malicious satisfaction when she forced herself to speak pleasantly.
‘Not at all, Mr Strythe. What can I do for you?’
‘I just thought I would pop in and see you at work,’ he answered coolly. ‘I trust you have no objection.’
‘What a pity.’ Her eyes darted black fire, but her mouth was smiling for the little onlookers surveying them so interestedly. ‘It’s time for the children’s playtime.’ As she provided each child with a carton of milk and an apple, another of Colonel Strythe’s blessings, she was aware of Cameron taking note of the crumbling plaster and creaking floorboards, but ignored him pointedly. ‘It’s stopped raining, children. All out into the playground. Mrs Harris has just arrived.’
When the last child had left the room and she had checked that they were all safely in the small playground with Karen Harris, one of the mother-helpers, she turned to Cameron with a frankly hostile expression on her face. ‘Well?’
‘You know, you really do have the most charming way with you,’ he drawled slowly as he walked over to the empty picnic basket and flicked the lid with one finger. ‘And who provides this little service each day? And don’t tell me the council, because they gave free milk up years ago.’
‘It was never given up at this school,’ Candy answered coldly. ‘Your father always saw to it that the required number of cartons of milk and apples were delivered each morning.’
‘And who twisted his arm for that little act of generosity?’ His voice was purposely insulting.
‘I have no idea,’ she returned acidly, ‘considering I was merely a child myself at the time. Does it matter? Your father liked children, unlike some men.’ She didn’t even try to hide the meaning behind her barbed words.
‘Meaning I don’t?’ There was an element of bewilderment in his face.
‘Jamie is nearly ten years old now.’ She had clearly lost him along the way; she could see it in the narrowing puzzlement of those piercing blue eyes. ‘Jamie, Michelle’s child.’ His face hardened at the explanation and his mouth straightened into a thin, cruel line.
‘So?’ He was looking down at her in spite of her considerable height. He must be at least six feet four, she thought irrelevantly, and then returned to the attack, annoyed that her mind could wander at a moment like this.
‘So?’ She could feel the colour of her cheeks was matching the red of her hair but she didn’t care. This man was incredible, absolutely incredible! ‘Aren’t you even interested in seeing him?’
‘Any particular reason why I should be?’ he said coldly, his face thundery.
She was saved the necessity of a reply by a timid knocking at the door that led into the playground. ‘Please, miss...’ Little Julie Roberts was standing on the threshold with one arm supportively round Kevin’s thin, trembling shoulders. ‘He wants you.’
‘What’s wrong, Kevin?’ She went down on her heels in front of the small, woebegone figure, who lifted a grubby, tear-stained face up to her with a loud sniff.
‘I want me mam.’
‘You know she’s coming for you later, after work, and Grandma is picking you up for lunch, isn’t she?’ He nodded dismally, a wealth of sadness in his large blue eyes. She rose up with him in her arms and carried him over to her chair, ignoring Cameron as though he didn’t exist.
‘It’s your birthday soon, isn’t it?’ She had found in the last few weeks since his father had died that distraction was the best policy, combined with a close cuddle. He nodded again, looking up at her quickly.
‘How old will you be?’
‘You know, miss.’ He wriggled delightedly at her asking.
‘Oh, yes.’ She pretended to consider a moment. ‘Twenty-one, isn’t it?’
‘Six.’
‘Six?’ She clapped a hand over her mouth in mock horror. ‘But you’re enormous! You aren’t kidding me, are you?’ He shook his head, but she noticed that the tears had dried up and a small smile was playing round the milk-stained mouth.
‘I bet you’ll get lots of presents.’ She knew for a fact that half the village had already bought the small lad a gift, stunned and horrified as they all were at the tragic accident.
‘I can’t have a party.’ He turned his great eyes up to her again. ‘Me mam hasn’t got enough pennies this year.’ He was clearly going to follow the train of thought that would lead him to why and his father’s death, so she cut in quickly, her voice bright.
‘Oh,