“Fine,” he said, his tone nonchalant as he turned his attention back to the file he’d been reviewing when Sharon walked in. He was playing it cool but he was actually looking forward to talking with Golden. There was just something that drew him to her. Maybe it was his protective instinct. She was like a fragile China doll to be handled with care. And as much as he’d told Sharon they needed to mind their own business he planned to do the exact opposite. There was a lot more to this girl than what they could see on the surface and he planned to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Golden Browne.
***
It was with a huge sense of relief that Golden walked out of the office of Davidoff Fashions that Friday evening having completed her first week as a member of staff. She’d made it.
She’d been extremely nervous that first day wondering if she would fit in, if she would be able to manage the work or if she would end up making a fool of herself. She was sure the people at Davidoff Fashions would all be snobs. And then she’d met the delightful Sharon Crow and others like David Pearson from marketing and Lisa and Sienna from accounting. They’d all been unbelievably friendly, putting her so much at ease that she began to gain confidence, even venturing to go out with them one evening to have drinks.
Later she’d paid the price for that adventure. Dunstan Manchester was waiting up for her and as soon as she walked in the door he began to bombard her with questions. Why was she in so late? Where had she been? Had she been asked to work late?
None of which was any of his business, of course, but Golden knew exactly what was behind his questions. It was fear. The fear that somehow, despite his efforts to keep her isolated, she’d developed an interest in someone of the opposite sex.
And, as far as her stepfather was concerned, that was the worst thing that could ever happen.
She’d always been a shy girl, never going out with boys, always staying close to home. That had suited him just fine. She’d even told her mother she had no intention of ever getting married. Knowing Eugenia, she’d probably shared that tidbit with her husband and he must have been happy as a lark to hear that.
Because if he could keep her like that, under his control and unmarried until the age of twenty-one, then the world would be his oyster.
Golden shook her head. She didn’t even want to think about it. She had a major decision to make but for now, just for this weekend, she would forget about it and take one day at a time. One hour, even.
She glanced at the clock. Almost eight. She would read for an hour or so and then turn in early. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
When Saturday came, instead of lounging in bed Golden got up early, did the laundry and prepared her work clothes for the coming week. As she hung the freshly laundered skirts and blouses in her closet she grimaced. Although her co-workers had been nice about it, treating her like they did everyone else, she couldn’t deny that she stood out like a lowly daffodil in a garden of elegant lilies. She needed new clothes for work. These demure skirts and tops were just not cutting it. There wasn’t much she could do, though, until she got her first paycheck and that wouldn’t be until the end of the month.
And she wouldn’t even bother asking her mother for a small loan until she got paid. Manchester held such a tight hold on Eugenia’s finances that she couldn’t touch her own money without him questioning her about it. Golden did not want to go there.
With savings of just a couple of hundred pounds there was no way she could venture into any fashionable store. Harrods and Burberry were just a dream. Even Debenhams and BHS Oxford Street were out. With a limited budget like hers, her best bet was to visit the nearest thrift shop and riffle through the racks until she’d found some nice suits. She’d found some treasures there before and now would be a good time to go browsing again.
But first she had a very important stop to make. She’d been late to Claire’s last time and she was not going to do a repeat today, not because she was afraid of the old lady’s reprimand but simply because she liked to keep her promise. And besides, she was looking forward to seeing Claire. With her mother so hesitant to share in her joy, who else could she tell about her first full week as an employed person?
Golden walked into the nursing home, a bright smile on her face. Eager to tell her good news she called out to Claire as soon as she turned into the room. “Guess what? I’m a new woman.”
The words had barely left her lips when she realized that something was wrong. Claire was sitting in her armchair by the window, looking out onto the garden below, her unguarded face a study in sorrow.
As soon as she heard Golden she blinked as if bringing herself back to the present then her hand went up to flick something from her cheek, something that, to Golden, looked suspiciously like a tear.
“Claire, are you all right?” A frisson of fear coursed through her and she hurried over to where her friend sat clutching the quilt that covered her knees.
As long as Golden had known her, Claire had seemed healthy and strong but had something happened during the past week? Could she have fallen ill? Golden’s heart began to pound. No matter that she was no blood relation to Claire she’d grown so close to her over the past year that the old lady was like a grandmother to her. And now that she’d found her was she to lose her? Her chest tight, Golden reached Claire and laid a hand on her arm, praying that she was fine. “What is it?” she asked, her voice gentle. “Tell me.”
Claire looked up, her face stern. “What are you babbling about, child? Give me a hug and stop this foolishness.”
Golden pulled back, her eyes narrowing as she regarded her friend. “Don’t give me that, Claire. I know something’s wrong. Tell me what’s upsetting you.”
Claire’s frown deepened into a scowl and she buttoned her lips, looking so sulky and determined that Golden could just imagine what she’d been like as a two-year-old.
But Golden was not about to be intimidated by this show of stubbornness. She had to find out what was going on.
“Tell me, Claire,” she said again. “I’m not going to stop hounding you until you tell me what’s troubling you.”