A Second Chance For The Millionaire. Nicola Marsh

money, and within a few days he’d vanished.’

      ‘Meaning that it will be some time before I can collect rent from these establishments again,’ Darius said in a mild manner that revealed nothing.

      ‘I’m afraid so. Of course, what he’s done is legally open to question since he made over everything to you, so technically it was your money he took. You could always try to get it back.’

      His tone made it clear that he didn’t attach much hope to that idea. Darius, who attached none at all, controlled his temper. It wasn’t his way to display emotion to employees.

      ‘How much are we talking about?’ he said with a shrug.

      He felt less like shrugging when he saw the figures. Rancing had staged a spectacular theft and there was nothing he could do about it. But at all costs Henly mustn’t be allowed to suspect his dismay.

      ‘No problem,’ Darius said as indifferently as he could manage. ‘The tourism season is just starting. I shan’t let a detail get me down.’

      Henly’s eyes widened at the idea of such a financial blow being a mere detail. He began to think the stories of Mr Falcon’s impending ruin were untrue after all.

      Darius, who’d intended him to think exactly that, asked casually, ‘Did he leave owing you any money?’

      ‘I’m afraid he did—’

      ‘All right, just send me a detailed bill. That’s all for now.’

      For several days he remained in the house, rising early to link up with business contacts on one side of the world, eating whatever Kate brought him and barely taking his eyes from the computer screen. As the hours wore on, he turned to the other side of the world where he had business contacts whose day was just beginning. Day and night ceased to exist; all he knew was what he needed to do to survive.

      On a whim, he searched the local phone directory until he found Harriet Connor, living in Bayton Street in Ellarick. A map showed him that it was in the centre of the town.

      Then he put away the papers quickly. What did he care where she lived?

      Thinking back to his work, at last he felt he’d put things on a firmer footing and could dare to hope. Perhaps it was time to venture outside. He’d hired a car but so far not used it. Now he drove into Ellarick, parked in a side street and got out to walk.

      No doubt it was pure chance that made him walk down Bayton Street. He reckoned that must have been the reason because he’d forgotten her address. Now he found himself in a place of expensive shops and hotels that looked even more expensive. The tourist trade must be good. No doubt she did well out of the hotels.

      There was her shop, on the corner, and through the open door he could just see her with a female customer. There was a child there too, and Harriet was talking to the little boy, giving him all her attention, as though nobody else mattered. He was clutching a large model boat, and Darius saw him turn to the woman and say, ‘Please, Mum. Please.’

      He could just make out her reply, ‘No, darling, it’s too expensive.’

      For a moment the child looked rebellious, but then he sniffed and handed the boat to Harriet. She took it thoughtfully, then suddenly said, ‘I could always make a discount.’

      The mother gasped, and gasped again when she saw the piece of paper on which Harriet had written the price. ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Quite sure. It ought to go to someone who’ll really appreciate it.’

      Darius moved quickly back into a doorway as the woman paid up and hurried away with the child. The last thing he wanted was for Harriet to realise that he’d witnessed this scene. Instinct told him that she wouldn’t be pleased at knowing he’d seen her kindly side any more than he would be at knowing she’d seen his. Not that he admitted to having a kindly side.

      He waited until she put up the shutters before hurrying back to the car.

      The following night he was out walking again, much later this time. Darkness had fallen as he headed for the harbour. At last he came to a public house and went inside, only to find the place too crowded for his mood.

      ‘It’s nice outside,’ the barman suggested. ‘Plenty of space there.’

      He led Darius to the garden, where a few tables were laid out. From one of them came laughter.

      ‘We’re near the lifeboat station,’ the barman explained, ‘so the crew members tend to come in here to relax after a call out. That’s them, just there.’

      He pointed to where two women and four men were sitting around a table, laughing and talking. They were well lit, but then the lights faded into darkness, tempting Darius to slip in among the trees, hoping to remain unseen. From here he could catch a distant glimpse of the sea, that mysteriously always had the power to make him feel better.

      A cheer rose from the table, making him back away, but not before he’d seen who was sitting there, surrounded by laughing admirers.

      It was her. The Bad Fairy. Or was she now the Good Fairy? He wished she’d let him make up his mind.

      The man beside her put a friendly hand on her shoulder, roaring, ‘Harry, you’re a fraud.’

      ‘Of course I’m a fraud, Walter,’ she teased back. ‘That’s the only fun thing to be.’

      Harriet, he remembered. Harry.

      Was there no escape from the pesky woman? Why here and now, spoiling his quiet contemplation? And why was she wearing a polo shirt that proclaimed her a member of the lifeboat crew?

      Phantom was at her feet, and Darius had a chance to study him. Before, he’d sensed only a very large dog of no particular breed. Now he could see that Phantom’s ancestry included a German Shepherd, a St Bernard, and possibly a bloodhound. He was a handsome animal with a benign air that at any other time Darius would have appreciated. Now he only remembered the heavy creature pinning him to the ground and making a fool of him.

      The crowd around the table were still chattering cheerfully.

      ‘So what are we going to do about this guy who thinks he owns the place?’ Walter asked.

      ‘Actually, he really does own the place,’ Harriet sighed. ‘And there’s nothing we can do. We’re stuck with him, I’m sorry to say.’

      A groan went up, and someone added, ‘Apparently, he’s spending money like there’s no tomorrow, yet according to the newspapers he’s a poor man now. Go figure.’

      ‘Hah!’ Harriet said cynically. ‘What we call poor and what Darius Falcon calls poor would be a million miles apart.’

      Now Darius was even more glad of the trees hiding him, so that they couldn’t see his reaction to the contemptuous way she spoke his name.

      ‘It’s a big act,’ she went on. ‘He has to splash it around to prove he can afford to, but actually he’s a fraud.’

      ‘Gee, you really took against him!’ said the other woman sitting at the same table. ‘Just because he got mad at Phantom for ruining his suit. I adore Phantom, but let’s face it, he’s got form for that kind of thing.’

      Amid the general laughter, Harriet made a face.

      ‘It wasn’t just that,’ she said. ‘It’s also the way I first saw him, with his head thrown back, drinking in the sun.’

      ‘Perhaps he just likes nature,’ Walter suggested.

      ‘That’s what I thought. I even liked him for it, but then I didn’t know who he was. Now I see. He was standing there like a king come into his birthright. He owns the land and he owns us, that’s how he sees it.’

      ‘He told you that?’

      ‘He didn’t need to. It was all there in his attitude.’ She assumed a declamatory pose. ‘I’m the boss here