Mistakes We Make

by Jenny Harper

Genres: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

Sometimes you have to dig deep to discover what you really need. Marketing events manager Molly Keir doesn’t realise how much she still cares for her ex until she meets him with another woman. Her answer is to seize the chance of a glittering job in London – even though this will mean leaving behind her aging father and pregnant best friend Lexie Gordon. Adam Blair is in the wrong job. Pressured by his father to join the family law firm, the stress of work helped break his marriage. Now Molly is moving to London, and he knows he needs to move on – but events soon overtake his best intentions. A year ago, Caitlyn Murray quit her well-paid job to avoid becoming a whistleblower. Now she is stuck at home with her overworked mother and four needy step-siblings. Tempted by the offer of a good wage, she returns to her old firm – where her nightmare comes back to haunt her. Molly and Adam seem to have gone too far to recover the love they once had, and when Caitlyn finds the courage to speak out, she brings all their worlds tumbling down.

Release date: July 28, 2016

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 320

Sample

Mistakes We Make

Jenny Harper

Sometimes you have to dig deep to discover what you really need.

Marketing events manager Molly Keir doesn’t realise how much she still cares for her ex until she meets him with another woman. Her answer is to seize the chance of a glittering job in London – even though this will mean leaving behind her aging father and pregnant best friend Lexie Gordon.

Adam Blair is in the wrong job. Pressured by his father to join the family law firm, the stress of work helped break his marriage. Now Molly is moving to London, and he knows he needs to move on – but events soon overtake his best intentions.

A year ago, Caitlyn Murray quit her well-paid job to avoid becoming a whistleblower. Now she is stuck at home with her overworked mother and four needy step-siblings. Tempted by the offer of a good wage, she returns to her old firm – where her nightmare comes back to haunt her.

Molly and Adam seem to have gone too far to recover the love they once had, and when Caitlyn finds the courage to speak out, she brings all their worlds tumbling down.

Acknowledgements

Some books are a joy to research, others prove more challenging. I have to confess that Mistakes We Make fell into the latter category – it proved extraordinarily difficult to persuade lawyers and accountants to describe a perfect fraud to me! One lawyer, after an hour of grilling, protested, ‘You’re making me think like a criminal.’ To the various people who did dream up potential scenarios for me, therefore, I am incredibly grateful. They know who they are.

On the plus side, I discovered that lawyers and accountants make excellent interviewees in terms of research – their information tends to emerge immaculately organised, if not in numbered lists with sub-points!

I am most grateful to Bob Brown and Leonard Mair for general information on how law firms operate, and to Donnie McGruther, who directed me to The Law Society of Scotland for information about what happens when possible criminal activity is reported or detected in a law firm. I am indebted to the Society’s Registrar, David Cullen, for outlining this process in detail.

As ever, my heartfelt thanks go to all those who support me and put up with me in my writing. They include my writing buddies Dianne and Jennifer and my long-suffering husband, Robin. I am eternally grateful also for the support of a wider community of writers, bloggers and reviewers – thanks to all of you. Writing would be a more difficult and a lonelier place without you.

And finally, thanks to the wonderful team at Accent Press, in particular Bethan James and my editor, Rebecca Lloyd. And – because I’m so thrilled with it – a special thanks to my cover designer!

Note on Hailesbank and The Heartlands

The small market town of Hailesbank is born of my imagination, as are the surrounding villages of Forgie and Stoneyford and the council housing estate known as Summerfield, which together form The Heartlands. I have placed the area, in my mind, to the east of Scotland’s capital city, Edinburgh.

The first mention of The Heartlands was made by Agrippus Centorius in AD77, not long after the Romans began their surge north in the hope of conquering this savage land. ‘This is a place of great beauty,’ wrote Agrippus, ‘and its wildness has clutched my heart.’ He makes several mentions thereafter of The Heartlands. There are still signs of Roman occupation in Hailesbank, which has great transport links to the south (and England) and the north, especially to Edinburgh, and its proximity to the sea and the (real) coastal town of Musselburgh made it a great place to settle. The Georgians and Victorians began to develop the small village, its clean air and glorious views, rich farming hinterland and great transport proving highly attractive.

The River Hailes flows through the town. There is a Hailes Castle in East Lothian (it has not yet featured in my novels), but it sits on the Tyne.

Hailesbank has a Town Hall and a high street, from which a number of ancient small lanes, or vennels, run down to the river, which once was the lifeblood of the town.

In my novels, characters populate the shops, cafes and pubs in Hailesbank and the pretty adjoining village of Forgie, with Summerfield inhabitants providing another layer of social interaction.

JH

PART ONE

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Molly Keir always claimed that her success as an events manager was down to her passion for detail. Keeping control left little time for contemplation, and that suited Molly just fine – it was easier than thinking about the mistakes she’d made in her personal life.

Much easier.

In the middle of the Scottish Highlands, her mobile phone clamped to one ear, a large notebook open  on her lap, a pen in one hand and her black-rimmed  reading glasses perched on her nose, she was  oblivious to the glories of the afternoon sunlight on the hills on either side of the car. Instead of connecting with the world around her, she was doing what she did best – organising a universe of her own construction.

‘I’ll do my best on the peonies, Miss di Constanza,’ she said brightly, ‘but the florist is telling me that peonies are out of season now and ... No, I understand. I’m sure we can source them from somewhere, but they will have to be imported and I know you like to support local suppliers ... Yes, yes, of course.’

She turned to Lexie Gordon, who was driving, wrinkled her nose expressively, then carried on without missing a beat.

‘It’s all under control, Miss di Constanza, I promise you. Yes, I will be away this weekend, but I have my phone with me, and you can always reach me. Everything is in place, you have my personal guarantee. ... Thank you. ... Yes, indeed. Goodbye. Yes, goodbye.’

‘She seems quite demanding,’ said Lexie, glancing across at her.

Molly shrugged. ‘She’s a prestigious client. Her lingerie collection is big business and this is the second launch she’s done at Fleming House. It’s a great name to have on our credentials so I can’t afford to offend her. Lexie! Stop!’

‘What the—?’ Lexie stamped on the brake and they stopped a few inches from the rear of the campervan they’d been tailing.

The traffic heading west had been quite light. They’d just threaded their way through a small hamlet where the biggest building was a café that catered for passing tour buses. All around them were rolling hills, heather and bracken – but now they’d run slap bang into a long queue of traffic.

‘Phew. That was close. You OK?’ Molly asked.

Lexie laid a hand on her swollen belly. ‘Fine.’

‘What’s causing the hold up?’

‘I think there are roadworks somewhere.’ Lexie craned her neck. ‘I can see some lights ahead. We’ll be through in a minute.’

Molly’s phone rang again. She glanced at the screen and groaned. ‘It’s Jonquil Prosser.’

‘Bridezilla?’

‘Worse. Her mother.’

She switched into professional mode. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Prosser, what can I do for you today?’

‘Patience of a saint,’ Lexie hissed, slipping the car into gear and inching forward as the traffic began to move.

Ahead, a large sign announced Road Closed. Local Access Only. Diversion.

‘Damn, it’s sending us left,’ Lexie said as Molly stopped talking abruptly.

‘Is that bad? I’ve lost the signal,’ she said, jabbing at her phone.

‘It’s a long diversion,’ Lexie said, swinging on to a minor road with the rest of the traffic.

‘You all right with driving? I know you hate it but I’ve got some more calls to make.’

‘You’re meant to be on a weekend off, Moll.’

‘I know, I know! I just need to ... Still no signal.’ She opened her notebook again. ‘Peonies,’ she muttered, scribbling an addition. ‘Thrones—’

‘Thrones?’ Lexie said, slowing to a crawl to take a bend. Behind her, someone tooted impatiently.

‘That’s what Jonquil Prosser was on about, before I lost her. Apparently, Ellen and Rob want thrones in the ballroom.’

Lexie snorted. ‘Jonquil wants thrones, more like. Where are you going to get them?’

Molly added to her list. ‘I’ll have to hire them in. I bet one of the theatres in Edinburgh will have some in store somewhere. Bother, there’s still no signal.’

‘Your phone’s trying to tell you something,’ Lexie said, laughing. ‘Come on, put it away. This is a holiday.’

‘You’re right. I can’t do anything at the moment anyway; it looks as though we’re in a dead area. I’ll have to get hold of Logan at some point though. He’s not answering his phone. I swear he sees my number and presses decline. Hey,’ her face lit up, ‘maybe I should get you to call him. You two have always got on well.’

She indicated left to signal the impatient car to overtake. It shot past in a blur of silver.

‘Asshole. How far ahead does he think he can get? Anyway, what would I be calling Logan about?’

‘I dunno. Some painting you want him to buy, maybe?’

Lexie snorted. ‘Forget it, Moll, it isn’t going to work. Just keep trying. He’s probably busy.’

‘He’s always busy. I don’t know how Adrienne stands it. Those boys must wonder who the strange man is when he actually does show up for supper.’

‘Well, you can call him from the hotel.’

‘Still not telling me where we’re going?’

True to form, Molly had been reluctant when Lexie had announced she was taking her away for a weekend. ‘I’ve got so much to do. Where were you thinking of, anyway?’

‘Secret. And if you don’t come, you’ll never know. Come on, my treat. Patrick’s in Madrid this weekend to sign the lease on his new art gallery, and it’ll probably be our last chance for a girlie weekend before baby arrives.’

It was true. Once the Mulgrew-Gordon baby was here, their lives would be very different.

Lexie let another car pass, then glanced at Molly and grinned. ‘You can call Logan from Loch Melfort.’

‘Loch Melfort! You’re joking.’

Lexie looked smug. ‘I know you love it.’

Loch Melfort ... A glorious autumn day on the west coast of Scotland. The sun baking their arms and sneaking between the hairs on their heads to scorch their scalps. A pair of golden eagles soaring in the endless skies above, her man beside her and the bliss of new love requited. His hands cupping her face and his kiss, gentle at first, then unrestrained. She could remember how that kiss had ended up – naughty and naked and very, very nice on a bed of scratchy heather under the open skies.

She hadn’t been back there in an age. It was beautiful – but it was his special place. Could she stand being there without him?

Molly sank back on her seat and closed her eyes. So much had happened in the past three years. It had started with the gradual degeneration of her marriage, which had led to her brief, passionate affair with Lexie’s brother Jamie, and had ended – tragically – with Jamie’s death in a car accident. She’d given up her fast-moving career in marketing and beaten a retreat to Fleming House, where she’d hidden away and paid penance by working herself half to death for a fraction of her old salary.

Lexie had been through bad times too, but she had grabbed hold of all the difficult things in her life, shaken them to destruction and moved on. Whereas Molly – what had she done? Merely allowed herself to get stuck in a rut. It had to stop – and maybe this weekend away would be the perfect time to take stock.

‘You may be a bit crazy, Lexie Gordon,’ she said, yawning, ‘but I think you have something of the genius in you.’

And as Lexie settled into a steady crawl through the spectacular scenery, Molly did something rare. She nodded off to sleep.

Adam Blair wasn’t quite sure when or how he’d agreed to come away with Sunita Ghosh for what she called ‘special together time’, but here he was in the car, half way to the west Highlands. He had only been dating Sunita for four months, and even that had been something of a surprise.

It was six o’clock already, they’d just passed Dalmally, and now they were sitting at a red light in the middle of nowhere. Ahead, he could see a large notice saying Local Access Only, and a large Diversion sign pointing left.

‘I’m tempted to risk it,’ he said, glancing at his companion.

‘Best not,’ she said passively.

‘If the locals can get through, why can’t we?’

‘Maybe it’s closed further along.’

‘Then how can anyone get to Oban, for heaven’s sake?’

‘They wouldn’t put a sign there if it wasn’t necessary,’ Sunita pointed out reasonably.

They passed through the lights and reached the point of no return. Adam swung the wheel to the left with considerable reluctance.

‘I know this road. This is going to add fifty miles. We’ll be late for dinner.’

‘Chill, Adam. It’s our holiday.’

They were heading to the Loch Melfort Hotel, south of Oban, which was the only reason Adam had agreed to come. His parents used to bring him here when he was a child. They all used to come together, his family, Uncle Geordie, Auntie Jean and his cousin, Hugh. He’d brought his wife here on their first anniversary.

God, she’d loved it. He’d known she would; she was drawn to the outdoors, just as he was. She loved climbing the Scottish mountains – and not just to please him. She was like a mountain goat, lean and lithe, her long legs taking the steep slopes with easy agility.

He pursed his lips, thinking that he should not have accepted Sunita’s invitation. It was too early in their relationship to spend a weekend together – but when she’d mentioned Loch Melfort, he’d wavered. It had been too tempting. Something deep in his psyche had yearned for the familiar beauty of the place.

A thought struck him and he glanced across at her again.

‘Why did you pick this hotel, Sunita?’

Sunita’s long black hair always seemed to shine, but in the low rays of the evening sun it had a particular gloss, almost purple, like a raven’s wing. She turned her face towards him, her coal black eyes radiating innocence.

‘They were offering a great deal.’

She looked away again, her lips curved into a quiet smile.

Adam’s suspicions crystallised. He must have mentioned the hotel at some time, and Sunita had turned the information into a lure. She was a clever, clever woman.

It wasn’t that he was reluctant, he told himself, not really. Sunita was beautiful, smart and pleasant company. He lifted one hand off the steering wheel and scratched the top of his head. His thick brown hair stood up in protest.

It was a relationship with definite promise. Her cooking was sublime, she was a goddess in bed, they had a great deal in common. Well, some things in common. They both liked cinema and – he searched his mind – curry.

‘I’ll call and tell them we might be late. I’m sure there’ll be lots of people with the same problem.’ Sunita leaned forward and retrieved her handbag from the footwell. Neat brown fingers tapped in a number, the burgundy-painted nails immaculate. How did she keep them like that? So sleek.

‘You might not get a signal,’ he warned. ‘It’s really poor in this area.’

Maddeningly, she was already talking. ‘It’s fine,’ she said, slipping her phone back into her bag, ‘other guests have been caught in the traffic too. There’s not a problem.’

Adam focused his mind on the hotel. Forget the diversion, forget Sunita’s astonishing competence. In less than an hour he’d be slouching comfortably on one of the luxurious sofas, holding a large glass of fine wine. A weekend in a beautiful retreat like the Loch Melfort Hotel was exactly what he needed – why had he been so resistant to the idea?

‘This is where we turn right.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Slow down, Adam, this is where we turn right.’

He saw the junction up ahead and eased off the accelerator.

‘You’ve been in a dream.’

‘Have I?’ He came to a halt behind the short queue of cars waiting to pull on to the main road north, reached across for her hand and squeezed her fingers. ‘Sorry. We should be there in less than half an hour.’

‘Good. I’m getting hungry. I can’t wait to try this fantastic food you’ve told me about. You?’

‘Definitely.’

Adam smiled at her. It was going to be all right. She was a pleasant companion. And he owed her some time.

Molly, sitting on the padded window seat in the lounge at the Loch Melfort Hotel, lifted her glass up to the light. Through the liquid, the view was ruby-tinted and glorious. The field that rolled down to the loch was home to half a dozen stocky Highland cattle with heavy fringes and jaunty horns, for all the world like Viking invaders. One lifted his head and seemed to stare right at her, placid but immoveable.

She laughed. ‘That beast’s got the right idea. Look the world in the eye and don’t let anything shake you. Cheers, mate.’ She raised the glass to the hairy animal, who stared back imperturbably.

The loch stretched to the horizon, blue as the sky, its stillness turning it into a mirror. Molly grinned. ‘I feel like being a bit bonkers tonight. I’ve escaped! I’m free! For a whole weekend!’ She took a deep draught from her glass and felt the wine course down, its effect as calming as the scenery. ‘You were so right to drag me away, Lex. This is bliss.’

‘Sorry to interrupt.’ A waitress had arrived, unnoticed, beside them. ‘I’m Kenna. Are you eating with us tonight?’

‘You bet,’ Lexie said, reaching for the heavy leather bound menus Kenna was holding. ‘I haven’t been able to think of anything else for the last hour and a half.’

‘We were hoping we wouldn’t be too late,’ Molly said. ‘There was a diversion. The road between Dalmally and Oban is blocked for some reason.’

‘They’re doing major roadworks. I’m really sorry.’ Kenna smiled apologetically, as though the fault was all hers. ‘It’s been going on for weeks. Everyone’s hopping mad – they always seem to start them at the height of the tourist season. Don’t worry about it – we’re still expecting guests; loads of people have been delayed. Kitchen’s all organised. I’ll leave you with these. Give me a shout when you’re ready.’

‘Thanks.’

Molly rummaged in her handbag and extracted her glasses. ‘Yum, this looks amazing. Scallops, black pudding, gravadlax, sole paupiettes. Wow. I didn’t realise how ravenous I was till I started reading!’

Lexie whispered, ‘Molly.’

‘Mmm? What do you think about beef?’

‘Molly.’

Molly looked up at the note of urgency. ‘What?’

Lexie’s face had turned an odd shade, and her brown eyes had a panicky look about them. She was staring over Molly’s shoulder at the doorway.

Molly shoved her glasses onto the top of her head and swung round. A woman was walking into the room. She was Asian – Indian, perhaps? – and classically beautiful. Her hair fell in thick, shiny tresses halfway down her back, her eyes were dark as treacle and dramatically outlined in black. She was wearing scarlet. Afterwards, that was what Molly remembered most – the stunning silky dress, hugging a perfect figure.

For now, the dress and the woman faded improbably into the background because there was a man behind her. Not just any man – Adam Blair.

Molly’s husband.

––––––––

Molly leapt up; the menu dropped from her fingers onto the table and sent her wine flying. Half of the contents landed in Lexie’s lap, half on the carpet.

‘Moll!’ Lexie shrieked, staring as the blood-red liquid spread across her vintage cotton dress.

Kenna grabbed a cloth from the bar. ‘I’ll deal with this, don’t worry, there’s no real damage—’

Molly was oblivious to it all. She only had eyes for Adam, whose attention had been attracted by the commotion and who was now staring in her direction with his mouth wide open.

‘Jeez, Moll!’ Lexie hissed.

‘It’s Adam!’

‘That’s what I was trying to tell you.’

‘He’s seen us!’

‘Well, that’s hardly surprising, is it?’

Kenna said, ‘If you’d like to change and give me your dress, I think I can get the stain out.’ Lexie didn’t move. ‘If we deal with it quickly?’

Molly said, ‘We’ve got to go.’

‘Go? Go where?’

‘We’ll have to go home. We can’t stay here.’

‘Don’t be silly, Moll. Let’s be mature about this. Anyway, we were here first.’

‘Who is she? I didn’t know he was seeing anyone. He never said anything about seeing anyone.’

‘Ask him. He’s coming over.’

‘Shit!’

Molly whirled round and made for the only other door, while behind her, Lexie hovered uncertainly, hampered by her pregnancy. She made it up to their bedroom a minute after Molly.

‘We’ve got to get out of here.’ Her friend had begun yanking at her dress frantically.

‘Come on, Moll. It doesn’t matter, does it? I mean, we don’t have to see them or anything.’

‘See them?’ The dress finally yielded to Molly’s tugging and flew up over her head. She seized a pair of jeans off the bed and hauled them on. ‘In a place like this? Of course we’d see them, there’s nowhere to go except the gardens, or out for a walk.’

‘There’s Oban – it’s only a few miles up the road. And from there we can take the big ferry to Mull, or the little one to Kerrera. Or we could go the other way and explore Inveraray.’

‘Then come back here for dinner? Sit a few tables from them? Or even next to them? I couldn’t bear it. And what about breakfast?’

‘What’s really eating you, Moll? It’s hardly the first time you’ve met Adam since you split.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘It’s her, isn’t it? The woman?’

Molly zipped up her jeans and rammed her feet into a pair of trainers.

‘Come on, Lexie. It’s a long drive home, we’ve got to get going.’

Lexie flopped down on the other bed. ‘I’m not moving.’

Molly’s head appeared above the neck of a coral sweater. She pulled her long blonde hair free and flicked it back with her hands.

‘I can’t stay here.’

‘Let’s talk about it.’

‘No. Sorry. I know you’ve gone to a lot of trouble, but I mean it. I’m not staying here. If you won’t drive me, I’ll call a taxi.’

Lexie sighed. ‘Can’t the two of you behave in a civilised manner? It’s been two years, Molly, surely he’s entitled to a new relationship – or a dirty weekend, if that’s what it is?’ She frowned. ‘You’re not jealous, are you? I mean, to be fair, you did leave him because you were having an affair.’

Molly was stuffing clothes into a case. She swung round, a pair of trainers in her hands. She stared at Lexie. ‘I can’t believe you said that, Alexa Gordon. I was in love. With your brother.’

There was a moment of heavy silence before Lexie crumpled. ‘Sorry, Moll.’

‘No.’ Molly crossed the room and sat down beside Lexie. ‘I’m the one who’s sorry.’

Grief bursts its shackles without warning. Every time they thought they’d come to terms with what had happened, it reared up at them from another angle. Jamie Gordon’s tragic death had nearly destroyed Lexie, her parents, Molly – and its shadow still lay across them.

Lexie, her voice small, said, ‘I’ll pack.’

Molly nodded. ‘I appreciate it.’

They were unnaturally subdued as Molly, driving, turned the car north. ‘We can find a hotel in Oban, it’ll save us driving all the way home tonight. Anyway, I’m ravenous; we’ll need to eat.’

‘Fine.’

‘OK?’

‘Sure. Good thinking.’

‘It doesn’t have to ruin the whole weekend.’

‘No.’

‘We’re going to have a great time.’

‘Yes.’

Two miles up the road, a car flashed its lights at them.

‘What’s up with him?’

‘Maybe there’s a speed trap ahead.’

‘A speed trap? It’s impossible to do more than fifty on this road.’

Another car flashed as they rounded a bend and ran into yet another queue of traffic.

Molly braked sharply. ‘At least we know why they were warning us. I wonder what’s causing it.’

Minutes ticked by. The traffic didn’t move. Ahead, two or three cars performed U-turns and headed south. Lexie opened her door. ‘I’ll ask the car in front if they know.’

While Lexie got out, Molly picked apart her emotions. Lexie was right, there was no reason for her to react so strongly to Adam’s appearance. Their relationship wasn’t exactly cordial, but they’d learned to be polite. It had taken her a long time to get over Jamie Gordon’s death, but as the memories of the laughter and passion she’d shared with Lexie’s brother gradually faded, it had begun to dawn on her that she was in no great hurry to legalise the separation from Adam.

Lexie opened the door and poked her head in. ‘Apparently it’s a convoy of wind turbines. They . . .