Free Party Games by Jo Carnegie Page A

inspected the label with a flourish. ‘And a fantastic year, 2001.’
    ‘Oh, Conrad,’ Dominique cooed. ‘You are knowledgeable.’ She turned her back on Vanessa, making her annoyance clear. ‘Tell me about the time you worked with Sir Michael Caine again, Conrad, I do love to hear it.’
    As Conrad starting waxing lyrical about his screen presence Vanessa gazed round the imposing dining room. What a beautiful, cold house this was. She foundherself thinking again about the mysterious Dylan Goldhawk. It was obvious he wasn’t coming back. Vanessa thought of Dylan’s kind smile and shimmery eyes and was shocked at how disappointed she felt.

Chapter 14
    Fleur and Robert Blackwater sat in silence at the kitchen table. She’d made them up a simple chicken salad, but neither seemed to have much appetite.
    ‘Come on, Dad, eat your greens or you’ll never grow,’ she said. It was a weak joke, but she was worried about how ill he was looking.
    He reached for his glass of beer instead. ‘Concentrate on your plate and I’ll concentrate on mine.’
    A few painful moments dragged past. Mustering up a smile, she tried again.
    ‘I saw Ginny Chamberlain in town earlier. Loads of people are going to the meeting at county hall.’
    ‘Can’t say I see the point.’
    ‘Dad, if this theme park goes ahead, it’s really going to affect us!’
    ‘We’re fighting a losing battle up here anyway.’
    ‘That’s not true.’
    He laughed unhappily. ‘Wish I shared your optimism, lass.’
    She wanted to reach across the table and shake him.She wanted to throw the stupid beer bottle against the wall and tell him she couldn’t do this all by herself. Instead she sat there and held her tongue.
    The dogs started barking outside, signalling they had visitors. Robert frowned and checked his wristwatch. ‘Who’s this?’ They didn’t get many people dropping in these days.
    A silver Citroën bumped cautiously into the yard. A man in a smart suit was behind the wheel. From the vehicle’s pristine appearance, it was clear the driver wasn’t someone who had much to do with farming.
    Tinker and Bess were still barking, straining at their chains. The man sat behind the wheel looking nervous.
    ‘He must be lost,’ Fleur said. ‘I’ll go and see.’
    ‘He’s not lost.’ Robert’s ruddy cheeks had drained of colour. ‘That’s our bank manager.’
    Herbert Stanley perched awkwardly on the chair looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His glossy black briefcase was on the seat next to him.
    ‘Robert, you haven’t returned any of my calls.’
    Fleur’s dad crossed his arms and glowered.
    ‘I’ve also written several times,’ Mr Stanley ventured.
    ‘I haven’t got time to go through correspondence!’ Robert growled.
    An embarrassed silence fell over the room. Fleur studied her dirty fingernails. Why had their bank manager driven out here to see them? Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good.
    Eventually she heard Mr Stanley sigh. ‘Look, Robert, I’ve known your family a long time now. I know howdifficult things are, but we have to come to some arrangement. I’ve been prepared to use my discretion on this, but I can only go so far.’ He sat up, and got down to business. ‘You have to start paying the loan back, Robert.’
    Fleur’s head snapped up. ‘What loan?’
    Mr Stanley looked at her uncertainly. ‘The loan you’ve taken out against the farm.’
    What loan? ‘How much for?’ she asked, trying to sound calm.
    ‘With interest, the current amount is,’ Mr Stanley shuffled through his paperwork as a formality, ‘three hundred thousand and twelve pounds and seventy-nine pence.’
    The numbers fluttered meaninglessly in Fleur’s ears, coming to settle like a pinball machine. ‘Three hundred thousand?’ she gasped. ‘We haven’t got that kind of …’
    ‘Be quiet, Fleur!’ her dad shouted.
    Mr Stanley looked extremely uncomfortable. ‘If you don’t meet your side of the arrangement, the bank will