Far from bringing him peace, Alex found that deciding to keep quiet meant sleep eluded him. Sophie had a long standing engagement on Sunday to go and see an old school friend, who had now moved to Oxford, so she’d kissed Alex goodbye early that morning and set off up the M5, knowing she wasn’t going to be back until quite late. As it was, there was an accident on the southbound motorway as Sophie was travelling home, so she didn’t get back to Little Somerby until nearly midnight. Alex, who she’d called when she’d pulled over at Leigh Delamere service station for a breather, had suggested they try to get a good night’s sleep alone, and catch up at work in the morning. Sophie, although missing his presence in her bed, had agreed. They’d both had far too little sleep lately, and one night apart wouldn’t hurt.
Alex had waited up until Sophie had texted him that she was home safely and then found himself unable to sleep anyway. Too much was going through his head: thoughts of Sophie, fallout from seeing Jack’s presence everywhere at the birthday commemoration, guilt at spending so much time in Little Somerby under false pretences, and a nagging sense that he needed to come clean with the woman he’d fallen in love with. Bleary eyed and unaccustomed to being so lethargic, the last thing Alex needed on Monday morning was to come face to face at the Carter’s Cider wrought iron gates with Mark bloody Simpson. Resolving to ignore him, Alex upped his pace. He was going to be late to work if he didn’t push it. He’d got up early to run but by the time he’d walked Barney, it was nearly eight o’clock, and he was due at work. As he drew closer, he saw the other man approaching him.
‘Snooping around again on Saturday night, were you?’ Mark called.
Shaking his head, ignoring Mark, he picked up his pace.
‘You can’t hide forever, you know. Why don’t you come clean, mate?’ Mark’s voice was like a hammer drill in Alex’s brain.
‘Can’t you take a hint?’ he muttered as Mark jogged to catch up with him.
‘Bet it’s great now you’ve conned your way into Carter’s.’ Mark was like a persistent mosquito, and Alex was definitely on the verge of swatting him if he got any closer. ‘I mean, this internship story is just what you needed to get in there, with them and with Sophie. You must be loving it.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Alex said, a fraction louder. ‘And I need to get to work.’
‘Not for much longer once everyone knows why you’re really here.’
Alex’s brain was too addled by lack of sleep to really process what Mark was saying. On a better day he’d have made up some polite excuse, but he was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. ‘Just leave me alone,’ he muttered.
‘What, don’t you want to discuss the fact that your connection to the Carters runs a bit deeper than wanting to grow apples? Come on, mate, you can tell me. Spit it out.’ Mark’s voice was dripping with false sincerity; a tone guaranteed to get on Alex’s nerves.
Alex’s patience finally ran out. ‘Just get the hell out of here, will you?’ he snapped as he walked through the gates.
Mark grabbed his arm, a look of understanding dawning on his features. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? Fuck me, until just now I wasn’t completely sure I’d heard right the other night, but I’m sure now.’
‘Sure about what?’ Alex was beyond angry; with Mark for pushing his luck, and with himself for bottling out of coming clean with Sophie and the rest of them. Whatever Mark had to say to him had better be worth his time, or he really would put the other man on his backside.
Mark grinned slowly, savagely, and Alex felt ice dripping down his spine. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t realise it before. Seeing you standing next to that photo of him on Saturday night. It was so obvious. You’re not taking the piss, are you? You really are Jack Carter’s son.’
Alex shook his head, stunned that someone as outwardly clueless as Mark should be the one who finally worked things out and blew his cover. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t I?’ Mark said, taking a step back from Alex’s immediate reach, just in case Alex did decide he wanted to deck him. ‘When I heard you in the museum on Saturday night it all fell into place. Jack was a naughty boy back in the day, wasn’t he?’
‘You’re talking bullshit,’ Alex replied, his mind racing.
‘No.’ Mark shook his head. ‘No, I’m right. You know I am. I’m surprised no one’s found you out before now. You’ve been here for weeks, sniffing around the Carters and their business, trying to find out about your dead daddy.’ He grinned maliciously. ‘And I suppose Sophie was just a pawn in your little game, was she? Someone to get information out of.’ He paused. ‘Or maybe she was just a fuck buddy to keep you warm at night?’
Alex’s temper snapped. He lunged forward, pushing Mark back against the railings of the cider farm’s open gate. Seeing the other man wince as the spokes winded him, he raised a fist. ‘You need to shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you.’
Mark, despite being several inches shorter than Alex, was unafraid. ‘Too close to home, was I? Come on, Alex; you know I’m right. Sophie was just a distraction for you. Well, you can leave her alone now. It’s about time she came back to me, anyway.’
‘What did you say?’ Alex’s fist trembled where it hovered in the air, waiting to strike.
Mark let the moment hang in the air before he spoke. ‘You stay away from Sophie, mate, or I will go to her and tell her why you’re really here in Little Somerby, and, if I know Sophie, she’ll kick your arse so hard, you’ll end up back in Canada without having to get on a fucking plane.’
Alex let his hand drop. ‘She won’t believe you.’
‘Oh, she will.’ Alex laughed humourlessly. ‘One close look at you and she’ll put it all together. You’re fucked, mate. And I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if Matthew or Jonathan Carter find out who you are, either.’
‘Find out what?’ At that moment, on his way to his office, Jonathan Carter appeared. Immediately clocking Alex’s fist in the air and Mark up against the gate, he asked, ‘What’s going on here?’
‘Nothing,’ Alex muttered, ashamed to have been caught out in such a loss of control. He dropped his arm and released his other hand from where it had balled in the collar of Mark’s grubby polo shirt.
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Mark panted, hauling himself off the gate. Feeling markedly more assured now that Alex had released him, and making the assumption that he’d have Jonathan as back up, whose morals used to be as shady as his sunglasses, he glanced back at Alex, who suddenly looked completely defeated. With a triumphant look in his eye, Mark turned back to Jonathan. ‘Mr Carter, I’d like to introduce you to your long lost brother.’