Finders Keepers Edie Baylis (phonics readers .TXT) 📖

stopped by an usher. ‘Please sit up at the front, Miss,’ the man said quietly, placing a hand gently on Teagan’s arm. ‘Mrs Adams has requested you take your place with the family.’

Flustered, Teagan hurried back to the front, conscious the softly piped music had stopped and was eager to be seated before the service started.

Sitting down, refusing to dwell that she was ushered to sit next to Robert, Teagan swallowed nervously and fixed her gaze on the statue of Jesus on the altar. The organ cranked up, blasting the intro of the first hymn and along with everyone else she stood, leaning to pick up her order of service, her hand accidentally brushing against Robert’s leg.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered, glancing at him. Catching Dulcie looking, Teagan smiled sympathetically, but was shocked by the glimpse she caught behind her eyes. It was almost... almost venomous.

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Teagan fumbled with the order of service searching for the words for the hymn and cleared her throat ready to sing.

HEATH ARRIVED LATE AT THE CHURCH. The traffic out of London hadn’t been kind this morning and the service had been well underway by the time he’d slipped into the church.

He’d wanted to arrive early so that Teagan would see him when she arrived. He’d planned on sitting with her, using the opportunity of offering well-timed sympathy to glean much needed brownie points. He understood she must be hacked off with him for not hanging around the last time she’d seen him, but getting her back on side was the only way to discover what was going on. If he hadn’t spotted the obituary notice then he’d have missed a prime opportunity.

At least he was here now and that was the main thing.

Miming the words to the hymn, Heath glanced around the church. Where was Teagan? He couldn’t see her anywhere, but he had spotted Ms Botox.

The woman with the surgically frozen face he’d first met in Shepherd, Percival and Proctor last month sat on the adjacent row of pews. Being as she was staring right at him, she’d spotted him too, probably wondering why the random person who had wandered into the estate agents about a house he’d never moved forward with, was doing here. She could surmise what she liked. Her opinion was of no interest. He was here for one thing and one thing alone.

When the hymn finished, Heath sat back down and patiently listened to the vicar closing the service. It was only when Helen’s coffin was carried out, followed by the immediate family, did he finally spot Teagan. His eyes immediately tracked to the big man walking next to her – the one who had rushed up to her on the pavement that night.

Heath shuddered. Getting a much better look than he’d managed to do the night of all the trouble, Heath was unnerved just how similar the man was to his father – a menacing, bigger version.

Heath nodded respectfully seeing Dulcie falter ever so slightly when her piercing blue eyes spotted him and ignored the glare he received from the son, but when Teagan clocked his presence, her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. She slowed down almost to a stop, only continuing to move forward when the son put his hand on the small of her back, propelling her forward.

Heath smiled. Now Teagan had seen him all he had to do was allow the graveside formalities to take place and then he’d talk to her. He had every intention of inviting himself to the wake and since he was here she could hardly ignore him.

Getting much needed information from Teagan was worth putting up with Ms Botox and Dulcie Adams’ creepy staring tactics.

JONAH WAS STILL STEAMING that he was yet to catch up with Saul. The man, clearly guilty as sin over Lena had been keeping his distance from the Feathers. Jonah had even tried calling him at home only to get no answer.

Oh, Saul knew what he’d done alright and knew the shit would invariably hit the fan, but evading the confrontation only made it worse.

Jonah frowned. He would have driven round Saul’s house himself if it hadn’t been for Lena. When he’d mentioned he was going, she’d become tearful, begging him not to go. Usually, that would have irritated him no end and he’d have gone regardless, but now things were different.

His usually hard expression softened, picturing Lena in the chair looking ever so slightly vulnerable, her eyes dewy with unshed tears; one hand cradling the little bump. His baby.

Lena’s developing pregnancy was changing her – not just physically, but mentally too. Her usual brash, demanding nature had been replaced by a different, more vulnerable and quite frankly, nicer side of her – one that made him want to protect her. It was a strange turning point. Apart from lust, Jonah never thought he’d feel anything other than irritation for the woman, but now he was starting to feel something. Something different... Protective.

The downside was that she’d gone off sex, which was frustrating, especially when all he wanted to do was run his hands over her changing body and feel what he’d created inside her. But she wouldn’t let him anywhere near her.

Remembering Gwen was sitting in his office with the figures from the night of the function for him to look over, Jonah snapped himself from his daydream. ‘I must say, I’m pleased with this. Lena’s done a very good job,’ he said, his eyes running over the list of numbers.

‘I too was pleasantly surprised,’ Gwen admitted. ‘You’ll also be pleased with the amount deposited by OK magazine for the exclusive use of photographs from the event. That was also something Lena negotiated.’

Jonah raised his eyebrows as he took the print-out of the company bank statement. Truth be told, Lena was doing a lot better in her new role than he’d expected. She’d embraced the work, was improving the takings, had organised her first event both effectively and profitably