The Lost Relic

Chapter Forty-Five

Vila Flor

Portugal

Brooke’s flight had been dead on time, and it was only 11.45 a.m. when her taxi rolled up to the end of the country lane that was as close as it was possible to get to her cottage by car. She got her luggage out of the back, paid the driver and watched the car turn round and disappear in a cloud of dust.

It felt immensely liberating to be here again. The heat was intense and dry, and the air was filled with the chirping of cicadas. She set off down the rambling, rocky path that wound through the trees, across a small valley where butterflies flitted in vast numbers, and up a gentle slope to the grassy mound where her little cottage glinted white in the sunshine. As she walked, she heard the puttering motor of a quad bike in the golden fields and saw the small, wiry figure of Fatima Azevedo riding along with her dog in pursuit. Brooke waved. Fatima and Luis were her nearest neighbours. Their little organic farm a quarter of a mile up the road produced fruit, herbs and a tiny yield of wine that they kept mainly for themselves and their friends. When Brooke was around, the warm-hearted couple would sometimes pop over to visit her with a bottle and a box of fresh eggs.

The rocky path turned to fine gravel on the approach to the cottage. The old stone finca nestled comfortably among sprawling wildflowers and shrubs. After Ben’s place in France, it was Brooke’s favourite place to be. So peaceful here. No noise, no aeroplanes roaring overhead every ninety seconds the way they did in Richmond. Nothing could disturb it. Apart from the growth of the shrubbery, it looked exactly as it had last time she’d been here.

With Ben, she remembered with a smile. It had been the end of June, just a couple of weeks after their long-standing close friendship had developed into the full-blown relationship she’d secretly dreamed of for longer than she liked to admit. It had been a wonderful few days here together. They’d eaten out on the little terrace every day, and gone for long walks together through the surrounding woodland. No worries, no distractions, just their love and laughter. Ben had seemed so happy, happier than she’d ever known him.

She wished he were here with her now. Wondered what he was doing at that moment, and whether he’d got her message. She couldn’t wait to see him again. It was all the more infuriating that Marshall’s behaviour was forcing her to run and hide like this. She could only hope that a few days’ absence would help to cool him down and make the man come to his senses.

Fat chance.

No way was she going to let her troubles spoil the moment, though. An ancient dry-stone wall ran up the side of the path leading up towards the front door. Brooke paused to reach her fingers into the gap between two of the warm stones, where she kept the front door key. She unlocked the door and felt a surge of relief as she stepped inside the cool, fragrant hallway.