Читать книгу The Pregnancy Affair - Anne Mather - Страница 8

FORTUNATELY, Olivia was saved the need of answering him. They’d reached Bridgeford and the Lexus splashed through the ford at the edge of the village before accelerating up the slope to the village green. She could pretend she hadn’t heard him, pretend she hadn’t been knocked off balance by the callousness of his words. Struggling with emotions she didn’t even want to acknowledge, she looked instead at the Georgian homes and the handful of cottages that circled the village green. As a shiver of remembered agony slid down her spine, the beauty of her surroundings was a blessed panacea.

The village, at least, didn’t seem to have changed much, she thought gratefully, although she could see the roofs of some new houses just visible beyond the trees in the churchyard. There were daffodils blooming here, too, and the almond blossom was just beginning to appear.

‘Do your parents still live in the village?’ she asked a little stiffly, feeling obliged to say something. The Armstrongs had never approved of Joel’s relationship with her, and even after they were married Olivia had been left in no doubt that Mrs Armstrong didn’t consider her good enough for her son.

‘My father’s retired now,’ replied Joel amiably enough. Mr Armstrong was an accountant and had used to work for a firm in Chevingham, a small town some ten miles south of Bridgeford. ‘They still own the house in Blades Lane,’ he added, ‘but they’ve recently bought a place in Spain. They spend a lot of time there in the winter months. They’re in El Fuente at present, actually.’

Which explained a lot, thought Olivia cynically. She wondered if Joel would have been so willing to come and meet her if he’d had to explain himself to his parents first.

They passed the house Joel’s parents owned on their way to the farm. Rose Cottage was set a few yards back from the road, screened by a tangle of wild roses that blossomed profusely in the season.

It reminded Olivia irresistibly of when she and Joel were teenagers. How many times had she come running down from the farm to find him waiting for her at his gate? They’d both attended the comprehensive school in Chevingham and the school bus used to pick them up at the end of Blades Lane.

Of course, Joel had been a year older, and once they’d got to school there’d been no opportunity to be together. Was that why their relationship had progressed so swiftly? she wondered. Had the excitement of forbidden fruit coloured that youthful infatuation?

‘Does everything look the same?’ Joel asked abruptly, and Olivia was grateful for the reprieve. She’d been in danger of remembering things that were best forgotten. As Joel said, they’d both moved on.

‘Pretty much,’ she said after a moment, forcing herself to take an interest in her surroundings. They were turning between white-painted gateposts now, crossing a cattle-grid that caused the vehicle’s wheels to vibrate, and then accelerating up the drive to the farmhouse itself.

When the Lexus stopped, Olivia knew the journey was over. However, she felt—and she really wasn’t feeling very good—she had to get out of the car and face whatever was to come. It would have been nice, she thought, if her father had invited her here. But it was Linda who’d suggested this visit. Linda, who’d told her so little of what to expect.

‘You OK?’

She realised that Joel was looking at her now, probably wondering why she hadn’t opened her door. And, dammit, she so didn’t want to show him how she was feeling. Joel, with his new career and his precious son.

So, ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ she answered, with assumed lightness. She gathered her handbag into her arms and reached for the door handle. ‘Thanks for the ride, Joel. It’s been—illuminating.’

Now, why had she said that? she chided herself impatiently, as Joel’s eyes narrowed on her face. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re mad at me?’ he countered, but before Olivia could say anything else, Linda came out of the house.

At once, Olivia fumbled with the door catch, as eager to get away from Joel as she was to greet her sister. But she was all thumbs and, without asking her permission, Joel leant past her and thrust the door open for her, the hard strength of his forearm pressing briefly against her breasts.

She scrambled out then, dropping down from the high seat, almost ricking her ankle in her haste to get away from him. Steadying herself against the wing, she mentally squared her shoulders before starting a little uncertainly across the forecourt.

‘Hi, Linda,’ she said, in what she hoped was a confident tone. ‘It’s good to see you.’

Her sister shook her head and Olivia was surprised to see tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, Livvy, it’s good to see you, too,’ she exclaimed eagerly and, opening her arms, she gathered the other girl into a welcoming hug.

Olivia was shocked. She hadn’t expected such a warm greeting. Linda had never been a touchy-feely kind of person and when they were younger any contact between them had always been initiated by Olivia herself.

But evidently the years had mellowed her, and when she drew back she regarded Olivia with what appeared to be genuine affection. ‘I’m so pleased you decided to come,’ she said. ‘This is still your home, you know.’

Olivia was trying to absorb this when Linda’s eyes moved beyond her to where Joel was standing beside the Lexus. ‘Thanks, Joel,’ she added. ‘We owe you, big time.’ She paused. ‘You’ll come in and see Dad, won’t you?’

‘Not right now,’ said Joel, opening the back of the car and hauling out Olivia’s suitcase. ‘I’ve got a tutorial at four o’clock, I’m afraid.’

A tutorial!

So he was a lecturer, no less. If Olivia was surprised, Linda clearly wasn’t, going to take charge of Olivia’s luggage without further argument. ‘Well, come back soon,’ she said, as he climbed back into the vehicle. ‘Just because Livvy’s here, you don’t have to be a stranger.’

‘Yeah, right.’

If Joel’s response was less enthusiastic, Linda didn’t seem to notice it, and, with an inclination of his head towards Olivia, he reversed the car across the yard. Still cringing from the childish name her sister had always called her, Olivia was motionless, and it wasn’t until he’d driven away that she realised she hadn’t even waved goodbye.

Pulling herself together, she went to rescue her suitcase from her sister. ‘I can take that,’ she said, but Linda wouldn’t let it go.

‘In those heels?’ she asked, with just a trace of the animosity that had blighted Olivia’s childhood after their mother died. ‘No, I can manage. Come along. I’ve warned Dad to expect you.’

‘You didn’t warn me that he’d had a stroke,’ ventured Olivia as she climbed the shallow steps after her, and Linda’s back stiffened in what might have been resentment.

‘I thought it was wiser,’ she said as they entered the square hall of the farmhouse. She set the suitcase down at the foot of the stairs and then went on, ‘You know how sensitive he’s always been about his health. And if he’d thought you were only coming here because he was ill…’

‘I suppose.’ Olivia shrugged, half understanding her reasoning. ‘So how is he? Joel said very little.’

‘Oh, he’s improving every day,’ Linda assured her. ‘But you’ll soon see for yourself.’ She paused. ‘You, on the other hand, look half-starved. I suppose you’re on one of those fancy diets.’

Olivia caught her breath. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, wishing she dared say that obviously Linda didn’t worry about her weight.

‘Oh, well, you know best, I dare say,’ remarked Linda carelessly. ‘Come on. We’ll go and see Dad before I show you your room. His bed’s in the old morning room. It saves him having to climb the stairs. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve given you Mum’s old sewing room. Jayne and Andrew have our old rooms and Martin and I are sleeping in the main bedroom at present.’

Olivia nodded. She didn’t much care where she slept. She had the feeling she wouldn’t be staying very long. But she had forgotten about her niece and nephew, who’d been little more than babies when she’d left Bridgeford. Jayne must be eighteen now, with Andrew a year younger. Jayne was the same age as she’d been when she’d married Joel, she reflected incredulously.

‘So are the children in school?’ she asked as Linda led the way across the hall, and her sister turned to give her an old-fashioned look.

‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ she exclaimed. ‘Jayne works at a dress shop in Chevingham. She’s doing really well, actually. And Andy’s probably gone into Alnwick with his father. Martin said he needed to pick up a new rotor arm for the tractor.’

Olivia couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘I see.’

‘I suppose you think we should have encouraged them to continue their education as you did,’ went on Linda, a note of aggression in her voice now. ‘Well, it didn’t do you much good, did it? For all Dad scraped and saved to let you stay on at school, you just upped and married Joel Armstrong as soon as you were eighteen.’

Olivia was taken aback. She hadn’t known her father had had to scrape and save to let her stay on to take her A levels.

All the same…

‘In any case, we don’t have a lot of money to throw around, Livvy,’ Linda continued. ‘What with losing the cattle to foot-and-mouth, it’s been a struggle, I can tell you. We got some compensation from the government, but it’s never enough. That’s why Martin’s trying to persuade Dad to diversify—’

She broke off abruptly at that point and Olivia couldn’t decide whether Linda thought she’d said too much or because they were nearing her father’s door and she didn’t want him to hear what she was saying. Whatever, she lifted a finger to her lips before she turned the handle, putting her head around the door before advancing cheerfully into the room.

‘Dad,’ Olivia heard her say in a sing-song voice as she followed her in. ‘You’re awake. That’s good.’ She glanced behind her. ‘Livvy’s here.’

Her father made some kind of gruff response, but Olivia could barely hear it. However, when she managed to circle her sister’s bulk to see the man who was lying in an armchair by the windows, a rug covering his bony knees, she thought she could understand why. The stroke had evidently left one side of Ben Foley’s face paralysed and his hair was completely grey. When he spoke he did so with apparent difficulty.

‘Hi, Dad,’ she said, very conscious of Linda’s eyes watching her. She struggled to hide the shock she felt as she went closer and bent down to kiss his lined cheek. Then she forced a smile. ‘It’s been a long time.’

Ben Foley grunted. ‘Whose fault is that?’ he got out thickly, and she was relieved that she could understand him.

‘Mine, I guess,’ she said, although she doubted he would have welcomed her back any sooner. When she’d lost the baby her father, like Joel, hadn’t believed her explanation. And, when he’d heard she and Joel were splitting up, he’d told her to find somewhere else to live.

She wondered now if he’d have felt the same if he’d known Joel was going to leave the farm. They’d been sharing the house with her father and, although it wasn’t the best arrangement, it had been all they could afford at that time. Joel had already moved out of the house, but she guessed her father had hoped he’d come back after her departure. Perhaps he had, but not for long. It must have been a bitter pill for Ben Foley to swallow.

Trying to put the past behind her, she went on, ‘Well, I’m here now, Dad. So how are you feeling?’

‘How do I look?’ demanded her father, with a little of his old irascibility, and Linda bustled forward to lay a conciliatory hand on his shoulder.

‘Livvy’s only showing concern for your welfare,’ she said soothingly, but Olivia couldn’t help wishing she’d leave them alone. ‘Now, do you want some tea? I’ll make us all a cup while Livvy settles in.’

Ben Foley scowled. ‘I thought she’d come to see me,’ he muttered, giving his younger daughter a look from beneath a drooping eyelid.

‘I have,’ began Olivia, but once again Linda intervened.

‘You’ll have plenty of time to talk to Livvy later,’ she said firmly, tucking the rug more securely about him. ‘Come along,’ she added to her sister. ‘I’ll show you where you’re going to sleep.’

Joel slept badly and was up before seven the next morning, making himself a pot of coffee in the sleek modern kitchen of his house.

The house was large, but graceful, situated in a village just half a dozen miles from Bridgeford, where his ex-wife still lived. He’d bought it, ironically enough, after he and Louise had broken up. With four bedrooms and three bathrooms, it was really too big for his needs, but it meant Sean could come and stay whenever he liked.

He came fairly often, for weekends and holidays. Joel and Louise had had a fairly amicable divorce, both admitting they’d made a mistake in rushing into marriage. Louise had married again, and, although Joel wasn’t overly fond of her new partner, he had been forced to concede that Sean should make his permanent home with them.

Still wearing nothing but the cotton boxers he’d slept in, Joel moved to the kitchen window, staring out over the large garden that happily he employed a gardener to keep in order. An expanse of lawn, where he and Sean played football, stretched away to a hedge of conifers, and beyond the hedge there were fields where sheep and their newborn lambs grazed.

It was all very peaceful, but Joel felt anything but untroubled at the present time. The smooth tenor of his life had been disturbed, and no matter how often he told himself that Olivia’s return meant nothing to him, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

Seeing her again had definitely unsettled him. When he’d agreed to go and meet her, he’d anticipated coming away with a certain smug satisfaction that he’d done the right thing all those years ago. What he’d expected, he realised, was that the image he’d kept of her all this time would have been flawed by age and experience. But it wasn’t true. Instead, she was just as lovely, just as sexy, as he remembered.

Which annoyed the hell out of him. Dammit, just because she’d taken care of her appearance didn’t change the woman she was inside. The most beautiful creatures in the world could be deadly. Even so…

He scowled, rubbing his free hand over his jaw that was already rough with stubble. Then, swallowing a mouthful of his coffee, he turned away from the window and started towards the door. He needed a shave and a shower, not necessarily in that order. He’d probably feel better if he could look at himself without immediately noticing the bags beneath his eyes.

He’d made it as far as the stairs when the doorbell rang. He glanced at his wrist, realised he wasn’t wearing his watch, and cursed under his breath. What the hell time was it? Not later than seven-thirty, surely. It had to be the mail, but he wasn’t expecting any parcels as far as he knew.

He set his cup down on the second stair and trudged back to the door. The wooden floor was cold beneath his bare feet and he wished he’d stopped to put on a robe. But who knew he was going to have to face a visitor? he thought irritably. Particularly this morning, when he was feeling so bloody grumpy to begin with.

The door was solid oak so he couldn’t see who it was until he’d released the deadlock and swung it open. Then his eyes widened and he stared disbelievingly at the child who was standing outside.

‘Sean!’ he exclaimed blankly. But then, noticing that the boy was shivering, Joel hurriedly stepped back and invited him in. He closed the door as Sean moved inside, dropping a backpack he’d been carrying on the floor. His brows drew together. ‘How the hell did you get here?’

Sean shrugged. He was tall for his age, lean and wiry, with Joel’s dark hair and colouring and his mother’s blue eyes. He was approaching his eleventh birthday, and in recent months Joel had noticed he’d developed an increasingly stubborn attitude.

‘I caught the bus,’ he said at last, moving into the kitchen. ‘Got any cola?’

Joel paused in the doorway, watching as his son took a can of cola out of the fridge and flipped the tab. ‘There are no buses this early in the day,’ he said, as Sean swallowed thirstily. ‘Does your mother know you’re here?’

‘She will soon,’ said Sean, removing the can from his lips and glancing about him. ‘Can I have something to eat?’

Joel sucked in a breath. ‘What does that mean, exactly? She will soon.’ He repeated what his son had said. ‘Come on, you might as well tell me.’

Sean shrugged. ‘I’ve left home,’ he said, opening the fridge door again and pulling out a pack of bacon. ‘Can I make myself a sandwich? I’m really hungry.’

Joel stared at him. ‘Hold it,’ he said. ‘Before we go any further, I want you to explain how you got here and why your mother doesn’t know yet. Then I’ll ring her and put her mind at rest.’

‘I shouldn’t bother.’

Sean was fiddling with the plastic wrapper of the bacon but before he could go any further his father stepped forward and snatched it out of his hands. ‘Answers, Sean,’ he said. ‘Then we can talk about breakfast. Why are you shivering? For God’s sake, have you been out all night?’

‘No.’ Sean was indignant, but Joel didn’t believe him.

‘So where have you been?’ he demanded.

‘I can walk, you know.’ Sean hunched his shoulders. And then, seeing his father’s expression, ‘All right, I spent the night in the barn up the road.’ He grimaced as Joel showed his horror. ‘It wasn’t so bad. There was some straw in the loft and a horse blanket. It smelled a bit, but it wasn’t bad.’

Joel stared at him. ‘So how come your mother doesn’t know yet?’

‘How’d you think? She and the hulk went out last night and they don’t usually check on me when they come in.’

‘Don’t call Stewart “the hulk”,’ said Joel, though he had to admit Louise’s second husband did have a beer belly. ‘And what are you saying? That they went out and left you in the house on your own?’

‘Hey, I’m old enough,’ protested Sean, eyeing the bacon enviously. ‘Look, couldn’t we just have something to eat before you phone Mum?’

Joel hesitated, then he tossed the bacon back to him. ‘I’ll ring your mother,’ he said resignedly. ‘Don’t set the place on fire.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’ Sean grinned now. ‘D’you want some, too?’

His father shook his head. ‘I’m going to take a shower after I’ve made that call. If you’re cold, just adjust the thermostat on the Aga. You know how, don’t you?’

Receiving his son’s assurance that he did indeed know how to adjust the stove which heated the entire house, Joel went across the hall to the stairs again and rescued his coffee. As expected, it was cool now, but he intended to ring Louise before doing anything else. And from his bedroom. He had no intention of allowing Sean to listen in.

His ex-wife answered the phone with a note of irritation in her voice. ‘Yes?’ she said, and Joel guessed she’d probably had a late night. For the first time, he resented the fact that she and Stewart had custody of Sean. What kind of role models was he being faced with every day?

‘It’s me,’ he said abruptly. ‘Do you know where Sean is?’

‘Still in bed, I expect.’ Louise didn’t sound worried. ‘I’ve banged on his door and told him he won’t have time for any breakfast, but does he listen? No way. Anyway, if you want to speak to him, Joel, you’ll have to wait until tonight.’

The temptation to say ‘OK’ and ring off was appealing, but the last thing Joel needed was for Stewart Barlow to accuse him of kidnapping his son. ‘He’s not in bed, he’s here,’ he said, without preamble. ‘As you’d know, Louise, if you’d bothered to check on him last night.’

Louise was briefly silenced. She wasn’t used to Joel criticising her and he guessed she was wondering how to respond. ‘Are you saying he’s been with you since yesterday evening?’ she demanded, after a moment. ‘Don’t you think you should have taken the trouble to let me know before this?’

‘How do you know I didn’t ring last night?’ asked Joel flatly.

Another silence. Then, ‘So he has been with you all night? Oh, Joel—’

‘No.’ Joel interrupted her. ‘I was only making the point that you weren’t there, even if I had phoned.’ He sighed. ‘I thought children had to be at least thirteen before being left alone.’

Louise sighed. ‘We weren’t out for long—’

‘Even so…’

‘What’s he been telling you?’ She sounded suspicious now. ‘He can be a little monkey, you know.’

‘I know.’ Joel was reluctant, but he had to be honest. ‘As a matter of fact, he only arrived on my doorstep a few minutes ago.’

‘So where did he spend the night?’ She sounded worried now.

‘He says in a neighbour’s barn.’

‘My God!’ Louise was horrified. Then she hesitated. ‘So why didn’t he come to you last night?’

‘I’m afraid I was out, too,’ said Joel unwillingly. ‘I had a meeting at the college. I didn’t get back until late.’

‘So you weren’t part of the welcome-home committee for Olivia Foley?’ teased Louise, not without a touch of jealousy. ‘I expect you’ve heard she’s come back to see her father.’

Joel quelled his impatience. He had no desire to discuss Olivia’s return with his ex-wife. ‘If I’d known Sean was likely to turn up, I’d have been here,’ he retorted shortly. ‘And I don’t think you should have left him alone in the house.’

‘I don’t, usually.’ Louise was defensive. ‘But Stewart wanted to go out and I didn’t think there was any harm in it. We were only down the road, for goodness’ sake! If he’d needed anything, he had the pub’s number.’

‘Whatever.’ Joel wasn’t prepared to discuss it over the phone. ‘Look, I haven’t had time to talk to him yet. I need to find out why he decided to do a bunk. Give me the rest of the day, can you? I’ll give you a ring tonight.’

‘But what about school?’

‘He can take a day off, can’t he? It wouldn’t be the first time, I’m sure.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Joel backed off. ‘Come on, Louise. Give the kid a break.’

Louise was obviously not happy about the situation, but she decided not to be awkward. Perhaps she was afraid Joel might report her to the authorities. The custody order could be changed in his favour if he chose to complain.

‘Well, OK,’ she said at last. ‘But I think you should bring him home tonight.’

‘We’ll see.’

Joel didn’t argue, but he didn’t promise anything either. He still had to find out why Sean had chosen to run away.

Fortunately, he only had one tutorial this morning and he could take his son to the university with him. Sean could play on the computer in his office while he was in the lecture hall.

His coffee was cold now, and, putting it aside, he studied his reflection in the mirror above the bathroom basin. He didn’t look good, he thought ruefully. He looked as if it were him, and not Louise, who’d had a heavy night.

He wondered now why he’d married her in the first place. It wasn’t on the rebound. Well, not precisely, anyway. After Olivia left, he’d wasted no time before applying for a place at university, and the next four years had passed with the minimum amount of pain.

It wasn’t until he’d returned to Bridgeford that the whole sorry mess of his marriage to Olivia had come back to haunt him. Had he thought that marrying someone else and having a child would make him happy? It hadn’t, although the son they’d had meant everything to him. And he was determined to ensure that Sean didn’t suffer because of his mistakes.