Читать книгу Wealthy Australian, Secret Son - Margaret Way - Страница 9

Rohan Costello had returned to the scene of his childhood devastation. That showed passion and courage. It also showed that the cleverest boy in the Valley had become extraordinarily successful in life. Matthew Marsdon’s tragic death had locked the daughter, Charlotte, and Costello even more closely together. Eventually they’d gone beyond the boundaries, but that had never been known, or if suspected never proved. What was known was that the Tragedy had never driven them apart—even when Charlotte’s parents, in particular her mother Barbara, had burned with something approaching hatred for the boy she had in a way helped nurture.

There had only been one course left to the Costellos. Mother and son had been virtually driven out of the Valley, the sheer weight of condemnation too great.

The brutality of it!

People could only wonder if Rohan Costello had returned to Silver Valley to settle old scores? The past was never as far away as people liked to pretend.

Charlotte’s faint lasted only seconds, but when she was out of it and the world had stopped spinning she was still in a state of shock, her body trembling with nerves. She was lying on one of the long sofas in the drawing room, her head and her feet resting on a pile of silk cushions. Her hair had all but fallen out of its elegant arrangement. She was minus her hat and, she noted dazedly, her expensive sandals.

Rohan was at her head. Christopher was at her feet. Diane Rodgers and a couple of her mother’s old friends stood close by. Her mother’s friends’ watching faces were showing their concern. Not so Ms Rodgers, whose almond eyes were narrow. There was no sign of her father, but George Morrissey, their family doctor, hurried in, calling as he came, “Charlie, dear, whatever happened?”

Morrissey had brought the Marsdon children into the world, and Charlotte had always been a great favourite.

“How are you feeling now?” He sat down beside her to take her pulse. A few more checks, and then, satisfied there was nothing serious about the faint, he raised her up gently, while Rohan Costello, the new owner, resettled the cushions as a prop at her back.

“The heat, George,” she explained, not daring to look up at Rohan, who had so stunningly re-entered her life. What she wanted to do was seize hold of her little son and run for her life. Except there was no escape. Not now. “I must be going soft.”

“That’ll be the day!” the doctor scoffed.

“Mummy?” Christopher’s lovely olive skin had turned paper-white. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, darling.” She held out a reassuring hand. “Come here to me.” She tried hard to inject brightness into her voice. “I love you, Chrissie.”

“Mummy, I love you too. You’ve never fainted before.” He clutched her hand, staring anxiously into her face.

“I’m fine now, sweetheart. Just a little dizzy.” She drew him down onto the spot Dr Morrissey had readily vacated, putting a soothing arm around him and dropping a kiss on the top of his golden head. “I’ll get up in a minute.”

“Give it a little longer, Charlie,” Morrissey advised, happy to see her natural colour returning. He very much suspected extreme shock was the cause of Charlotte’s faint. Incredible to think young Costello had become so successful. Then again, not. Rohan Costello had been an exceptionally bright lad.

“This is a surprise, Rohan,” he said, turning to hold out his hand.

Rohan Costello took it in a firm grip. The doctor could hardly say, given the circumstances of Rohan Costello’s departure, Welcome back to Silver Valley!

“It’s good to see you again, Dr Morrissey,” Rohan answered smoothly. “You were always kind to my mother and me.”

“You were both very easy to be kind to, Rohan,” Morrissey assured him with genuine warmth. “And how is your mother?”

“She’s doing very well, sir,” Rohan responded pleasantly, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to be more forthcoming.

“Good, good! I’m very glad to hear it. Do you intend to spend much time in the Valley, Rohan?” Morrissey dared to ask. “You must have become a very successful businessman?”

Rohan gave him a half smile that bracketed his handsome mouth. “I’ve had a few lucky breaks, Doctor.”

“I think it would have more to do with brain power. You were always very clever.”

George Morrissey, the keeper of many secrets, turned back to take another look at Charlotte and her precious boy. What a beautiful child Christopher was, with those glorious blue eyes! One rarely saw that depth of colour. He had delivered Christopher Prescott, Charlotte’s baby, who had come a little early. He was sure everyone had believed him. He was the most respected medical doctor in the Valley. After the tragic death of Charlotte’s young brother Matthew, and the flight of her mother from the “haunted” Valley, he had become very protective of Charlotte Marsdon, who had gone on to marry a young man who in his opinion had simply not been worthy of her. Martyn Prescott—who himself had met a tragic fate.

Christopher too wanted to talk to the tall stranger—the man who had carried his mother so effortlessly into their house. Well, his house now. And it seemed to suit him just fine. Christopher was very thankful the right person would have ownership of Riverbend. He looked just the sort of man to look after it.

Christopher stood up, wondering why his mother was trying to grab hold of his arm. He held out his hand, as he had been taught. “Hello, I’m Christopher. We used to live here.”

“I know that, Christopher,” the man answered quietly, moving in closer.

The man’s blue eyes made contact with his own, and Christopher felt transfixed. “Do you know Mummy?” He didn’t see how the man could, yet those vibes he seemed to have inherited from someone told him this man and his mother knew one another well. It was a mystery, but there it was!

Charlotte put her feet to the floor, unsure if she could even stand, still not looking at Rohan but acutely aware that the full force of his attention was focused on her and her son. “Mr Costello is a very busy man, Chris,” she said. Christopher was so sharp. “We mustn’t keep him from mingling with his guests.”

“No, Mummy.” Christopher nodded his head in agreement, but continued with a further question. “How do you know my mother?” It seemed important he find out. Perceptive beyond his years, he felt the tension between his mother and the tall stranger. He couldn’t figure it out. But it was there. Mummy was nice to everyone, yet she wasn’t being exactly nice to Mr Costello. Something had to be worrying her.

“Your mother and I grew up together, Christopher,” Rohan explained. “I left the Valley when I was seventeen. I’m Rohan. No need to call me Mr Costello.”

“Oh, I’d like that,” Christopher said, his cheeks taking on a gratified flush. “We thought you were going to be pretty old. But you’re young!”

“Your mother has never mentioned me?”

Christopher shook his blond head. “Did you know my dad died?” He edged closer to the man. It was like being drawn by a magnet. It sort of thrilled him. He felt he could follow this man Rohan like the disciples in Bible stories had followed their Master. It both pleased and puzzled him.

“Yes, I did, Christopher. I’m very sorry.” Rohan’s voice was gentle, yet his expression was stern.

“There’s just Mummy and me now.” Christopher felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. He had loved his dad. Of course he had. One had to love one’s dad. But never like he loved his mother. What was really strange was that he cared for his grumpy old grandfather more than he had cared for his dad. “And Grandpa, of course,” he tacked on. “You must have known my dad and Uncle Mattie?”

“Oh, darling, not all these questions!” Charlotte spoke with agitation. He had sussed out enough already. Something had happened to Christopher of late. He was picking up on vibes, on looks and words that appeared to him laden with meaning. He was growing up too fast.

For once, Christopher didn’t heed her. “Uncle Mattie is still around,” he told Rohan, staring up at him. He was really surprised by the way he felt drawn to his man. “I often feel Uncle Mattie around.”

Rohan didn’t laugh or deride his claim. “I believe it, Christopher,” he said. “I feel Mattie too, at different times. He would have loved you.”

“Would he?” Christopher was immensely pleased. Uncle Mattie would have loved him! He was liking Rohan more and more. “Mummy said I looked like him when I was little.” He continued to meet Rohan’s amazing blue eyes. They glittered like jewels. “Do I?”

Rohan considered that carefully. “You might have, Christopher, when you were younger. But not now.”

“No.” Christopher shook his blond head, as though his own opinion had been confirmed. “I don’t look like anyone, really,” he confided.

Oh, yes, you do!

Charlotte kept her head down, her heart fluttering wildly in her breast. Christopher’s face had changed as the baby softness had firmed and his features became more pronounced. Heredity. It was all so dangerous.

It was Diane Rodgers who located Charlotte’s expensive sandals, then passed them to her in such a manner as to suggest a hurry-up. There was a faint accompanying glare as well. Charlotte bent to put her strappy sandals back on, then made an attempt to fix her hair. She felt totally disorientated. And there was Christopher, chattering away to Rohan as if he had known him all his young life. It almost broke her.

“Here’s your hat, love.” A familiar face swam into view. Kathy Nolan—a good friend to her mother and a good friend to her. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, Kathy.” Charlotte took the picture hat in her hand.

“Feeling better now, love?” Kathy Nolan was very fond of Charlotte.

“Much better, thank you, Kathy. I’m so sorry I embarrassed you all. The heat got to me.”

Kathy, a kindly woman, let that go. A beautiful breeze was keeping the temperature positively balmy. Charlotte had fainted because Rohan Costello was the last man in the universe she would have expected to buy the Marsdon mansion, Kathy reckoned. To tell the truth she felt a little freaked out herself. Rohan Costello, of all people! And didn’t he look marvellous! Always a handsome boy, the adult Rohan took her breath away. Many people in the Valley—herself and her husband certainly—had been unhappy when the Costellos had left after Rohan had completed his final year at secondary school. Later they had learned he was their top achiever. The highest category. No surprise.

Poor Barbara had never made allowances for the ages of the other children when Mattie had drowned. It had been a terrible accident. With all the care in the world, accidents still happened. Yet Barbara had gone on a bitter, never-ending attack. So very sad! Loss took people in different ways. Bereft of her son, Barbara Marsdon had been in despair. That inner devastation had brought about the divorce. The marriage had been beyond repair. Barbara had told her she’d doubted her ability to be a good mother to Charlotte. She wasn’t functioning properly. That had been true enough. Charlotte was to remain with her father.

Yet here was Rohan Costello, back in the Valley. Not only that, taking possession of Riverbend. Fact is far stranger than fiction, Kathy thought.

Diane Rodgers, looking very glamorous in classic white, with a striking black and white creation on her head, spoke up. “Would you like me to help you back to the Lodge, Mrs Prescott? No trouble, I assure you.”

At the sound of those precise tones, Christopher swung back. “Mummy has me,” he said, not rudely—he knew better than that—but he didn’t like the way the lady was speaking to his mother. It didn’t sound gentle and caring, like Mrs Nolan. It sounded more like teachers at his school when the kids weren’t on their best behaviour.

“Wouldn’t you like to stay on, Christopher?” Rohan suggested. “I’m sure you have a friend with you. I’ll run your mother home.”

Christopher considered that for a full minute. “I won’t stay if you don’t feel well, Mummy,” he said, his protective attitude on show. “Peter will be okay.”

Charlotte rose to her feet, hoping she didn’t look as desperate as she felt. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to bother about me. I don’t want anyone to bother about me. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure of that, Charlie?” Morrissey laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You mustn’t let me keep you, George.” Charlotte gave him a shaky smile. “I know you and Ruth will love wandering around the grounds. They’re in tip-top condition.”

“That they are!” George Morrissey agreed. He turned back to the tall authoritative figure of the adult Rohan Costello. “I’d be delighted if you’d say hello to my wife, Rohan. She’d love to catch up.”

“It would be a pleasure.” Rohan gave a slight inclination of his handsome dark head.

The doctor lifted a hand in general farewell, then walked off towards the entrance hall.

“You must allow me to run you back to the Lodge at least, Charlotte,” Rohan said, with a compelling undernote she couldn’t fail to miss. “I’ll make sure Chris gets home.”

“Thank you, Rohan,” Christopher piped up. “Can’t take the helicopter, I suppose?” he joked, executing a full circle, arms outstretched. “Whump, whump, whump!”

“Not that far.” Rohan returned the boy’s entrancing smile. “But I promise you a ride one day soon.”

Christopher looked blown away. “Gee, that’s great! Wait until I tell Peter.”

“Maybe Peter too,” Rohan said.

“That’d be awesome! So where’s Grandpa?” Christopher suddenly asked of his mother. “Why didn’t he come into the house?”

“He may well be outside, Christopher,” Rohan answered smoothly. “Why don’t you go and see? Your mother is safe with me.”

“Is that all right, Mummy? I can go?” Christopher studied her face. His mother was so beautiful. The most beautiful mother in the world.

“Of course you can, darling.” Charlotte summoned up a smile. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you.” Christopher shifted his blue gaze back to Rohan. “It’s great to meet you, Rohan.” He put out his hand. Man to man.

Rohan shook it gravely. “Great to meet you too, Christopher,” he responded. “At long last.”

Many things in life changed. Some things never did.