Читать книгу Dreaming Of You - Margaret Way, Beth Kery - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

‘SHE’S what?’ Connor reached out and gripped Jaz’s shoulders. ‘Did you say smacking her? Are you telling me Mrs Benedict is hitting my daughter?’

‘You’re hurting me, Connor.’

He released her immediately. And started to pace.

‘Relax, Connor, Melly is—’

‘Relax? Relax!’ How the hell could she say that when—

‘Melanie is safe. That’s all that matters, right? You can tackle Mrs Benedict tomorrow. Flying off the handle now won’t solve anything.’

She had a point. He dragged in a breath. But when he got hold of Mrs Benedict he’d—

‘Working out what’s best for Melanie is what’s important now, isn’t it?’

‘She’s not going back to that woman’s place!’

‘Good.’

He dragged in another breath. ‘So that’s why she’s been coming here?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’ve been walking her to Mrs Benedict’s front gate each afternoon?’

‘Yes.’

‘And trying to talk her into confiding in me?’

‘Yes.’

He ground his teeth together. ‘Thank you.’

‘It was nothing.’

She tried to shrug his words off, but her eyes were wide and blue. It wasn’t nothing and they both knew it.

He unclenched his jaw. ‘Do you have any idea why Mel didn’t want to confide in me?’

Jaz hesitated again. ‘I…’

She did! She knew more about what was going through his daughter’s head than he did.

She eyed him warily. ‘Will you promise not to shout any more?’

Did she think he’d lash out at her in his anger? He recalled the way he’d stormed in here, and dragged a hand down his face. ‘I’ll do my best,’ he ground out.

‘It seems that because you’re working so hard, your mother is concerned about your…welfare.’

He frowned. ‘I don’t get what you’re driving at.’

She moistened her lips. He tried to ignore their shine, their fullness…and the hunger that suddenly seized him.

‘It seems your mother has been lecturing Melly not to bother you with her troubles when you’re so obviously busy with work.’

He gaped at her. No! He snapped his jaw shut. ‘You never did like my mother, did you?’

‘No, Connor, that’s not true, but she never liked me. And in hindsight I can’t really blame her. She could hardly have been thrilled that the rebellious Goth girl was going out with her son now, could she?’

His mother had always been…overprotective.

‘Look, I’m not making this up.’

He didn’t want to believe her…but he did.

She grimaced. ‘And, for what it’s worth, I think your mother is well-intentioned. She is your mother, after all. It’s natural for her to have your best interests at heart.’

‘She should have Mel’s best interests at heart.’ He collapsed onto one of the leatherette cubes. Mel needed a woman in her life, but the two he’d chosen had let her down badly.

And so she’d latched onto Jaz?

What a mess.

This wasn’t his mother’s fault. It wasn’t even Mrs Benedict’s fault, though he’d still have some choice words for her when he saw her tomorrow. This was his fault. He hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it before and he didn’t want to acknowledge it now, but Mel needed a younger woman in her life. Not two women who were at least fifty years older than her.

But Jaz?

‘Don’t look like that,’ Jaz chided. ‘This isn’t the end of the world. So you knock off from here in time to collect Melly from school for the rest of the week. That’s no big deal.’

‘It’ll put work on the flat back by a day.’

She shrugged again. ‘Like I said—no big deal.’

‘She didn’t confide in me!’ The words burst from him, but he couldn’t hold them back. Mel had refused to confide in him, but she’d confided in Jaz?

Jaz!

‘So you work on winning back her trust. On Saturday you take her out on the skyway. Tell her she looks so pretty you’re going to call her Princess Melly for the day and that her every wish is your command.’

He stared at her and he couldn’t help it—a grin built up inside him at the image she’d planted in his mind…and at how alive her face had become as she described it. Who called Jaz Princess Jaz? Who tried to make her dreams come true?

He wondered if she’d like to come out on the skyway with him and Mel on Saturday? He wondered if—

Whoa! He pulled back. No way. He was grateful for the insights she’d given him, but not that grateful. Mel might need a younger woman in her life, but Jaz Harper wasn’t that woman.

Jaz’s smile faltered. ‘You want me to butt out now, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ There was no sense in trying to soften his intentions.

‘I see.’

He felt like a heel. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he would not—could not—let her hurt Mel. He hardened his heart. ‘I don’t want you involved in my daughter’s life.’

‘Good!’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Because I don’t want to be involved in any part of your life either.’

He didn’t want what had happened to Frieda happening to Jaz either, though. The thought had him breaking out in a cold sweat. ‘I didn’t mean that to sound as rotten as it did. It’s just…you tell me you’re only here for twelve months.’

She folded her arms. ‘That’s right.’

He swore he glimpsed tears in her eyes. ‘Bloody hell, Jaz. If you’re only here for twelve months, I don’t want Mel getting attached to you. She’ll only be hurt when you leave. She won’t understand.’

‘I hear you, all right!’

Yep, definitely tears. ‘Look, I didn’t understand when you left eight years ago and I was eighteen. What hope does a seven-year-old have?’

Her jaw dropped and that old anger, the old pain, reared up through him. ‘Hell, Jaz! You left and you didn’t even tell me why!’

She’d hurt him. Eight years ago, she’d hurt him. She could tell by his pallor, in the way his eyes glittered. In the way the tiredness had invaded the skin around his mouth.

But he’d married Faye so quickly that she’d thought…

She gulped. ‘Darn it all, Connor, I was only going to be gone for three months.’

‘Three months!’ His jaw went slack. His Adam’s apple worked. ‘Three months?’ he repeated before he tensed up again. ‘Where the hell did you go? And why didn’t you tell me?’

His pain wrapped around her with tentacles that tried to squeeze the air out of her body. She had to drag in a breath before she could speak. ‘You have to understand, I was seriously cut up that you thought I could ever cheat on you.’

He hadn’t given her a chance to explain at the time. He’d hurled his accusations with all the ferocity of a cornered, injured animal—even then she’d known it was his shock and pain talking, the unexpectedness of finding her at the Hancocks’ house, because she had lied about that.

‘Stop playing games, Jaz.’ He spoke quietly. ‘I know you were cheating on me with Sam Hancock.’

A spurt of anger rippled through her, followed closely by grim satisfaction. She wanted—no, needed—him to keep his distance. If he thought she was the kind of woman who’d cheat on him and still lie about it eight years later, he’d definitely keep his distance.

She was not travelling to hell again with Connor Reed. It had taken too long to get over the last time. He hadn’t trusted her then and he didn’t trust her now. He’d jumped to conclusions back then and, on this evening’s evidence, he still jumped to conclusions now. So much for older and wiser!

‘Does it even matter now?’ she managed in as frigid a tone as she could muster.

‘Not in the slightest. I understand why people cheat. That’s not the issue.’

She didn’t bother calling him a liar. There didn’t seem to be any point. Perhaps it didn’t make an ounce of difference to him now anyway.

‘What I don’t understand is why people run.’ He stabbed a finger at her. ‘What I don’t get is why you left the way you did.’

The flesh on her arms grew cold. If Faye had deserted him too without an explanation…

Was an overdue explanation better than no explanation at all? One glance into his face told her the answer. She pulled in a breath and did what she could to ignore the sudden tiredness that made her limbs heavy. ‘Let’s just take it as a given that I was in a right state by the time I got home that night, okay?’ It made her sick to the stomach just remembering it.

‘Fine.’ The word emerged clipped and short.

‘My mother calmed me down.’ Eventually. ‘And, bit by bit, got the story out of me.’

‘And?’ he said when she stopped.

‘Did you know that my mother didn’t approve of our relationship?’

He blinked and she laughed. Not a mirthful laugh. Definitely not a joyful one. ‘I know—funny, isn’t it? The rest of the town thought it was me—the rebel Goth girl—leading clean-cut Connor Reed astray.’

‘I thought she liked me!’

‘She did. But she thought we were too young for such an intense relationship. She was worried I’d put all my dreams on hold for you.’

She could see now that Frieda Harper had had every reason to be concerned. Jaz had been awed by Connor’s love—grateful to him for it, unable to believe he could truly love a girl like her. And she’d hidden behind his popularity, his ease with people, instead of standing on her own two feet. Frieda had understood that.

‘She asked me to go away from Clara Falls for three months. She begged me to.’

Connor’s face had gone white. Jaz swallowed. ‘She told me that you and I needed time out from each other, to gain perspective.’ And Jaz had been so hurt and so…angry. She’d wanted Connor to pay for the things he’d said. ‘She told me that if you really loved me, you’d wait for me.’ And Jaz had believed her. ‘I went to my aunt’s house in Newcastle for three months.’ And she’d counted down every single day.

She lifted her head and met his gaze. ‘But you didn’t wait for me.’

His eyes flashed dark in the pallor of his face. ‘Are you trying to put the blame back on me?’

‘No.’ She shook her head, a black heaviness pressing down on her. ‘I’m simply saying you didn’t wait.’

He flung an arm in the air. ‘I thought you were gone for ever! I didn’t think you were ever coming back.’

He’d jumped to conclusions. Again. ‘You didn’t bother looking for me!’

He took several paces away from her, then swung back. ‘Three months?’ He stabbed an accusing finger at her. ‘You didn’t come back!’

The space between them sparked with unspoken resentments and hurts.

Jaz moistened her lips and got her voice back under control. ‘The day before I was due to come home, my mother rang. She told me Faye was pregnant and that you were the father. And that you were engaged.’

Connor dragged both hands back through his hair. He collapsed to the leatherette cube as if he’d lost all strength in his legs. Jaz leant heavily against the wall by the unfinished portrait of her mother.

She reached up to touch it, then pulled her hand away at the last moment. She glanced back at Connor. ‘You have to see that I couldn’t come back once I’d heard that.’

‘Why not?’

‘There’d be no chance for you and Faye to sort things out if I’d done that.’

She didn’t mean to sound arrogant, but it was the truth. For good or ill, she and Connor would’ve picked straight up where they’d left off—in each other’s arms.

He shot to his feet. ‘Am I supposed to take that as some kind of noble gesture on your part?’

That tone would’ve shrivelled her eight years ago. It didn’t shrivel her now.

‘Noble? Ha!’ She glared at him. ‘I can’t see there’s much of anything noble in this entire situation.’ She pushed away from the wall. ‘But a baby was going to be involved and…and I wasn’t going to interfere with that.’

His glare subsided. He bent at the waist, rested his hands on his knees and didn’t say anything.

‘But how could you?’ Her voice shook. ‘How could you sleep with my best friend? Faye, of all people!’ The pain of that still ran deep. ‘Why Faye?’

Very slowly, he straightened. The emptiness in his eyes shocked her. ‘Because she reminded me of you. I was searching for a substitute and she was the nearest I could find.’

The breath left her body. She fell back against the wall. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

What was there to say? It was all history now. It was too late for her and Connor.

The silence stretched—eloquent of the rift that had grown between them in the intervening years. Connor finally nodded. ‘Goodnight, Jaz.’ And he made for the door.

For a moment she still couldn’t speak. Then, ‘If you tell Melly I broke her confidence…it will hurt her.’

He stopped, but he didn’t turn around.

‘I don’t think she deserves that.’

He seemed to think about that and then he nodded. ‘You’re right.’ He took one further step away, stopped again…and then he turned. ‘Do you seriously think that, given more time, she would’ve confided in me?’

‘I’m convinced of it.’ She tried to find a smile. ‘Wait and see. She still might yet.’

She thought he might say something more, but he didn’t.

‘By the way, did you know that Carmen Sears is looking for an after school job?’

He frowned. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘She’d make a great babysitter for Melanie.’

‘But she’s—’

He broke off and Jaz couldn’t stop her lips from twisting. ‘Yes, she’s a rebel Goth girl. And she seems like a nice kid. Just thought you might be interested, that’s all.’

He stared at her for a long moment. ‘Why did it take you so long to come back?’

The tone of his voice gave nothing away, and for a brief moment a sense of loss gaped through her. She shrugged and strove for casual. ‘Pride, I guess, and resentment at the way things turned out. I was angry with you and Faye. I was angry with my mother. I wanted to forget.’

She shrugged again. She had a feeling she might be overdoing the shrug thing but she couldn’t seem to help it. ‘In the end it became a habit.’ A habit that had broken her mother’s heart.

She lifted her chin. ‘Goodnight, Connor.’

First thing Thursday morning, Mrs Lavender put Jaz to work changing the book display in the front window. Jaz had a feeling it was a ploy to stop her from fretting about their lack of customers.

‘It hasn’t been changed in nearly two months. Look, we’ve all these lovely new bestsellers…and it’ll be Mother’s Day in a couple of weeks. It needs sprucing up!’

A shaft of pain speared straight into Jaz’s heart at the mention of Mother’s Day. She kept her chin high, but Mrs Lavender must’ve seen the strain in her face because she stilled, then reached out and touched Jaz’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, Jazmin, that was thoughtless of me.’

‘Not at all.’ She gulped. She would not let her chin drop. ‘I’m the one who didn’t come back for the past eight Mother’s Days. I have no right to self-pity now.’ Oh, she’d sent flowers, had phoned, but it wasn’t the same.

‘You have a right to your grief.’

Jaz managed a weak smile, but she didn’t answer. She deserved to spend this coming Mother’s Day burning with guilt.

She made Mrs Lavender a cup of tea, noticed Connor’s truck parked out the back, and the burning in her chest increased ten-fold.

‘Have you looked these over, Jaz?’

Jaz had just climbed out of the window, pleased with her brand new display. She glanced over Mrs Lavender’s shoulder. ‘Oh, those.’ A printout of the sales figures for the last three months. A weight dropped to her shoulders and crashed and banged and did what it could to hammer her through the floor. ‘Appalling, aren’t they?’

‘You have to turn these around, and fast.’ There was no mistaking Mrs Lavender’s concern. ‘Jaz, this is serious.’

‘I…’ She was doing all she could.

Mrs Lavender tapped her pen against the counter, ummed and ahhed under her breath. Then her face suddenly lit up. ‘We’ll have a book fair, that’s what we’ll do! It’ll stir up some interest in this place again.’

‘A book fair?’

‘We’ll get in entertainment for the kiddies, we’ll have readings by local authors… We’ll have a ten per cent sale on all our books. We’ll get people excited. We’ll get people to come. And, by golly, we’ll save this bookshop!’

Jaz clutched her hands together. ‘Do you think it could work?’

‘My dear Jazmin, we’re going to have to make it work. Either that or make the decision to sell up to Mr Sears.’

‘No!’ She cast a glance towards the back wall and the unfinished portrait of Frieda. ‘I’m not selling to him.’ She hitched up her chin. ‘We’ll have a book fair.’

She and Mrs Lavender spent the rest of the morning planning a full-page advertisement in the local newspaper. They discussed children’s entertainment. Jaz started to design posters and flyers. They settled on the day—the Saturday of the Mother’s Day weekend.

If the book fair didn’t work…

Jaz shook her head. She refused to think about that.

At midday Mrs Lavender excused herself to go and sit on her usual park bench to torment Boyd Longbottom.

‘What’s the story with you and Boyd Longbottom, anyway?’ Jaz asked.

‘He was a beau of mine, a long time ago.’

Jaz set her pen down. ‘Really?’

‘But when I chose my Arthur over him, he swore he’d never speak to me again. He’s kept his word to this very day.’

‘But that’s awful.’

‘He never left Clara Falls. He never married. And he’s not spoken to me again, not once.’

‘That’s…sad.’

‘Yes, Jaz, it is.’ Mrs Lavender opened her mouth as if she meant to say more, but she shut it again. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

At quarter past twelve Connor jogged across the street to Mr Sears’s bakery. On his way back he stopped right outside the bookshop window to survey the new display.

Jaz stood behind one of the bookcases she was tidying and watched him. Her heart squeezed so tight the blood rushed in her ears.

Turn your back. Walk away.

Her body refused to obey the dictates of her brain.

At least close your eyes.

She didn’t obey that order either. She remembered how she and Connor had once shared their drawings with each other, offering praise or criticism, suggestions for improvements. She searched his face. Did he like her display?

She couldn’t tell.

He didn’t lift his eyes and search for her inside the shop.

Eventually he turned and strode away. The tightness around Jaz’s heart eased, but nothing could expand to fill the gap that yawned through her.

At a touch after three-thirty the phone rang. Jaz pounced on it, eager to take her mind off the fact that Melly wasn’t here. She’d known Melly wouldn’t show up here today. Just as she knew Melly wouldn’t show up here tomorrow…or any other day from now on.

She didn’t know why it should make her feel lonely, only that it did.

‘Hey, mate!’ Her business partner’s voice boomed down the line at her. ‘How’re you doing?’

‘Mac!’ She grinned. ‘Better now that I’m talking to you. How are Bonnie and the kids?’

‘They send their love. Now, tell me, has the town welcomed you back with open arms?’

‘Yes and no. Business could be a lot better, though. I’m not getting any local trade.’

‘Are they giving you a hard time?’

‘Well, there is a rumour that I’m the local drug baron.’

His laughter roared down the line, lifting her spirits. ‘What? Little Ms Clean-as-a-Whistle Jaz Harper?’ He sobered. ‘I bet that’s doing wonders for business.’

‘Ooh, yeah.’

‘Listen, mate, I have a job for you, and I have a plan.’

Her smile widened as she listened to his plan.