by Marinelli, Carol; Hayward, Jennifer; Stephens, Susan; Anderson, Natalie
She glanced at him with concern. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Don’t be late. Go,’ he insisted.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said, turning to give him one last rabbit-in-the-headlights smile.
He ground his jaw at the knowledge that whatever had brought bold and feisty Lizzie back to him it had now, for reasons unknown, taken her away again.
He kept the engine purring in neutral long enough to see her disappear inside the restaurant, and then his phone rang just as he was about to drive away.
‘No problem,’ he told his father, who had asked if Damon would mind delaying their meeting.
‘You can go and listen to the orchestra instead of me, and give me a report,’ his father suggested.
‘I’d love to,’ he said dryly.
Maybe music could ‘soothe a savage breast’, he reflected, thinking about Lizzie and the secret she found so hard to share with him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IANNIS HAD PROMISED Lizzie that she could set her watch by the local bus. And so it proved to be. She got off the bus outside the school grounds where Thea was due to play that afternoon with ample time to spare.
She took a moment to smooth her lovely yellow dress and her hair. Her old lady dress, Lizzie thought, smiling as she remembered what Thea had said. It was a beautiful dress, made all the more lovely by the thought behind it. It had been a long time since Lizzie had worn anything but jeans and a top, or a server’s uniform, and she wanted Thea to know how much the gift of a dress meant to her.
The school was set in a picturesque valley between lush, vine-covered hills. It thrilled Lizzie to think that Thea’s talent had brought her to such a beautiful place. Set like a jewel in an aquamarine sea, the island boasted shady olive groves and sparkling rivers and, though it was hot today, there was a covered awning to keep both audience and performers cool.
Nothing had been overlooked. Refreshments had been set out on trestle tables, and it promised to be a wonderful afternoon. Excitement gripped Lizzie as she anticipated another performance. This one was more of a rehearsal, and that, together with knowing that Damon was visiting his parents allowed her to relax and enjoy the fact that Thea Floros—as Thea was known now, having taken Lizzie’s mother’s name—would be the star soloist today.
Lizzie glowed with pride as she joined the line of parents waiting to take their seats. When at last the gates to the school opened and everyone filed in Lizzie only wished she were taller, so she could be the first to catch sight of Thea. For now she had to be content with shuffling along at a snail’s pace, walled in by a platoon of parents, but then people finally started sitting down and she could see the children.
‘Eísai entáxei. Megáli chaméni efkairía?’
‘Are you all right?’ someone translated for Lizzie as she swayed.
She caught hold of a nearby chair for support.
‘It must be the heat,’ she excused. ‘I don’t see this much sun in London, but thank you for your concern.’
The kindness of strangers couldn’t help her now. How could Thea be talking to Damon? He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be visiting his parents. And Thea wasn’t just chatting to him, as a child might talk politely to a stranger who had expressed an interest in her music, she was laughing with him as if they were old friends.
Two dark heads with the same thick, wavy black hair. Two sets of laughing brown eyes. Two tanned faces with features so similar, so strong, and both so beautiful.
Thea had said something that had made Damon shove his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, throw his head back and laugh. Lizzie felt the chill of exclusion. What could they be saying to each other? How much did Damon know?
Worse! How much did Thea know?
She had never seen Damon looking so relaxed, or Thea so happy. Theirs was such an unexpected rapport it frightened her. It had always been just the two of them before. Thea and Lizzie… Lizzie and Thea. But now the likeness between father and daughter was startling.
Seeing them together for the first time was the most unnerving experience of Lizzie’s life. It wasn’t just that Damon’s full-blooded Greek genes had prevailed over Lizzie’s part-Greek, part-Celtic mix, but the fact was that anyone could see that Damon and Thea were father and daughter. Could Damon see it too? Could Thea?
She stood motionless, watching, numb with shock. It was too late to do anything properly now. The moment had come and gone, and watching Thea and Damon together stirred new fears. How quickly Lizzie’s father had lost interest in her, once his life had changed. She’d been determined to protect Thea from that. But now she wondered if she’d been over-protective. Had she got everything wrong?
Both Damon and Thea had cause to hate her. And she’d done that all on her own. Damon’s first thought would be to protect Thea. Could she blame him for that? How could she, when Lizzie had kept Thea from her father? Would Thea be angry? Would Thea reject Lizzie in favour of the man who could give her so much more? And would it be right for Lizzie to stand in Thea’s way if that was what Thea wanted?
She had to remain calm, Lizzie concluded. She could not go to pieces now. She’d been strong for eleven years, and if ever there was a time to be strong it was now. She couldn’t move at the moment anyway. There were people blocking her way. All she could do was stand and watch Thea and Damon, wondering if she could have done something differently or better.
Shame. That was what she felt most. She should have found a way to tell them both the truth long before now.
And then, as if Lizzie and Thea were joined by some magical cord, Thea looked up and saw her.
Calling out, ‘Mama! Mama!’ at the top of her voice, she came running full pelt towards Lizzie.
‘Mama!’ Thea gasped when she reached Lizzie’s side. ‘You must come and meet my new friend, Damon Gavros! Okay—you stay there,’ she said when Lizzie remained unresponsive. ‘Save him a seat and I’ll make sure he sits next to you. I’ve lined him up for a date with you later. I told him how beautiful you are—’
Racing away again, Thea retraced her steps and re-joined her friends in the orchestra.
Could a heart break and shatter into pieces? When Lizzie saw Damon’s face she felt sure it could.
‘Come with me,’ Damon said when he reached her side.
He spoke quietly, but in a tone so hostile that everyone around them turned to stare.
‘I can’t—the concert’s about to begin.’ Lizzie glanced at the stage where Thea was sitting.
Thea was her anchor. She couldn’t move.
‘You can and you will come with me,’ Damon assured her. ‘The children don’t play their pieces until after the speeches of welcome, and what I have to say to you won’t take long.’
She couldn’t make a scene—not here, of all places. Thea was sneaking glances at Lizzie to see how her matchmaking was working out. The last thing Lizzie wanted was to give Thea anything to worry about just before her concert began.
‘Okay,’ she agreed.
Smiling and waving at Thea, she indicated how long she’d be with five fingers held up.
Thea’s smile was so broad and her eyes were so bright with hope that Lizzie knew she’d never felt so ashamed in her life as she walked away with Damon. There was disappointing your child, and then there was completely betraying her.
Damon ushered her ahead of him inside the school, where they would have some privacy. It was cool after the heat of the sun, and deserted. Their footsteps echoed on the tiled floor as he led the way into a classroom.
Closing the door, he leaned back against it, trapping them inside the empty room. ‘When were you going to tell me?’
When Thea knew, of course.
She raised her chin to confront a man she barely recognised. Damon had pitched his voice low, but it w
as harsh with shock and anger. She stood about six feet away, with nothing to hang on to except her determination to try and do the right thing.
‘I planned to tell you as soon as I had explained to Thea that you were back in our lives.’ And then another horrible thought struck her. ‘Have you told Thea?’
‘Do you think I’m mad?’ Damon’s eyes flared with rage. ‘How could you think I’d do something like that?’
‘Because I don’t know you—’ That was true. She didn’t know the man he had become. ‘It’s been a long time, Damon.’
‘A very long time,’ he agreed in a voice turned to ice.
Remembering Thea’s happy face the moment she’d spotted Lizzie, waiting to take her seat, Lizzie knew she was overreacting in this instance, and that neither Damon nor Thea had made any connection between them until Thea had run up to Lizzie. Then Damon must have known.
‘And in all that very long time you couldn’t find the right moment to tell me that we had a child?’
He was incredulous. And furious. But she was armed too. ‘It wasn’t all about you, Damon.’
‘Or you,’ he fired back. ‘Was a child so unimportant you just forgot to mention it?’
‘Thea—not a child. And there is nothing more important to me than Thea.’
‘How about giving me a chance to feel the same?’ he suggested cuttingly.
Damon was incandescent with fury, but she hadn’t expressed her feelings for almost eleven years. She hadn’t had that luxury. She’d been too busy being a mother and keeping food on the table, a roof over their heads.
‘I had a lot going on,’ she said, battling to rein herself in. ‘When I did try to contact you, your people blocked me, and I didn’t have the resources to keep on trying to call. And even if I had…’ She shrugged angrily. ‘What would you have done?’
His jaw ground tensely. ‘I wouldn’t have been as insensitive as you.’
‘Insensitive?’ Lizzie clenched her fists. ‘This from the man who turned his back on me after the court case, in spite having slept with me the night before? No doubt you’d washed your hands of everything to do with my family by that time. You’d got your victory, so everything else—including me—was done and dusted.’
‘I moved on—as you did,’ Damon countered coldly.
‘I moved on because I had to. I didn’t have a home to go to. You walked away without a backward glance.’ Her shoulders lifted tensely. ‘You didn’t care what happened to me after the court case.’
‘You weren’t my responsibility,’ Damon said coldly, and with a good deal of truth.
‘Correct,’ Lizzie agreed. ‘But you can be quick to help those you want to, can’t you Damon? You just couldn’t see beyond bedding me, and you certainly didn’t care about me, did you? So don’t you dare come back now and start accusing me of handling things badly. We both made mistakes—’
‘You can’t turn this around on me.’
‘Why not?’ Lizzie challenged. ‘You walked away.’
‘There was nothing to walk away from.’
With a shake of her head, she laughed angrily. ‘Exactly. All I am to you—all I ever was—is a one-night stand.’
‘And you had so much going on in your life that letting me know you were expecting my child came well down the list.’
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ Lizzie exclaimed. ‘I didn’t have your resources. I was thrown out of my childhood home with just the clothes I stood up in. I didn’t have any money. I certainly didn’t have a phone. I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from, let alone whether I could manage to put a roof over my head. And at that stage, Damon, you were the last person I’d have thought of calling. Why would I, when you’d made no attempt to find me?
‘I had no one to rely on but myself—and don’t think for one moment that I’m complaining, because it was a good thing. Being alone taught me self-reliance and helped me to be a better mother for Thea. It made me strong and determined, and I learned that if I took one step at a time I could survive—I could put a roof over my head and I could care for my baby. Those were the only things that mattered to me—not you, nor me. Beyond keeping healthy for Thea’s sake, the only thing I cared about—still care about and always will care about—is Thea.’
‘You should have come to me,’ he ground out.
‘Should I?’ she demanded. ‘If I could have found you, do you mean? After I’d repeatedly contacted your people and been turned away I made one attempt to appeal to my stepmother, one woman to another. I told her I was pregnant and begged her to help me find you. She laughed in my face and told me never to return. She couldn’t have a slut damaging her reputation, she said. Yes, it was a slap in the face,’ Lizzie agreed, ‘but it pulled me together fast and I managed very well without her—and without you too. It didn’t take me long to learn that I was better on my own.’
‘You didn’t give me the chance,’ Damon said with a shake of his head. ‘You didn’t give me the chance to know my child. And, yes, I was away for a lot of the time, but since I came back I’ve taken you out twice, and yet you never hinted that we had a daughter together. Do you have an explanation for that?’
‘Yes, I do. Thea had to know first. I was protecting her. And if you can’t see that then you’re not fit to call yourself her father. That’s the difference between you and me,’ she added. ‘You have all the power and money in the world, and I have nothing, but when it comes to Thea you won’t get past me.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure. I have rights,’ he said.
‘You have no rights,’ Lizzie argued, feeling calmer.
‘I… I have no rights?’
Damon almost laughed—as well he might. A man who could command anything that money could buy, would find it difficult, if not impossible, to conceive that there was something on this earth he couldn’t have.
Lizzie felt as if ice had invaded her veins, but nothing would stop her when she was in defence of her child, and Damon had to hear this. ‘You have no rights because there’s no father listed on Thea’s birth certificate.’
‘A DNA test would soon establish my rights as Thea’s father,’ he said confidently.
‘If I allowed such a test to take place.’ Lizzie lifted her chin. ‘The fact that your name doesn’t appear on Thea’s birth certificate means that you have no legal rights over Thea unless I allow you to.’
‘I’ll fight you every way I can,’ Damon threatened, frowning.
‘Again?’ Lizzie said quietly. ‘Before you deploy your legal team, you should know this. Thea doesn’t want to know her father. She never has. She asked me to stop talking about him because we were all right as we were, and she didn’t want some mystery man entering her life.’
‘She might change her mind if she knew it was me.’
Damon’s voice was so cold it chilled her.
A burst of applause drew their attention to the window. The conductor was mounting the stage.
‘I have to go.’ She turned for the door. Damon remained where he was. She hesitated with her hand on the door handle. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she drew in a breath and then turned back to face him. ‘You should hear her play. You’ll regret it if you don’t.’
She walked out of the room and didn’t stop until she was outside the school. She felt as if she were suffocating, and gulped in air. There was no one behind her…no sound…no footsteps…no Damon.
* * *
He was incapable of feeling anything—numb, existing on autopilot. He was breathing, maybe. He stood in the silence of an empty room until the first swell of music from the youth orchestra prompted him to act.
Lizzie was easy to spot, with her shining red hair in a sea of ebony locks. There was only one empty seat left in the entire audience and that was next to her. He could have stood at the back, or at the s
ide, but that might have looked odd to Thea.
Lizzie didn’t acknowledge him as he sat down. He didn’t acknowledge her. They might have been two strangers. Two strangers with a daughter between them.
He had a daughter.
He kept on repeating the phrase over and over in his head, as if it would finally make some sense to him.
The young musical sensation Thea Floros was his daughter… Floros was Lizzie’s mother’s maiden name.
The pieces clicked into place one after the other as he sat immobile in a state of shock. Another part of his brain was agitatedly wondering how to make up for eleven years. He had a child, and that changed everything.
The little violinist he’d got on with so well with was his daughter. And Thea was her name. He had a daughter named Thea…
Repeating this was both surprising and wonderful, and he kept on repeating it as the orchestra played.
‘Damon?’
He heard Lizzie murmur something to him, but he couldn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer her. He didn’t want to speak to her. He wasn’t ready to share the way he felt right now with anyone—especially Lizzie. He couldn’t have put his thoughts into words, anyway, and not just because the concert had started and even a cough would be inappropriate. They couldn’t discuss something as monumental as this in public.
Where could they discuss it?
There was no approved course of action. All his experience had left him completely unprepared for this. He was encased in ice, preserved and separate, untouchable, unreachable—as Lizzie had complained he was all those years ago.
He registered without emotion that this strange state of non-feeling stillness must be the calm before the storm. When he blew he would take everything with him.
And then Thea stood up.
At first he stared at her, as if she were an automaton in a museum, safe behind glass, and he was a visitor showing a passing interest in one of the exhibits. If he felt anything it was curiosity—that he could look at his daughter and not know what to feel.
But then she lifted her bow and started to play.