Burning with Passion

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Burning with Passion Page 7

by Emma Darcy


  Caitlin shuddered at the thought. She had to find out what was happening.

  Her mother came downstairs to supervise what was going on in the kitchen. After all, her reputation was at stake tonight and everything had to be done perfectly.

  ‘You look lovely, Mum,’ Caitlin quickly complimented her, desperate to avert a cross-examination.

  Besides, her mother did look lovely. She wore a lilac silk dress, artfully draped to soften the heavier curves of her mature figure. She was still a very good-looking woman, no age pouches around her blue eyes, her skin relatively unwrinkled even on her neck. She wore several gold chains that emphasised her femininity. Her hair was dyed to a light golden blonde and fluffed around her face in a very becoming style. It took years off her actual age.

  Unfortunately, Caitlin’s compliment did not bring forth a smile. Her mother was clearly far too tense to smile. ‘Where’s your father?’ she demanded to know. ‘He should have been back by now.’

  ‘He’s coming,’ Caitlin defended.

  ‘He probably doesn’t dare come back,’ her mother said broodingly. ‘Not even to deal with you, Caitlin.’

  ‘He’ll be here, Mum,’ Caitlin replied with far more confidence than she felt.

  ‘Why is Dad coming back to deal with Caitlin?’ Michelle asked.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Caitlin between clenched teeth. She picked up a tray. ‘You could take these hors d’oeuvres into the lounge-room now, Mum. I must dash upstairs and change into something decent, Michelle. Won’t be long.’

  Caitlin bolted up the stairs and into her parents’ bedroom to use the phone there. She rang The Last Retreat. The only information she could elicit was that the two men had left the lodge and the unit was vacant.

  She deliberated about ringing the two local hospitals. She suppressed the impulse. If either her mother or Michelle picked up the phone downstairs while she was speaking to a hospital, pandemonium might break out.

  Besides, David had said he’d be back. Caitlin clung to the fact that David was rigid about keeping to a schedule. Even when he was almost bursting with desire, as he’d been this morning, he would not let anything delay him from doing what he was set on doing. Her father would have told him what time they had to be here for the party. David would surely get them both here. It was built into his character. For the first time in her four months with him, Caitlin found comfort in David’s rigid schedule-keeping.

  She scooted into the bedroom set aside for her and hunted through the wardrobe for something to wear. The suitcase she had packed was still in her Mazda. At the rate time was passing, she couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Apart from that, she had to make good her excuse for coming upstairs.

  The wardrobe mostly contained clothes that were years old and out of fashion, but occasionally useful during weekend visits to her parents. Caitlin sighed as she thought of the smart blue cocktail dress Michelle was wearing. She pulled out a black crêpe pantsuit that would have to do and found an old pair of bronze strappy sandals that could go with it.

  There was no time for proper make-up. She didn’t have any anyway because of the missing suitcase. She found a tube of red lipstick in a drawer and dashed some on. It gave her a bit of colour.

  She hurried back to the kitchen where she found her mother instructing Michelle that carrots could be added to the menu. There were quite enough of them. It sounded ominous.

  Her mother swung around to target Caitlin. ‘You were gone a long time.’

  ‘Cramps in my stomach,’ Caitlin muttered.

  ‘Nerves,’ her mother diagnosed. ‘And no wonder with all the trouble you are causing, Caitlin.’

  ‘What trouble is that?’ asked Michelle.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Caitlin snapped. ‘Where’s your husband, Michelle? He’s supposed to be looking after the drinks.’

  ‘Trevor will be here as soon as he’s settled the children with the babysitter. I’ll say one thing for my husband against all others. He is totally dependable.’

  ‘So is...’ Caitlin bit down on her tongue. She didn’t want to mention David in front of her mother.

  Eileen Ross muttered dark thoughts.

  Trevor came in, making the most timely entrance he had ever made! He was a local solicitor and inclined to a sense of his own importance. He took the floor immediately, demanding to be shown what he had to do to please his mother-in-law. Obviously he would not have willingly done something so menial for anyone else.

  Eileen led him to the lounge-room. Caitlin grabbed the dishes of nuts and olives and followed them. It was barely twenty minutes before the party was supposed to begin. Caitlin desperately hoped David hadn’t taken the concept of spontaneity too much to heart. Dependability was much more important right now.

  Trevor took over the bar. He was dressed for the part in black trousers, white shirt, black bow-tie, red cummerbund. He exuded jovial confidence in carrying out his mother-in-law’s instructions. Caitlin placed the nuts and olives on top of the bar, and was glancing around to see what else needed to be done when she heard the thrum of a powerful engine coming up the driveway to the house.

  ‘David’s Ferrari!’ she cried in an ecstasy of relief.

  ‘Who’s David?’ Trevor asked.

  ‘Unfortunately, you’ll find out,’ her mother snapped. ‘Very soon.’

  ‘He’s probably pretty fast if he has a Ferrari,’ Trevor remarked reasonably.

  ‘Worse,’ Eileen Ross declared with disapproving asperity. ‘He’s depraved.’

  ‘Where’s the Ferrari?’ Michelle asked, coming in with a cheese dip and crackers.

  ‘Dad’s here!’ Caitlin declared triumphantly. ‘I told you he’d come. They’re here now.’

  An expectant silence fell in the lounge-room. Caitlin saw her mother stiffen. There was no time for a big showdown—thank heaven!—but the reception was obviously going to be frosty. For both parties. David was no more welcome than Caitlin’s father. Her father had kept her mother waiting so long...Caitlin hoped they had a very good excuse for whatever had happened. She crossed her fingers.

  They heard the front door open, footsteps on the slate floor of the foyer, the low murmur of voices.

  ‘We’re in the lounge-room, Dad,’ Caitlin urged them on, breaking some of the nerve-tearing suspense.

  Silence.

  Caitlin could almost hear her father taking a deep breath. Her own heart was thumping. She expected his was, too.

  More footsteps, and...the door opened.

  Caitlin couldn’t believe her eyes. Her father...and David...both dressed in dinner suits! Her father, who’d never worn a formal dinner suit in his life! And he looked...so distinguished and handsome...tears blurred Caitlin’s eyes.

  To complete the stunning contrast to his appearance this afternoon, his face was cleanly shaven, his grey hair neatly cut and groomed, his shoulders back, his carriage straight, his whole bearing and demeanour full of dignity and a readiness to meet whatever challenge he had to meet head-on.

  In one hand he held a beribboned corsage of white rosebuds and baby’s breath. In the other he held a white basket containing three beautifully wrapped gifts. An elaborate St Valentine’s Day card was closely attached to the basket.

  His first words were magnetic, focused completely on his wife. ‘I love you, Eileen.’

  ‘Henry...’ Her mother’s voice was almost unrecognisable, weak and wavering with a flood of feeling.

  He took a tentative step forward. ‘There’s never been any other woman in my life except you.’

  ‘Oh, Henry!’ Her eyes shone with tears. She clasped her heart with trembling hands.

  It gave Henry Ross courage. He began to walk slowly towards his wife. ‘You look beautiful tonight, Eileen. I wish to always remember you like this. You’re more beautiful than when we married thirty years ago.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you so handsome, Henry,’ her mother said, somewhat awed, certainly surprised, and almost girlishly shy.

&n
bsp; He lifted his arms as though offering her the gifts, then stunned them all by beginning to sing in his clear tenor voice which had been unmatched in these parts for many a long year.

  ‘Drink to me only, with thine eyes,

  And I will pledge with mine...’

  He moved closer, his arms enfolding his wife, drawing her to him, his eyes caressing hers as he sang on in a softer, more intimate tone.

  ‘Or leave a kiss but in a cup

  And I’ll not look for wine.’

  The last word lingered on a throb of deep feeling. Eileen bit her lips. Her throat moved convulsively. She had been rendered speechless, her eyes swimming with tears.

  Henry took a deep breath. ‘About today, Eileen,’ he said pleadingly. ‘I wish to explain. I had trouble with my heart after we put Dobbin down. I didn’t want to alarm you...’

  It instantly evoked alarm. ‘Henry, you should have told me. You should have gone to the hospital immediately...’

  ‘You know I don’t like hospitals, Eileen. People die in hospitals.’

  ‘Henry,’ her voice wobbled, ‘you’ll be the death of me.’

  ‘I love you, Eileen.’

  ‘I know that, Henry.’

  ‘After I rested for a while, I felt better. I made Caitlin promise not to tell you about my heart because I realised then you’d be angry with me for not telling you.’

  David had to have coached him, Caitlin thought. Her father had been miserable, lonely and depressed. He would never have thought up such an array of excuses by himself. But there was a solid ring of truth and substance to everything he was saying. It was all deliberately slanted to smooth things over. It was working. Privately, she blessed David for producing this little miracle. It was worthy of a master magician.

  ‘You shouldn’t have hid it from me, Henry.’ All the hurt wasn’t gone, but it was going.

  ‘Please forgive me, Eileen. I dressed up for you and...’ he eased back so he could present his gifts to her ‘...I hoarded all the money you gave me to buy this for you.’

  Her mother had said he’d been hoarding money. Maybe he was telling all the truth, Caitlin thought dazedly.

  ‘I want you to wear it all so everyone will know that after thirty years, you are still the bride of my heart,’ her father declared.

  ‘Oh, Henry!’ Her hands unclasped and slid up over his shoulders.

  They hugged and kissed and Eileen Ross was so overcome with emotion she didn’t even think of how her lipstick might get smudged.

  Caitlin was deeply moved. It didn’t matter that David had had a hand in orchestrating the whole scene; the timing and the clothes were perfect. Her mother was pleased, God was in his heaven, and all was right with the world. The feeling that flowed between her mother and father was genuine. Despite all their differences, they loved each other.

  She glanced back at David. There was a satisfied smile on his face. He caught her glance and gave her an enquiring look, as if to ask, ‘Have I done what you wanted?’

  She smiled back at him.

  It was a mistake.

  David instantly took it as an invitation and started walking purposefully towards her. Caitlin forgave him a lot for bringing her mother and father back together again, but she was well aware that, to David, it was the means to an end that had absolutely nothing to do with her parents’ happiness.

  To Caitlin’s mind, there was a great deal more to be sorted out with David before she could happily consent to a resumption of their relationship. In fact, she was not going to resume what they’d had before. It had to be different. Both of them had to work at making it different.

  The problem was, she didn’t know if what David had been doing this afternoon was for the sake of expedience—to get her back at his side—or whether he was truly prepared to reassess where they were and aim for something better. Something closer. Something far more meaningful to both of them.

  Her eyes flicked back to her parents. Love that could surmount every difficulty. That was what she wanted.

  ‘Eileen...’ Her father was lifting his head from their embrace. ‘I’m not going to say...’

  Caitlin produced the most raucous cough her throat could manage on instant notice. It was a desperate measure to stop what was surely coming. Her father was about to destroy everything by saying he was not going to say he was sorry. The successful outcome of David’s coaching had gone to his head! In the triumph of the moment, he was assuming that his wife would succumb to anything!

  Caitlin knew better.

  The cough succeeded in distracting her father and drawing his attention to her. Fortunately he still held her mother in his arms so Caitlin was only in her father’s line of vision. She made a dramatic roll of her eyes, drew her finger across her throat in a swift slicing motion, bent her head and used a chopping action with her hand on the back of her neck. Her father got the message.

  Her mother lifted her head in adoring enquiry, ‘What were you not going to say, Henry?’

  ‘I’m not going to say you’re anything but wonderful, Eileen,’ he said lamely, then struck on some inspiration. ‘But I would like you to take off those gold chains because...well...’ He drew back to offer her the basket of gifts. ‘I looked it up in the library, Eileen, and for a thirtieth wedding anniversary...’

  ‘Pearls! You bought me pearls, Henry?’

  The eager delight in her mother’s voice meant the critical moment of danger had been successfully bypassed. Caitlin breathed a sigh of relief.

  David came up behind her. His arm slipped around her waist. ‘Your father got the message,’ he whispered in her ear, his breath warm and disturbingly erotic.

  ‘Only just,’ she muttered back. Her father could be the very devil, once he got a bee in his bonnet.

  ‘You have to take the credit,’ David murmured. ‘Your skills at sign language are definitely improving.’

  She trod on his foot to keep him silent, to stop the tantalising brush of his lips close to her ear, to let him know he couldn’t take too much for granted. Not with her. Not any more.

  He gave a small grunt, removed his hand from her waist.

  Caitlin removed her foot from his.

  ‘OK,’ said David. ‘I got that message. You don’t like compliments.’

  Caitlin stood there in a dilemma.

  David deserved a reward for what he had accomplished. She wanted to give him a reward. The difficulty was that the reward David wanted, and the reward she was prepared to give, were not one and the same thing.

  She turned to him, her eyes seeking his in a painful plea for honesty. ‘I do like compliments, David. As long as there’s no payment expected for them. As long as they’re truly felt. And I thank you, with all my heart, for what you’ve achieved for my family tonight.’

  ‘I thought only of you, Caitlin. I did it for you,’ he replied, his eyes a steady blaze that burned into her heart.

  ‘Why?’ she whispered.

  ‘I want to keep you with me,’ he answered simply.

  She felt disappointed in his reply. She had wanted more from him. But perhaps it was too soon to expect more. At least they were talking to each other in a way they had never talked before. It was a start towards something better.

  She looked back at her parents. Her father was fastening a string of pearls around her mother’s throat. Thirty years, Caitlin thought. How long does it take? she wondered. Where would she and David be in thirty years?

  How long did he want to keep her with him?

  For what purpose?

  CHAPTER NINE

  CAITLIN could not have been more satisfied with the way the party was going.

  Her mother was floating on a cloud of happiness, basking in her husband’s adoration, showing off the pearls he had given her to all the guests—a lovely pearl ring and ear-studs as well as the necklace—and glowing with pleasure in the shower of congratulations and good wishes.

  Her father, intoxicated by his new-found power to woo his wife, continued to woo her w
ith a gallantry that was the envy of all her friends.

  David dispensed French champagne which had suddenly and mysteriously appeared from some unknown source. The pleasure of such unexpected extravagance added bubble to the party. He had certainly thought of everything. For her, Caitlin reflected with heady pleasure. He had done it all for her.

  Trevor, impressed, did his best to cultivate a friendship with the man who owned a Ferrari and obviously dabbled in French champagne. He found that being the barman might still be classified as menial work in his own classification of important jobs, but it did have its compensations.

  The only person who was not happy was Michelle. ‘What on earth got into Dad to act like that?’ she remarked peevishly to Caitlin. ‘It’s not at all like him!’

  ‘Perhaps he remembered how it once was,’ Caitlin answered, her voice soft with the secret yearning to have the same feeling between her and David one day.

  ‘He’s got Mummy all moonstruck. She’s behaving like a silly little girl.’ This clearly did not meet with Michelle’s approval.

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Caitlin queried.

  ‘Who’s to know where it might lead?’ Michelle grumbled.

  Caitlin observed her sister keenly, recollecting the smug air she had thought suspicious earlier. ‘Is that a problem for you, Michelle?’ she asked, wondering how much her sister had contributed to the breakdown of communication between her mother and her father.

  ‘Of course not!’ Michelle snapped. ‘I just think it’s all very...ridiculous!’ Her eyes narrowed on Caitlin. ‘Are you and David Hartley at the bottom of it all?’

  ‘I wish we were, Michelle,’ Caitlin said with a warmth that showed her heartfelt approval of the romantic reconciliation.

  Michelle dropped that line of conversation and they were too busy to talk much for a while. The twenty-eight guests were seated with their host and hostess at the long, beautifully decorated table that had been set up in the rumpus room. David and Trevor circled the table with bottles of wine, pouring what was requested by the guests. Caitlin and Michelle served the pumpkin soup.

 

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