by Anne Mather
‘Does she?’ Olivia felt even queasier at the thought of all those calories. In recent years she’d become accustomed to eating sparingly, always watching her weight for any fluctuation, living on tuna fish and what her sister would call rabbit-food. The idea of sitting down to a lunch of steak and kidney pie horrified her. Even empty, as she was, she knew she’d never get it down.
‘It looks as if you could use a few extra pounds,’ remarked Joel, slowing at yet another crossroads, and Olivia wondered at his perception. It was as if he’d known exactly what she was thinking.
‘Oh, does it?’ she said, her incredulity giving way to resentment. ‘I suppose you prefer women with more flesh on their bones.’
Joel chuckled. He actually chuckled, and Olivia was furious. ‘You could say that,’ he agreed, and she badly wanted to slap him. She knew she was looking good—by New York standards, at least—and it was mortifying to have him laugh at her.
‘And I suppose your second wife was everything I’m not,’ she flung at him angrily, uncaring at that moment how peevish she sounded. ‘Well, where I come from women care about their appearance. We don’t all want to be milch cows!’
Joel sobered. ‘No, I think you proved that when you got rid of our baby,’ he retorted harshly, and she realised that for the first time she’d caught him on the raw. His jaw clamped shut for a few moments, as if suppressing another outburst, but when he spoke again he had himself in control. ‘Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
Olivia swallowed, remembering she’d promised herself she wouldn’t say anything if she saw Joel either. But she couldn’t stop herself. ‘For the record,’ she said unsteadily, ‘I didn’t get rid of our baby. At the risk of repeating myself, I had a miscarriage. Believe it or not, these things happen!’
Joel’s tanned fingers tightened on the wheel and she saw his knuckles whiten at the pressure he was putting on them. ‘Whatever,’ he said flatly, but she knew he didn’t believe her now any more than he’d believed her before. ‘We’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll drop you off and then I’ve got to get back to college.’
Olivia blinked. ‘To college?’ she echoed blankly.
‘In Newcastle,’ he agreed, without elaborating.
‘You’re at college?’ she persisted, staring at him incredulously.
‘I work at the university,’ he corrected her drily. ‘I gather Linda didn’t tell you that either.’
Olivia’s jaw dropped. ‘No.’
In actual fact, Linda hadn’t mentioned Joel at all. That was why she’d been so surprised to see him at the airport. She’d assumed she’d have to meet him sooner or later at the farm and that Linda was being tactful by putting off the evil day.
‘Have I shocked you?’
Joel had relaxed again and Olivia knew she had to say something or run the risk of appearing envious. She’d never gone to university, although she had eventually taken an economics degree at evening classes.
Not that she’d ever needed it. By the time she’d graduated, she’d already been working in a large London estate agency. Her aptitude for the job, and the fact that she got on so well with the clients, had accelerated her climb up the corporate ladder. At age twenty-six, she’d already been earning a high five-figure salary, with added perks like her one-bedroom apartment in Bloomsbury.
Of course, she reflected, she’d given it all up when Bruce Garvey asked her to marry him. Despite her success at work, her life had seemed empty, and she’d found she missed her friends and family and the life she’d had in Bridgeford. She’d even missed Joel, though she’d been sure she’d never forgive him for walking out on her.
‘I expect your parents were pleased when you left the farm,’ she said at last, hoping she didn’t sound as bitter as she felt. She moistened her lips. ‘I’m sorry. I assumed you were still working there.’
Joel shook his head. ‘I couldn’t stay after—well, after what happened.’
Olivia’s eyes went wide. ‘You mean, my father asked you to leave?’
‘Hell, no.’ Joel gave her a satirical look. ‘Not everything revolves around you, you know. I did what I should have done years ago. I took my qualifications and got myself a degree in IT at Leeds University.’
Olivia blinked. ‘IT?’
‘Information technology,’ he said patiently. ‘Computers, for want of a better word.’
Olivia pressed her shoulders back into the soft leather of the seat. ‘I see.’ She paused. ‘I’m glad things have worked out so well for you.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Joel was sardonic now. ‘Two failed marriages and a child that might or might not have been aborted. Life’s been peachy, Liv. So how has it been for you?’
CHAPTER TWO
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, prob
ably 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 b
ehind 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.