The Pregnancy Affair

by Anne Mather

  The ladder leading up into the loft was still there and, after assuring herself that she was alone, Olivia couldn’t resist climbing it. For old times’ sake, she told herself firmly. To see if anything had changed.

  However, as she started up, she heard a rustle in the straw and she stiffened instinctively. Rats? she wondered uneasily. Or just a bird that had taken up residence in the roof. She sighed. Was she really going to let anything, bird or animal, frighten her away? Whatever it was, it would be far more frightened of her.

  She continued up, listening hard for any other sound, but she heard nothing. All the same, when she stuck her head above the hatch, she knew a moment’s apprehension. She’d seen enough horror films to be able to imagine the worst.

  But all appeared to be as it should be and she started down again. Only to come to an abrupt halt when she heard something scrape across the floor above her head. That was no bird, she thought. No rat, either. Her fingers tightened on the rungs of the ladder. She ought to go and report what she’d heard to Andy or one of the other men.

  But, come to think of it, she hadn’t seen any other men about the farm. Of course, she hadn’t spent much time on the farm since she’d come back, so perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. And calling Andy seemed like such a feeble thing to do. Who could be up there? Wouldn’t they have tackled her sooner if they’d intended her any harm?

  It was nerve-racking but, steeling herself, she started up again. ‘Hello there,’ she called, giving whoever it was plenty of warning if they wanted to escape. She seemed to remember there was a gantry at the other side of the loft where the hay had been loaded. It was at least an eight-foot jump to the ground, but if the intruder was desperate…

  Once again she reached the hatch, but this time she climbed up into the loft. It had occurred to her that it might be kids. What an ideal place to bunk off school.

  Olivia looked about her. ‘I know there’s somebody here,’ she said, trying to see beyond the tumbled bales of hay into the shadowy corners of the loft. ‘If you don’t come out, I’ll—I’ll—’ she had a spurt of inspiration ‘—I’ll go and fetch one of the geese to find you.’

  Not that that was remotely likely, she acknowledged. Although she wasn’t afraid to cross the yard, she doubted she’d have the guts to pick up one of the geese. But, hopefully, a kid might not know that. Particularly one who wasn’t familiar with birds or animals.

  There was no movement, however, and Olivia sighed. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘If that’s what you want.’ She pretended to take hold of the ladder. ‘I’ll be back—’

  ‘No, wait!’

  The voice was definitely that of a child’s, she thought with some relief. It had occurred to her that some vagrant might have spent the night in the barn. But, as she watched, a boy detached himself from the pile of sacks where he’d been hiding. A tall boy, but not much more than eleven years old, she thought.

  He stood beside the sacks for a moment, his face in shadow, only his eyes reflecting the light. Blue eyes, Olivia saw; resigned yet mutinous. As if he’d been expecting someone to come looking for him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  ‘Hi,’ said Olivia after a moment. ‘You do realise you’re trespassing, don’t you?’

  ‘How do you know?’ he demanded, and she realised she didn’t. Could he possibly belong to one of the families who lived on the farm?

  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked, but this time he didn’t answer her. ‘You don’t live on the farm, do you? You might as well tell me. I’m going to find out anyhow.’

  The boy’s chin jutted. ‘No, I don’t live on the farm,’ he admitted at last. ‘I wish I did. Anything would be better than living with my mum and the hulk!’

  Olivia gasped. ‘Don’t call your father the hulk!’

  ‘He’s not my father,’ retorted the boy at once, and Olivia felt a glimmer of understanding. Obviously his parents were separated, and he wasn’t happy with the arrangement.

  ‘All the same,’ she said, trying to think of something positive to say, ‘I expect they’ll be worried about you. Shouldn’t you be in school?’

  The boy shrugged, which she assumed was a yes, and leaned down to grab the handle of a backpack lying on the floor. As he did so, a ray of sunlight streaming through a crack in the wall illuminated his thin features, and Olivia felt her heart turn over.

  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked again, though she was fairly sure she knew his surname. Goodness! She moistened her dry lips. He had to be Joel’s son. And it all fit, she realised. Him, living with his mother; his parents separated—divorced! The only thing Joel hadn’t told her was that Louise had married again.

  ‘Sean,’ the boy muttered now, completing his identity. ‘What’s yours?’

  ‘Olivia. Olivia—Foley.’ She used the name deliberately, guessing he would know who owned the farm.

  He regarded her defiantly. ‘Are you going to tell Mum where I am?’

  Olivia sighed. ‘I’ve got to. I can’t leave you here. How long have you been up here anyway? What time did you leave for school?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Sean, low-voiced, and Olivia stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been up here all night?’

  Once again, Sean didn’t answer her, and she was left to fill the gaps herself. His mother must be desperate by this time. Losing a child was every parent’s nightmare.

  ‘I must tell your mother you’re safe,’ she said gently. ‘What’s her name?’ Not Armstrong, obviously. ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘I’d rather you told Dad,’ said Sean miserably, and once again Olivia’s heart flipped a beat.

  ‘Why?’ she ventured, aware that it wasn’t really anything to do with her, but assuring herself she was only trying to make sense of his answer.

  ‘Cos he didn’t believe me last time,’ the boy declared obliquely. ‘I told him I didn’t want to live with Mum and—and Stewart.’

  ‘Stewart?’ Olivia was fishing, and Sean took the bait.

  ‘Stewart Barlow,’ he said without thinking, instantly supplying the one name she didn’t have.

  Olivia absorbed this without saying anything, aware that Sean was regarding her with hopeful eyes. ‘Will you speak to my dad?’ he asked, twisting the strap of his backpack round his thin wrist. ‘Honestly, he won’t be mad at you if you don’t tell Mum first.’

  Olivia tucked her thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans. ‘So what’s your dad’s name?’ she asked, realising she wasn’t supposed to know who he was.

  ‘It’s Armstrong,’ said Sean much more cheerfully. ‘Joel Armstrong. He’s a teacher,’ he added, as if that carried more weight.

  A quiver of apprehension ran down Olivia’s spine and she shivered. She could hardly believe she was standing here, talking to Joel’s son, trying to decide what was best for the boy. She was fairly sure Joel wouldn’t like the idea of her being involved in his private affairs. But, in spite of that, she couldn’t deny a tremor of excitement at the power Sean had inadvertently given her.

  ‘Where do you live, Sean?’ she asked again, and the boy’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘You’re not going to tell my mum, are you?’ he blurted. ‘Oh, please, I don’t want to live with them any more.’

  ‘Why not?’ Olivia frowned. ‘They don’t—well, they don’t hurt you, do they?’

  ‘No.’ Sean was sulky. ‘I just don’t like my stepfather, that’s all.’

  Olivia considered. Bearing in mind her own feelings about Martin Dempsey, she could sympathise. But Sean was too young to make that kind of decision for himself. ‘Why don’t you live with your father, then?’ she asked. ‘You like him, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Sean’s face lit up. Then he hunched his shoulders as reality kicked in. ‘But he works at the university in Newcastle. Besides, Mum said I needed two parents, not just one.’

  ‘I see.’ Olivia was beginning to understand the situation.

  ‘But
Stewart’s not my parent!’ exclaimed Sean, his expression darkening with frustration. He broke off and looked at her, waiting for her to say something. ‘Please, don’t tell my mum.’

  ‘Tell me where you live and I’ll think about it,’ replied Olivia cautiously, and Sean expelled a heavy sigh.

  ‘Twenty-six Church Close,’ he muttered unwillingly. ‘But she won’t be there. She’ll be at work.’

  Olivia doubted Louise would be at work if she knew her son was missing. In the same situation, Olivia knew she’d have been doing everything in her power to find out where he’d gone. ‘Church Close?’ she said. ‘Is that in Bridgeford?’

  Sean nodded. ‘It’s one of the new houses behind the church.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘It’s a horrible place. I don’t like it,’ he added vehemently. ‘My dad’s house is much nicer. And it’s bigger, too.’

  ‘Is it?’ Olivia accepted his assessment, but she couldn’t help thinking it was the people who occupied the houses, not the houses themselves, that were determining his opinion. ‘OK,’ she said at last, deciding she owed Louise no favours. ‘I’ll ring your father.’ But when his face cleared, she went on warningly, ‘Be prepared. He probably knows all about the fact that you’re missing by now.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  JOEL was in the library at the university, doing some research for a paper he was writing, when his mobile phone trilled.

  Immediately, half the eyes in the room turned in his direction and he made an open-handed gesture of apology as he reached to turn the phone off. Whoever it was would have to wait until he finished what he was doing, he thought impatiently. Certainly none of his colleagues would think of disturbing him here.

  But he couldn’t help noticing the number being displayed as he flipped the mobile open. It was unfamiliar to him and conversely that troubled him. He was remembering what had happened a few days ago, and, although he had no reason to suspect this call had anything to do with his son, he gritted his teeth and pressed the button to connect the call.

  ‘Yeah,’ he muttered, barely audibly, though the pained looks he was receiving proved he wasn’t fooling anybody. Stifling an oath, he gathered his papers together and thrust them one-handed into his case, quitting the room with ill grace.

  ‘Joel?’

  Bloody hell, it was Olivia. Joel thought he’d have recognised her voice even in his sleep, but that didn’t make him feel any the less aggressive at having to take her call.

  ‘What do you want, Liv?’ he demanded, and even to his own ears he sounded belligerent. He half expected her to make some biting comment and ring off.

  But she didn’t. With creditable coolness, she said, ‘There’s someone here who wants to speak to you, Joel,’ and a moment later a timid voice said,

  ‘It’s me, Dad,’ and he knew he hadn’t been wrong in anticipating trouble.

  ‘Sean!’ he exclaimed. ‘Hell’s bells, why aren’t you in school?’

  ‘Because I’m not,’ said Sean defensively. ‘Can I come and see you?’

  Joel sagged back against the wall outside the library, dropping his book bag at his feet, raking impatient fingers through his hair. ‘Sean, I’m at the university. I’ve got a lecture in—’he consulted his watch ‘—in exactly forty-five minutes. I don’t have time to see you now.’

  Sean made no response to this but Joel heard a muffled exchange going on in the background. And as he listened, he realised something that he should have questioned right away. Sean was talking to Olivia! How had that happened?

  ‘Sean,’ he said sharply, resenting the fact that he couldn’t hear what they were saying. ‘Sean, where are you?’

  There was another pause, while frustration welled up inside him, and then Olivia spoke again. ‘I’d have thought you’d have had the grace to abandon your lectures while your son was missing,’ she said accusingly, and Joel felt as if the ground had just opened up beneath his feet.

  ‘What did you say?’ he asked harshly, but he already knew what she meant.

  ‘Sean didn’t go home last night,’ said Olivia flatly. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know.’

  ‘I don’t. Or rather I didn’t!’ exclaimed Joel, trying desperately to get a handle on the situation. ‘What do you mean, he didn’t go home? How do you know? Did Louise tell you?’

  ‘Louise, no.’ Olivia sounded impatient. ‘I haven’t spoken to Louise. Sean told me. And he insisted on me calling you first.’

  ‘Damn!’ Joel pushed himself away from the wall, unable to control his agitation. ‘So how long has he been with you?’

  ‘Well, not all night, obviously,’ retorted Olivia crisply. She paused. ‘I—found him in the barn about an hour ago.’

  ‘The barn?’

  ‘Yes, the barn. In the loft, actually. I suppose that was why no one knew he was there.’

  Joel groaned. Unwillingly the memory of their meetings, their lovemaking, in the loft came back to haunt him again. But evidently Olivia had no such sensibilities.

  ‘He apparently spent the night there,’ she continued evenly. ‘What I can’t understand is how you didn’t know he was missing.’

  Joel could have told her. It was obvious that when—if—Louise had discovered her son’s disappearance, she’d immediately assumed that once again he’d sought refuge with his father. But he hadn’t, and Joel’s blood ran cold at the thought of what could have happened to the boy.

  ‘Did he tell you this is the second time he’s run away in less than a week?’ he asked, though it was hardly an explanation.

  ‘No.’ There was another brief silence while Olivia absorbed this. Then, ‘Are you saying he came to the university to find you?’ and Joel blew out a weary breath.

  ‘To my house in Millford, actually,’ he said tersely. ‘Now do you see why I might not have been told what was going on?’

  ‘I’m beginning to,’ she answered. And then, in an entirely different tone, ‘What do you want me to do? Take him home?’

  Joel heard Sean’s vehement protests that she’d promised he could see his father and made an immediate decision. ‘Do you think you could bring him to Millford?’ he asked, aware he was going to have to get someone to cover his lecture. ‘I know it’s an imposition, but I could meet you there in—say, forty minutes?’

  Another pause, shorter this time, before Olivia said, ‘I could do that.’ She took a breath. ‘OK. Sean can give me directions. We’ll see you in about three-quarters of an hour.’

  * * *

  Although she knew Linda wouldn’t be very pleased that her plans were being disrupted, Olivia didn’t tell her what was going on. She guessed if Linda found out that Joel’s son had spent the night in the barn, she would insist on informing his mother. And while that was possibly the most sensible thing to do, if Louise was worried about her son, why hadn’t she been going from door to door, asking if anyone had seen him?

  Fortunately, Martin hadn’t come back yet so Olivia was able to collect her keys and unlock the rental car without incident. All the same, after reversing up to the barn and telling Sean to jump in the back and keep his head down, she felt absurdly guilty. This wasn’t her problem and she was all kinds of a fool for getting involved.

  It was still too early when they arrived at Joel’s house, but Olivia was happy to be away from Bridgeford. She knew no one in Millford; hoped no one would recognise her. And, besides, it gave her a little more time to talk to Sean.

  Joel’s house overlooked the village green; an elegant Georgian structure, it had windows on either side of an oak door, with a distinctive fanlight above. What had once been a coach-house now served as a garage, Sean told her. He obviously liked being her guide and proudly showed her round to the back.

  There was a football lying on the lawn and Sean immediately dropped his backpack onto the patio and started kicking the ball around. ‘Can you play football?’ he asked, seeing her watching him, and Olivia shook her head.

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ she said, laugh
ing. ‘I’ve got two left feet.’

  ‘What does that mean? Two left feet?’ Sean looked puzzled.

  ‘It means I’m no good at sports,’ explained Olivia wryly. ‘I go running instead. That doesn’t need any skill at all.’

  Sean started heading the ball. ‘Where do you run? Around the farm?’

  ‘No.’ Olivia realised she hadn’t had any exercise since she’d arrived in Bridgeford. ‘I used to live in New York. I did all my running there.’

  Sean stopped what he was doing and stared at her. ‘New York,’ he echoed. ‘That’s in America, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Have you been there?’

  ‘Not to New York,’ said Sean seriously. ‘But Dad took me to Disneyworld last year. That’s in Florida,’ he added, in case she didn’t understand, and Olivia made an admiring face.

  ‘Cool,’ she said. ‘And did you enjoy it?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Sean picked up the ball, cradling it in his arms. ‘It was great.’ He grimaced. ‘Stewart doesn’t like holidays. Not unless he can play golf all the time.’

  Olivia bit her lip, not wanting to get into family politics. ‘Do you play golf?’ she asked instead, hoping to divert him. ‘My—my ex-husband was very keen.’

  ‘You were married?’ Sean gazed at her. ‘Was that when you lived in America?’

  ‘I—Yes.’ She glanced about her. ‘Do you come here a lot?’

  It was the wrong thing to say. She knew that as soon as Sean’s lips turned down. ‘Hardly at all,’ he muttered gloomily. ‘Just some weekends, that’s all.’

  ‘That sounds like quite a lot to me,’ said Olivia cheerfully. ‘So what do you and your dad do? Go to football matches, that sort of thing?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ admitted Sean, still looking dejected. ‘Do you think he’ll be long?’

  Realising Joel’s arrival was playing on the boy’s mind, too, Olivia endeavoured to distract him. ‘Tell me about when you went to Florida. Did you see any alligators?’

  Sean brightened at once. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he said. ‘When we stayed in Miami, we went on a trip into the Everglades. We went on one of those hover-boats. It was really exciting.’