Impossible Liaison

by Anne Ashby

  Bess immediately issued an invitation to visit. The smiling welcome on the old lady’s face as she opened the door had instantly disappeared, leaving her deathly pale and clinging to the doorframe for support.

  As Zoe now emptied her backpack onto her bed, she remembered how she’d had to force life into her shaking legs and jump forward to support the older woman. She’d found herself staring into a pair of blue eyes so like her own, her heart had almost jumped through the wall of her chest.

  Without a word being spoken, Zoe had been dragged inside and pushed into a chair. Moments later she’d been looking at a photo offered by a shaky hand. The obvious age of the print, and the different fashion and hairdo depicted by Zoe’s mirror image had set Zoe’s heart thumping even faster.

  As the older lady sank down into a chair opposite her, her eyes glued to Zoe’s face, Zoe had withdrawn her father’s photo from her bag and slid it across the table with shaking fingers.

  Zoe smiled across at the same photo now sitting beside her bed. That meeting had all been so surreal. Not a word had been spoken, but a bond had been established between her and her grandmother as that photo had been clutched to the old lady’s breast, silent tears flowing down her cheeks.

  The bond had continued to strengthen until Bess demanded Zoe come and live with her. Zoe’s response had gone from adamant refusal to nervous acceptance over the matter of weeks until now she was firmly established in this restored villa in Auckland’s North Shore suburb of Devonport.

  But meeting Bessina Matthews had given her so much more than a magnificent home to live in. Now she had an inner peace she’d never expected to know. But is that peace about to be destroyed?

  Zoe slumped onto her bed, clutching her arms around herself. Having found a happiness she’d only dreamed of, to lose it would be devastating. Unsteady fingers touched her trembling lips as she started tugging at her nails with her teeth.

  She flung her hand away from her mouth, disgusted with herself for retreating to the childhood habit. She was stronger now, in complete control of her life. No one frightened her anymore. But would the arrival of her cousin affect the contentment she’d found?

  She stuck out her chin. She was tough, wasn’t she? This wouldn’t be like before, because she wasn’t a kid anymore. The constant changing of homes and schools and friends had been dreadful because she hadn’t known how to deal with it. She’d had to pretend she didn’t care because she didn’t know what else to do to erase the pain of being rejected, again.

  But I’m not that kid anymore. No. I’m strong. This bloke isn’t going to change anything. Not if I have anything to do with it.

  Zoe roused herself. It was her turn to cook dinner, one of the many tasks she’d insisted upon sharing when she’d agreed to shift in with Bess. So far the arrangement worked well.

  “Connor’s arrival will be a good start for you to meet the family, Zoe. Break the ice, so to speak…”

  Zoe dropped her gaze to her plate. She had been enjoying her meal.

  “You must meet them soon. When do you think you’ll be ready?”

  The succulent steak now tasted like rotting sawdust in Zoe’s mouth. She couldn’t answer. Bess’s gentle but reproachful query added guilt to the mass of emotions churning inside Zoe whenever she considered the family’s reaction to her sudden arrival on the scene. She was trying to prepare herself to meet her two uncles and their families, like her grandmother wanted, but she wasn’t ready yet. It was too soon. Her relationship with Bess was so new and tenuous.

  She could admit it to herself. I’m too scared.

  Their reaction would be skeptical at best, but more likely suspicious and distrustful. They’d think Bess had been taken in by some sorry story.

  Am I strong enough to deal with whatever they might hand out? The inevitable meeting worried Zoe so much she ignored its imminent happening the best she could.

  In the meantime, she supposed Bess was right. Meeting Connor could be her practice run. She’d need to drum up some enthusiasm, or at least, having no other choice, pretend to be enthused.

  Who knows, I might even like him. Ha. Fat chance. Listening to Bess, he was God’s gift to the Universe. He wouldn’t enjoy associating with the dregs of society.

  ****

  “I’m sure you will like Connor, Zoe.” Bess brought up his name days later as they sat sorting through some family photos. “He’s a little quieter than you, more serious, but he’s such a nice boy.”

  Oh, puhleese. Zoe rolled her eyes while she pretended to study a picture of her great grandparents.

  “I saw that.” Bess playfully slapped Zoe’s fingers.

  “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

  “No, you can’t, and it’s about time you realized that, my girl.”

  “Yes, Granny.”

  “Don’t you dare call me ‘Granny.’ You’re not too big to put over my knee, you know.”

  Zoe’s eyebrows shot up and her lips twitched into a wide grin as she imagined the skinny one-sixty centimeter, seventy-year-old trying to force Zoe’s lanky one-seventy-five frame to do anything.

  The twinkle in the deep blue eyes opposite her faded a little as Bess clasped her hand. “Connor’s coming mustn’t upset things, Zoe. Since our first day, you’ve been so important.”

  “I know that.” Taking a deep breath she steadied her wobbling voice. “Y-you’ve been wonderful. F-for the first time, you’ve made me feel like I am someone, like I belong.”

  “No one could ever doubt you do.”

  Zoe swallowed her skepticism even as Bess tapped the photo of herself as a young woman—the one she’d shown Zoe that first day.

  “If you’re going to be upset having Connor stay, I’ll tell him to find a place—”

  “You can’t do that, Gran.” Zoe was horrified Bess had picked up her negative vibes about their impending guest. She’d tried so hard not to let them escape. “I know how much you’ve missed him.”

  “Eight years is far too long to be away. We thought it’d only be a short stint, but he kept getting more job offers.”

  For more money I bet. Zoe sniffed.

  “I’m so glad he’s coming home.”

  Zoe made no reply as Bess drifted off momentarily into a world of her own before her gaze returned to pierce Zoe. “I’m sorry I never considered how you might feel.” Shaky fingers tapped agitatedly against the table. “Upsetting you—when I offered—”

  Placing a finger against the older lady’s lips, Zoe smiled across at her. “Don’t take any notice of me.” Her smile widened. “I know you disagree, but I’d hoped to keep you to myself for a little longer, until I can get used to the idea of a family. I’m not ready to share you with anyone, much less someone you care about so much. I guess I’m just jealous.”

  To voice the words rolling around inside her head for days slipped everything into a much clearer context. My God. That’s it. I’m jealous!

  She sighed. I’ve ruined many happy hours of Bess’s company by bottling up envy of an unknown cousin. What a waste.

  Jealousy wasn’t going to cloud her horizon again. No matter how much it hurt, she’d welcome her cousin and try her best to like him—even though, for some reason, she doubted she would.

  “I so desperately want you to meet Warren and David, but I’ll wait until you feel more confident. Connor doesn’t need to know you’re my Tommy’s daughter if you don’t want him to. Although why you should worry in this day and age is beyond me. We’ll tell Connor you’re my boarder. It is the truth, after all.”

  Zoe shook her head and tsked at Bess’s grimace. Her grandmother had balked at accepting what Zoe insisted was a minimal rent, wanting to open her home to her granddaughter and give her everything.

  “I do think you’ll like Connor, Zoe. You have so much in common.”

  Bess seemed oblivious to Zoe’s shock. What on earth could I have in common with a wealthy doctor from a loving family? Shared blood aside.

  “Poor little boy,�
�� Bess murmured. Her shuffling fingers found another photo and pushed it toward Zoe. “Until he was ten, he had such a terrible—”

  The ringing telephone halted Bess’s words, and Zoe was left sitting alone.

  Looking down at the image in her hand, Zoe frowned. This pre-teen looked nothing like the handsome man adorning the mantelpiece in the living room. This photo depicted Connor as a sullen, angry boy, his dark hair hanging long and lank around his skinny face. The surly curl of his lip and the dullness in his eyes reminded Zoe of children she’d grown up with. Children without hope.

  Intrigued, Zoe flicked through more photos, and although she found many of her other cousins, as babies and small children, there were no young ones with Connor’s name on the back.

  She found a family portrait of her Uncle Warren’s family and frowned again. Connor did not feature. She’d learned he was the youngest of the family, but surely he wasn’t much younger than his next sibling—she checked the photo back—Michelle, who looked about thirteen.

  Her intention of querying this flew out of her mind when a flustered Bess rushed back begging Zoe to drive her to a friend’s who’d fallen and hurt herself.

  ****

  Connor Matthews looked out of the taxi almost without interest, his mind still shocked at the state of Warren’s health.

  It did feel good being back in New Zealand, he reminded himself as he plucked a hair from his immaculate trouser leg. He was looking forward to seeing Bess again, praying the years had been kinder to her than they’d been to her son.

  His nails dug into his palms as he thought of his foster father. Shaking his head, he cursed under his breath. The family’s silence on the matter had been motivated by love, and a desire he should fulfill his dreams, but he’d struggled with tears when he’d first seen Warren two days ago. Devastated at the progression of Warren’s multiple sclerosis since he’d visited eighteen months ago for Michelle’s wedding, Connor was furious at being kept in the dark.

  If he’d had any idea of the situation, he would have found a position in Wellington, where he could have been able to help. Even if his brother and sisters were close by, he should be there too, to help shoulder the burden of care for the man who’d saved his life. Maria’s assurance having him in the same country was good enough did little to combat the guilt he harbored at neglecting them for so long.

  He’d look in Auckland’s southern suburbs for a rental house, somewhere close to the airport so he could jump a plane and be with his parents within a couple of hours.

  Bess might want him to stay with her again, but Warren needed him more. Once he’d done his contracted year at the medical school, he’d find work in Wellington. He’d spent the last eight years away from family. Now was the time to begin paying back what he owed these people.

  First things first. I need a car, and then I can start thinking about where to live.

  He leaned forward, unable to contain his growing anticipation at seeing Bess. He wondered whether he’d be allowed to borrow her car. Probably not, he smiled. She used to guard Grandpop’s classic car like the crown jewels. To his knowledge, no one else had ever been allowed to drive that car.

  “It’s the next house on the left,” he instructed the driver. He noticed the neighboring house was being given what appeared to be a complete facelift. Not having seen his grandparents’ house since Grandpop’s funeral, Connor rolled his shoulders and wondered if Bess had managed to keep the picturesque villa maintained to the same standard his Naval Officer grandfather had pedantically insisted upon.

  A huge sigh of relief escaped as the gleaming paintwork came into sight. He couldn’t have handled another family member needing help but being too proud to ask.

  Flicking his gaze over the immaculate house, Connor caught his breath as he spied a scruffy youth in the driveway slamming down the bonnet of Bess’s pride-and-joy and jumping into the driver’s seat.

  He leapt from the taxi and ran to the car, opening the door and dragging the startled figure out and slamming him up against the fender.

  “Ouch. What—?”

  A gasp of surprise escaped the figure as Connor’s fists gathered up the slack material at the top of the old blue overalls and held them tight enough the youth could scarcely breathe.

  He lifted the figure until only the tips of his toes could touch the ground. The impotent wriggling stopped as Connor increased the pressure on the throat. “This isn’t your car,” he grated into the effeminate face.

  Oddly familiar blue eyes clashed with his as he shook the figure, dislodging the red baseball cap to expose messy, fair hair.

  “Is it?” He slammed the youth against the car again.

  “Shall I call the cops?” The taxi driver spoke from behind him.

  “Yeah, why don’t you do that? I’ll just keep hold of him here.”

  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Let me go, and I’ll explain.” The wriggle was accompanied by a firm shove against his chest.

  Shock at the pitch of sound coming from his captive loosened Connor’s hold, but he recaptured her arm and crowded her into the area beside the open door.

  “I’m working—”

  “Yeah. Sure you are.”

  “Oh, to hell with you.” The girl stretched behind her and started tooting the horn.

  Afraid taking his eyes off his detainee might allow her escape, Connor wasn’t aware of his grandmother’s presence until he heard her delighted shriek.

  “Someone’s trying to steal your car, Gran.” He maintained a tight hold on the girl’s arm, even as he hugged his grandmother to his side.

  “What?” The old lady’s mouth dropped open and an incredulous expression widened her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Con. That’s Zoe.”

  The warmth of his grandmother’s smile toward the girl started warning bells clanging in his mind.

  “She’s changing Merc’s oil for me.”

  “Oh, is she?” Connor’s lips tightened at the sanctimonious expression shot his way before the girl pulled out of his loosened grasp. Ducking under his arm, she disappeared into the open garage.

  “Exactly who is she, Gran?” Connor’s gaze followed the slim figure, wondering how he could ever have mistaken it for a young man’s, even in those oversized coveralls. “Who does she work for? Are you sure you can trust her with Grandpop’s car?”

  “Of course.”

  Bess took his briefcase from the taxi driver and assured him stacking Connor’s cases on the lawn beside the driveway was fine. She impatiently waited for Connor to pay the driver and grab his cases before bustling him into the house.

  “Come away inside. It’s so good to see you again. You look wonderful. You’ve got so much to tell me. I want to hear about everything you’ve been doing. But first, how’s Warren holding up?”

  Dropping his bags from suddenly lifeless fingers, he caught the worry in Bess’s voice. He hugged the old lady to his chest. “Oh, Gran. Why didn’t someone tell me? He was fine at Michelle’s wedding. It was such a shock to see him in a wheelchair.”

  “Maria said he’s been having a rough time. It’s the heat, of course. He’ll be much better once the weather cools down a little.”

  “I get so angry just thinking about him. Why’s this happened after all the good Dad’s done, all the people he’s helped?” His fist bashed into the wall, bouncing off the hard wood. “He doesn’t deserve to be a cripple.”

  “Warren’s not a cripple, Con.” Blue eyes stared into his. “Some days he might not get around as well as others, but he’ll never be a cripple.”

  Connor paced around the lounge, ignoring all the familiar sights. “If I’d known he had MS during my training, I could have specialized—”

  “Stop that, Connor,” Bess interrupted with a firm, no-nonsense voice. “You followed your heart. Warren would hate being the cause of you doing anything less.”

  “But I could have helped, could—”

  “Not unless you found a cure, boy,” Bess interrupted sadly.

>   Then she smiled, the bright happy smile he remembered, her eyes sparkling like some mischievous child. She touched his arm. “Warren’s fine, he hates us worrying about him. Better we pretend there’s nothing wrong with him; after all, that’s what he believes. His legs are a bit wonky and his hands shake a lot.”

  She shrugged. “Try telling him he should slow down a bit.” She chuckled as his face obviously showed he’d done that exact thing. “Bet he bit your head off.”

  “Quicker than a shark.”

  They shared a worried smile. Nothing or no one could help Warren deal with his affliction as admirably as he was handling it himself.

  That wasn’t why Connor was so incensed. It was all the other things needing doing. All the ordinary things Warren used to do around the house and garden that weren’t getting done now. That’s what I should have been there to do.

  His brother and sisters all had families, lives of their own. He was free of family responsibilities. Helping Warren and Maria was his duty.

  “I’ve had to put you in this room, Con. I know it’s quite small, but Zoe has—”

  “Zoe?” Connor swung around, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the old lady. “You mean that—that person is staying in your house?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  Connor wasn’t taken in by Bess’s nonchalance as she straightened the already-straight curtains. She was hiding something.

  “Who is she exactly?” He endeavored to keep his voice level. Perhaps she’s the granddaughter of a friend or something.

  Bess’s refusal to quite meet his eyes as she answered heightened Connor’s concern. “She’s boarding with me. Helps me out sometimes, keeps me company.”

  “How long have you known this Zoe?” Connor barked.

  “Oh, not long.”

  “How long?” Connor took Bess’s arm as she angled to leave the room. “Where did you meet her?”

  “She came to the door and—”

  “She what?” Connor grated. “You allowed a stranger to hoodwink you into inviting her to stay?”