Starting Over

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Starting Over Page 10

by Penny Jordan


  Jenny saw the look in his eyes and her own heart softened.

  'Jack, I do understand. I know how hard it must be for you.' She gave a small sigh. 'You and Annalise are so young and I know you won't believe me when I say this but...' She stopped. He wouldn't believe her and she wasn't sure that she believed herself that the pains of one's youth faded into insignificance with age and experience. Look how long it had taken her and Jon to come to terms with their youthful traumas.

  'I know how much things can hurt,' she told him gently. 'But, Jack, you really do have to put your studies first at this stage in your life.' She broke off and picked up one of his large hands in her own smaller ones.

  'Come downstairs and have some supper. We're probably better talking about all of this tomorrow when we've all had some time to sleep on it.'

  Jack blinked hard. What would she say if he were to tell her that he didn't want to sleep on what he had to tell her and his uncle Jon.... No, he didn't want to but for Annalise's sake he must.

  SAUL EXPELLED an irritable breath as Tullah walked into their bedroom from their en suite bathroom, deliberately refusing to look at him. She had been giving him the cold shoulder treatment all evening and he was becoming increasingly fed up with it.

  'Look, Tullah, you're over-reacting,' he told her.

  'Am I?' she challenged him. 'You go to see a woman, a woman you were once desperate to take to bed—without saying a word to me about your visit and you've got the gall to say I'm over-reacting.'

  'I went to see Olivia, my cousin,' Saul corrected her firmly, 'and I went to see her because I thought...

  because I felt...'

  'Yes?' Tullah pressed him acid sweetly. 'You felt...'

  'Oh, for God's sake, Tullah,' Saul exploded.

  'You're making an unnecessary melodrama out of the whole thing.'

  He had shaved and showered ready for bed and ludicrously almost, Tullah who never ever wore anything to conceal her body from him in the privacy of their bedroom, was wrapped from her neck to her ankles in a thick fluffy towel.

  To his own chagrin he discovered that there was something about the sight of his beautiful wife so clad that was having a disconcertingly distracting effect on him.

  'Yes, with hindsight, I should have rung and told you...discussed with you,' he corrected himself as he saw her expression, 'what I was planning to do. Yes, I acted on impulse, but impulse is exactly what it was, Tullah, and not some latent desire to resurrect a relationship with Olivia that never existed in the first place. I thought she might want someone to talk to, a shoulder to lean on if you like. I felt sorry for her, concerned for her. I like her....' He stopped.

  'Then why didn't you tell me you'd been to see her when you came in?' Tullah asked him reasonably.

  'Because I wanted to wait until we were on our own and the reason for that was...' Briefly he related to her what Livvy had told him about Jenny.

  'Livvy did what?' Tullah demanded. 'No wonder she feels reluctant to get in touch with Jenny.'

  When she saw Saul's expression Tullah relented.

  'It's okay,' she conceded, 'I'm being unfair. Livvy is going through a bad time. I saw how shocked she was today, too, when I told her about Maddy.'

  She started to walk across the room whilst Saul gazed distractedly and hungrily at her towel-clad body.

  He could hear in her voice that the crisis was over.

  'Friends?' he asked wryly.

  She smiled as she came towards him, reaching out to trace a small circle on his bare chest with her fin-gernail.

  'Maybe...' she allowed.

  'You can't really be jealous of Livvy,' Saul murmured thickly as he tugged at her towel.

  'You should be flattered that I still feel so passionate about you that I get jealous,' Tullah teased him.

  The towel gave way to the pressure of his fingers and dropped to the floor. Saul drew in his breath.

  'Mmm...so you feel passionately about me, do you?' He could hear his own voice thickening and feel his body hardening.

  'Sometimes,' Tullah agreed dulcetly.

  'Would now be one of those times?'

  He was reacting like a boy, all hungry heat and intensity, letting her run circles round him, Saul acknowledged humorously as Tullah leaned closer to him and murmured judiciously, 'It could be...'

  'Could...' Saul groaned hoarsely against the lips she had placed against his.

  'How will I know...' he began, but she stopped him, one hand on his chest as she firmly held him just far enough off her body so that she leaned forward to brush her hps against his skin, the hard tight points of her nipples brushed tantalisingly against his flesh, her other hand... Saul closed his eyes and groaned as he felt what her other hand was doing.

  'Oh, you'll know,' she was breathing in a soft whis-pery little voice between her kisses and as he felt his body responding to the silky stroke of her fingertips Saul decided that he had had enough of being teased and swept her up into his arms carrying her over to their bed.

  'Don't forget Nick's here,' Tullah warned him as she saw the look in his eyes.

  'Three bedrooms away.' Saul grinned.

  One of the first things they had had to learn to do as lovers had been to make love without waking his sleeping children.

  'So you don't really want Livvy, then,' Tullah asked him sensually as Saul's body settled down over hers.

  'Who's Livvy?' Saul responded huskily, before capturing one of the nipples that had been taunting him so provocatively earlier with his lips, lapping it with his tongue as he fought to hold off his own rioting desire, wanting to build Tullah's desire to match his own, but as she reached for his hand and guided it between her legs he recognised that she was as aroused as he was himself. As he entered her he told her thickly, 'I'll never love or want anyone the way I do you, Tullah... Never...'

  'You'd better not,' Tullah responded as she felt her body begin to shudder with the first strong contraction of her orgasm.

  MAX WAS DREAMING.

  He was running, or rather trying to run, along a vast white sandy beach but his feet kept being sucked down into the sand impeding his progress. Behind him he could feel the dark malevolent shadow that was pursuing him gaining on him. He could see on the sand the shadow of his unknown assailant and the knife he was holding in his upraised hand.

  Frantically Max tried to avoid the downward plunge of the knife, turning as he did so to fend off his attacker, but as he turned round he saw to his horror that Maddy was behind him and that the knife was aimed at her.

  In his sleep he cried out, a tortured sound, ripped from his throat at his own inability to protect her as the knife slashed down towards the unprotected mound of her pregnant body.

  Abruptly Max woke up reaching out to switch on the bedside lamp. His body was drenched in sweat and he was shuddering as viciously as though he were gripped by a life-threatening fever. The normally warm private cocoon of this bedroom Maddy had created for them was filled with the acrid scent of his own agonising fear.

  He looked at his watch. Two o'clock in the morning. The death hour. His body felt icy cold now but was still drenched in sweat. He had no need to question where the horror of his nightmare had come from.

  The setting had been that of his own vicious attack in Jamaica when he had travelled there in search of David, but with the substitution of Maddy and their baby as its victim rather than himself. Max buried his head in his hands.

  How well he could understand right now the feelings and needs that drove those who believed that they could bargain with fate. There was no way he could go back to sleep now. Getting out of bed he pulled on his robe. He might as well go downstairs and do some work. But as he headed for the bedroom door he knew the shockingly brutal images conjured up in his nightmare would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  As he reached for the door handle he closed his eyes and sent a silent plea to Maddy to get well.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  'HURRY UP, girls. We've got to lea
ve for school in five minutes,' Olivia reminded her daughters.

  'Where's Ally?' she asked as she realised that the dog wasn't in the kitchen.

  Without waiting for a reply she went to the back door and opened it calling the dog's name and then groaning in dismay as Ally came bounding happily towards her and she both saw and smelled just what the retriever had been doing. Sneaking into the field and rolling in cow manure was one of the most blissful and forbidden pleasures in Ally's life and the moment she saw Olivia's expression the retriever's waving tail dropped and she changed course, going straight to where the hose pipe was attached to an outside tap.

  'Oh, Ally,' Olivia reproached her helplessly as she followed her and started to hose her down.

  Five minutes later a chastened dog was standing in the laundry room whilst Olivia reached for one of her towels to rub her dry. As she grabbed the towel Olivia saw Caspar's fishing basket. The Barbour he wore when he walked Ally and went fishing was hanging just above it. A feeling of intense sadness and loneli-ness overwhelmed Olivia. Absently she reached out and touched the Barbour, a mist of emotion hazing her eyes. They had bought this jacket together, Caspar protesting that it was far too British for him and Olivia insisting that it suited him. They had almost not made it to the shop, one of the few remaining traditional stores in Haslewich which still had a half-day closing.

  A rare day off together had led to them staying in bed much later than usual—'Olivia had woken up to find Caspar teasing her by tickling her skin with a small feather that had escaped from the duvet. She had reached out to grab it off him so that she could retal-iate in kind and then play fight which had inevitably led to them making love.

  Afterwards Caspar had gone downstairs to return with tea and toast and then... The shimmer in Oh via's eyes became an aching blur as she remembered the slow sweetness of the second lovemaking which had followed the first. They had been so much in love then, their lives together so filled with that love. Where had it gone? When had it gone?

  'Mummy, we're going to be late for school,' Amelia called out from the kitchen.

  Angry with herself, Olivia banished her foolishly weakening memories giving Ally a brisk rub and an even brisker caution not to repeat her offence. Her

  'daily' would let the dog out when she came in later in the morning and as Ally tried to give her a remorse-ful lick Olivia chided her sternly, 'No, it's no use trying to get round me now.' But nevertheless she gave the retriever a forgiving pat before heading back to the kitchen where the girls were waiting for her.

  There was no way now that she was going to have time to go and see Jenny, she acknowledged as they all hurried out to her car; and deep down inside Olivia knew that a part of her was relieved to be able to put her ordeal off.

  Saul would never know just how tempted she had been to give in and weakly allow him to act as her go-between.

  As she drove towards the girls' school, she wondered how Maddy was and offered up a small mental prayer for her cousin-in-law's swift recovery.

  JACK FROWNED as he watched his aunt rushing round the kitchen. His uncle Jon had already left for work and Jenny had explained to Jack that she was going to Queensmead and that she didn't know when she would be back.

  As he watched her Jack asked her uncertainly, 'Aunt Jenny, is everything all right with you and Uncle Jon?'

  Jenny, who had been searching for her car keys, turned round to look at him.

  'Of course it is,' she said. 'What on earth makes you ask such a question?' she demanded, but in her heart of hearts Jenny already knew.

  What did surprise and disturb her, though, was that Jack had somehow picked up on the tension between her and Jon.

  'Nothing,' Jack shrugged, looking both awkward and slightly embarrassed. His aunt was normally so concerned for her husband's welfare, so happily at one with him and he with her and Jack had immediately been aware of the small prickle of discord between them.

  'Nothing's wrong,' Jenny reiterated more firmly.

  'We're just both a bit on edge because we're worrying about Maddy...and not just about Maddy,' she added pointedly.

  Her own increasing sense of anger and resentment towards Jon was something she herself couldn't explain. Trying to do so just made her feel even more guilty and angry and right now she didn't have time for the self-indulgence of such emotions. Part of the cause was Jon's growing relationship with his brother, of course. The new closeness growing between them made Jenny feel vulnerable and afraid; but these were feelings she didn't want to explore too closely, feelings she didn't have time to explore, she defended herself as she finally located her keys and picked them up.

  By rights one of them ought to be sitting down with Jack and finding out more about this quarrel he had had with Annalise. By rights she ought to be on her way to see Olivia right now... By rights Jon ought to be playing a far more supportive role in their family traumas instead of escaping from them to spend his time with David.

  AFTER HIS AUNT had left, Jack picked up the local paper and anxiously turned the pages until he found the Jobs Vacant columns. He had hoped to be able to borrow his aunt's car so that he could drive Annalise somewhere where they could talk more privately together. She was plainly terrified of telling her father what had happened, but sooner or later they were going to have to tell him and his own family as well.

  Wildly Jack wondered if it would be possible for them somehow to live on his grant if he could supplement it with a part-time job. Both of them and a baby as well? He clenched his hands in despair.

  'You CAN SEE your wife now, Mr Crighton.'

  White-faced with tension, Max hurried towards the door of Maddy's room. He had hardly been able to believe it when he had arrived at the hospital to be greeted by the news that Maddy's condition was showing a small improvement.

  'A very small improvement,' the consultant had warned Max, his face relaxing into an unexpected smile as he added, 'Your wife is an extraordinary woman. She told me that if it will help her baby she's prepared to lie without moving a muscle for the re-mainder of her pregnancy, but hopefully that should not be necessary. If her blood pressure continues to improve we could be talking about allowing her to return home just so long as she continues to rest.'

  Max had said nothing. The grim trauma of his nightmare still hung over him like a black pall.

  MADDY WAS LYING in the middle of her narrow hospital bed, her pale face framed by her hair, her eyes luminous with love and understanding as she looked at Max.

  He forced himself to smile as he reached for the hand she was holding out to him. In the few short days she had been in hospital it seemed to him that her already delicate bone structure had become even more fragile. He could circle her wrist so easily, her veins darkly blue beneath the whiteness of her skin. Almost clumsily he kissed the inside of her wrist, a give-away gesture if he had but known it, for Max was never clumsy and that he should be so now told Maddy just how concerned and upset he had to be.

  Her heart and the baby lying underneath it gave a nervous little flutter. If Max was concerned... But the doctor had assured her that her blood pressure was coming down.

  'How are things at home?' she asked him.

  'Fine,' Max told her and she could see that he meant it. 'The kids are missing you, of course....'

  'Mr Lewis said that if my blood pressure continues to come down I can see them later,' Maddy told him with a beaming smile. 'Try not to worry,' she begged him softly, 'It makes me feel so guilty....'

  Max couldn't bear to look at her. He was the one with the burden of guilt.

  'Poor baby,' Maddy crooned now patting her stomach, 'He or she isn't having a very good time.'

  Max's guilt increased. He couldn't bring himself to look at Maddy's stomach. For her sake he would have been prepared to sanction the termination of the new life she was carrying had he been permitted to do so, but he knew that Maddy herself would never have willingly countenanced such a course of action.

  'I'd better go before the
nurse comes in and throws me out,' Max told her gruffly. 'The doctor warned me that I could only have a few minutes with you.'

  Maddy frowned uncertainly as he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into her palm. She felt as though he were keeping something from her, as though he were keeping himself from her, she recognised. But the anguish and the love she could see in his eyes as he turned to leave her were real enough.

  As he walked towards the door, Max had to fight not to turn back and tell her how afraid he was of losing her and how haunted he now felt by his feelings towards their coming child. He felt as though his guilt would never leave him.

  'I'M SORRY,' Sara apologised automatically as she pushed open the bookshop door, realising too late that someone was about to walk in, her expression changing as she recognised that that 'someone' was Nick.

  'Oh,' she began stiffly, immediately starting to turn away, her body registering both her shock and her determination to distance herself from him.

  She hadn't seen him since their meeting on the river path. Not that she had wanted to see him. She hadn't wanted to think about him, either, or to continually almost obsessively dwell on the way he was making her feel, she reminded herself ironically, but that hadn't stopped her from doing so.

  'Sara.'

  An outside observer, hearing that charged, almost passionate, note in Nick's voice could quite easily have got totally the wrong idea, Sara decided grimly as she fought not to allow herself to react to it. Behind her someone tot-tutted as they had to circle round them to get into the shop but neither Sara nor Nick were aware of their disgruntlement.

  She had the most beautiful skin Nick had ever seen.

  He ached to reach out and touch it, to touch her. Her hair, thick and vibrant, hung sleekly to her shoulders.

  She was wearing a long camel-coloured coat; cash-mere he suspected, over plain black trousers and a fitted black top. She smelled of fresh air and a subtle delicate perfume that made him want to move closer to her.

 

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