* * *
By the time Sam walked up to meet her mother at the bus stop her nerves were in tatters. Barbara said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes as she gave Sam a shrewd once-over. “I nearly had a heart attack when I heard on the news how you and Mac were tied up by those thugs.”
So much more of significance had happened to her since the incident, Sam had almost forgotten the awful situation at the farmhouse. “It was frightening, all right. But as you assumed, those two boys were more confused and scared than violent.”
She picked up her mother’s small suitcase. The bus driver called a cheery goodbye as Sam and Barbara walked off. Barbara was keen to hear all about how they’d been treated, so Sam gave her a censored version as they walked home. Once inside the house Barbara kicked off her shoes and sank onto the sofa with a sigh.
Sam made them tea and when Barbara had the drink in her hand she asked, “How did things go with Mac?”
Sam gazed into her cup—of course she might have known her mother wouldn’t ignore that subject for long. “In what way?”
Barbara laughed shortly. “You might fool yourself, my girl, but you can’t fool your old mother. How can you be so much in love with the man yet still be unable to forgive him for hurting you so long ago?”
Sam blinked. “You know what happened to us?”
“Not in detail. I do know something catastrophic upset you on your seventeenth birthday that haunts you still. It stops you facing up to your love for Mac.” She settled back and sipped her tea. “Tell me about it. Perhaps I can advise you what is the best avenue to take.”
Once Sam began, the story spilled out. She wondered why she’d kept it inside so long.
When she’d finished and her voice trailed off Barbara stunned her by saying, “Clare really has little to do with this, you know.”
Sam couldn’t believe she’d heard right. “She has everything to do with it.”
Barbara shook her head, leaning forward intently, “What this is about, my darling daughter, is trust. You can’t forgive him for what you see as his betrayal. Even if he did have a brief affair with her, which, I hasten to add, I don’t believe for a minute, your future is with him.”
Sam chewed on the inside of her mouth. The cup and saucer rattled as her hands shook.
“One of the reasons he took Clare into his practice was to allow him time off to pursue you in Melbourne, you know? He went wild when he heard you might be getting engaged. He was about to go over to the mainland when the accident happened. And Robert...” She broke off with a small sob.
Sam put her cup down and rushed to kneel at her side, grasping her mother’s hands. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been wrapped up in my own selfishness and forgot what a rotten time you’ve had of it.”
Barbara’s smile looked forced as she patted Sam’s hand. “That’s all right. What are mothers for?”
Sam swallowed then said softly, “Clare implied that her baby was Mac’s.”
“What rot.” Barbara’s tears dried as she muttered a curse. “The woman’s mad.”
“That’s what Mac said.” Sam managed a weak smile.
Barbara wagged a finger. “If you work it out how far gone she is, it’s easy to see that Mac wasn’t near her when she must have conceived. He was here. That woman is stirring up trouble. More fool you, Sam, for taking it in. I’ve always suspected she’s unbalanced. This proves it.”
“That may be, but you must see why I still have doubts. She did seduce Mac once.”
Barbara brushed back Sam’s hair, much as she’d done when Sam was a child. “He’s denied that, hasn’t he?” Taking Sam’s chin in a palm, she said gravely, “Even if it’s a fact, you have to understand that when he went away to university he was mature. You were little more than a schoolgirl. For all he knew you could have found a boy your own age while he was away. Your trouble has always been that you put far too much store in your childhood fantasies.”
The phone rang, successfully putting an end to their conversation. It didn’t stop ringing for the rest of the day; everyone eager to hear about their escapade. Mac was right; they were celebrities in a small way.
At least it helped to divert Sam’s thoughts. But still it nagged at the back of her mind. Mac and Clare had been lovers, she was sure of it, even if the baby wasn’t his. Sam had to admit to being a trifle naïve, but deep down she harbored a spark of sympathy for Clare. Loving Mac, as she herself did, it was easy to see how Clare could be just as obsessive.
As Sam and Barbara finished their evening meal Mac arrived, looking tired and drawn. With a yawn he settled on a chair at the dining table and stretched his arms above his head. Sam’s eyes fixed on the flexing muscles, unable to look away.
“Would you like something to eat?” Barbara asked.
He shook his head, his intent look making Sam feel hot. He wore a pair of faded denim shorts and a T-shirt, and thongs on his feet. She blushed and turned her attention to taking out the empty plates.
“No, but I’d die for a coffee. I’m whacked.” Sam went to pour his drink, trying desperately to ignore the wave of longing that swept over her.
“Did you have to put up with much harassment?” he asked. Sam left it to her mother to explain about the phone calls. When she put his cup in front of him he asked softly, looking right into her eyes, unblinking, “Would you come for a walk with me?”
How could she refuse?
Twilight was fast descending as they went out. He linked his fingers with hers as they strolled along the deserted street. A few birds kicked up a fuss as they settled in the trees. Neighbors were out watering their gardens and now and then Sam and Mac had to dodge the spray.
After a long tension-filled silence he asked, “You’re not really going back to Melbourne, are you?”
Sam shrugged. “I can’t see any reason not to, can you?”
“You can’t be serious?” He tugged her to a standstill, staring at her in the fading light as if she was a complete stranger. Then his expression shifted from bewilderment to comprehension. He dropped her hand, rearing back. “Christ, what a fool I’ve been.” Thrusting his hands in his pockets he swore beneath his breath and her heart missed a beat when he looked her up and down as if seeing her for the first time. As if seeing her as she really was.
“You want to go back. All this time I’ve been under the misguided impression you belonged here. That Clare was the city type and so different to you. But you want to marry this hot-shot city guy with his string of shops and his flashy lifestyle, don’t you?”
“No.” Sam put a hand to her mouth. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” His nostrils flared and his breathing became erratic as he continued to stare at her. “How you must have laughed at me. The original country bumpkin having the audacity to think he could claim your love. How did I compare to him in bed, huh?”
Her mouth went dry. She must explain. “You’ve got it so wrong, Mac.”
But he didn’t seem to hear. “What have I got to offer you?” Desolation filled every syllable. “A simple boy from the backwoods. Simple and unrefined, that’s me.”
Sam lifted her hands in appeal. “I’ve never slept with Peter. You were the first man to make love with me. You must know that.”
“Must I?” His face was rigid, his whole stance as unforgiving as a rock. “How would I, an ordinary country bloke, be able to tell the difference between a virgin and a sophisticated woman of the world who has tasted finer fruits than I could ever offer?”
“Don’t be absurd,” she spluttered. “You’re talking nonsense. And you’re far from a simple country boy, and we both know it.”
With a sudden start she realized they were standing on the footpath near the war memorial where they’d met so long ago. This is where it all began, and ironically it looked very much as if it was all going to end here.
How she longed to be able to put back the clock, to be an uncomplicated child again.
As if he’d read her thou
ghts he said softly, “Our trouble is we put each other on pedestals. Both your mother and I treated you as if you were a rare hothouse plant. It would have been better by far if I’d put you over my knee and spanked you back then. For years I’ve castigated myself for not trying harder to convince you of my innocence. Sure, I’ve made mistakes. I admit I did go to bed with one or two girls at college. They were willing, and I’m a male with all the normal urges and frailties.
“Anyone can make mistakes; the secret is to not repeat them. You couldn’t find it in you to forgive. Not that I did anything to merit your forgiveness, and God forbid that Sam Frank would care enough about someone to hear their side of the story.”
He dragged in a huge breath. “For all her faults Clare can bend with the storm and spring back. But you lack that ability, Sam. You refuse to give an inch.”
Sam crossed her arms across her chest where a pain sliced through her. Was this what it felt like to have a broken heart?
He abruptly turned and began to retrace their steps. Sam stared at his back, and then followed him, her legs shaking. Perhaps there was still time to salvage something from this mess.
But when he stopped outside the shuttered news agency and said, scorn in every word, “You never gave Robert a chance, poor bugger,” she knew it was too late by a long way. The blood drained from her face and she raised a hand as if to touch him then withdrew it when she saw the look in his eyes.
Did he hate her? She began to protest but he stopped her by saying, “Barbara should have reprimanded you for being a selfish brat.”
“That’s not fair,” she whispered, tears burning the backs of her eyelids. Blinking them back she turned to stalk off, but he put a restraining hand on her arm. The touch burned her skin.
“No, hear me out.” He dropped his hand when she halted. “Robert wasn’t entirely to blame for the failure of the business. Barbara was as much at fault as him. Rob tried to make the most of a bad job and if you ask me the reason he was killed was partly due to the strain he was under.”
“Are you saying I was to blame for his state of mind?” She reeled back. This was a side to Mac she’d never thought to see. Ruthless and cynical.
“No, of course I’m not. But he was worried and depressed about being forced to sell the shop and wasn’t concentrating that day.”
He stared along the street, and let out a huge sigh. “The other driver involved said Robert’s car was careening all over the road, making it impossible for him to miss it. If he’d swerved he would have gone into the gully himself. But as always Barbara wanted to shield you from the harsh reality, so didn’t give you all the facts.”
“How was I to know?” she gasped, horrified. But what was harder to take, was the man she’d worshipped was looking at her as if he found her detestable.
“No, well...” His huge shoulders lifted in a shrug filled with desolation. “We were both to blame, Barbara and me. She never wanted you to see that life isn’t always a rosy place, and I guess I always wanted to protect you, too. But it’s past time for you to see we all have faults.”
“I can’t believe you have such a low opinion of me.” A stark sense of loneliness and sadness sliced through her. Without his high regard for her she felt as if a life-line had been severed and she was dangling over a cliff.
“Not true, Sam. You drew me like a siren. You had no idea what you were doing with your responsive body, and I used to daydream about you like a lovelorn adolescent. I couldn’t think straight at times when you were near and all the time you were growing into a selfish little bitch whose main concern was gaining everyone’s undivided attention.”
Sam met his piercing stare, cut to the soul at his harsh words of condemnation. “You’re wrong.” She wasn’t sure if he heard her plaintive cry or not.
“Clare’s neurotic, we all know that. She’s always been jealous of you and threw herself at me simply because she could never believe I didn’t want her. All the other guys fell over themselves to take her out and perversely she only wanted what she couldn’t have. Me. You chose to believe her rather than me.”
Sam couldn’t bear the ice in his expression. “But you were my knight in shining armor, and you hurt me.” Her limbs shook as she clenched her fists. “I was consumed with jealousy over her.”
“That was all very well while you were a teenager, it could be forgiven. I can understand how it must have hurt. But, God, Sam, you’ve had plenty of time since to get things in their proper perspective.” A lump had formed in her middle, constricting her breathing. There was a chilling finality about the way he spoke. His eyes held a bitterness she’d never seen before. “I thought I’d dispelled all your doubts when we made love, but by returning to Melbourne, you’re admitted you can see no future for us. I won’t beg.”
He turned away, waving absently when a passing motorist tooted his horn. “I have some pride.” Facing her again he said, “I’m a mere mortal, not some knight. Go back to the city. Back to your city guy who obviously has more to offer than I do. Marry him, and be damned. I really don’t think I like the woman you’ve become.”
Sam swayed, feeling nauseous and dizzy. Without thought her hand came up to touch him, but he stepped out of reach. His glance was hostile as he said curtly, “Don’t.” Mutely she followed him back to his vehicle. He opened the door and turned to gaze at her. “Let me get on with my life. You go get on with yours.”
Sam tried to form words but her brain had stopped functioning. Silently, she watched as he got in and turned on the ignition. She would remember the look of pain and disillusionment on his face all of her days. With a skid of rubber on bitumen he disappeared. She watched the tail-lights until they disappeared and the dust settled.
She had alienated him irrevocably. Never had she felt such pain; not even when she thought she’d been betrayed all those years ago. And she’d brought it all on herself. He saw her as a callous bitch, a scheming gold-digger who thought nothing of sleeping with one man while promised to another. She wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and never get out—to fade away into nothingness. A place where the pain would not touch her.
But her mother was in the house—she had to go back in and face her. Except she couldn’t. Coward that she was, Sam evaded her mother’s shrewd eyes and ran to her bedroom, where she flung herself across the bed with a sob of despair.
Hours later she still shivered with misery, but eventually sank into a haunted sleep. A nightmare tortured her; where Mac left her to sink into a mire while he rode off into a haze with a triumphant Clare behind him on the saddle. Waking in a cold sweat, her sheets tangled about her body, Sam stared up at the shadowy patterns on the ceiling.
She’d lost him forever, and it was all her own doing. He was right; had always been right. Once before he’d advised her to grow up. She knew she’d never wanted to; had wished to stay in that safe predictable world. Mac had taken over from her father, both men wrapping her in a cocoon of love, pampering her. Content to stay in that insular world where she was spoilt rotten, she’d fought against being thrust into the adult province where people had faults. Mac had been hoisted onto a pedestal all right, high above those who committed sins.
He’d had the effrontery to step down from that high peak and succumb to temptation. That just proved how shallow she was—she’d been unable to spare him the generosity of letting him explain his actions.
Lonely Pride Page 25