by Peggy Webb
She stepped into the scented water, feeling her cares vanish. To her relief the awkward voice was silent, and she was once more full of goodwill toward Luke.
She owned one good evening dress in a soft, green material that she wore with gilt accessories. Sonia then revealed that she’d once worked in a beauty parlor, and took over the management of her hair, brushing and curling it into an enchanting arrangement on top of her head.
Luke was enchanted. It was in his appraisal as she descended the stairs and took his outstretched hand. His eyes were warm and caressing, paying her silent tribute.
Because he thinks it’s all so easy. The awkward voice was back.
Shut up! she told it firmly. I’m going to enjoy myself tonight.
Darkness had fallen and they dined by candlelight. It was Sonia’s proud boast that she was the only person who could cook for Luke without reducing him to a nervous wreck, and Pippa soon found how she’d earned her reputation. The food was perfect. The wine was perfect. The atmosphere was perfect. Everything was perfect.
Too perfect. The voice again. It couldn’t be silenced because it came from part of her own mind, the part that was still set to Common Sense. This section had several buttons of varying degrees of intensity, ranging from Oh, Yeah! through Pull the Other One! to Don’t Take Me for a Fool! Right this minute Luke was racing up the scale with alarming speed, but she made a determined effort not to get upset. She really wanted to enjoy herself.
“I adore our daughter,” he said as he refilled her wineglass. “But if you were to ask me if I mind that she’s in someone else’s care tonight,” he held up his hand, “I cannot tell a lie. I’m delighted.”
“I am, too,” Pippa admitted. She took a mouthful of the confection Sonia had set before her. It was made of cream and ice cream, covered in a sauce made with wine, and she made a face of bliss.
“It’s mind-blowing, isn’t it?” Luke agreed. “I keep begging Sonia for the recipe, but she’s holding out on me. Her best offer is to leave it to me in her will. Have some of mine, it’s slightly different from yours.”
They exchanged spoonfuls.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“Just thinking how gorgeous you look in the candlelight.”
It was wonderful, he thought, how the years had changed her from a delightful girl to a spell-binding woman. Attractive had turned into beautiful, funny had become mysterious, and cheekily sexy was now sexually alluring. He was in a fever to make love with her. When their fingers touched over the spoons he felt a jolt of electricity that radiated over his skin until it homed in on his loins. He put his spoon down with a clatter and took a deep breath to steady himself. This wasn’t easy.
They had a ten-year-old child, for Pete’s sake, and he was trembling like a boy who’d never been to bed before. The thought of the coming night made him smile, adoring her.
“Come and look at the moon,” he said, wondering how much more waiting he could stand. He took her hand and drew her to the French doors. A subtle perfume came from her body as she walked, and the light played on her bare shoulders, making the temptation to touch them irresistible.
His lips followed his hands, tracing gentle patterns on her bare skin, while his fingers glided along her arms.
“Luke—” To her dismay her response was dead.
“Sweet Pippa,” he whispered, “kiss me, my love.”
He pulled her around and took her into his arms in a deep, passionate embrace.
And she froze.
She couldn’t help it.
“What is it?” he murmured against her lips. “Kiss me.”
“Luke—let me go—”
He did, but only a little. “Darling, what is it? You’ve been in a funny mood all evening.”
“Have I?”
“Yes, and I thought everything between us was perfect again.”
“Everything was never perfect between us, Luke,” she said in a calm voice that had a dangerous edge.
He heard it and felt a moment’s alarm but no comprehension. “What do you mean? Wasn’t it perfect all those years ago?”
“For you maybe, but I got my heart broken.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
His honest incomprehension was like a match to gunpowder. Suddenly the years rolled back and she was Pippa again, young, pugnacious Pippa, who would as soon quarrel with a man as love him, and quarrel with him the more fiercely for loving him. She broke free and turned her back on the alluring moonlight, walking firmly back into the room.
“I mean—I mean—well, I suppose I mean all those things you were saying at the airport today. All about how we couldn’t communicate at a distance. That’s what we did for years when you wanted to. Now you’ve decided otherwise, and instead of doing what I planned, I end up here.”
“But, darling, you couldn’t have just walked out on me.”
“You walked out on me!”
There, she’d said it, after eleven years.
He stared as if she’d said something in another language. “Only because you let me,” he said at last.
“You what? I did not ‘let’ you, you wanted to go.”
“You could have stopped me with a word. In fact, you could have stopped me by just staying there for five minutes. I told you I couldn’t go any farther. What I didn’t say was that I came all the way back to the barrier. I was so sure you’d still be there, and if you had been I’d have stayed. But not you. You walked straight off the minute I was out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, huh?”
She stared at him, aghast. It couldn’t be true, because if it was true it was unbearable.
“No,” she said, “I don’t believe that.”
“Hey, c’mon, when have I ever been a liar? I went back, and you weren’t there.”
“That’s right, I wasn’t there,” she said, breathing hard. “And you know why? Because you’d made it so clear that you were only around for a short time. Right from the start you were honest. You arranged everything so that I couldn’t complain, because you’d been so bloody honest.”
He’d never heard her swear before, and it shocked him so much that he could only stare at her, dumbfounded. He didn’t know this woman whose face was distorted with anger and unshed tears.
“So I didn’t complain. I did everything the way you wanted, the way everyone always does. I smiled and I didn’t tell you my heart was breaking at losing you, and breaking again because you were so glad to be going.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Shut up! Just for once I’m going to tell you how I really feel about something. This time I’m not pretending in case the truth drives you away. I’m telling you about my feelings, what I want, and if you don’t like it, then tough! I’ve spent too long loving you on your terms with nothing back, and I’m fed up. You didn’t want any ties, so I didn’t create any, and that’s been fine for you. But where did it leave me? Bringing up our child alone in a boarding house where nobody eats anything but chips.
“Oh, yes, you’ve been wonderful about money and you’ve stayed in touch, after a fashion. I tried to tell myself how lucky I was, because other men don’t pay a penny, or they pretend the child isn’t theirs. I wouldn’t let myself face how selfish you were really being, because money’s easy. You’re a generous man, as long as it’s only money, but ask you to give part of yourself, and you don’t want to know.
“And those charming e-mails you and Josie exchange. Anyone can be charming at a distance. Five thousand miles, and switch the machine off when it suits you.”
By now Luke had stopped even trying to reply. The world was collapsing around his ears, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was in anguish and it was somehow his fault.
She was gasping as though she’d been running, and the words seemed to have run down. She brushed a hand across her face, trying to hide the wetness on her cheeks. Her lips trembled, but he saw her swallow hard and force back the emotion.
> “Oh, forget it,” she said tiredly.
“No, I think you should say the rest of it, whatever the rest is. I guess there are some things in there that you’ve been waiting to say for years.”
“Yes, well, I thought I wanted to say them, but the time is past. What difference can it make now?”
He poured himself a brandy and offered her one. She took it in one gulp. “Say it,” he repeated. “You’d got as far as switching off the machine when it suited me.”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? I’ve had no machine to switch off. I’m there twenty-four hours a day, because that’s what being a parent is. It’s not just picking the nice bits. It’s the boring bits, reading the same story for the fiftieth time because it’s her favorite. It’s broken nights, and not being able to go out with your friends because she needs you, and always thinking of her first. Things you wouldn’t know anything about.
“It’s not just giving her presents and being told you’re wonderful. Sometimes it’s being told you’re horrible because you’ve said no to something she desperately wanted. You couldn’t stand being told you’re horrible.”
“I’m getting a taste of it now,” he said wryly.
“No, you’re not horrible. You’re selfish and immature and you’ve got enough charm to make people let you get away with it, so you know nothing about real life. But you’re not horrible. That’s why I’ve never said all this before. And maybe I should have done.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I was young and stupid and so much in love with you that it hurt. I longed to marry you, but I knew that word was like a red rag to a bull. That’s why I didn’t ask you to Frank and Elly’s wedding. I was so scared of losing you, and too ignorant to ask myself if you were worth keeping.”
“Thanks!” he said, really nettled now.
“Anyone who’s only interested in what he can have on his own terms isn’t worth the heartbreak. And I could have saved myself a lot of pain if I’d seen that before.”
Luke tore his hair. “I wish I knew where all this came from. A few minutes ago everything was fine—”
“No, everything wasn’t fine, not for me. I tried to believe it was, because it was so nice to be playing at romance and having you make a fuss of me. But the truth is that everything hasn’t been fine for eleven years.”
“You’ve felt like this for eleven years?” he echoed, aghast.
“That surprises you, doesn’t it? That really surprises you.”
“But I thought you were okay about it.”
“You thought what you wanted to think. Did you ever once bother to come over to England and see how I was managing?”
“You could have called or written—” He saw her murderous expression and backtracked hastily. “No, no, forget I said that.”
“For your sake, yes, I will forget it—just as you forgot me, until now it suits you to remember me again, and I’m supposed to jump into your arms. But I’ve moved on. I’ve had a child, and helping her grow up has made me grow up.”
“Pippa, please, can’t we talk about this calmly?”
“I don’t want to talk about it calmly. I want to shout and scream because then maybe you’ll understand what you did. I can live with you not bothering about me. What I can’t forgive you for is ignoring Josie and thinking you could be a good father at a distance—sending her e-mails and gifts that somebody else picked out, and believing—My God! You really believed that was all there was to it. I shouldn’t have had to bring her over here when it’s almost too late for me, and if you’d been a half-decent father I wouldn’t have had to.”
Luke had paled—the only sign that his rarely aroused temper had begun to flare. “I suppose I should be glad that you said all this now,” he said harshly. “Think how much longer we might have wasted. I’ve been fooling myself. I’m sorry. I know I was wrong in the past, but I thought I had a chance to make it right between us.”
“Well you haven’t,” she cried. “It’s too late! Years too late. How dare you do this to me now! Go to blazes, Luke! Go to perdition! Go to hell! I wish I’d never met you.”
Chapter Ten
Lying alone in bed that night, Pippa could have wept with frustration. Why had she let her temper get the better of her, and spoiled what might have been so beautiful? All she’d had to do was keep quiet.
But when had she ever been able to do that?
It had been so perfect. He was jealous, he was opening his arms and his heart to her. And she’ll hurled it all back at him in a rage. But that rage had been building up in her for years. She saw that now. She’d done what she had to do, and when the evening lay in wreckage around them she’d stormed out of the house.
She’d wandered the moonlit grounds for an hour before returning quietly to the house. There was a light in a downstairs window, and she could see him there, watching the garden for her return. She approached the French doors, letting him see that she was safe, then hurried on upstairs to her room. He hadn’t tried to come to her.
Now she slipped out of bed and went to the window, overlooking the pool. How inviting the water looked in the dazzling moonlight! How cool it would feel on her fevered skin!
She covered her nakedness with a terry cloth robe and crept quietly out into the corridor, pausing briefly outside the opposite door. Luke didn’t snore, as he would have been the first to assert, but he had a muted rumble that she thought she could just discern. She opened the door a crack. He was growling in his sleep like a contented lion. Silently Pippa closed the door and slipped away down the stairs.
At the waterside she paused, looking up a moment at the blind windows of the house. There was nobody to see her daring. Still wearing the robe, she sat on the edge. At the last moment she tossed it away and slipped, naked, into the water. The sudden sense of freedom was wonderful. She turned over and over, relishing the coolness against her skin and the feeling of peace.
Luke sat up suddenly in bed. Far back in his consciousness he thought he’d heard a door close. He got up and went hopefully to the door, but there was nobody on the other side.
Well, what did you expect, you jerk? After the earful of home truths she gave you, you think she’s going to come to your room? And she sure as hell doesn’t want you going to hers.
He stood still, listening, but the only sound was the soft rustle of the net curtains at the tall windows, moving slightly in the breeze, and a soft splash from the pool.
From the pool?
He parted the curtains of the hall window and looked out in wonder at the scene below. A mermaid was darting here and there in the water.
He was downstairs in a moment, a towel wrapped around his middle. Pippa was gliding away from him, oblivious. At the poolside he dropped the towel by the diving board and went out to stand on the edge. A slight creak of the board alerted her and she rolled over on her back just in time to see Luke, as naked as she, flying through the air. The gleaming surface broke into a thousand fragments as he struck the water and vanished.
She felt the disturbance as he neared her, and dogpaddled, waiting for his head to break the surface, then she turned and glided away. He came after her, caught up, but didn’t try to touch her, swimming silently by her side.
Suddenly she dived. For a moment he had a ravishing picture of a rounded, shimmering bottom breaking the surface before vanishing. He dived with her, and in the darkness below he touched her hand. But he retreated at once, and when she came up she couldn’t find him at first.
He was at the far end, his back to her, and this would have been a good chance to climb out and return to bed. Instead she joined him in the deep water and they swam silently, side by side. At this moment she could hardly believe that she was ill. She felt better and stronger than she’d done for ages.
At the pool’s edge they turned together and, as if by a signal, both changed to the backstroke, finding in movement the harmony that had eluded them in words. In the shallow end they stood, and he took her hand,
looking into her face. She looked back at him. They had come to the end of a confusing journey. What now?
His face was in shadow, but something told her that he was asking the same question, and everything depended on her answer. She let her head fall back so that her mouth was raised, close to his, expectant. Still holding her hand he leaned down and touched her lips with his own, as lightly as a feather. She swayed closer toward him, her thighs touching his, her breasts pressed against his chest. He put his arms around her, she wrapped hers around him, and they stood together for a long time, motionless, gleaming in the moonlight.
“Come back to me,” he whispered. “Please come back to me.”
This might have been the moment to apologize for her bitter words, but a wise instinct held her silent. It had all needed to be said, and perhaps, with that done, they could find a way forward. She said nothing, but rested her head on his shoulder.
“Come inside,” he said. “You’ll catch a cold out here.”
Upstairs he fetched fresh towels from the bathroom, brought them to her room and settled on the floor, drying her feet. From this angle she couldn’t see his face, and perhaps that was why he had chosen it.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked quietly.
“No.”
“Are you sure? I’ll drive you home, and I won’t trouble you. I got it wrong. Everything you said is true, but I thought I could make it right. I guess that was just my conceit.”
“Luke, stop.” She laid her fingers gently over his mouth. He took her hand, turned it and brushed the back with his lips.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I knew, really. I found my dream, but you didn’t have the chance to find yours, because I left you with all the burdens. I think it was when you said about always cooking chips that I realized what I’d done to you.” He kissed her hand again, and kept hold of it.
“Did you mean it?” he asked, in a low voice. “About wishing you’d never met me?”