Cara shook her head.
‘If you don’t go to sleep within the next few minutes I’ll be the one who turns into a pumpkin—or, worse still, the wicked stepmother!’
The twins giggled as they settled underneath the covers.
‘I like your stories,’ Katie said, throwing her chubby arms around Cara’s neck affectionately.
‘I love that you’re our aunty again,’ Kirstie said, doing the same.
Cara swallowed the lump in her throat and tucked them both in.
‘I love being your aunty,’ she said with a husky catch in her voice. ‘Goodnight.’
The party was still in full swing downstairs. Cara slipped in to the lounge room, where coffee and liqueurs were being served. She refused offers from both Patrick and Leon and instead found a vacant seat next to Great-Aunt Milly.
‘I’m drunk,’ Great-Aunt Milly said baldly. ‘I’ve had far too much brandy, and after the champagne with the speeches I’m well and truly pickled.’
Cara just smiled. The sharp bird-like gaze before her gave absolutely no indication whatsoever of inebriation.
‘I never could hold my liquor,’ Great-Aunt Milly continued as Cara settled herself in the chair beside her. ‘I’m sure it was invented by men as a means to get women to do what they want.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Cara conceded.
Great-Aunt Milly looked over her with an eagle eye.
‘I saw you with the children,’ she said. ‘You’re a natural.’
Cara gave a tentative smile.
‘They’re nice kids.’
‘They’re brats,’ Great-Aunt Milly stated emphatically. ‘Especially that little madam Katie. You did well to get them under some sort of control. God knows, Patrick and Sally haven’t managed to do it so far.’
‘She’s definitely outspoken.’ Cara gave her a teasing glance. ‘But isn’t that a Rockcliffe trait?’
Great-Aunt Milly gave her a hooded look from underneath eyebrows that hadn’t seen a pair of tweezers for decades.
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ The dark eyes twinkled with amusement. ‘I’ve always thought a bit of spunk was a good thing.’
‘It will certainly help her in the long run,’ Cara said, looking down at her hands.
‘Yes,’ Great-Aunt Milly replied, her look long and encompassing. ‘It will.’
Finally the grand old house began to empty of its guests, leaving only the family members who were staying the night to do a general tidy-up before collapsing into bed.
‘I’m bushed,’ Jan Rockcliffe said, flopping into a vacant chair. ‘I don’t remember our wedding day being as exhausting as this!’
‘Our wedding day was forty years ago,’ Byron’s father pointed out. ‘We were a whole lot younger and energetic back then.’
‘You two go to bed,’ Byron said, giving his mother a hand out of the chair. ‘We’ll do a quick tidy and the rest we’ll leave for Mrs Timsby in the morning.’
His parents didn’t refuse.
Patrick and Sally soon followed, and Leon and Olivia made a token effort to collect a few glasses before disappearing as well. Jason had already tucked Fliss into bed, and after helping to wash a few things he too made his departure.
Cara wondered if everyone’s exit was for her benefit. Perhaps Byron’s family thought she needed some time alone with him? But the very last thing she wanted was to be left in his company, unprotected from the temptation of his arms. Even knowing what she now knew about his relationship with Megan didn’t stop her traitorous body from responding to the proximity of his. She’d been fighting it all evening.
The brush of his arm against hers now, as they each reached for a stray glass or plate, the clash of their gazes across the room, brief but telling, the fragrance of his aftershave as he moved past her…
‘That’s enough,’ he said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘We’ll leave the rest till morning. It’s nearly two a.m.’
Cara shut the dishwasher and dried her hands on a teatowel before she faced him.
‘I’ll go to bed, then,’ she said. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Cara?’
Her hands momentarily stilled on the teatowel she was hanging against the cooker.
‘Yes?’
‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’
She gave him a speaking glance.
‘You have your own bed,’ she said, injecting sarcasm into her tone. ‘Surely you don’t require mine as well?’
His look was steady, but she could see latent anger lurking in the depths of his dark eyes.
‘I made a promise to you earlier,’ he said. ‘We have some unfinished business, if you remember.’
‘I haven’t forgotten, but I have changed my mind. Have you forgotten? This arrangement is off. Finito. The baby-making enterprise has been grounded.’
His eyes followed the agitated movement of her hands as she spoke. Cara thrust them by her sides and glared back at him defiantly.
‘Why must you constantly throw obstacles across the pathway of what we both want?’ he asked with bitterness. ‘You wanted me this morning. It would take me less than five minutes to make you want me again.’
Cara lifted her chin a fraction.
‘How long does it take with Megan?’
Byron’s mouth tightened.
‘So we’re back to that, are we?’
‘It’s proving to be rather a stumbling block, yes,’ she said with heavy irony.
He gave an exasperated sound at the back of his throat.
‘Nothing I say will change what you think, will it?’
She shrugged.
‘I’ve heard it virtually from the horse’s mouth.’
‘Megan?’ he frowned.
‘Let’s say she’s been marking her territory rather convincingly.’
‘That’s just Megan,’ he said. ‘She’s very protective of my family.’
‘And you in particular.’
He didn’t deny it.
‘Megan was there for me when you left,’ he said after a slight pause. ‘She listened while I raved and she soothed while I raged. I’ve done the same for her. She hasn’t had much luck with relationships either.’
Cara hated hearing how Megan had inveigled her way into his life. She couldn’t help thinking it had been deliberate, a specific plan to make him forget about her altogether.
‘What a pity you didn’t hook up with her in the first place,’ she said. ‘You could’ve saved yourself both money and grief, and pleased your whole family in the process.’
‘My family have done all they can to welcome you, both in the past and now, and yet you persist in imagining they’re against you.’
‘Aren’t they?’
‘Of course not. It’s not easy for them, I admit. When a couple goes through a divorce it’s like dropping a stone in a pond. The ripples are far reaching. If they’re a little guarded, particularly my mother, it’s only because they don’t want to see me hurt.’
‘I’m sure Megan will help to salve any subsequent hurt you might feel once I get out of your life.’
‘You are not going out of my life.’ His tone was adamant.
‘You might like to run that alongside Megan before you make it common knowledge,’ Cara said. ‘She has what is commonly referred to as a prior claim.’
He gave another frustrated sigh.
‘Go to bed, Cara. You’re acting like one of my nieces when they’re overtired. You’re not making any sense and it’s pointless arguing with you.’ With that he turned and left the room, leaving her to contemplate the empty room alone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CARA spent the rest of the night fighting with the bed-clothes. It was impossible to sleep when her mind was crawling with images of Megan and Byron’s expected child. She tossed the pillow aside and turned to stare at the wooden panels of the closed door, her eyes smarting with tears she refused to allow to fall. She knew if she gave in to what she was feeling inside there would be no turning back. It had
taken her this long to pull herself out of the abyss of despair that had accompanied her ever since she’d left Byron.
In keeping with her dour mood, the sun rose weakly in the east, shrouded by thick, turbulent clouds that carried a threat of thunder. Cara listened as the house gradually came to life, the children’s voices carrying in the long halls.
She took her time showering, before making her way downstairs to where most of the family were gathered for breakfast.
‘You look positively hungover,’ Sally was saying to Byron as she poured coffee into his mug.
Byron gave a grunt that could have been either denial or agreement. Cara was conscious of several Rockcliffe glances pointed her way as she took the only vacant chair—next to Byron. His eyes flicked over her before returning to the dry toast in front of him.
‘Coffee, Cara?’ Sally hovered with the percolator.
Cara nodded and wished everyone would stop staring at her. She could feel a tide of colour steal into her cheeks as she caught the tail-end of Patrick’s studied gaze resting on her.
‘It was a great party,’ Olivia said, breaking the tense silence. ‘Great-Aunt Milly certainly enjoyed herself.’
‘Excuse me.’ Byron’s chair scraped backwards, and, tossing his unused napkin aside, he left the room.
Cara could feel every pair of eyes on her.
‘Toast, Cara?’ Jan made a valiant effort to ease the tension in the room.
‘No, thank you,’ she said getting to her feet. ‘If you’ll excuse me…?’
‘Are Uncle Byron and Auntie Cara having a fight?’ Katie asked in a stage whisper to her mother.
Cara didn’t stay to hear the reply. She went back to her room and methodically packed her things, lingering over the task to fill in time.
There was a gentle tap at the door and Cara opened it to find Fliss standing outside, her expression remorseful.
‘I’ve come to apologise for last night,’ she said, stepping into the room.
‘There’s no need…’ Cara began.
‘No, I was out of line.’ Fliss sat on the bed with a sigh. ‘It’s this pregnancy—it’s wreaking havoc on my emotions.’
‘It’s all right.’
‘Don’t be so gracious,’ she said. ‘I’ve spent most of the morning rehearsing this, so don’t let it go to waste.’
Cara couldn’t help a small smile. Fliss had always been a perfectionist, and she could easily imagine her spending hours working and reworking her speech.
‘OK, then,’ Cara said. ‘Fire away.’
Fliss inspected her hands before lifting her gaze to Cara’s.
‘You might not believe this, but I was truly devastated when you left Byron. I missed you, and blamed myself that somehow I’d caused trouble.’
‘No—’
‘I was young and used to being the centre of attention with three big brothers. I wasn’t used to sharing any of them, especially Byron. I took up so much of your time in those early days of your marriage. We all did. It’s a Rockcliffe thing, I guess. Jason’s always telling me how suffocating it can be.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘It is suffocating,’ Fliss said. ‘Everyone knows everyone’s business and there’s no privacy. I’m so used to it I can barely see it happening, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. You didn’t stand a chance. We took over your life, trying too hard to make you feel part of the family when what you really needed was time alone with Byron.’
‘Fliss, this is—’
‘No, let me finish. Byron is so unhappy, and so are you.’
‘He has Megan now.’
‘She’s not right for him.’
‘Surely that’s up to them to decide?’ Cara said.
‘No, it’s up to you.’
‘It has nothing whatsoever to do with me.’
‘It has everything to do with you,’ Fliss insisted. ‘Byron needs to sort out the past before he can move on to the future. So do you.’
‘Is this what you learnt in your degree?’ Cara asked tightly. ‘To speculate on people’s private lives and neatly sort out all their hang-ups?’
‘Cara, I’ve spent enough time around broken people to recognise your unhappiness. You’re stuck in a deep groove of pain. It’s as if you think you deserve to suffer, punishing yourself because of past mistakes or because of what your mother did to you.’
‘I don’t wish to speak of my mother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to finish packing.’
‘Cara, you can’t hide your head in the sand for ever. Byron told me—’
‘He had no right!’ Cara swung around angrily to glare at Fliss. ‘He knows nothing of what it was like. Nothing. And I don’t want to ever discuss this again. Please leave.’
‘Cara, please.’ Fliss’s eyes shone with tears. ‘Don’t throw away what could be your last chance at happiness, what could be Byron’s last chance.’
Cara’s mouth tightened. Her hands were balled fists by her sides and her hazel eyes glittered with anger.
‘Go back to your perfect life, Felicity, and leave me alone. You’re so like Byron it’s unbelievable. You think you can wave a magic wand and start again, but life isn’t like that. I’ve suffered. I’ve really suffered. And the only way I can survive is to lock it away where no one can see it. You have no right to meddle in my life. No right at all.’
‘I have every right,’ Fliss said in a placating tone. ‘I care about you.’
‘Do you?’ Cara asked bitterly. ‘Do you really? Or is this just about playing happy families the Rockcliffe way?’
‘Cara, please—’
‘I don’t wish to continue this discussion.’
‘You still love him, don’t you?’
‘Get out!’ Cara gritted her teeth.
‘You love him, but you won’t allow yourself to have him because you’re so intent on punishing yourself. What did you do, Cara? Why do you hate yourself so much?’
Cara’s face was white with pain. She clenched and un-clenched her fists and fought against the wave of nausea that threatened to consume her.
‘Tell me, Cara.’ Fliss’s tone was gentle but determined. ‘Tell me.’
Cara turned away, her slim back a rigid wall against the probe of Fliss’s words.
‘Tell me, Cara.’
‘I can’t.’
‘You remind me of a princess locked up in a tower,’ Fliss said. ‘But the irony is the key is on the inside, with you. Only you can unlock that door and taste freedom. No one else can do it for you.’
‘I can never be free.’
‘Only because you don’t want to be. People live through the most appalling things and survive. Don’t bury yourself alive in the rubble of your mother’s dysfunctional behaviour. You’re cheating yourself out of your biggest victory—rewriting the past and not allowing the pattern to continue.’
Cara thought about Fliss’s words. How she so wanted to rewrite the past. But it was too late. Byron had already achieved his goal of a child and had no further need of her. His dark mood earlier seemed to suggest he was already cutting her out of his life.
‘I appreciate your concern,’ she said hollowly. ‘I really do. But this isn’t a fairy story. It’s real life. I have to live with the consequences of my own and other people’s behaviour, as we all do. I have to do it my way.’
‘Even if it ruins your life in the process?’ Fliss asked.
‘That’s no one’s business but my own.’
Fliss got up off the bed with a sigh.
‘I’d better go. Jason will be wondering what’s happened to me.’ She turned at the door, her hand hesitating on the knob. ‘Promise me you’ll think about what I said? About the key being on your side?’
Cara gave her a sad half-smile.
‘The key was thrown away a long time ago,’ she said.
The barbecue planned for lunch had to be abandoned when storm clouds exploded over the garden in flashes of lightning and deafening thunder. Mrs Timsby bustled a
bout, cooking meat under the large kitchen grill and deftly tossing salads, while the family gathered for drinks in the library.
Cara sat to one side, trying not to look at Byron. He seemed to be avoiding her, taking a seat on the other side of the room rather than the one next to hers. She pretended she hadn’t noticed but inside she felt raw. She knew she should never have come with him to Melbourne. Too many wounds had been reopened.
‘What time is your flight?’ Sally asked as she perched on the arm of Cara’s chair.
‘Five,’ Cara answered.
‘Tell me about the house. Byron said you’re decorating it for him.’
‘It’s a very grand house,’ Cara said. ‘Nice harbour views. You know Byron—nothing but the best.’
Sally smiled.
‘It’s great that you’re doing it for him. Quite frankly, I didn’t think you would under the circumstances.’
‘Byron can be very persuasive at times,’ Cara commented wryly.
‘Yes, like the rest of the Rockcliffe males.’ Sally laughed. ‘Mind you, I’m not complaining. Patrick’s the best thing that ever happened to me.’
She took one of the nibbles off the coffee table and turned back to Cara.
‘So, are you going to patch things up with him?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Byron and you.’ Sally took an audible bite of her cracker.
‘I’m afraid there’s someone else,’ Cara said carefully.
Sally’s eyes widened.
‘There is?’
Cara nodded.
‘Does Byron know?’
‘Of course he knows,’ Cara said. ‘How could he not know?’
Sally shrugged.
‘Men can be a bit thick sometimes,’ she said. ‘They usually only see what they want to see.’ She reached for another cracker and chewed it thoughtfully. ‘This weekend must have been very difficult for you.’
‘It’s had its moments.’
‘I’m sorry about Katie’s outspokenness. She doesn’t think before she speaks.’
‘She’s only five,’ Cara pointed out. ‘Plenty of time to learn.’
‘You’re extremely gracious.’
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