by Unknown
'This is your apartment,' the agent was saying chirpily to her, unlocking the door for her. 'As you know, you have the benefit of your own private balcony while your flat...' he turned to Seb, 'has the addition of an extra room which could be used as a third bedrooip or a study.' Still smiling he crossed the hallway and unlocked the other door.
Taking advantage of Seb's preoccupation with the agent, Katie slipped inside her own apartment.
Five minutes later, having completed a closer inspection of all the rooms, she was forced to admit that she was unlikely to find anything that would suit her better.
All the rooms were a good size, all the period decorative details had been retained, giving the apartment a feeling of elegance and even grandeur, and the views from the windows, which she had not really taken full account of on her previous visit, extended not just over the grounds of the house itself, all of which were there for the residents to enjoy and which were tended by a firm of gar-deners, but over the surrounding countryside.
Left alone in his own apartment with Charlotte while the estate agent went to check to see if Katie had any questions she wanted to ask him, Seb turned to his daughter lifting one querying eyebrow as he asked her,
'Well...'
'It's cool,' Charlotte responded with a wide grin.
'Love the bathrooms... Yours is even big enough to have a Jacuzzi fitted if you want one.'
'If I want one,' Seb agreed, adding firmly, 'which I don't...'
'Dad, why haven't you ever re-married?' Charlotte asked him seriously now.
While Seb was frowningly wondering how best to answer her, she continued a little uncertainly,
'It isn't because of me is it... I mean I know that...well Mum never really said much about...about things, but I did once overhear her talking to George about it and she said that having me had been the final straw for you...'
Seb studied her downcast head wondering what on earth he could say. As close as they had grown the subject of his marriage to her mother and their subsequent divorce was not one they had ever discussed, and man-like he had always been reluctant to raise a subject which, he was forced to admit, did not reflect well on himself.
'I rather think what your mother was trying to say was that my adolescent and totally selfish reaction to the demands a baby made on her time and our marriage were the last straw for her' Seb corrected Charlotte gently.
'The reason our marriage didn't survive was wholly and totally down to me, Charlotte... I was a selfish wretch, and far too immature when we got married to think about anyone other than myself. Your mother and I met at university, fell into what we believed was love but what, with a bit of perspective, I think we both soon realised was really only lust, married...and...and then you came along and you have no idea how much I regret the years I've lost with you and my own unforgivable selfishness...'
'M-Mum did say once that had the pair of you been older or a bit more worldly-wise, you'd both have known that what you had together was wonderful for an intense and passionate affair, but not for marriage. She said, too, that while she was the one who initiated things between the two of you, you were the one with the old-fashioned moral principles who insisted that you should get married—if you were going to have sex.'
Seb grimaced. What Charlotte had just said was quite true. Eighteen months his senior, Sandra had had othdr boyfriends, other relationships, before she had met him—neither of them had come to their own affair as novice lovers. But with his own upbringing, his knowledge of what could happen in the aftermath of a passionate relationship for the woman who was left on her own, seen first-hand through the history of his own family—Cooke men had a certain notorious reputation for their alleged propensity to father children outside wed-lock—he had felt it necessary to prove that he was different, above the kind of much criticised behaviour his name had branded him with. Perhaps his insistence on marrying Sandra had been a righteous and ridiculous piece of over-reaction, but if he was honest with himself Seb knew that, given the same situation again, he would probably have reacted in exactly the same way.
His father had always been a stern critic of the hap-hazard morals of some members of the Cooke clan. As a boy growing up, Seb could remember that there had been tight-lipped conversations between his parents about the sudden arrival of a new and unexpected member of the family who did not always carry his or her father's name. Both of his parents had been insistent that that was a family inheritance of which they most certainly did not approve. And nor, no more so, did Seb.
Seb was brought back to the present as Charlotte squeezed his arm lovingly and kissed his cheek.
'I'm glad we've had this little talk,' she told him almost maternally. 'And I wish that you could find someone nice to marry Dad... I liked Katie Crighton, didn't you?'
Seb frowned as she looked at him, but Charlotte only returned his look with one of filial innocence and before Seb could warn her that even if he had been looking for someone, Katie Crighton was most definitely not his type, the estate agent had returned.
Ten minutes later as Seb drove out of the house's grounds behind Katie and the estate agent, he made a mental note to get in touch with Jon Crighton and set the wheels in motion for the purchase of the apartment.
Now that he had decided to buy and had had his offer accepted, he wanted to get the formalities over and done with as soon as possible so that he could move in.
As she drove out of the house's grounds ahead of Seb Cooke, Katie was wishing that she might have had someone else, anyone else, but him, for her new and nearest neighbour. Not that she was likely to see much of him she acknowledged, on two counts. According to what Charlotte had told her she could guess that his job would be very demanding and from the way he had looked at her she had seen that he was as pleased about having her for a neighbour as she was him. What was his wife like? she wondered. Very glamorous and sexy no doubt. He was that kind of man—you could see at a glance. He just exuded sexuality... Not like Gareth.
Gareth was a man for snuggling up to in front of a lovely log fire... Gareth was a comfort and reassurance, safe and...
And there was no way that anyone, any woman, would ever describe Seb Cooke as any of those things, but most especially safe. Why, you only had to think about his family's reputation. There was a smouldering sexual energy about him that rubbed her up the wrong way and brought all of her own antagonism towards him out making her feel prickly and on her guard, waiy arfd filled with unfamiliarly strong emotions.
Even the way he had looked at her. Katie tensed as she tried to banish the unwanted memory of that startling reaction she had experienced when she had almost felt as though she could sense the heat of his breath, his mouth on hers. It had been a mistake, an accident, a ridiculous fluke caused by heaven alone knew what mix up of signals inside her body. No doubt Seb himself would have an explanation for such awareness. He, after all, was the research scientist and no doubt fully au fait with the confusing mixture of chemicals and in-built programming which were responsible for what less rational people called 'emotions.'
To her relief as she looked in her driving mirror she saw that they were going in opposite directions to their different destinations as she indicated to turn left to drive home to her parents' house.
CHAPTER THREE
'MMM... What a wonderful smell,' Katie enthused as she walked into the kitchen where her mother was busy cooking. Originally a farmer's daughter from Cheshire, Jenny Crighton had the kind of homemaking skills that at one stage of her young married life had made her feel very dull and old-fashioned. Who wanted a wife who could grow, preserve and cook her own fruit and vege-tables in an era which had fallen in love with Twiggy look-alikes; fragile, big-eyed dolly birds? Who wanted a wife with a healthy build, thick curly hair and freckles when the fashion was for chalk-white pallor and long straight locks?
It had taken a long time for her to learn that Jon Crighton, her husband, loved her very deeply, but these last few years since the birthda
y party thrown to cele-brate her husband's and his twin brother's half century, had seen a renaissance in their marriage and had brought her more joy and happiness than she had once believed she could ever have—and it showed. She still had the trim feminine figure of her youth, but as a young girl she had been self-effacing, a little awkward and shy, now she had a mature self-confidence that came not just from knowing how much her husband loved her nor even from being the pivot of her busy family household, but from feeling at ease with herself.
'It's for supper tonight. You haven't forgotten that we're having an informal party have you?'
Katie gave her an apologetic look.
'Oh heavens, yes I had,' she admitted, adding by way of explanation, 'It's been such a frantic week, what with my own conveyance and then Olivia having to take extra time off.'
'Mmm... Well at least the doctor has confirmed the fever and temperature is only a childhood upset and not meningitis as Olivia first feared. You will be joining us this evening though, won't you?'
'Mmm... What time are you expecting people?'
'In about an hour,' her mother told her.
'Right, I'll go up and have a shower and get changed and then I'll come down and give you a hand. Is Dad back?' she asked as she helped herself to one of the too-tempting and still-warm fruit buns her mother had just put onto a wire rack to cool.
'Yes...just... That will give you indigestion,' she warned Katie with a mock serious look as she tapped her hand.
'Oh, and by the way, I rang Louise this morning...'
Katie, who had been about to go upstairs, tensed, her heart starting to thud unevenly. Every mention of her twin reminded her of Gareth and brought home to her the emptiness of her own life in contrast to the love that filled Louise's.
'You know we're having a special party for your grandfather soon,' her mother was continuing. 'Well, both Maddy and I think that we ought to have as many from the family there as possible. Having the family around him means so much to Ben and he's getting so frail...'
Katie's eyebrows rose.
'The family means so much, does it? Well he certainly doesn't show it,' she told her mother dryly. 'With the exception of Max and of course uncle David, I get the impression that he doesn't care that much for anyone.'
'Oh, that's just his way,' Jenny assured her sunnily.
'You wouldn't believe how proud he is of all of you.'
'No, I wouldn't,' Katie agreed wryly. 'He told me when he learned that Lou and I were going to study law that women and the law simply didn't mix, and that women were far too emotional to make good lawyers...'
'He is a bit old-fashioned,' her mother acknowledged,
'and since David left...' She paused and sighed.
'Do you think Uncle David will ever come back?'
Katie asked her mother curiously. 'I mean, to just disappear like that... I know that Olivia makes no real secret of the fact that she doesn't want him to come back, but Jack...'
She paused and frowned as both she and her mother remembered how, when Louise had first moved to Brussels to work, Jack and their brother Joss had illicitly taken time off school to go and search for Jack's missing father. And then later, undeterred by Louise's fathers decision that his twin brother should be allowed to make his own decisions as to whether or not to be reunited with his family, Jack had secretly made arrangements to fly out to Jamaica on the same plane as Jon's eldest son*
Max.
Max had callously played on his grandfather's love for him and for his son, David, on what was to have been, for Max, an all-expenses-paid luxury holiday and an escape from his wife and a difficult situation professionally, all cloaked in the disguise of wanting to look for David at Ben's behest.
The ensuing near tragedy had resulted, not just in Max's total transformation and metamorphosis, but also in a much deeper and adult understanding between Jack and his Uncle Jon, but all the family knew that a small part of Jack would also always be scarred by his father's disappearance and his apparent rejection of him, no matter how much love and reassurance he received from Jon and Jenny.
'I don't know if David will ever come back,' her mother admitted now. 'We don't even know where he is. For Ben's sake...' She paused and bit her lip but Katie knew what she was thinking.
'Grandfather is getting very frail,' she agreed quietly.
'If Uncle David is going to come back I hope he doesn't leave it too long...or until it's too late...'
'It wouldn't be easy for David to come back and I'm not sure he actually possesses the courage he would need to do so...' Jenny replied.
'Mmm... He and Max were very alike, weren't they?'
Katie acknowledged. 'But Max has changed and so...'
'Max has changed,' her mother agreed. 'He and Maddy will be here this evening, by the way. Maddy did say she wanted to have a word with you. They're hoping to buy another house for the mums and babes and I suspect she's going to ask you if you'd do all the legal work for them.'
The family charity originally begun by Ben (Brighton's sister, Ruth, had grown from a single house with indi-vidual rooms for young single mothers, into an organisation which now provided homes for single parents of both sexes as well as their young children, and which was constantly having to find more accommodation for its protege's parents.
One of Maddy's contributions had been the develop-ment of a scheme which allowed the young parents to train for jobs and then to go out to work while their children were looked after safely at an in-house creche.
And not all of their single parents were female. They now had a small group of young men who, for one reason or another, were the sole parents to their children.
It was a very worthwhile cause and one which all the Crighton women both supported and were involved in to some extent or another. Katie and Louise had both worked voluntarily with the scheme during their university breaks and Katie was not surprised to hear that Maddy, as the charity's main working executive, was in the process of obtaining further housing.
'Who else is coming?' she asked her mother as she scooped up the last few crumbs of her pilfered cake.
'Mmm... Olivia and Caspar, Tullah and Saul and a handful of other people. Oh, and Chrissie and Guy...'
'Guy Cooke?' Katie enquired so sharply that her mother frowned.
'Yes. Why?'
A long, long time ago, or so it seemed now to Jenny, Guy had made it plain to her that if she had a neglectful husband then she most certainly had a very appreciative business partner and one who, given the opportunity, would like to put their relationship on a much closer intimate footing.
But that had been before she and Jon had sorted out their problems and before Guy had met Chrissie, and so far as Jenny knew, there was now no reason whatsoever for Katie to have that particular note of reservation in her voice when she repeated Guy's name, and certainly none for her unexpected emphasis on the Cooke part of Guy's name.
Katie, of both her girls, was the one to whom Jenny felt the closest, the one who was most like her in temperament and yet, conversely, Katie was also the one who was the least forthcoming, the least given to confidence.
For a long time Jenny had been concerned about her daughter, knowing with maternal instinct that she wasn't happy, but Katie had never been the kind of person you could coax or persuade into discussing anything she did not want to discuss. Jenny had her own ideas and thoughts about what was making her so unhappy and if she was right...
Katie had always tended to idealise people, to put them on a small pedestal, to invest them with virtues of her own making. She had a far gentler and more romantic nature than Louise, her twin, a far less robust attitude towards life—and men.
And now as she looked at her withdrawn expression, Jenny decided that it might not be a good moment to tell her that she had invited Guy to bring another Cooke along to her supper party with him.
Jenny had not yet met Seb Cooke, but she had heard all about him from both Guy and Chrissie. Naturally maternal and war
m-hearted as well as being a generous hostess, Jenny had immediately suggested to them both that they should bring Seb with them when they came over to supper. From what Guy had told her about him it sounded as though, despite all his family connections in the town, he might be feeling a little isolated.
'He isn't the easiest of people to get to know,' Guy had warned her. 'In fact, some folk find him a little bit off-putting and intimidating. He's a scientist, of course, and very analytical, and like me he's known the burden of being a Cooke who doesn't fit into the normal and expected male Cooke mould.'
As Katie went upstairs to change and prepare for the evening she was frowning. Her father had asked her if she would take over one of his few remaining conveyancing cases, explaining that what was to have been a simple court case had developed into something much more complicated, meaning that he couldn't do the work as quickly as their new client wished.
'Nice chap. You'll like him,' he had told Katie with a smile. 'Seb Cooke... He...'
'Seb Cooke! You want me to act for himT
Her father had raised an eyebrow when he had heard the antagonism in her voice.
'What's wrong? I thought...'
'Nothing's wrong...' Katie had fibbed. The situation and her own feelings were far too complicated and personal to be explained to her father. How could she tell him that the main reason she disliked Seb so much was because of his intense sexuality...that something about him, about his power as a man, made her all the more aware of her own incompleteness as a woman.
'He's buying the apartment adjacent to mine,' was all she could allow herself to say. ,
'Yes, I know,' her father agreed, and then wisely decided not to pursue the subject.
Katie had changed since she had reached maturity.
Something had happened to her, hurt her, and much Sis he longed to help, he felt that it was impossible for hint to pry. She was an adult now and if she wouldn't even confide in her mother then who was he, a mere man—