Lesson to Learn

by Penny Jordan

  ‘I’d better go up and check on Robbie,’ she told him shakily, knowing she was using Robbie as an excuse to escape from him, and knowing from the look in his eyes that he knew it too.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘WE NEED to talk.’

  The abrupt comment made Sarah tense and put down the mug of coffee she had just raised to her lips.

  It was eight o’clock and she had just put Robbie to bed, and had been about to suggest to Gray that it was time she left.

  So far Robbie was recovering surprisingly quickly from his ordeal. He had woken up during the afternoon, and, although he had not mentioned what had happened and had clung physically as well as emotionally to her, Sarah had been able to question him gently about why he had run away.

  As he had told the police, he had overheard her argument with Gray and had decided that if she was not coming back then he was not going to stay with his father without her. She had told him quietly then how much his daddy loved him and how worried he had been. She had told him as well that sometimes grown-ups quarrel with one another, and he had seemed to accept what she had told him, although she couldn’t help but notice the way he avoided any kind of contact with Gray.

  Now, as she waited, Gray told her curtly, ‘Robbie needs you here more than he needs me. I know you’ve already said that you aren’t prepared to live in, but I was wondering if you might reconsider that decision and move in here.’

  What could she say? She ached to refuse but she sensed that he was in no mood to listen to her, and as for her reminding him that they had already decided that he should find someone else to care for Robbie…How could she do that now?

  As always her soft heart was her undoing…and besides, if she was honest with herself, didn’t half of her actually want to stay? Even when doing so meant that she would enmesh herself even further in the web of heartache she was tangling round herself? Was that really what she wanted? She was already far too emotionally involved with Robbie as it was. And as for her feeling for Gray himself…How could she live here in the same house with him now, after what had happened, and yet, for Robbie’s sake, how could she not do so? She took a deep breath, firmly pushing her own feelings to one side, telling herself that Robbie’s needs must come first now.

  ‘I don’t want to put any kind of emotional pressure on you,’ she could hear Gray saying rawly. ‘But for Robbie’s sake…’

  ‘For Robbie’s sake, I’ll stay,’ Sarah told him, ‘but on one condition: you must make time for Robbie…time to get to know him and for him to get to know you.’ He was about to speak but she wouldn’t let him, quickly overriding him, determined to make her point now before she lost her courage and with it the ability to make him see how important it was that the gulf between Robbie and himself was bridged, and quickly.

  ‘I know you’re going to say you’re too busy to take time off work but that’s exactly what you must do.You must put Robbie first. We both must.’

  There was a taut silence. She knew she was holding her breath, half waiting for him to deny the truth of what she was saying, to reject her plea, but instead, to her relief, he said harshly, ‘I take it if I don’t agree you’ll refuse to stay—is that what you’re saying?’

  She was tempted to agree, but her conscience wouldn’t let her, and so instead she shook her head, telling him, ‘No, I can’t do that…but you must see how important it is now for you to establish contact with Robbie, and the only way you can do that is by spending time with him. Can’t you see it isn’t enough for you to tell me that you love him? You have to show Robbie that you do. You have to win his confidence…his trust.’

  There was a long pause. She held her breath and then heard him saying reluctantly, ‘Very well, then. I’ll have to go into the office tomorrow to sort out one or two things…but only for tomorrow. Any urgent things that crop up I suppose I could always deal with from here.’

  * * *

  HE WAS AS GOOD as his word, and almost a week after Robbie had terrified them both by running away Sarah found herself holding her breath in tense delight one morning when Robbie actually addressed a question to his father instead of routing it through her.

  True, it was only a simple request to know how they were going to spend the day, but it was a breakthrough, an acknowledgement on Robbie’s part that his father existed and had a part in his life, and she could tell from one swift look at Gray’s face that he was aware of its importance too.

  The morning brought another welcome relief, when she discovered that there was no risk of her having conceived Gray’s child. At least, she told herself that it was a relief and tried to bolster that view by reminding herself of all the reasons why she could not possibly have allowed herself to feel the slightest pleasure in the discovery that she was pregnant, and yet at the back of her mind all the time lay a small, aching pain, a small, desolate awareness of how much she would have liked to have had his child, another Robbie…or perhaps a Roberta. The thought made her smile painfully to herself. A son or a daughter, her child’s sex would not have been important to her…what would have been important was that she would have been carrying Gray’s child…and even though she knew he would not have wanted it…she would have done so.

  When she went downstairs and found Robbie asking his father if they could have lunch at McDonald’s the desolation that swept her filled her eyes with tears and made her womb literally ache with emptiness as she acknowledged that, if she could not have Gray’s child, she would probably never have a child at all, because no man could ever mean to her what he did, and the thought of sharing with another man the intimacy she had shared with him, even though she knew that intimacy meant absolutely nothing whatsoever to him, was almost sacrilege.

  She was determined that no one but she would ever know just what it was costing her to put her own feelings on one side and to stay here in the same house with Gray, acutely conscious of the way he avoided coming too close to her, the way he avoided even looking at her sometimes, almost as though…As though what? He was filled with such acute distaste and embarrassment at the memory of their shared intimacy that now her physical presence was something he had to force himself to endure for Robbie’s sake?

  Some days her nerves were so on edge and she was so completely conscious of him, ached so much inside for him, that she barely knew how she was going to stand it, and yet somehow or other she always did…always managed to remind herself of why she was here, and of how important it was for Robbie’s sake that they presented a harmonious and united front.

  And at the same time she was aware of how difficult Gray was finding things. Sometimes the look in his eyes when he watched Robbie and was unaware of her watching him brought her close to tears of compassion for him. How could she ever have doubted how much he loved his son? She just wished she had the power to wave a magic wand and somehow or other remove all the barriers between them. Robbie was such a naturally affectionate and loving little boy, but his ability to place his trust in his father had been so damaged by his mother that, for every step forward they made, he sometimes seemed to take two back. Like the day Gray took them out for a drive and then on to a country park for a walk when Robbie refused to walk alongside his father, instead demanding that he and Sarah should walk along together while Gray walked alone behind them.

  But they were making progress, Sarah assured herself. Last night Gray had read Robbie’s bedtime story to him on his own, and now here was Robbie actually beginning to talk directly with his father.

  It was no wonder Gray looked so strained and tense, though. Loving Robbie the way he did, he must be under an almost unendurable pressure.

  And yet she was convinced that, given time, Robbie would turn to his father, would overcome his deeply ingrained mistrust of him and come to recognise Gray’s love for him. And once he did her role here would be finished, her presence no longer needed, and how was she going to feel about that? How was she going to feel when she had to leave?

  Like Eve locked out of Para
dise? A strange kind of paradise that reduced her to desolation and the solace of the tears she wept every night in her sleep; the ache of longing and love that ceaselessly tormented her, the way she longed to be able to turn to Gray and to see reflected in his eyes all that she knew was in her own heart.

  Such impossible, idiotic dreams. Why on earth did she cling to them so ridiculously when she knew that they could only add to her pain and despair?

  * * *

  THAT NIGHT, after he had had his bath and Sarah was tucking him up in bed, when she kissed him goodnight Robbie clung tightly to her and told her, ‘I wish you were my mummy, Sarah.’

  Tears filled her eyes and she had to turn her head away so that he wouldn’t see them, but as she did so she froze.

  Gray was standing just inside the bedroom door, and she knew from the look on his face that he had overheard Robbie’s comment.

  For a moment he just stood there, looking at her, and then silently, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  ‘Is Daddy coming to read my story tonight?’ Robbie asked her chattily, but for once this sign that he was at last coming to accept Gray’s role in his life failed to lift her spirits.

  ‘I expect so,’ she responded automatically, getting up from beside the bed and heading for the door.

  When she went downstairs there was no sign of Gray in the kitchen, but when she went back into the hall she could see a light shining under his study door.

  She knocked on the door, and then when Gray opened it she told him quickly, unable to bring herself to look directly at him, ‘Robbie’s waiting for you to read to him.’

  She walked away without waiting for a response, too embarrassed and too aware of how he must have felt on hearing Robbie’s artless comment to be able to remain where she was.

  She already knew how little he wanted her in his life and that he only tolerated her presence in his home for Robbie’s sake. She had seen the way he reacted to her too often to be under any illusions there.

  Whenever, by accident, she had come into any kind of close physical proximity to him he had immediately stepped back from her, had immediately reacted to her presence by distancing himself from her physically, just as he had distanced himself from her emotionally after they had made love—no, not made love…after they had had sex. She shuddered in grim distaste but refused to allow herself to alter the description, just as she had all along refused to allow herself the palliative of deceiving herself about just how little what had happened had meant to him.

  She heard him going upstairs, but stayed where she was in the kitchen, expecting that when he came down again he would go straight back into the study. They might be sharing the same house, but once Robbie was in bed at night they remained strictly segregated…she either in the kitchen or in her own bedroom, Gray usually working in his study.

  She was busy pretending to read an article in a newspaper when she heard him coming back downstairs, her body tensing as she waited for the now familiar sound of the study door opening and then closing again, the symbolic withdrawal from her that shut her out of his life and kept the barriers firmly in place between them.

  In fact, so sure was she that he would return to his study that when instead he walked into the kitchen she was too shocked to do anything other than stare at him.

  ‘I’m…I’m going away for a few days,’ he told her abruptly. ‘It’s…it’s business, something that can’t be avoided, I’m afraid.’

  What could she say? What could she do? Remind him of his promise when she had agreed to live in…remind him of how important it was that he gave Robbie his time and attention?

  She opened her mouth to do so and then closed it again, knowing already that she was wasting her time. How could he do this? she wondered sadly and half angrily. How could he turn his back on Robbie like this just when the little boy was starting to lose his fear of him?

  ‘Is it really necessary?’ was all she could bring herself to say, her voice terse, betraying all that she was not saying.

  A dark ridge of colour burnt along his cheekbones.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ he told her curtly. But he was avoiding looking at her and she sensed that he was withholding something from her…that he was not being entirely honest with her.

  ‘I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.’

  Sarah’s mouth compressed, but before she could say anything he shocked her by telling her, ‘I’ve already explained things to Robbie. I think he understands. I’ll be gone about a month.’

  A month. She swallowed back her shock and distress, too stunned to protest that he could not leave her solely in charge of Robbie for that length of time.

  * * *

  LATER THAT night as she prepared for bed Sarah found herself wishing bitterly that she could understand as he had claimed Robbie had done. He had promised her that he would put Robbie first; that he would concentrate on building up the little boy’s trust…and she had always felt that he was the kind of man who, once his word was given, would never go back on it, especially not for material gain. She knew how strongly he felt about his responsibility to his workforce, but surely in this instance Robbie had to come first.

  And to calmly announce that he would be gone for a full month…But no, he had not been calm, she recognised with hindsight; in fact, he had been extremely tense and on edge. But why…why leave Robbie now, just when the little boy was starting to reach out to him?

  She wished she had the courage, the confidence to put such questions to him, but knew that she did not…not even for Robbie’s sake, much as she had come to love the little boy.

  She swallowed hard, reliving that painful moment when Robbie had told her he wished she were his mother and the even more painful moment when she had turned her head and had known that Gray had overhead his son’s comment.

  Was it because of that…because he feared that she…? That she what? That she might try to use Robbie’s dependence on her to…?

  Tears blurred her eyes. Surely he couldn’t have such a low opinion of her? Surely the fact that she had never once referred to what had happened between them the day of Robbie’s disappearance must have shown him that she was aware of how unimportant it had been to him…or how little he would want to be reminded of it?

  When at last she drifted into an exhausted sleep there were tear-stains on her face, and her heart ached with the pain of loving Gray and knowing that he would never love her in return.

  When she got downstairs in the morning he had gone. There was a terse note for her, apologising for his abrupt departure, and thanking her for all she had done and was doing for Robbie.

  For Robbie there was also a note, a touching little gesture which the Gray she had first known would surely never have made, and over breakfast, despite her own pain, she kept on bringing Gray into the conversation, determined to build on the bond that was already tentatively growing between father and son.

  She had her reward later in the day when Robbie exclaimed, ‘I wish Daddy were here, don’t you, Sarah?’

  She forced herself to smile, while saying nothing. What was there to say that Robbie, as a child, could possibly understand?

  She was already dreadfully afraid that Gray himself had guessed how she felt about him. She was quite certain that Sally and Ross had, even though neither of them had said a word to her about the situation.

  A week passed without any word from Gray. Not that she had expected to hear from him, Sarah told herself, but still, he might have sent Robbie a card from wherever it was he had gone on this oh, so important business that would not keep.

  She had been sleeping badly, dragging herself through the days in a state of inertia and misery, forcing herself to make an effort for Robbie’s sake, acknowledging now just how much comfort she had derived merely from Gray’s presence in the house, even though at the same time she had been forced to endure her awareness of his physical distancing of himself from her, as though he could hardly bear sometimes to be in the sam
e room with her.

  She had put Robbie to bed; the house was clean; there was nothing really for her to do…nothing to occupy her other than the book she had bought while out shopping. She switched on the television in the sitting-room, and told herself that once she had watched the news she might as well go straight to bed, but the long days of loneliness and despair had taken their toll on her, and long before it was time for the evening’s news programme she had fallen asleep where she was.

  Letting himself into the house half an hour later, Gray found her curled up in a chair in the sitting-room, looking more like a little girl than a woman, with her hair in a pony-tail and her face free of make-up.

  An aching wave of longing swept him as he stood watching her. He had left because he could no longer endure the agony of living in such proximity to her, and now he was back because he could no longer endure the agony of living without her.

  Pain if he stayed, pain if he left. He grimaced to himself. There was no panacea for his love for her, as she had made it plain enough the day he had lost his head, lost all control, and had been idiotic enough to give in to his intense need and love for her, driven by his fear for Robbie to give in to his feelings, his need in the most primitive and passionate way there was. He could never forgive himself for that…never.

  She stirred in her sleep. He was about to move away, but before he could do so she opened her eyes.

  ‘Gray.’

  Sarah couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Her heart was beating far, far too fast, her voice husky with emotion as she stared hungrily at him, absorbing the sight of him, the knowledge that his presence was an actual reality and not merely some by-product of her over-active imagination.

  How many times had she sat here in the evening, tormenting herself by fantasising about him walking in, coming to her, taking her in his arms and…?