'You're divorced?'
For a moment Olivia was tempted to lie, but she knew that Scott would have told Nick that they were still married, that he would have enjoyed pumping poison into her new relationship. So she shook her head. 'No, he made all sorts of difficulties so I just let it go. I thought he might change, given time, and I wasn't in any hurry to marry again.'
'It seemed it wasn't a very amicable parting?'
Olivia gave a rather bitter laugh. 'Can separation ever be entirely amicable? I left him, and he didn't like it. If anyone was going to walk out he wanted it to be him. So he lied and told everyone that he kicked me out.'
Nick made an impatient gesture. 'Does it matter?'
Her head came up. 'No, it doesn't matter now, not to me. As far as I'm concerned it was all over a couple of years ago, accept for a piece of paper making it official.' She paused, then said with difficulty, 'Nothing's changed, Nick.'
'Except that it didn't occur to you to tell me that you had a husband somewhere around.'
'He's part of my past I want to forget about. I didn't want it to—intrude on us, on our relationship.' She spoke persuasively, trying to take the withdrawn look from his face, the anger from his eyes.
But Nick's voice was cold as he said, 'So just when did you propose to tell me—if ever?'
'I don't know.' She shrugged helplessly. 'When the time was right, I suppose.' She saw his lips thin at that and caught hold of his sleeve. 'Nick, please try to understand. I'd put the whole thing behind me, was trying to forget it. And when I met you I didn't want anything to spoil what we have.'
'And if I'd asked you to marry me?'
Her breath caught. 'Then naturally I would have told you; you would have had the right to know.'
'I see.' But he still seemed angry. 'So it would have taken complete commitment on my part before you would have bothered to tell me that you just happen to have been married and hadn't got round to getting a divorce.'
His attack made her feel guilty so she attacked in return. 'So what difference does it make? You haven't asked me to marry you. And if you—if you love me you won't care about my being married before.'
'I thought you were free,' Nick retorted curtly. 'I believed what you told me—that you had never been in love before.'
'But I haven't!’ Olivia said desperately. 'Not like this. What I felt for Scott was only infatuation, a teenage crush that I mistook for love. It was a mistake that ruined years of my life. But I knew almost from the first moment I met you that this was for real. And you felt it too; I know you did.'
'What I feel hardly seems to matter,' Nick said shortly. Timing, he picked up his uniform hat and his flight-bag. 'I don't break up marriages, Olivia.' And he started for the door.
Filled with dreadful fear, she ran to stop him. 'No, you can't leave. Not like this. Doesn't what we have mean anything to you?'
Nick gazed at her, his face bleak, his jaw grim. 'That's what you don't understand. It means everything to me.' He gave a grim smile at her stunned face and opened the door. 'When—or should I say if you ever do get a divorce, let me know; I may still be free myself.' And he walked out, firmly closing the door behind him.
The sun reflected off the windscreen of a car coming towards her, catching Olivia's eyes, blinding her. She put up a hand to shade them and saw the car turn into the open gateway. For a brief instant she caught a glimpse of the driver's profile, and her heart gave an unforgettable, achingly longed for jolt. She had found Nick at last. After a few minutes Olivia reached out to start the engine and followed him through the gates.
CHAPTER TWO
Once through the gates, Olivia had expected to come immediately upon helicopters and hangars, but the way ran through a long avenue of tall trees, their bare branches black fingers against the blue sky. A fork in the road and another sign with an arrow pointing off to the right. Olivia followed it as the land rose quite steeply, then she emerged from the trees on to open ground, a large plateau of land looking out across a valley, beautiful even in winter. The hangars were here, and several helicopters standing ready for take-off, their white paintwork gleaming in the sun. There was also a single-storied office building with a few cars parked in front of it, one of them the car she had seen Nick driving. She parked to one side, out of line of the office windows, and walked slowly towards the building, her heart thumping in her chest. Anxious, eager, terrified, full of the aching yearning that had brought her this far, Olivia went up to the door and pushed it open.
The first thing she heard was Nick's voice talking to someone, coming from an office down a corridor that led off the reception area. She had loved his voice so much, and once every tone had been a caress. For a moment Olivia had to shut her eyes and dig her nails into her palms before she could go on. She started to cross the room but a woman in her late thirties came out of a door to the left and said, 'Good morning. Can I help you?'
Olivia quickly shook her head and put a finger to her lips. 'No. I—I want to surprise Nick.'
The woman raised her eyebrows, hesitated, but let Olivia go on down the corridor alone. Nick's office was at the far end, the door open. He was talking on the phone, his feet up on the desk, sitting in a swivel chair with his back to her, reading through a letter as he talked. Olivia paused in the doorway, trying to still her chaotic emotions, her hand gripping the door-jamb, glad of these few moments when he didn't know she was there.
The room was very neat, very businesslike; filing cabinets lined one wall and the only items of decoration were photographs and souvenir parts of old biplanes on the far wall: a compass, control column, and brightly polished propeller blade. Nick's voice stopped suddenly, and she saw his shoulders grow tense. He wasn't looking at the letter any more; his head was raised, his eyes fastened on the mirror-like surface of the propeller blade. Following his eyes, Olivia saw her own distorted reflection.
For a long moment he didn't move, just sat as if frozen, then he said into the phone, 'Look, I'm sorry, but something's come up; I'll have to call you back.' Putting the receiver down, Nick swung his legs off the desk and swivelled round in the chair to face her.
His face was very pale, stunned. Olivia looked eagerly into it, searching for the love they'd known. For a few moments his eyes seemed to drink her in avidly, but then his jaw tightened and he blinked and looked away. She waited for him to speak, but when he didn't said softly, unsteadily, 'Hello, Nick.'
'Olivia. This is—quite a surprise.' His fingers were gripping the edge of the desk but his face was taut now, almost wary.
She had hoped for a much warmer welcome than this; Nick didn't even stand up and come to greet her. He was behaving almost as if they had been nothing more to each other than casual acquaintances. The thrill of anticipation turning to overwhelming disappointment, Olivia slowly stepped forward into the room, pushing the door shut behind her but standing near it, almost as if she needed its support. Her eyes were still on his face, noticing lines around his eyes and mouth that hadn't been there two years ago. He looked older, world-weary. She wanted to take him in her arms and smooth the lines away, but his churlish welcome stabbed at her pride. Her head came up and she tried to hide the hurt behind light casualness as she said, 'I guess it must be. But I thought I'd look you up as I was in your neck of the woods.'
'Really?' He put his hands under the desk, then shoved them in his pockets. 'How did you know I was based here?'
But Olivia already had the answer to that one prepared. 'I met another British Airways pilot at a party in New York, someone who knew you; he told me where you were. So, as I was due to come to England, I decided to see how you were getting along.'
Nick bad been watching her keenly but she had managed to keep her voice light and casual and he seemed to relax a fraction. 'Just fine, as you can see.' He glanced at his watch and somehow Olivia managed to hide the bitter hurt the gesture caused. 'Look, I've got to pick up a customer in twenty minutes or so, but I'm sure we have time for a coffee. Why don't you pull
up a chair and tell me all that you've been doing? I expect you're famous over in the States by now?'
Before she could answer he picked up the internal phone. 'Jane, bring in a couple of cups of coffee, will you? Quick as you can.'
Slowly Olivia walked over to a chair a few feet away from his desk and sat down, propping her bag on the floor beside her but making no attempt to move the chair nearer. His facetious question had angered her and she found his lack of manners in getting the chair for her himself humiliating. 'No, I'm not famous,' she said coldly. 'I don't suppose I ever will be, but I'm still working as a journalist, if that's what you mean.'
His eyes flicked to her face at her tone, then immediately away again. 'And are you over here on holiday?'
Trying to match his detached casualness, she replied, 'No, I'm working on a series of articles for the magazine company.'
'You must be successful, then. Congratulations.'
There was a silence, a tense, difficult few seconds until Olivia said, 'How about you? What made you give up flying the big jets?'
'Oh, I just got tired of the life. Decided to have a go at being my own boss.'
'And are you successful?'
There was a brief knock on the door and Jane came in with two cups of coffee on a tray. She put the tray on Nick's desk and went to leave, but he said, 'Serve it for us, would you?'
'Of course.' The woman looked at Olivia. 'Do you take milk and sugar?'
'No, just as it comes. Thanks.' She took the proffered cup and watched as the woman added a little milk to Nick's, obviously used to his taste. Jane left and Olivia looked down at her cup as she stirred it, fighting back the raw hurt of rejection.
Picking up her last question, Nick said, 'The business is gradually expanding. I have five helicopters now.'
'You're not the only pilot, then?'
'No, there are three of us full time, and two part-timers who mainly give flying lessons.'
Olivia lifted her cup to her lips but didn't drink, her throat too tight to swallow. Desperately she sought for something to say and could only come up with the trite, 'Is it difficult to learn to fly a chopper?'
'No, quite easy once you get the hang of it.'
Another taut silence in which Olivia put her cup down on a small table beside her. 'So you're settled in England now?'
'Yes.' He said it firmly, with a curt nod.
'And married, presumably?' The question burned her throat, made her lips dry.
Nick visibly hesitated before saying tersely, 'No. And you?'
'I got my divorce.' Slowly, painfully, she added, 'I wrote and told you but you didn't answer my letter.'
'Did you? Perhaps it went to my old address. I moved some time ago.' His eyes went to his watch. 'Look, I'm sorry to rush you but the mornings are always busy and-'
Olivia got hurriedly to her feet. 'Sure, I understand. Nice seeing you again.'
'And you. You won't mind seeing yourself out, will you? I must finish that phone call before I leave.'
She nodded and walked blindly out of the office and down the corridor, desperate to get away and be alone. She felt for her car keys in her pocket and almost ran through the empty reception area and out to the car. Getting in, she automatically started the engine to drive away, unable to think straight, her mind full of choking unhappiness. She started to drive down the road from the office building, but she couldn't concentrate, and her hands were shaking too much. When she reached the fork Olivia realised that there was no way she could safely drive out on the main road, so she swung the wheel and took the turning leading away from the entrance, and when she came to a convenient place pulled off the narrow road and parked the car behind a huge rhododendron bush, out of sight of anyone who might pass.
For several minutes Olivia sat quite still, her eyes dosed, going back over the long-anticipated meeting with Nick which had turned out to be so disastrous. It had all none so hopelessly wrong. He had been shocked to see her, yes, but then, what man wouldn't have been surprised to see an old flame, an ex-lover that he had almost forgotten walk back into his life? And he had soon let her see that she wasn't welcome, that he was no longer interested.
Not for the first time, Olivia wondered if finding out about her marriage had been a convenient excuse for Nick to end their affair, that he'd been cooling off anyway. And yet she'd been so sure that he still loved her, had noticed nothing to give her any indication that he was tiring of her. Back then she would have been willing to bet every cent she possessed that he was still as hot for her an ever, if not more. And during that first and last row he'd even mentioned marriage, so how could he have changed so completely? OK, it had been almost two years. Two years in which she had at first been sure that he would relent and come back to her. She'd gone to a lawyer about a divorce at once, but Scott had gone to work abroad and blocked her at every turn so that it had taken over a year before the divorce had finally come through. Maybe Nick had thought that she hadn't really cared about him, that she hadn't been doing all she could to hurry it along, even though she'd written to tell him of her difficulties.
Olivia suddenly hit the steering-wheel with her clenched fist. How could he have been so cruel to her when they had been so close, had meant so much to each other? He could at least have been kind; he must have realised that she wouldn't have looked him up unless she still cared, still wanted him. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered the long empty nights and days after he'd gone away. There hadn't been one day since that she hadn't missed him unbearably, hadn't longed to be with him again. It was like the loneliness of grief, but made worse because she had the torment of knowing that if only she'd told him about her marriage at the start they might still be together.
And it would have been so easy, she could see that now. When Nick had looked at her ring less hand and said 'Unmarried?' she could have just said, 'Not quite. I'm separated, about to be divorced.' Why hadn't she, for heaven's sake? Olivia cursed herself yet again for not doing so. And now it was too late. Nick had been embarrassed to see her, and given her a shoulder so cold it had frozen her heart.
Suddenly she hated him, loathed him. OK, so he didn't want her, had more than likely found someone else by now if that hesitation when she'd asked him if he was married meant anything. So to hell with him. At least she �could stop hoping against hope that everything would be OK again once they saw each other. It had been a stupid, idiotic hope anyway. In her heart she had always known that too much time had passed, that if he'd loved her he would have come back to her long before this. She'd just been a lovesick fool, clinging to a memory, a useless, forlorn dream. Abysmally stupid enough to waste another two years of her life over a man. Well, not again, never! From now on she was on her own and was going to stay that way for the rest of her life. And she might as well start right now! Olivia reached for a handkerchief to blow her nose but her bag wasn't on the seat beside her. She looked in the back, searched round on the floor, and then remembered with horror that she must have left it in Nick's office.
Oh, hell! Olivia would have dearly loved to abandon the bag rather than go back, but it contained her passport and all her money. She hit the wheel again, furious with herself, biting her hp, knowing she had no choice but to go back. Then she remembered that Nick had said that he had to collect a customer shortly; he must surely have gone by now, and she seemed to remember the sound of a helicopter engine. Relaxing in a flood of relief, Olivia leaned her head against the side-window for a few moments, then wiped her eyes with her fingers and got out of the car. The ground rose steeply to her right to where the level plateau and the helicopter hangars must be. Rather than go back along the lane, Olivia walked up through the trees, picking her way through a white sheet, of snowdrops and the thick buds of daffodils. Primroses sheltered in the grassy banks, and beneath a great copper beech just coming into bud there was a long swath of winter aconites, their yellow petals as golden as the sun.
She came out of the wood almost opposite the last of the hangar
s and walked round its edge until she reached the car park. Wiping her eyes again, she walked, chin high, into the building, intending to ask Jane to get her bag for her, but the reception area was empty. Olivia hesitated, but then was glad; now she could just go and collect it herself without anyone seeing her. She walked quickly and quietly down the corridor to Nick's office, but came to a hasty, frozen stop in the open doorway. Nick hadn't left; he was still there, sitting with his elbows on the desk, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders sagging in dejection. Olivia stared open-mouthed, completely taken aback, anger turning to incomprehension. Nick gave a small sound, almost like a deep, agonised groan, and she quickly backed away from the door and tiptoed silently back down the corridor.
In the reception area she leaned against the counter, groping through her chaotic emotions, trying desperately to understand. There was a bell on the counter to summon attention and she accidentally put her elbow on it. Jane came into the room. 'Leaving already?' she asked with a smile, obviously not knowing that Olivia had left before.
Trying to hide her consternation, Olivia said, 'Yes, I— I'd like a brochure.' Jane handed her one and, summoning her wits, Olivia pretended to notice the absence of her bag. 'Oh, my purse! I must have left it in Nick's office. Would you mind getting it for me, please?'
'Yes, of course.' The woman looked surprised, but went to do as she asked. Olivia heard her speak to Nick, and a moment later she came back with the bag. She gave Olivia an odd look as she held it out. 'Here you are.'
'Thanks. Bye.'
Hastily dropping the brochure in her bag, Olivia walked dazedly away from the building again. Glancing towards the choppers, she saw that one was missing, but whoever had flown it away it wasn't Nick. Had he lied, then, to shorten that dreadful meeting? He had been so determined to let her see that she was an unwelcome intrusion from his past and that he couldn't wait to get rid of her. Maybe too determined. Olivia's thoughts raced as wildly as hear heart. Had Nick's real emotions showed when he'd been alone, had thought her gone? When he'd looked so terribly unhappy?
Sally Wentworth - Yesterday's Affair Page 3