Her relief was almost palpable and it destroyed any sense of enjoyment he’d gained from the afternoon. He gestured for her to go ahead of him and watched her pass, trying to decipher the firm set of her lips. He focused on her words, still fighting the terror of walking along a narrow ledge, so high above the pounding sea. Damn it. Okay she wanted the weekend but he wasn’t giving up so easily. He’d be back and next week would be on his terms. “So you have the weekend in which to clear your calendar for the next week.”
She climbed back up to the cliff top and they walked back to the jeep. “It’s already clear.”
“The ‘someone’ isn’t too demanding then?”
“Oh, yes, he’s pretty demanding. But I only see him weekends.”
“Right, so that leaves the week for me, then. Perfect.” They approached the jeep and he reached around her and opened the door for her.
“For you? For the business, you mean?”
“One and the same. You accepted the dare, remember?”
“I must have been mad. One brief risk of vertigo against long days with you and your friends.”
“Come on. That cliff was perilous. One false step and I’d have been history.”
“You know, Mac? It feels pretty much the same for me.”
Her words echoed in his head as they drove back in silence. Was he really such a threat to her? It was so the opposite of how he wanted her to feel. But he hadn’t come here to revive her feelings for him, had he? He’d come here to secure her future, make sure she was all right before he moved on to another chapter of his own life. That was all. Pay his dues and move on. The fact she had a man in her life shouldn’t matter to him at all. Particularly when his future plans most definitely didn’t include her.
They turned into the winery, nestled on its ridge-top site in front of a stand of original bush, and she pulled up and stopped beside a dusty car.
“There’s your taxi.” They watched in silence as the taxi driver stepped out of The Lodge, carrying James’s bags to the taxi. “You were packed already?”
“I’m always prepared to move on. That’s what I do best.” He jumped out the jeep and walked up to her as she slowly got out the car. She stood holding onto the jeep door as if for defense. He watched the fall of her bright hair flick in the breeze and just managed to restrain his hand from sliding down its silky length. “Okay. So we’ll meet at the airport Monday, as arranged.”
“Sure. Monday, then.”
She continued to stand, guarded by the jeep door, as he got into the taxi. He didn’t turn around to look at her as they drove off. He couldn’t. Just twenty-four hours earlier he’d arrived wanting to put things right between them so he could move forward with his plans. So he could do the right thing, clear up the one thing that had continued to haunt him and blight his future. But he was leaving more deeply enmeshed in Susie than before. He’d wondered if things had changed. And they had, but not in the way he’d anticipated. He wanted her more than ever. And she wanted him less than ever. And it was too late for either of them.
He shifted his head slightly and watched her grow smaller through the wing mirror, until she was just a dot, a dot that refused to disappear when he closed his eyes. Too late? He couldn’t bear the thought of it. It was never too late. He had to go back to her. Other man, or no other man. Trust or no trust.
She watched the taxi disappear out of sight, dust rising in a cloud behind it. She felt empty as she walked down to the jetty to wait for the mail boat to arrive. Empty and confused. She’d wanted him gone and yet she felt as if he’d taken a part of her with him. Her heart was heavy. Seeing him again had brought back so many thoroughly repressed memories that it hurt. Like releasing a tourniquet that had been kept tight for too long, the blood surged into that unused area causing pain.
She squinted into the horizon, watching the mail boat pass round the promontory to the small jetty at the opposite end of the bay from her cottage. She could just about see a wave from the front of the boat. She waved back, a grin spreading across her face as a surge of love swept through her. It was always like this when he came.
“Stop the car.”
The driver looked at James through the rear view mirror but didn’t say anything and stopped the car dead. The engine continued to run and the air conditioning blasted out its chill air. But it couldn’t cool down James’s feelings. He’d always been driven by his feelings, always. He’d never had a cool head and it had got him into no end of trouble. And he felt the familiar feeling again, but he couldn’t ignore it. He was leaving behind more than he was moving towards.
He slumped back in the seat as he realized what he was about to do. “Turn around. Take me back to the winery.” He leaned forward. “Better still, drop me off at the bay and wait for me there.”
The taxi parked at the bend before the rise that revealed the small bay and valley of the winery. James walked down the dusty road to the bay, wondering, with each step, what he was going to say to her. She’d made it clear she wanted him gone. Too clear. Why had she been so adamant when he’d seen the opposite message in every gesture, every small smile, every flash of heat in her eyes?
He heard the sound of a motorboat speed away and frowned. It was very hot. The heat of the day hung suspended, heavy and unmoving in the calm air. When he reached the turn in the bend he stopped abruptly. He frowned into the bright light, trying to see more clearly. He raised his sunglasses. She was with someone. She was walking towards the cottage with her arm casually draped around a young boy. What the hell? He knew her brother, Iain, hadn’t had any children, so there were no nephews. A friend’s child probably. He must have just been dropped off the boat that was disappearing around the headland. James frowned. Who was he? A friend’s son? A relative? The boy looked about, what? Ten? He didn’t have a clue about children, but the boy wasn’t a child and wasn’t yet a teenager. Somewhere around ten, he estimated. Dark hair, much like his own. Going to be tall if his gangly limbs said anything about him. He remembered going through the same stage himself. Yes, definitely not a teenager yet. Though, by the look of the size of his feet, the boy would grow to be about as tall as him.
It all added up to something that suggested Susie had been lying to him. James strode forward. He had no idea what was going on or why Susie had lied to him, but he was damn sure he was going to find out.
Susie watched with amusement as Tom peered into the fridge. There’s a meat pie for you. I thought you’d be hungry.”
He grinned over the fridge door. “I’m always hungry.” He took a mouthful of pie. “So how’s your week been, Susie?”
She rolled her eyes. “Mum. Call me Mum.”
“Nah, it’s cool to call your mum by their first name, they all do it at school.”
She sighed. “Okay, fine. The week’s been good really, I guess. The winery’s safe. Pete’s sold to a new investor who wants us to carry on more or less as we have been doing.”
“Brilliant.” She smiled. Her son was so sweet. Just like his father. She knew he was too young to really understand the implications of the deal but there’d always just been the two of them and their circumstances had made them closer than the usual mother-son relationship.
There was a knock at the door. She froze. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She always kept this time free for family.
“I’ll get it.” Tom started to walk over to the door.
She put out her hand. “No, it’s okay, Tom, you eat, I’ll get it.”
She walked down the sunny yellow hallway, past the cluttered coat rack and saw a man’s shape through the glass door. She paused briefly to gather herself. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Gone was the smile, gone was the charm. James stood, frowning, his jacket hooked over his finger, his other hand in his pocket.
“Mac! What are you doing here? Did you forget something?”
“Can I come in?”
She glanced behind her. Tom was quietly eating in the kitchen.
&
nbsp; “I’ll come out.” She slipped the door closed behind her. “Let’s walk and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Sure.” She grabbed a wrap from the coat rack and stepped out onto the worn verandah. The sea breeze was picking up as evening descended. He followed her down the steps and fell into step beside her on the scrunchy sand.
“So what’s up? Did you leave something at The Lodge?”
“No.”
Her heart beat more rapidly as she watched him look down at the sand thoughtfully.
“Plane delayed?”
“Not that either.” He put his hand on her arm and she came to an abrupt stop. “I needed to know why you wanted me gone so quickly.”
She shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“Suse, you were never good at pretending to be anything other than you are, why try now?”
“Because I need to, Mac. I need it for protection.”
His frown deepened. “From me?”
She nodded. Suddenly there was a shout from behind them and Tom appeared, bounding towards them with a surfboard under his arm. Susie dragged the shawl around her more tightly and smiled at Tom. “Careful out there.”
Tom grinned and came to a halt in a spray of sand in front of them.
James returned his grin and Susie held her breath. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Suse?”
Tom stepped forward. “I’m Tom.”
“And I’m James. Nice to meet you, Tom.” James met the boy’s extended hand and gripped it in a firm shake. “You live round here?”
“Weekends. I go to school in Auckland now though.”
“Tom’s staying the weekend.” She smiled at Tom. “It’s a non-stop food-fest.”
“Yeah, Susie likes to spoil me. But I tell her jokes in return.”
Susie watched Tom’s words have an effect on James. The fact that Tom didn’t call her “Mum” came as a relief. She felt an overwhelming need to keep her personal life very personal. She needed to keep the barriers up because James threatened to demolish them with every passing hour she was with him. Why didn’t he just go and leave her like he was always going to do, like he always would do? Why prolong the inevitable?
James nodded slowly as if considering everything Tom said carefully. “It’s good to be spoiled sometimes.”
“But not all the time.” Susie couldn’t help saying pointedly to James, who’d been spoiled rotten by his mother growing up. She turned to Tom. “Tom, why don’t you go and get your swim and then I’ll fix us something to eat.”
“Are you staying for dinner, sir?”
“I haven’t been invited.”
“Of course James is welcome to stay but…” She turned to James. “He has to be off. Won’t even stay for a cup of tea, will you?”
“Cup of tea’s not my thing, thanks Susie.”
“Nor mine!” Tom laughed. “Nice to meet you, sir.” They watched him run off, the rope of the surfboard trailing in the sand, before he threw himself into the sea and slammed his body onto the surfboard and paddled out.
“He’s got good manners.”
“Better than yours at his age.” She could see what James was thinking and the unspoken question hung between them. She followed his gaze to Tom, who was sizing up an incoming wave. “So, why have you come back? Surely it’s nothing that can’t be dealt with over the phone.”
“I wanted to know what you were hiding. You weren’t telling me everything.” He glanced back at Tom. “And now I can see why.”
“You think it’s because of Tom.”
“Isn’t it?”
There was a yell and Tom stumbled up the beach towards them a wide grin. “Did you see that one?”
She turned to the boy and her heart contracted. She shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Jeez, Susie.” For the second time, she was glad of the name he called her. “Are you coming in for a swim, sir?”
James shook his head.
“Mac—I mean James—is just leaving,” she found herself saying. Then she wished she hadn’t as James turned slowly towards her, a world of meaning on his face. All the chat and flirtation of the day had vanished and in their place were words—a question—he seemed hesitant to ask. She bit her lip. She sure as hell wasn’t going to volunteer an answer.
“Maybe later.”
“Cool!” Tom raced back down the beach once more.
James gazed steadily at Susie.
“Later?” she asked quietly.
“Sure.” His eyes searched hers. “I’m going back to The Lodge. I’ll stay the weekend then we can fly to the Wairarapa on Monday together.”
Her heart slammed into her chest. Business was one thing but a weekend in close proximity to James? She couldn’t do it. “But I thought I was going to meet up with you at the airport?”
“Change of plan.” He shot her a grim look and walked away.
Susie sucked in a long slow breath, as she watched him leave, desperate to quiet the rapid beating of her heart. James was nearly at the road when Tom called out. “Susie!” She couldn’t take her eyes off James, still wondering what was running through his mind. “Mum!” Tom called again. Susie closed her eyes and turned to Tom who cupped his hands around his mouth and gave another yell, so loud it could be heard all around the small crescent of the bay. “Mum! Did you see that one?”
She shook her head stiffly in reply to Tom, who then dived into the water. She didn’t move. Just waited. Waited for the sound of James’s taxi to turn around and roar back up the dusty, rough road to the winery. Waited for the drone of the engine as it juddered across the worn corners of the road. But there was nothing. Only the gentle ebb and flow of the waves on the brilliant white sand, and the clatter of the Phoenix palm at the bottom of the garden where the sand dunes began.
She had to know if James had heard. She turned around slowly. He stood there, closer than she’d imagined, watching her. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. She knew what he was thinking.
Chapter Four
James felt winded, his mind numb, his suspicions confirmed. Tom was not a friend’s child, not a relative, not just some kid. He was her son!
Susie stood, equally still, facing him, her eyes bright, biting her lip. She almost looked nervous.
“I’ve changed my mind. I will have a cup of tea and dinner after all.”
She looked down at the sandy ground and nodded. “Sure. I’ll go and put the kettle on.” She disappeared inside while James strode up the hill, back to the taxi, two words repeating themselves as he went—her son, her son. He walked in time to them and was aware only of them as he distractedly told the taxi driver to take his bags back to The Lodge. He didn’t go back inside the house to Susie immediately but stood on the dunes behind the house, looking out over the beach to where Tom was wading through the shallows. Tom turned and waved, a huge grin splitting his face. Then he turned back and waded out into deeper water.
James closed his eyes against the ferocity of the low sun but he could still see the boy’s face. The boy was Susie’s son but who was the father? Could it be him? Could it be that Susie never had that abortion after all?
He let the hope that he had a son slowly fill his senses. A son. It was something he’d never thought to have, not since the consequences of that hot night in the hayloft. Because, long afterwards, his guilt had made him do something stupid, something irrevocable, something to punish himself. But it had been only much later that he’d realized he’d never be able to atone for what he’d done to Susie.
He opened his eyes and watched as Tom jumped the waves, waiting for the rolling wave that was gathering power further out. His dark hair was like James’s, thick and almost black. His shoulders promised to be broad but his body was skinny and long.
Was the boy his? Was James’s instinct about the boy true? When James had first seen him, his gangly limbs, his coloring, his approximate age, he’d felt a slam of recognition. But perhaps that was just because he r
emembered being a boy like him? Or perhaps it was because of something more? Had Susie purposely not told him about Tom because she didn’t want him to know that Tom was his son?
Secrets. He never could stand them. From his days growing up in a household of deceit and barely-suppressed anger, he’d hated them. He wasn’t leaving until he’d got to the bottom of this one.
He watched as Tom took the wave and slid far up the shore towards him. With a cry of delight he picked up his surfboard and came bounding up to James, spraying water as he shook his hair.
“You’re staying for dinner after all, sir?”
“Yeah. I decided I needed to hear your jokes.”
“Cool. The girls love them.”
James groaned inwardly at evidence of further similarity between them as he followed Tom up the worn wooden steps to the cottage where Susie was busily moving around the kitchen. She brought out a cup of hot chocolate and a cup of tea and placed them carefully onto the table. She caught James’s gaze but turned away suddenly and James could hear her banging around in the kitchen. He sat back onto the flat cushions, embroidered with homely motifs that lined the antique cane chair. Tom might like him being there, but he could hear from Susie’s impatient movements that his mother wasn’t happy. At the first opportunity he’d ask her. But, until then, he’d enjoy the luxury of imagining he had a son, something he’d thought to be impossible. Until now. He might, just might, have been given a second chance.
Susie picked up the saucepan lid that had fallen to the wooden floor with a clatter, and jerked the heavy pan back onto the stove. She knew what he was thinking. It was written all over his face. He may be a bastard but he’d always been utterly incapable of lying to save his life.
“Tom! Come and lay the table!”
“But, I was just showing—”
“Tom!”
“Sure, Susie.” Tom planted a kiss on her cheek, hearing her irritation. She grunted, unwilling to show how well his display of affection had worked. He shunted the pile of books and papers up to one end of the scrubbed pine table and retrieved the willow-pattern plates from the dresser.
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