by Неизвестный
‘We had a row,’ he admitted as they trudged up the path.
‘I was already irritable and wishing I was with you and not mopping up the chaos I found at the office. Louise has apparently disappeared with some viscount and hasn’t been seen for two days. She left a message saying she wants me to buy her out. Stephen came in at a bad moment and I lost my temper with him.’
‘You must ring him up and smooth things over,’ she said soothingly.
‘I have other priorities. I need to organise my business so that I can work from here. I have some computer equip-ment coming, and office furniture. Once that’s arrived, I can be in touch with everyone and keep tabs on what’s going on.’
Trish reached up and smoothed the worry lines on his forehead. ‘Is that wise?’ she asked anxiously. ‘You’re sure you want to commit yourself—’
‘I am committed,' he said tersely. ‘I’ll prove that to you.’
Trish found him a homoeopathic remedy for his headache when they reached her cottage and he took it—mainly to please her.
‘How’s Lucy?’ he asked casually, when he’d taken his case upstairs.
‘Missing your lessons!’ she said with a wry grimace. He gave a nervous smile and quickly averted his gaze, as if he was anxious not to make her jealous. ‘I’ll try to fit in extra. How about showing me round the island properly?’ he suggested. ‘After that demonstration of affection at the quayside just now, I imagine all the inhabitants know what colour my toothbrush is by now!’
Trish groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘They’ll know far more than that! I hope you don’t mind being discussed. Everyone’ll be agog to meet you. Come on. Let’s see how many people happen to walk out of their front doors the minute we happen by!’
She was pleasantly surprised to see how well Adam got on with Joe Slater and his wife. So well, in fact, that Joe offered to let Adam use one wing of the large farmhouse for accommodation and an office. The two men wandered off deep in conversation, leaving Trish and Dot Slater to talk about the lack of offers for the leasehold.
‘Can’t keep the farm on,’ Dot said. ‘We’re too old. It’ll go to rack and ruin without proper attention. We got the bungalow ready, on St Mary’s, but don’t want to move till this place is sorted out. We owe it to Ned to see he don’t lose his job.’
Trish covered Dot’s hand with hers. Lucy’s brother had been very worried about the situation. ‘Something’ll turn up,’ she said reassuringly. Her eyes were wistful when she looked around the big farmhouse kitchen. ‘I’ve always loved it here. I’d buy it like a shot if I won the lottery.'
‘Too late!’ Adam and Joe had walked in, both of them looking extraordinarily pleased with themselves. ‘I’ve bought it,’ said Adam, with a casualness that didn’t match his excited face.
‘You?’ cried Trish in astonishment. ‘But why? You’re not a farmer! Adam, are you mad?’
‘Probably,’ he said, grinning at her. His whole face was suffused with delight at the women’s amazement. ‘I mean to run my business from here. Ned can work the land. Don’t you think it’s a brilliant solution?’
‘Oh, Adam!’ she cried, running over to fling her arms around him. ‘That’s wonderful! Ned and Lucy will be so relieved!’
‘And you,’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘What do you think of having me for a neighbour?'
She sighed happily. It meant more to her than he’d ever know. This was a very solid commitment. Her expression told him what she felt, but mischievously she said, ‘Won—
derful! I’ll be able to borrow the ATV whenever I like!’
‘Materialistic female,’ he muttered. But he laughed at her fondly and hugged her till she was breathless.
‘Joe, get out the home—made wine. The dandelion and burdock we made last year,’ ordered Dot excitedly, bustling off to get some glasses. ‘This calls for a celebration. Don’t suppose you’ve got a brother, have you?’ she asked Adam with a grin, as he and Trish separated and came to the table. Adam’s smile was wiped from his face in an instant. In the act of sitting down, he stared at her bleakly for a split second, and then eased himself into the chair and said, quite normally, ‘No. I haven’t. Why?’ But Trish had seen his distress. She knew now that it was something to do with his family.
‘Well,’ said Dot, quite unaware of how tightly Adam’s fists were clenched, ‘Lucy could do with a nice chap like you.’
‘She’ll find someone,’ he said confidently. With great care, he uncurled his lists and laid his palms on his knees.
‘She’s a cracker.'
'Thinks the world of you,’ observed Dot.
‘Yes, well,’ he said, looking uncomfortable. Trish frowned, wondering why. A nasty little doubt crept into her mind and she pushed it away. Adam wouldn’t go to such lengths to prove he was planning a future with her if he was playing around with Lucy on the side. It would work, she told herself, feeling a gentle warmth steal over her as she watched the men eagerly discussing arrangements, and Dot, seeing the blind love in Trish’s eyes, took her hand, squeezed it and gave her a fond, understanding smile.
After a while, Trish and Adam left. They walked hand in hand around Samson Hill while she told him some of the old stories about shipwrecks and smuggling. The Tresco Flats spread out before them, gleaming stretches of sand crowded with gulls. Elegant terns dived for sand eels in the crystal-clear water, then soared into the clear blue sky again in joyous flight.
She heaved a huge sigh of happiness. She could tell from Adam’s face that he loved the wild beauty as much as she did.
Her arm slipped around his waist. ‘I want to show you something,’ she said quietly. ‘Come to the church. I think you ought to meet Grandpa. Gran and I often go to his grave and talk to him.'
He stiffened imperceptibly. ‘No... I... Trish, I think I’d better get back and make some phone calls to my solicitor—’
‘All of a sudden?’ she asked, watching tension draw his mouth into a hard line. Give in to it! she pleaded silently. Stop lighting with your boots on!
He attempted a bright smile which didn’t quite work.
‘I’ve just made the deal of my life!’ he declared. ‘I ought to start the ball rolling.’
‘That’s not the reason you want to duck out of my invitation,’ she persisted. ‘It’s about your brother, isn’t it?’
‘Did I say I had a brother?’ he shot at her warily.
‘No,’ she replied, ‘but I think you had one and he died. And that’s what you’ve shut away—’
‘Then that’s where I want to leave him.'
Trish assessed his mood. Grim, she decided. Unbending.
‘Your choice,’ she said sadly.
The episode dedated her high spirits. She tried to lighten the atmosphere by asking him about his plans for the farm, and soon they were talking with apparent friendliness again. But there was a barrier between them. And it worried her. May became June. Wild flowers carpeted the islands. The summer heat filled the air with perfume and bees, and the boats——and Trish’s guesthouse——were filled with tourists. Despite working long hours, she and Adam managed to spend all their spare time together, enjoying each other’s company more than she could have imagined.
Her grandmother returned, having triumphantly bought more cherries and cabbage roses for her wedding hat, and Trish told her about the baby, wanting her to be the first to know.
Casually her grandmother dipped into her capacious bag of knitting and brought out some psychedelic matinée jackets and bootees.
‘You...knew!’ gasped Trish, her eyes rounding.
‘Probably before you did, duck. Now, why aren’t you two sleeping together?’
‘I’m not sure of him,’ Trish replied, a little shocked by such directness.
‘Make him sure,’ her grandmother told her, and picked up her knitting again.
So Trish took that advice and moved in with Adam, commuting between the two houses. Their lovemaking became more intense. Sometimes sweet and tender, someti
mes urgent and frantic. But always profoundly earth—shattering, and her love for him grew deeper every day. She couldn’t believe she could be so happy—or that they were so perfectly matched. There were times when he laughed her into bed—and those were the most joyous times of all. Everyone liked him. Lucy especially. She followed him around with adoring eyes and would have made Trish jealous if she hadn’t been assured every day and night of Adam’s wholehearted affection.
Returning from seeing her friends at Fraggle Rock Café
one afternoon, she reflected that Adam had adapted sur—
prisingly well. He hadn’t been to the mainland once. She admired him for his single—minded determination to participate fully in island life. Lucy’s brother, Ned, often took him out in Joe’s old boat which Adam had bought. Ned was teaching him the safe passages around the islands and patiently explaining the differing sea and tide conditions. After each trip, Adam would come back full of enthusiasm, eager to tell her where he’d been and what birds or seals they’d seen. Books about the Scillies and birdlife lay in heaps on the tables in the farmhouse sitting room and he pored over them at every opportunity. He was the most passionate man she’d ever known, and his love of life and learning everything about his environment made him very dear to her. She and Adam sometimes worked on the farm with Ned, or spent happy hours decorating one of the many rooms. It seemed they had everything they wanted. Occasionally, in the quiet hush before dawn, she would lie awake, wondering if such profound happiness could last for ever. Then Adam would wake, kiss her lovingly and she believed that it really would.
Lucy adored her computer lessons. Adam said she was a natural. In fact, Trish decided, pushing open the front door of her cottage, they’d be working right now. Perhaps she’d take them a slice of ‘Death by Chocolate’ and some home-made lemonade.
Singing contentedly to herself, she made up a tray and carried it carefully next door. She was about to go into Adam’s study when she heard an odd sound. A frown drew her brows together. It sounded like someone breathing heavily. She listened more intently. Adam? And now... Lucy?
Slowly she placed the tray on a nearby table, her heart thudding like a steam hammer in her chest. As white as a sheet, she listened again. They couldn’t be. He·wouldn’t... Her mind raced. He thought Lucy was beautiful. Had great legs. Lucy adored him. But surely...
She gulped, despair tugging at her heart as she remembered the first time she’d been suspicious of him, and how he’d put her mind at rest. Afraid of what she might see, she picked up the tray to take away again. The tumblers slid and clinked against one another because her hands were trembling so much.
And then, to her utter dismay, the study door opened.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DARLlNG! I thought I heard you!’ said Adam enthusiasticall. Trish searched his face for signs of guilt. He looked flushed, but his eyes were affectionate and warm. ‘l——I didn’t know whether to disturb you——’
‘Idiot,’ he said fondly, taking the tray and carrying it into the room. ‘Disturb me any time with cake! Lucy! Look what Trish has brought to keep us going!’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Trish mumbled.
She felt ashamed for doubting him. Then her eyes fell on Lucy. She looked like a rabbit caught in torchlight, her hair tumbled about as if No! Trish thought in horror. She felt as if she’d been punched in the solar plexus. Nausea rose in hot waves, making her head swim. Not Adam and Lucy. Please no...
‘If you’re sure you won’t stay... ’ Adam said, positioning himself near the door.
He seemed anxious to get rid of her. She bit her lip.
‘Lots to do,’ she choked.
‘Are you all right, darling?' he asked gently. Trish clapped a hand over her mouth and raced for the downstairs cloakroom where she was violently sick. Exhausted, she cleaned herself up, staring at her white, miserable face in the mirror like a zombie. Adam was waiting outside and he immediately took her in his arms. Limp and bewildered, she let him lead her up to their bedroom and tuck her shivering body beneath the duvet.
‘You’re very hot,’ he said anxiously, feeling her forehead. ‘Probably a bug you’ve picked up. I’ll get the doctor—’
‘No, Adam,’ she said in a monotone. ‘You only call the doctor out in a dire emergency. If it’s a bug, I can treat it—’
‘You need proper medicine-'
‘It is proper medicine!’ she exploded. ‘I won’t take drugs! Don’t you belittle my beliefs! Didn’t your headache go away shortly after I treated you? Didn’t Gran’s arm heal faster than the doctors could have believed? I won’t have you thrusting your toxic drugs on me, especially now. Do you want to kill your child? Is that what you’re after?’
‘Trish! Don’t talk like that!’ He looked shocked by her hysterical outburst. ‘I’m sorry. Of course you have a right to your beliefs. I was only worried about you. You look a peculiar colour. I don’t want anything to happen to you—’
‘Leave me alone!’
‘Do you have a headache? he asked. ‘Is the light both-ering you?’
‘No. But I want to sleep,’ she muttered irritably. She turned her head away.
She felt his mouth on her cheek, heard his murmured,
‘I’ll check on you later. You’ll be all right?’ She nodded and then the door closed.
She didn’t know what to think. Maybe her imagination was going into overdrive. Adam had given up a great deal for her, after all. Angrily, she pummelled the pillow into a more comfortable shape and curled up, feeling self—pity for the first time in her life.
Lucy had old-fashioned values. Maybe she’d just felt embarrassed at being alone with Trish’s lover. Almost anything made Lucy blush. Though that didn’t explain the heavy breathing...unless they’d been struggling to move a desk, or scrabbling under the computer station to unplug things, she thought vaguely. There must be an explanation. Adam wouldn’t two—time her. Surely?
Her fears were mounting by the minute and she knew she had to voice them or she would go mad. The thought of his infidelity was eating into her and making her feel more and more nauseous.
She bit her lip hard, terrified that he’d prove to be a compulsive womaniser. Now she felt really sick. For the sake of her baby she had to calm down. Feeling weak aud forlorn, she got up and went to her own cottage to take some Rescue Remedy. When she felt a little stronger, she’d find him and...
It was then that she heard him. A low laugh. A gasp...from Lucy. They were here, in her cottage! Her mind whirled. Had they come straight here, after she’d driven them out? she thought wildly. Had Adam imagined that they’d be safe here?
Shaking like a leaf, she climbed the stairs and slowly turned the handle of her bedroom door. Before it had opened more than an inch or two, her hand faltered and she stood rooted to the spot, appalled by what she was seeing. Adam. Not where he was supposed to be. Not in any way. His back was to her. Lucy was in his arms—virtually hidden from view, but Trish recognised her shoes and her voice.
‘Oh, Adam!’ Lucy cried passionately. ‘This is wonderful!’
In a state of utter shock, Trish closed the door and walked away. Staggered down the stairs blindly. Fell over a chair. Began to weep as she fumbled her way to the back door and stumbled off to a hidden corner, far away in the farmhouse garden, where she crumpled in a small, miserable heap, crying her heart out. And then she realised she was going to be sick again. Weeping with distress, she made it to the cloakroom just in time.
‘Trish! Trish, you there?’
Too weak to hide from Adam, she feebly washed her face, gave it a perfunctory dab with a towel and waited for him to come in, because she couldn’t move.
‘We thought we heard you downstairs in the cottage. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Still sick, sweetheart?'
he asked sympathetically.
She nodded. Reached out a hand because, much as she loathed him, she needed help. ‘Get me to bed,’ she muttered rawly.
‘You
’ve been crying! Darling—’
‘No, Adam. Don’t fuss. Don’t "darling" me. Just get—
me—in—to—bed!’ she said jerkily.
With great care, he helped her to the bedroom and guided her to the bed. His fingers began to fiddle with the buttons of her shirt. She drew back, her eyes huge and accusing.
‘What is it?’ he asked gently. ‘Does that hurt?’
‘Yes!’ she wailed. ‘It all hurts!’ Overcome with grief, she bundled herself into bed, fully dressed, and lay with her back to him.
‘I’m worried about you. There could be something wrong with the baby. You have to let me get the doctor,’ he said sternly.
She heard him lifting the phone from the hook. ‘Leave it!’ she yelled, whipping around, her hair tumbling over her tear-stained face.
‘God, Trish!’ he said in exasperation. ‘I don’t know what’s come over you! You’re fevered. You don’t know what you’re doing!’
She did. She was disintegrating, bit by bit. Staring at him, loving, hating him, she felt her emotions overwhelm-ing her again. Sobs racked her body and she fell back on the pillow as torrents of tears ilowed down her face, salting her parched lips.
‘Go away!’ she sobbed.
‘No. I couldn’t leave you.’
He gathered her up, ignoring her feeble struggles, and he held her, stroking her hair, occasionally kissing her forehead or mopping up her tears with his handkerchief. Too distraught to fight with him, she pretended he wasn’t there. Because soon that was how it would be.
What hurt her most was that Lucy had spoken without stammering. Adam had relaxed Lucy so perfectly with his skilled brand of sweet-talk and lies and lovemaking, she thought bitterly, that Lucy had spoken clearly for the first time in her life.
Did he mean to keep them both satisfied? She tormented herself with that thought, and then wondered what would happen to Lucy if Adam tired of her. The girl was so fragile, so sensitive, that it would leave her in a terrible mess. How could he risk the emotions of two women? she raged, weeping uncontrollably.