Act of Will

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Act of Will Page 42

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  Resting her hands on her stomach, she thought about the baby. Their baby. His baby. It thrilled her to think that part of Miles was now growing inside her. Oh, she wanted the baby so much because it was Miles’s child. She was going to have the baby. She was going to marry Miles. It was going to work out.

  The shrilling telephone made her jump in surprise. She went to answer it.

  He said, ‘Hello, my love, how are you?’

  ‘Miles, I’m wonderful. I’ve just had a brilliant idea.’

  He laughed into the telephone. ‘So have I. But tell me yours first.’

  ‘You’ve got to go to you-know-who again and make her give you your freedom.’

  ‘Well, I always knew I loved you for a reason, and it’s obviously your brains! And great minds do think alike, it seems. I thought of the same thing this evening, and I couldn’t wait to get through dinner to ring you. I will see Candida again, Christie, as soon as she’s back from Scotland. We’ll sort this out, you’ll see. Everything’s going to be all right.’

  ‘Oh Miles, I feel that too. Where are you phoning from?’

  ‘Broxley Hall, why?’

  ‘Can anybody hear you? I mean it is rather a revealing conversation, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m alone in my father’s study, and the door’s closed. And certainly no one is going to pick up the phone and listen in.’

  ‘I feel so much better suddenly. Christmas isn’t going to be so difficult after all.’

  ‘No, and we’ll be together next week. Listen, darling, are you sure you don’t want me to ring you in Leeds?’

  ‘Perhaps you’d better not. I don’t want to have to start explaining who you are. You know what parents are like.’

  ‘I do, my sweet. I love you, Christie.’

  ‘I love you, Miles.’

  ***

  ‘Where to, miss?’ the cabbie asked, after he had stowed her suitcase in the cab.

  ‘King’s Cross, please.’

  ‘Right you are, Miss.’

  Christina sat back, smoothed the skirt of her coat and glanced out of the window. It had started to snow. Just small flurries but it seemed to be settling. She wondered if it would be a white Christmas, whether it was snowing in Yorkshire.

  She looked at her watch. She had plenty of time to catch the ten-thirty restaurant car going to Doncaster, Leeds and Harrogate. The best morning train on the Northern run, it went on up to Edinburgh. Scotland, she thought, her mind turning to Candida. Miles would get his freedom. They would marry. She would have their baby. She let her hand stray onto her stomach. It was flat. Nothing showed yet. But in a few months she would look pregnant. She would have to start thinking about designing herself a wardrobe of maternity clothes…

  Neither the cab driver nor Christina saw the huge truck go into a skid on the slippery road which was wet with snow and drizzle. The first they knew about it was at the point of impact. The truck slammed hard into the passenger door of the cab and sent the vehicle spinning across the road and into a lamp post.

  Christina was flung off the seat. She hit her head on the glass partition in front of her and landed on the floor in a crumpled heap. She was unconscious when they got her out of the mangled cab and put her in an ambulance bound for the Middlesex Hospital. Miraculously her injuries were minor, mostly a light concussion and bruises. But an hour after being admitted to the emergency room she lost the baby.

  CHAPTER 51

  Christina felt empty and desolated for weeks after she lost the baby. Miles was devastated too; he was kind and loving to her, but it took her a long time to heal.

  Slowly she began to pick up the threads of her life, put aside her sadness about the miscarriage. Her work was demanding and it helped to keep her going. It wasn’t just the loss of the baby which troubled Christina in the early part of 1957. She was also coming to believe that she and Miles would always be hampered by a wife who refused to divorce him. Under normal circumstances they could have lived openly together, but a politician was far too vulnerable, especially a man like Miles, and they would never be able to take that step.

  He had gone to Candida again in February and asked for a divorce. Once more he had been refused. And he had come back to Walton Street looking defeated and humiliated. Christina’s heart had gone out to him that night.

  As he had sipped the Scotch and soda she had handed him, he had said, ‘I literally went down on my bended knees and begged. But to no avail. That woman’s made of stone.’

  And then at the end of the month the bombshell had dropped. His sister had told him that they had been seen together in the Cotswolds. Even their weekends, always so comforting and reinforcing for them both, suddenly became nerve-racking. The clandestine nature of their relationship seemed to grow, become more secretive and restrictive than ever.

  For the first time since they had fallen in love, she and Miles began to quarrel. Small, insignificant quarrels admittedly, but nevertheless the harmony, the tranquillity they had always enjoyed in their relationship was suddenly disrupted.

  In April Christina was sure of only three things: Miles would never be able to rid himself of Candida, except perhaps through death; his political career came first; and she could no longer support the way she herself was living. Her life was built around him, his needs, and the circumstances of his work and the life he had had before they had met. It was impossible for her to continue.

  It became clear to Christina in July of that year that there was only one solution to her predicament. She had to leave England for an extended stay in the United States. Only by putting distance between herself and Miles could she ever hope to break off the relationship. She loved him so much she knew that if she stayed in London she would never have the strength or the will to give him up. And she had to give him up to save her own life. The pain she was experiencing was now too great a price to pay for stolen moments. Also she wanted all of the things he had always said she would want one day: a normal life, a husband, children… and dignity. She could no longer bear to crawl around corners with Miles. And having to hide in the country had become the last straw.

  She did not consult him about her plans, nor did she confide in him. She knew he would never let her go. It would have to be a fait accompli when she told him. Her first step was to make Giselle Roux head of the House of Christina on a temporary basis for the next year. She gave her parents the keys to the Walton Street flat and told them to use it once a month. Her secretary Liz was given another set of keys to deal with the post and other day-to-day matters, since Christina did not want to give up the flat and neither did Jane. And she put plans in operation to start up a New York branch of the House of Christina. She had plenty of money to finance this project and a long list of American clients who were loyal and would welcome her with open arms. And finally, she had her dearest friend Jane who was waiting impatiently for her to come. Christina had confided in Jane long ago, and when she had decided to break with Miles she had taken her close friend into her confidence again.

  The last person she told was Miles.

  ***

  ‘You look so beautiful tonight, Christie,’ Miles said, as he sat down in the Walton Street flat and took the glass of white wine from her. ‘Cool as the proverbial cucumber,’ he said, giving her a glance that was both loving and appraising.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘you don’t look so bad yourself.’ She hurried into the kitchen on the pretence of getting ice, suddenly overcome by her love for him. It was true, he did look good tonight, dressed in a light beige summer suit. Pale colours always sat well on him. She understood, as she filled the ice bucket, that she could not spend the evening with him as she had planned. She had to tell him at once. Immediately. It was too unnerving for her to be with him.

  He said, as she went back into the sitting room, ‘I’ve always liked you in lime green, Christie, but you should be wearing my opals with that dress.’ He frowned. ‘I haven’t seen them on you lately, don’t you like them any more?’


  ‘Yes, I do, Miles, I love them. But they are so valuable, I keep them locked away.’ She cleared her throat, sat down on the edge of the chair and looked across at him. She said as steadily as she could, ‘Miles, there’s something that I have to tell you.’

  He was instantly aware of her grave tone, and knew at once that something was dreadfully amiss.

  ‘I’m going away, Miles. I can’t live here in England any longer,’ Christina said. He tried to interrupt her, but she held up her hand. ‘No, Miles, you must let me finish, you really must. You can’t go away, after all you’re a Member of Parliament, but I can and I’m going to New York. Tomorrow. For at least a year.’

  ‘But darling, why, for God’s sake why?’ he demanded furiously, his face as white as a sheet, his eyes stark with shock.

  ‘Because our life together is insupportable, Miles. I love you, I love you so very, very much, my darling, but I can’t continue. I must put distance between us in order to start a new life for myself, don’t you see?’

  ‘I’ll go and ask Candida again!’

  ‘It won’t work, Miles. You know that as well as I do. She’ll never divorce you. I must go to save my own life.’

  He was on his feet and across the room, pulling her up and off the chair and into his arms. ‘I love you, I can’t live without you, Christie. You’re my life. For God’s sake, please don’t leave me.’

  ‘I’m not your whole life, Miles… only a part of it. You have your political career and you have your children, but mostly you have your career. It won’t be easy for you, but you’ll be all right—’ She could not continue. She slipped out of his arms, moved towards the fireplace.

  He stared at her. He thought the world had just come to an end. His world had.

  Christie said, ‘Miles, if you love me, you’ll let me go, you’ll set me free…’ Tears came to her eyes. She couldn’t control them. ‘If you love me as much as you say you do, you’ll give me this chance, you’ll never try to find me, never get in touch with me, never see me again. You’ll let me be in peace.’

  ‘Christie,’ he cried desperately, ‘please, my darling, this is utter madness. We’ll find a way, we’ll find a solution.’

  She shook her head. ‘There is only one way for us now, Miles. You must let me go.’

  A million thoughts rushed through his head. So many things he had never told her, never shared, so many loving words he had never spoken, so much he still had to give her. He loved her with every fibre of his being. And because he did, he had to give her this chance she asked for. Too late now to do it all differently. Too late now with her.

  Miles took a step towards her shakily and then stopped. He could not go and kiss her. He did not dare.

  ‘Goodbye, my darling,’ he said, and stumbled out of the room. And as he ran down the stairs he was blinded by his tears: he knew he would never love like this again.

  ***

  She wept all the way across the Atlantic.

  Jane met her at the airport, took one look at her and bundled her into the waiting limousine.

  ‘Thank God they invented dark glasses,’ Christie said, trying to be light and normal with Jane, and then promptly burst into tears again.

  Jane took her in her arms, patted her back and told her to cry it all out, and Christina sobbed all the way into Manhattan as Jane made sympathetic and loving noises.

  The tears were endless. But somehow she managed to go about her business, to lose herself in her work. It was work she loved and it helped to keep grief at bay. And she was grieving for Miles, she knew that. She also understood somewhere in the hidden regions of her heart that she would always grieve for him. He had been her first real love and they had loved each other so very much.

  But as the weeks turned into months she became more controlled, and one night she actually fell asleep without shedding a single tear.

  The next morning at breakfast, she said to Jane, ‘I think I’m on the mend. I didn’t cry myself to sleep last night.’

  ‘I’m glad, Christie,’ Jane said quietly. She had understood from the beginning that Christie was truly suffering, and that she was brokenhearted, and so she had been kind, supportive, and continued to be so. Nor had she ever said one mean thing about Miles. Now she murmured, ‘But it has been a long time, you know.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Christie asked, stirring her cup of tea, giving Jane an inquiring look.

  ‘It is the first week of December, you know, and you arrived here in July. Six months of tears! My God! That must be some record.’

  Christina began to laugh.

  So did Jane, and she said, ‘Now I know you’re really on the mend, Crowther. And perhaps you’ll help me plan my Christmas party… our Christmas party.’

  ‘Are we having one?’

  ‘We are… I want you to meet this actor chap, Simon. You’ll approve I hope, because I’m actually thinking of marrying him.’

  ‘How long has that been going on?’ Christina cried. ‘Haven’t I noticed the actor chap around here or what?’

  ‘Oh no, he’s new… and adorable.’

  ‘Actors make lousy husbands, Janey.’

  ‘Are you throwing aspersions on my father?’ Jane demanded a little indignantly. ‘Mummy wouldn’t like that.’

  ‘Ralph is different,’ Christina said.

  ‘So is Alex Newman.’

  ‘I thought you said his name was Simon.’

  ‘It is, Christie. Alex Newman is for you.’

  Christina held up her hand. ‘Oh no… I’m not ready for men yet!’

  ***

  But she had not bargained for Alex Newman.

  She realized that he was different from the moment she met him. He had a distinction that set him apart, and which had nothing to do with his dark good looks or his charm.

  Jane brought him over to be introduced. Christina had no idea as she shook his hand that he had already decided to marry her as he had looked at her from across the room.

  He was charming to her all evening, and attentive to her needs throughout the party. He made her laugh a lot and she enjoyed his dry wit and found herself taking to him. But when he asked her out the following evening she shook her head. ‘Thank you so much, but I don’t think so.’

  ‘Aren’t you ready yet?’ he asked quietly.

  She drew back slightly. ‘What do you mean?’ She wondered if Jane had told him something about her problems, her unhappiness, and then realized her friend would not have done a thing like that.

  ‘Don’t look so affronted,’ Alex said, smiling. ‘Instinctively I feel that you’ve been hurt recently. By a man. And I thought that perhaps explained your reluctance to accept my invitation to dinner.’ He grinned at her rather boyishly. ‘Obviously it’s me you don’t like.’

  ‘Oh but I do like you, Alex, a lot,’ Christina said. ‘And yes, I will come out with you tomorrow night.’

  He smiled and went to fetch them both an after-dinner drink, and they sat by the fire for a long time, chatting about innumerable things, found they had common interests.

  Alex said, ‘I understand from Jane that the House of Christina is ready to be launched early next year, so I guess that means you’ll be living here permanently?’

  ‘Oh no, I don’t suppose so,’ Christina said quickly. ‘The London house needs me, and so I imagine I’ll commute back and forth across the Atlantic. I gave myself a year to get everything rolling properly here.’

  ‘I see. But your business will be bigger here, won’t it? Eventually. I would have thought that you could sell twice as much in New York as you do in London.’

  Christina looked at him with interest, knowing that he was a banker, and for the rest of the evening they talked about business. And later, after everyone had left and she was helping Jane to clear away the glasses and plates, she found herself thinking about Alex Newman and his fascinating marketing ideas.

  As she and Jane washed the crystal glasses, Christina suddenly said, ‘I did like Alex, you were right. He is
a lovely man, and different.’

  ‘And rich,’ Jane said, grinning at her. ‘Not that that makes any difference to you.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. And don’t get any ideas, Janey Sedgewick, I’m only interested in him as a friend. I liked his ideas about business and he says he’ll be happy to help me any time.’

  ‘I’ll bet he will,’ Jane cried, rolling her eyes and laughing. ‘And apart from being charming, good-looking, rich and intelligent, he’s also single.’

  ‘He sounds like Mr Perfect,’ Christina remarked. ‘So why isn’t he married?’

  ‘I believe he’s divorced.’

  Christina shook her head and seemed to shrink into the wall, and she turned away, walked back into the living room.

  Jane ran after her at once. ‘Oh Christie, darling, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘You didn’t, Janey, really. I don’t think I’m ready for other men yet.’

  ‘But go out with Alex tomorrow, he’s so nice, and I know he’s taken to you. Please, for me.’

  And so Christina met Alex Newman for dinner at Le Pavillon the following evening. She did not know then that he would be the one to heal her wounds and make her whole again.

  CHAPTER 52

  ‘Mommy, why won’t you tell me what we’ve bought Grandma for her birthday? I want to know!’

  Christina looked down at her six-year-old daughter and said, ‘Ssshhh, Kyle, don’t shout in the middle of the street.’

  ‘But why won’t you tell me?’ Kyle wailed.

  ‘Because you can’t keep a secret, and Daddy and I daren’t risk confiding in you, since it is such a special gift. We’re afraid you’ll blurt it out and then it won’t be a lovely surprise for Gran.’

 

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