Their Scandalous Affair

by Catherine George

  ‘So why are you here? You’re dogging my footsteps a whole lot more than I care for lately.’

  He shrugged. ‘My presence at that dance was a royal command from the parents. But the encounter at the Ivy Bush last week was pure coincidence. Are things serious between you and Mercer?’ he added abruptly.

  Avery shot him a cold glance as she loaded the wheelbarrow. ‘Why? What business is that of yours?’

  ‘You know damn well I still have feelings for you, Avery. I’d hate to see you get hurt.’

  She gave a bark of scornful laughter. ‘That’s rich, coming from you.’

  His eyes glittered angrily. ‘I asked around. Apparently Mercer’s got quite a track record with women.’

  ‘For a heterosexual male of his age that’s normal, surely?’

  ‘Are you in love with him?’

  Avery met his eyes squarely. ‘Yes, Paul, I am. I also like Jonas enormously and enjoy his company. I even respect him, which is a welcome change in my dealings with men,’ she added, very deliberately.

  He flinched. ‘God, Avery, you know how to put the knife in!’

  ‘I should do—I was taught by masters,’ she said sweetly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind I need to clean up. Oh, and by the way, kindly inform your brother that he’s no more welcome here than you are.’

  Paul frowned. ‘Is Danny in the habit of coming here, then?’

  ‘Certainly not. He’s been here just once since the gardening session. He came round on Christmas Day, to give me the camellia I’ve just planted.’

  ‘So that’s where he went! The little devil told Mother he went to see a pal to show off his new camera.’ Paul raised an eyebrow. ‘Was Mercer with you at the time?’

  ‘No, he arrived later.’

  ‘So you were alone.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Did Danny ask for a kiss in return for his present?’

  ‘He took, not asked!’

  Paul swore viciously. ‘Did he get out of hand?’ He pulled the barrow away to seize her by the elbows. ‘Tell me!’

  Avery shrugged. ‘It was no big deal. Just a kiss.’

  Paul’s eyes glittered with fury. ‘I’ll make sure the little tyke doesn’t try it again.’

  She raised a scornful eyebrow. ‘That’s a change of heart. At the dance you warned me off him.’

  ‘I needed an excuse to dance with you. God knows there’s no other way to get you in my arms again,’ he said morosely, and shot a pleading look at her. ‘Is there?’

  Avery detached herself firmly. ‘Absolutely none.’

  A pulse throbbed at the corner of his mouth. ‘But I still love you, Avery. Are you really going to marry Jonas Mercer?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ she lied, wanting to put an end to this once and for all. But with a despairing groan Paul pulled her against him and crushed his mouth to hers. The next moment he was sprawling on the grass with his young brother standing over him, fists clenched.

  ‘Leave her alone!’ shouted the boy.

  Scarlet with rage, Paul leapt to his feet and lashed into his brother with such fury they overbalanced and fell to the grass in a struggling, grunting heap.

  ‘Will you both stop this?’ said Avery, incensed. When neither of the Morrells paid her any attention she ran to fill the watering can, and returned to stand over the combatants. ‘Right, then, you asked for it!’ she warned, and poured a flood of ice-cold water over their heads.

  The pair gasped and spluttered as they scrambled up, pushing wet hair from streaming faces.

  ‘Why the hell did you do that?’ howled Paul, brushing frantically at his cashmere sweater.

  ‘I came to your rescue!’ gasped Dan in reproach.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here, anyway?’ demanded Paul angrily.

  ‘I came to help Miss Crawford in the garden and found you mauling her about,’ said the boy hotly. ‘You make me sick!’

  ‘That’s enough,’ ordered Avery. ‘I’d like you both to leave now, please.’

  ‘Avery—’ began Paul, but she made a short chopping motion with her hand.

  ‘Enough,’ she repeated flatly, and looked at them both in turn. ‘Don’t even think of coming anywhere near my house again in future—either of you.’

  Dan reacted to her words like a whipped puppy, but Paul gave Avery a look of such menace it raised the hairs on the back of her neck. For a moment his eyes glared murderously into hers, but at last he turned on his heel and strode off, with his brother trailing disconsolately behind him.

  Avery put the unpleasant incident behind her, and decided not to mention it to anyone—especially Jonas. And she travelled down to London on the early train the following Saturday in a state of happy anticipation at the thought of taking him by surprise.

  Her taxi dropped Avery outside a house in Chiswick that was so much the opposite of the Barn she stared in amazement, finding it hard to believe that the same man owned both of them. The large, conventional house had probably been built at the same time as her own, but this one was in a different league on the property ladder, with huge windows and a third storey. In a fever of anticipation she hurried up the wide drive to the white-painted front door and pressed the bell.

  ‘Surprise, surprise,’ she said joyfully when the familiar voice answered through the intercom. ‘It’s me.’

  When the door opened Avery’s radiant smile faded as she met the look in Jonas’s eyes.

  ‘You’re too early,’ he said in a tone she’d never heard before. Then she saw the glass in his hand.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked as he closed the door behind her.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ he said, swaying slightly. ‘I’m coming to terms with bereavement.’

  Avery dumped her bag down and went to him with swift compassion. ‘Oh, darling, I’m sorry. Who—?’

  ‘Not who,’ he contradicted. ‘What.’

  In spite of her shearling jacket Avery suddenly felt cold. ‘What do you mean?’

  His smile froze Avery’s blood. ‘I’ve known quite a lot of women, but not one of them was remotely like you. You’re one of a kind, Avery Crawford.’

  ‘That’s obviously not a compliment.’ She took in a deep, calming breath. ‘Tell me about this bereavement.’

  ‘You’d better come in here,’ he said, and led the way— unsteadily, she noticed with foreboding—into a big room at the back of the house. ‘I refer to the murder of my illusions,’ Jonas said with drama, slurring the consonants. ‘J’accuse, Avery Crawford. You’re the assassin.’

  ‘And you’re drunk.’ And dangerous, she thought apprehensively.

  He gave a bark of laughter and made a lunge for the tray of bottles on a side table. ‘Need ’nother drink,’ he muttered.

  Avery intercepted him and removed the glass from his hand. ‘First tell me what this is all about.’

  Jonas drew himself up to his full height to glare down his nose at her, then swayed precariously, spoiling the effect.

  ‘You’d better sit down before you fall down,’ she ordered, and took him by the arm to pull him to a leather chesterfield.

  Jonas slumped down on it, eyeing her malevolently. ‘I drank myself into a stupor last night, and slept late. When I surfaced I rang your shop to tell you to stay away from me, but Frances said you’d already left. So here we are— man to man. Man to woman,’ he corrected.

  Feeling hot suddenly, Avery removed her sheepskin jacket.

  ‘Sit down,’ Jonas ordered. ‘It makes my head thump to look up so far.’

  Avery sat down on the edge of a studded leather chair a little distance away, and looked at Jonas in despairing silence. In his present mood it seemed pointless to demand explanations. She’d never seen him the worse for drink before and had no idea what to do. But silence was supposed to make people talk to fill the vacuum. Maybe it would work on Jonas.

  ‘Cat got your tongue?’ he demanded, after a while.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Don’t you want to know what’s wrong?’

  ‘Of cou
rse I do.’

  ‘I met a chum of yours yesterday. Well, not met, exactly. I was in El Vino’s, having a drink with a friend of mine before that City dinner I mentioned. And who should follow me into the men’s room but your buddy, Paul Morrell? That’s why he was familiar, y’know. I’d seen him there before—in El Vino’s, I mean, not lurking in the gents’.’ Jonas struggled to his feet. ‘I need that drink.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’ Avery jumped up and gave him a push, which landed him back on the sofa. ‘Talk first. Drink afterwards.’

  He glared up at her. ‘Don’t order me about, woman. I want a bloody drink.’

  ‘You can have one after you’ve told me what Paul did to put you in this state.’

  ‘Said, not did.’

  Avery met his eyes steadily. ‘What did he say, then, to cause all this melodrama?’

  Jonas gave another bark of mirthless laughter. ‘Good word. You hit the nail right on the head. Your friend Paul said something ve-e-ry interesting. He said you were going to marry me.’ He wagged a finger at her. ‘I didn’t know that. But here comes the interesting part. He advised me to reconsider, because he knows for a fact that you can’t have children.’

  ‘You know that already,’ she said quietly.

  ‘True. But he told me why, Avery. You forgot to mention that you and Paul Morrell had a child together.’ His eyes stabbed hers like dull steel blades. ‘According to him, it was the birth of this child that made it impossible for you to have any more.’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said without inflection.

  ‘It’s true?’ He stared at her, his face suddenly so haggard Avery realised he’d been hoping Paul had lied. ‘So what happened? Did you have the child adopted?’ His mouth twisted in a sneer. ‘Stupid question! With your background what else would you do! Morrell wouldn’t marry you, I suppose. And Avery Crawford couldn’t possibly let history repeat itself—’

  He broke off with a grunt as Avery slapped him hard around the face. For a frozen moment they stared at each other, then Jonas struggled to get up. Avery grabbed her bag and ran from the house, slamming the door behind her. Like an answer to a prayer a taxi was letting a fare out further down the road, and she flagged it down, hurling herself inside as Jonas shot from the house so fast he went sprawling on his hands and knees.

  ‘You all right, love?’ asked the taxi driver.

  ‘Yes, fine. Paddington Station, please,’ Avery said absently, watching through the back window as Jonas picked himself up. She turned to smile into the driver’s mirror. ‘Don’t worry; I’m not going to throw up in your cab.’

  She made good her promise by sheer iron will. When she reached the station she flew down the steps to the cloakroom, fumbling with change in the turnstile in a panic, but at last managing to lock herself away in one of the lavatories before parting with everything she’d eaten for days. Retching and miserable afterwards, she eventually recovered enough to wash her face. And at last, feeling like death, she trudged up to the concourse to catch the next train home.

  Avery felt numb with exhaustion when a taxi dropped her off in Gresham Road later that night. She dumped her bag down and checked her messages, unsurprised to find all of them from Jonas, demanding she ring him back. In his dreams!

  She took the house phone off the hook, switched off her mobile and filled the kettle. She’d drunk several bottles of water on the train, winning strange looks from the girl in charge of the refreshment trolley, but now she needed tea, strong and hot, to bring her back to at least some semblance of life.

  As the tea began its work Avery made herself a promise. She would revert to the ‘no men’ rule in her life and stick to it from that day forward. She smiled mirthlessly. Jonas Mercer’s request for more trust on her part had been quite a joke. If he’d practised what he preached he would have waited to learn the actual facts. Instead he’d flung insults which, if only by implication, had included her mother. So to hell with him.

  Next morning Avery woke up early, feeling wired and edgy. She burned off some of her nervous energy by doing twice the amount of household chores she usually did on Sundays, and afterwards drove to the nearest supermarket to lay in a week’s supply of food. No lover of this form of retail therapy, Avery returned home in record time and had just started putting her supplies away when the doorbell rang.

  She took the new receiver from the kitchen wall. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Avery, let me in.’

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘Jonas Mercer,’ he said savagely. ‘As you damn well know. I need to see you.’

  ‘If you’ve come to apologise—’

  ‘I’ve brought your coat.’

  Avery’s eyes widened. She’d travelled home from London without even noticing she’d left her coat behind. It had been a bargain in Christine Porter’s sale, but even with a further reduction for trade it had not been cheap. In her misery she hadn’t given it a thought.

  ‘Why didn’t you just post it to me?’ she said at last.

  ‘I had nothing else planned today, and I thought you might need it. Let me in. Please.’

  Oh, why not? Avery thought wearily. She might as well get it over with. She walked down the hall and opened the front door, some newfound sadistic streak taking great pleasure in Jonas’s haggard appearance.

  ‘Come into the kitchen,’ she said without greeting. ‘Just sling my coat over the banisters.’

  Jonas stood tall and silent just inside the kitchen door, watching as Avery put food away. He looked as though he might fall down if he didn’t sit down soon, she thought without sympathy.

  ‘Would you like some coffee?’ she asked.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Do sit down,’ she said politely, and filled the kettle.

  Jonas pulled out a kitchen chair and let himself down gingerly. ‘I saw you drive out as I turned into the other end of the road. So I waited.’

  ‘I could have been gone for the day.’

  ‘True. But on top of the worst hangover of my life my hands are sore, and I needed a breather before I drove back. So I waited,’ he repeated. His eyes, even more bloodshot than the day before, met hers. ‘I needed to talk to you.’

  ‘If you feel as bad as you look it might have been wiser to talk on the phone,’ she said coldly. She made two mugs of coffee, handed him one, and sat down at the table, facing him. ‘Would you like something to eat?’

  ‘No!’ he said, shuddering. ‘Thank you. Would you have answered the phone if I’d rung?’

  She thought about it. ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Exactly. That’s why I came.’

  ‘I thought you came to bring my jacket.’

  ‘As you said, I could have posted that. I came to apologise.’

  ‘For the insult to me, or the implied one to my mother?’

  Jonas flinched. ‘Both.’ He held out his hands, palm upwards, to show angry grazes. ‘I’ve got knees to match. I was chasing after you to apologise, not retaliate, Avery. I regretted the words the minute they were out of my mouth. You had every right to slap me. I wanted to hit myself.’

  Avery drank her coffee, unmoved.

  Jonas made no move to touch his own drink. ‘Will you accept my apology?’

  She studied him without emotion. ‘For myself I might have done, but my mother was involved so, no, I won’t.’

  His eyes dulled. ‘I see.’

  ‘You’d better drink your coffee,’ she advised. ‘You could do with a shot of caffeine.’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t think I could stomach it. I agreed to the coffee to buy time, not because I had any hope of drinking it.’

  Surprised by a pang of remorse, Avery opened the refrigerator and took out a small carton of orange juice. ‘Perhaps vitamin C will do instead. I keep a supply of these for car journeys.’

  Jonas thanked her, punched a hole in the carton with the attached straw and drained the carton in one draught. ‘I was thirstier than I thought.’ He gave her a look which told her what was coming n
ext. ‘Avery, I’ve no earthly right to ask this, but the thought of it’s driving me crazy. Will you tell me what happened to the child?’

  Avery’s first instinct was to scream no, to tell him it was none of his business. But to be fair Paul had made it Jonas’s business. ‘Very well,’ she said wearily. ‘Because this is partly my fault. I should have known Paul Morrell would retaliate.’

  He frowned. ‘For what?’

  Avery gave him a brief account of the episode in the garden, and won a faint, painful smile from Jonas when she described the watering-can incident. ‘I ordered both Morrells to stay away from me in future and Paul left in a towering rage, obviously determined to get back at me in the worst way he could think of. He’s in El Vino’s most nights, so when he saw you there it saved him the trouble of contacting you to tell his little story. But he didn’t tell all of it, and I can’t let him get away with half-truths.’ She got up to make herself more coffee, and handed Jonas another carton of orange juice.

  ‘Contraception had always been Paul’s responsibility,’ she went on, looking away. ‘But on this occasion his purchase must have been faulty.’

  When Avery had told him she was pregnant Paul had gone berserk. He didn’t want to be a father. He didn’t want Avery to be a mother. She was too young. She had a brilliant career, earned such good money. And with their social life there was no place in their lives for a baby at that point. Abortion was quick and safe these days. He would pay for it, and even go with her to the clinic.

  ‘Bloody magnanimous of him,’ snarled Jonas. ‘Sorry. Go on.’

  ‘I had no intention of having an abortion,’ Avery told him. ‘You jumped to the wrong conclusion, Jonas. The moment I knew I was pregnant I made a conscious decision to become a single parent, like countless other women these days. My mother,’ she added deliberately, ‘was delighted at the thought of a grandchild.’

  Jonas swallowed, looking so ill Avery asked him if he needed water. But he shook his head, motioning her to go on.

  Paul had argued with Avery until she was frantic. Then a couple of weeks later she’d felt unwell all day at work, and had got home feeling too ill to go out to dinner. Shortly afterwards she’d been seized with such agonising pain she’d passed out cold, and Paul had panicked and called an ambulance.