by Kim Lawrence
‘Did you forgive me for accusing you of talking to the gutter press about Ben?’
‘You know I didn’t do that?’ She gave a smile of sheer relief. ‘I’m so glad.’
‘You were right, it was Magda. She’s a crazy, screwed-up female and I was a mug to give her a job,’ he said bluntly.
‘It’s a pity nobody saw fit to warn me about her.’
With an inclination of his head, Sam acknowledged this. ‘Her husband’s a nice guy; I’ve worked with him several times. A while back she had a drug problem and with his help she kicked it. Tom asked me to keep an eye on her while he was away working. Like a fool I said yes. She turned up on my doorstep one night with some story about a guy stalking her. If I’d known at the time she had a history of inventing that kind of thing I’d have saved myself a whole lot of grief, but I was sucked in.
‘I took her along to the police and they seemed pretty casual about the whole thing, which, given her history, wasn’t surprising. She seemed so terrified I let her stay a couple of nights, until Tom got back. She had some lame excuse when I caught her going through my desk, and I started to realise she wasn’t all she seemed. She’d read a whole bunch of letters I’d kept from Marilyn and found photos of Ben. She gave me her word that she’d never breathe a word and, after a few tense months, I didn’t give it any more thought. Fortunately, Tom believed me when I denied I’d been sleeping with her.’
‘She told him that!’
‘What, no lynch mob?’ he taunted wearily.
Lindy coloured. She deserved that. ‘No.’ Her trust had come tragically late. She could now see that Sam Rourke was one of the most honest, decent men she had come across—or ever would. The words ‘honest’ and ‘decent’ had an old-fashioned ring to them, but they suited him. He was no saint to be put on a pedestal, but that wasn’t what she wanted. If she hadn’t allowed the past to haunt her, she might have been more objective when Magda had made her accusations. Things might have been very different.
‘The fact she wasn’t the only house guest I had at the time helped,’ Sam continued. ‘Besides, people—present company excepted—find my sincerity irresistible.’
The self-derisive twist of his lips made her wince. ‘It was Tom who asked me to consider her for the job this time. He said she’d been in therapy and was completely rehabilitated. When he found the cheque she’d got from the paper he managed to squeeze the truth from her. He got straight on the phone to me. Poor guy…’ He shook his head pityingly. ‘He was devastated, but he’ll stand by her. At least until she lets him down the next time.’
‘Why?’ Lindy asked wonderingly.
‘He loves her.’
The intensity of his stare made her shiver. Was there a message in those blue eyes, or was it just her over-active imagination at work?
‘Incidentally, I managed to ruin that little rat reporter’s exclusive,’ he told her with grim satisfaction.
‘How did you do that?’
‘I advised Marilyn to give the story to a reputable rag and to beat the worm to the punchline. She was reluctant, but at least she had control over what they printed. These people are experts at presenting the truth in a distorted fashion. Not an ideal situation, but the best I could do under the circumstances. It limited the damage, but fate stepped in and kept us in the news,’ he observed wryly. ‘If I hadn’t been such a mug about Magda, none of this would have happened.’
‘She’s obsessed with you,’ Lindy told him reluctantly. Magda was the last person she wanted to talk about. ‘She goes around telling everyone that you were lovers. If only I hadn’t listened to her.’ Her eyes were dark with misery. ‘It looks like she fooled us both.’
‘There, you just did it, didn’t you?’ He saw her blank look of incomprehension. ‘You just forgave me.’ He patiently spelt out his meaning. ‘Do you think so badly of me that you can’t credit me with the same ability, Rosalind? Or is it yourself you’re so unwilling to forgive? You’re an expert at punishing yourself.’
‘I’ve had a lot of practice,’ she replied slowly. His words subtly shifted her perception. Do I think, deep down, I’m not worthy of happiness? she pondered. It was an unsettling thought.
‘Sam.’
Marilyn and Murray had come quietly into the room.
Sam shot to his feet. ‘Is something wrong?’ The colour drained from his face and fear was stark in his eyes. A fear he’d grown used to living with over the past few days.
‘No, no…’ Murray soothed hastily. ‘Ben would like to meet you.’ He looked to his wife for support, and she nodded encouragingly back.
Lindy knew she would never forget the uncertain longing on Sam’s face. The torment in his eyes etched itself indelibly on her mind.
‘I don’t want to intrude.’
Sam had his emotions firmly back in place. But the fact that he was a stranger, that he needed an invitation to see his own son, stirred all the buried anger and resentment he felt. He had done what was in his son’s best interests, but he hadn’t liked it. Inside, he’d raged against the injustice of it. Despite what Marilyn implied in her present emotional state, she was no angel. If—no, when—Ben got back to normal, she’d soon revert back to her old ways.
‘We’ve told him, Sam,’ Marilyn said tentatively, holding out her hand. Sam stared at the ‘olive branch’ blankly, as if he didn’t understand what she was saying. ‘We told him you’re his natural father. He knows you wanted to see him. He knows about the financial support,’ she said awkwardly. ‘And the trust fund you set up.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that, Marilyn.’ His fingers briefly touched hers before falling to his side. ‘It’ll only confuse the boy.’
Murray laughed. ‘You don’t know Ben.’
‘No, I don’t.’ A nerve in Sam’s lean cheek throbbed.
There was a difficult silence which Marilyn filled. ‘He’s resilient, Sam, a real fighter. Nothing fazes him. Don’t underestimate him. He doesn’t know about his kidneys yet. We thought we’d wait until you have your test results back.’
Sam nodded and took a deep breath. ‘Are you sure about this?’ He quashed the cynical thought that this was some reward for offering his kidney to his son. It wasn’t as if they could retract it if the test results were negative— They can’t be, he thought.
‘Very sure.’
‘Rosalind?’
Lindy stared at his hand. He wants me, she thought. Deep satisfaction flared in her heart. Now wasn’t the time to ponder the significance of the gesture.
Fingers entwined with his, she followed him into the white, impersonal atmosphere of the intensive care unit.
She hadn’t expected the resemblance. The same colouring, the same blue eyes. It was startling.
‘He’s easily tired, Mr Rourke.’ The nurse looked pretty enough to be in a soap.
‘Fine.’ Lindy could feel the coiled tension in Sam’s body. His face looked gaunt, and possibly rather daunting to a young child. She needn’t have worried as she watched the discipline of an actor come into play and the hard lines of tension melt away. His shirt might be sticking to his back and his palms might be slick with sweat, but no casual observer would have guessed this was a moment he’d dreamed about for years.
Only Lindy wasn’t a casual observer. Let it go well for him, she silently prayed. I can’t bear it if he’s hurt again!
‘So you’re my father.’ His voice held caution and curiosity, but no trauma. Lindy felt Sam relax fractionally. ‘What do I call you?’ She heard the challenge in the young voice. Sam must have heard it too, though he gave no indication.
‘My friends call me Sam.’
‘Is she your wife?’
‘I’m not married.’
‘Then I haven’t got any brothers or sisters?’ There was a wistfulness in the youthful voice.
‘Not yet.’
At first Lindy thought Sam was referring to Marilyn, but then, from his expression, she swiftly saw the reference was much more personal. She felt
the colour rise up her neck until her face was on fire. Sam regarded the Technicolor treat with interest. A low chuckle from the bed averted her attention. The miniature version of Sam was looking from her to Sam with a very grown-up expression on his face.
‘I wouldn’t mind a brother or even a sister. I don’t think Mom can have any more children.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Sam replied. It wasn’t his place to dispel this misconception.
‘You’re an actor?’ Sam nodded. ‘I want a proper job…’ The provocation was deliberate. Ben waited for his words to have some effect.
‘Very wise,’ Sam approved. ‘Did you have something particular in mind?’
‘A doctor, I think.’ He looked at the various selection of tubes attached to his pitifully thin frame. ‘It seems pretty cool.’
‘Rosalind’s a doctor.’
‘Cool!’ She’d obviously just shot up in his estimation. ‘I nearly died, you know,’ he told her with the ghoulish relish common to the young and very old.
‘We know.’ Lindy shot Sam an anxious look, but beyond flinching he didn’t react.
‘Do you cut dead people up?’
‘Only living ones.’
‘Cool!’
The nurse came back into the room. ‘I think our patient could do with some rest now.’
Lindy’s nose twitched and she cynically wondered if the nurse reapplied Shalimar for all the visitors.
‘Fine, Nurse,’ Sam replied.
‘You can come back if you like.’ The offer was issued in a gruff, offhand manner.
Sam stared at the thin white hand; an intravenous line poked out of it, stretching the resilient childish flesh. The expression in his eyes was shaded by the sweep of his dark lashes. Lindy blinked back emotional tears as she watched them formally shake hands. The strength of Sam’s big, capable hands somehow emphasised the fragility of the child.
‘I’d like that,’ Sam replied in an equally casual manner.
Back in the corridor he leant heavily against the wall. He held out his hand and looked at it incredulously. ‘I’m shaking,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m actually shaking. Give me a room full of movie moguls out to axe my latest film any day. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing.’
Lindy was moved by his candour. ‘You didn’t,’ she assured him. How did I ever think this man was shallow and insincere? she wondered with amazement.
His brooding gaze shifted to her face and the eagerness in his expression made her want to take his beloved face between her hands and kiss his doubts away.
‘It’s a start, isn’t it? He’s cautious…’
‘That’s natural enough,’ she said earnestly. ‘You’re not the only one feeling your way, Sam.’
‘He liked you.’
‘I liked him,’ she said huskily. How could she fail to like anyone who reminded her so poignantly of the man she loved? Sam’s expression was making her skin tingle with that familiar, dangerous electrical surge.
‘Our conversation was just getting interesting when we were interrupted.’
Lindy sighed. She’d been wondering when he was going to remember that. ‘I don’t think there’s much point in raking over all that.’
‘Don’t you?’ he grated. ‘Well, I do.’ He grabbed her by the arm. ‘Not in here,’ he said, looking around the corridor with distaste. ‘I’ve hated hospitals, ever since Dad died.’ He shuddered. ‘I want the sky over my head.’
A fine sentiment, but does he have to drag me along like a sack of potatoes? God knows what people are thinking, she thought, smiling with some embarrassment at a group of nurses who turned and stopped to stare at the spectacle she and Sam presented.
‘Sam, really, you can’t behave in this…this Neanderthal manner.’
‘Regression is a very liberating experience.’
She twisted her wrist but his fingers were like a manacle. ‘I’m sure bank robbers say the same.’
‘I have no intention of robbing a bank.’
Cold comfort, but what was his intention? She didn’t have much opportunity to ponder this question; she was too busy keeping up with his long-legged lope.
‘Not that way, Sam!’ she cried in panic as she realised the direction he was taking. ‘The press!’ she wailed—too late.
Five minutes later, feeling as though she’d been through a rugby scrum, she sat back in a cab and glared at Sam resentfully.
‘You did that on purpose!’ she accused. ‘You could have avoided them. I feel…’ She shuddered.
‘Soiled?’ he suggested enigmatically.
‘If you knew that,’ she whispered incredulously, ‘why…? Were you trying to punish me?’
‘Don’t start that again,’ he replied, a shadow of anger crossing his face. ‘It’s a lot like falling off a horse. The longer you take before you get back on, the worse it gets. Do you think you’re unique? Do you think I like people rifling through my garbage? I cope and you can cope.’
There was a ruthless gleam of determination in his eyes. ‘If they think you’re giving them what they want they back off just enough to give you room to manoeuvre. If you hide behind a ten-foot-high electric fence they’ll move heaven and earth to find what you’re hiding. It’s a balancing act, and I’m good at it—trust me!’ It was an order, not an invitation.
‘But I don’t need any lessons in handling the media,’ she told him, bewilderment in her eyes. ‘They’re not interested in junior doctors—unless we manage to kill off a patient.’ Her only claim to fame had been her association with Sam, and that was about to end.
‘They’ll be interested in my wife.’
Fortunately, she was already sitting down. For one brief, glorious second she thought he meant he loved her. Then reality stepped in and the explanation for his extraordinary statement presented itself. The anticlimax made her want to weep.
She might be pregnant, and after Ben he wasn’t taking any chances. Sam wasn’t going to lose his child a second time. She’d seen his paternal instincts at work, and she wasn’t about to underestimate them.
‘Oh, no!’ she groaned, closing her eyes. The cab came to a halt.
‘I’m impressed by how well you’re managing to restrain your delight.’ He paid off the cab driver and waited stiffly for her to get out of the vehicle. Lindy cast a swift sideways look at his face. Remote but determined just about covered it.
This was going to be a very painful process. She was about to refuse something she wanted more than anything in the world. She didn’t want to marry Sam for the sake of a baby, even if it did exist. If she couldn’t have his love, she didn’t want anything.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. A jogger, recognising Sam, produced a pen and asked him to sign her hand.
‘I’ll never wash again!’ she declared as she ran off.
The words made Lindy recall that she been strangely reluctant to step under the shower earlier that day. She hadn’t wanted to wash away the scent of Sam that had lingered on her skin.
‘The chances of my being pregnant are slim,’ Lindy said, pausing beneath a beech tree. He mustn’t see how badly I want to go along with this idea, she thought. ‘I know you think you’re super-fertile…’ The light laugh went completely wrong.
She caught a leaf and began rubbing off the greenery with her thumb to expose the delicate skeleton. Then, experiencing a pang of regret that she’d thoughtlessly destroyed something beautiful, she crumpled it in her hand and dropped it on the ground.
‘It’s happened to you before, though. You had a child?’
She looked up sharply. ‘You want to know about that?’ His expression was impossible to read.
‘It seemed you wanted to tell me earlier. You have chapter and verse on my developing years…’
‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration, Sam.’
‘What’s wrong, Rosalind? Don’t you trust me with your secrets?’
He had her there. ‘There’s not a lot to tell.’ She gave a shrug. ‘A fairly common, if sordid,
tale.’ She couldn’t prevent the bitterness creeping into her voice. ‘I went to medical school at eighteen, and to say I was green would be understating the case. He was my personal tutor. You could say he took his task a little too literally.’
Now it was hard to see what had attracted her. He’d been a man of the world in her young eyes—sophisticated, worldly.
‘I found out he was married when I told him about the baby. He already had children.’ She swallowed to clear her throat. ‘He became…’ Her expression grew distant. ‘He was angry. He asked me if I could prove it was his.’
A spasm moved Sam’s lips and his hands clenched into fists. ‘The child?’
It was hard to meet his peculiarly intense gaze. She swallowed again and shook her head.
‘You had a termination?’
‘No!’ she denied fiercely. ‘That was what Paul told me to do. He even offered to pay,’ she told him bleakly. ‘No, I lost the baby early on. It all happened so quickly, Mum and Dad never even knew. Anna was in London—she was a dancer then. She looked after me and later Hope came.’ A shudder rippled through her body.
‘You thought I was like that bastard?’ The anger in his voice made her tense.
She knew it must seem the greatest insult imaginable to him. Knowing now what sort of man Sam was, she could well appreciate his outrage.
‘You have to understand, Sam, I haven’t been able to trust my judgement since then.’ Her voice trembled with the intensity of her feelings. ‘When you didn’t deny Magda’s lies, I felt as if the same thing was happening all over again. The things I said to you were all the things I’d wished over the years I had said to Paul. I didn’t say anything, you see, when he said all those vile things to me. I just stood there. I should have defended myself, but I was paralysed. I’d been so frightened when I found out about the baby, but I kept telling myself that Paul would make it all right.’
Her mouth twisted in a self-derisive smile. ‘I really believed he would. I’m truly sorry I used you to purge myself of old demons, Sam. You deserve better.’
‘I’ve got broad shoulders.’