The thunderous knock on the door startled both of them, but only for a moment, and then Claire was taking the stairs two at a time, anxious to hand over her responsibilities to people who knew what they were doing. A tall man and a much smaller woman were standing outside, their arms full of medical paraphernalia.
“Are we in time?” They were already past her and half way up the stairs as they asked the question.
“Yes…but only just I think,” she told them, slamming the door against a sudden gust of wind that threatened to take it off its hinges.
* * *
Beth’s baby was born an hour later, and as the midwife placed him, still naked and slippery, onto his mother’s stomach, Claire’s tears spilled over. She had stayed with Beth throughout the labor. She had held her hand and encouraged her to push. She had brushed back the damp tangle of her hair and kept her forehead cool with a wet flannel. And now it was all over and the baby was perfect. He was dark, like Carl, and the ferocious frown of the newborn screwed up his face.
“He’s just beautiful,” she told Beth, wiping her eyes. Then she took a few photos with her cell phone before unpacking her camera in order to take some high quality pictures.
Beth smiled at her with a new radiance as she held out her arms for her new son. The midwife wrapped him in a clean towel and handed him to her. Then she and her assistant busied themselves tidying up while Claire took picture after picture of mother and baby as they gazed wonderingly at one another. It wasn’t until she had finished that Beth asked about Carl and Daniel.
Claire shook her head. “I’m sorry Beth. I’ve been calling Daniel for hours but his cell isn’t picking up. I’ve left a whole string of voice mail messages though, so we should hear from them as soon as they have a signal.”
Beth’s eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t meant to be like this. Carl was meant to be here with me.”
“I know he was. It was just bad luck that you went into labor early.”
“It wasn’t bad luck. It was all my own fault.” Beth shook her head as she shifted the baby into a more comfortable position. “He arrived early because I let that old goat who calls himself Carl’s father upset me!”
“I don’t think it happens like that. Babies come when they’re ready, not because their mothers are upset,” Claire did her best to reassure her, but Beth wouldn’t listen. Instead the worry and fear she had been keeping shut up inside her burst out, and she began to talk.
Claire listened in growing horror as she learned about the trouble the family business was in, and how the only way it had a chance of being saved was for Daniel and Carl to get their father removed from the Board.
“The last few weeks have been dreadful,” Beth told her. “So much so, that in the end I decided I would go and see Carl’s parents. I thought if I made the first move I might be able to put things right, persuade my father-in-law to let go of the reins maybe.”
She saw the expression on Claire’s face and sighed. “I know! I know! I accept it was a stupid idea, but I had to try because Carl and Daniel are worried that removing him from the Board will destroy their father and it’s tearing them apart!”
She paused for a moment and looked down at her own new son. When she spoke again her voice held a mix of puzzlement and despair. “I just don’t understand how he can behave like he does. How can anyone do what he is doing to both of his sons and not care about it?”
“Does Carl know that you went to see him?”
“No. Nor does Daniel, and you mustn’t tell them. They must never know the things he said about Carl; about how he wasn’t fit to father a child; about how any child of ours was likely to end up on drugs and worse. Of course my mother-in-law wasn’t around. If she had been he wouldn’t have said such terrible things, but she was having a coffee with Carl at the print shop. You see I deliberately chose my time. I thought if I visited him alone I might be able to appeal to his better nature. Stupid of me to think that he had one,” she added bitterly.
Claire was relieved when the midwife and her assistant came back into the room and said they needed to check Beth and the baby. She wanted Beth to enjoy her first hours with her little boy, not obsess about her father-in-law’s cruelty. He had already done enough damage.
“I’ll go and get us all something to eat,” she said.
Glad to have something practical to do to counteract her growing anger, Claire rummaged through Beth’s cupboards until she found enough ingredients to put together several rounds of sandwiches. She added cakes and biscuits, and some fruit, piled the whole lot onto a tray and carried it through to the sitting room. Then, because the others were still busy, she scrolled down to the cell phone pictures she had taken of Beth and the baby and sent them across the ether to Daniel, hoping against hope he would pick up soon.
* * *
By the time he finally called, Beth was asleep and Claire was sitting on the sofa cradling the baby. He had stirred just as Beth’s eyes began to close, and the midwife had handed him to Claire and told her to try to keep him quiet for an hour or so while Beth got some rest. Then, barely pausing long enough to check Claire knew enough about small babies, and new mothers, to be left in charge of both of them, she and her colleague had rushed off to another emergency.
“Claire! It’s Daniel.” The connection was so poor she missed one word in three. He did manage to make her understand that he and Carl were on their way home, however, and that they hoped to be back in Dolphin Key by lunchtime.
With a sigh of relief she put down her cell phone and looked at the sleeping baby. “Your Daddy will be here to see you soon,” she told him, gently stroking his cheek. “And your Uncle Daniel will want to see you too,” she added, feeling as if her heart were about to break as she said the words out loud.
She didn’t want to be around to see the pain Daniel would feel when he met his new nephew for the first time. To all outward appearances he might have got over his relationship with Beth, but the concern she had heard in his voice when he spoke to her on the phone told her otherwise, and she was quite sure the sight of Carl and Beth’s new baby would bring it all back.
* * *
“Was that Carl?” Beth called from the bedroom.
“It was Daniel. He said they’ll be here by lunchtime,” Claire told her, carrying the baby back into the bedroom. “And as soon as they arrive I’m going to leave you all and go and tell Mr and Mrs Marchant and the twins the good news.”
Beth stared up at her. There was something in Claire’s face that spelled trouble but, before she could question her, the baby started to cry, and soon Beth was too wrapped up in motherhood to remember anything about it at all.
Chapter Twenty
True to their promise, Daniel and Carl turned up at midday. By then, taking advantage of the fact that both Beth and the baby had gone back to sleep again, Claire had washed up and tidied the kitchen, returned the uneaten food to the fridge, laid the table, plus a tray for Beth, and made a large pan of vegetable soup based as closely as possible on her memory of a recipe her mother had used for years. She had also laid out bread, pickles, and cold meats, and a bowl of fruit. Satisfied there was little else she could do, she had then sat down and waited for them to arrive.
One look at their faces told her all she needed to know. It was obvious from their expressions that they had had a bad time and that they were tired and hungry, as well as worried out of their wits.
“It’s okay! Everything is fine,” she hastened to reassure them as they reached the top of the stairs. “Beth and the baby are both asleep. He’s a lovely little boy,” she added, smiling at Carl.
He dumped his bag, stripped off his coat, and disappeared into the bedroom without a word, leaving Claire and Daniel staring at one another.
Hardening her heart against the weariness she could see on his face, Claire told him what had happened; why Beth had called her; and why the baby had ended up being born at home. Then she waved towards the food on the table, told him soup was s
immering on the stove, picked up her bags, and prepared to leave.
He put out a hand to stop her. “Please don’t go yet Claire. Carl will want to thank you for everything you’ve done. I don’t even want to think about what might have happened if you hadn’t been here.”
“If I hadn’t been here then Beth would have called someone else,” Claire told him, her manner matter-of-fact. She was determined to keep emotion out of this. She was also desperate to leave before Daniel met his new nephew.
“Look I have to go. There are things I must do, things that won’t wait. Give Beth my love and tell her I’ll be in touch later.”
He gave a slow nod. “I’ll do that, but I’ll also come and find you myself later on. There are things I need to say to you Claire. Things I should have told you when you first arrived in Florida.”
She turned away dismissively and headed for the stairs. There was nothing he could or should have told her that would influence what she was about to do. Nor was she going to let him stop her, which was why she had to go now, before she gave herself away, and before her heart broke entirely when she saw him nursing the baby nephew who he probably wished was his own son.
* * *
She didn’t give herself time to think when she reached her apartment either. She just dumped her belongings inside and called the airport and the local taxi service. Then she hurried back down the stairs and walked to the office to collect the golf cart she kept parked outside its main door. She took it without bothering to tell Scott even though she could see him through the open window.
Although it was still windy the gusts had lost most of their force. The aftermath of the storm meant it took her longer than usual to drive to the Marchant’s family home, however, because the streets were strewn with broken branches and other debris. When she eventually arrived she went straight round to the rear of the house, knowing that she was most likely to find Mrs Marchant in the kitchen.
As expected, she was standing at the counter preparing a meal for later in the day. She smiled a welcome at Claire and asked her if she would like a coffee.
“Thank you, but no,” Claire shook her head decisively. “I haven’t really come to socialize. I need to talk to Mr Marchant about something, but before I do I have some news for you. Beth had a little boy this morning. He is completely beautiful and will probably look like Carl when his features straighten out and he stops frowning…”
She stopped abruptly as Mrs Marchant burst into tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pushing away a feeling of guilt. “I should have realized it would be a shock and led up to it a bit more gently. They’re both at home though because the storm meant Beth couldn’t make it to the maternity unit. If you want to go and see them I’ll stay with Mr Marchant.”
For a long moment the frail woman in front of her hesitated, then she gave Claire a grateful smile. “If you really mean it, then thank you. I’ve already plated up some lunch for him. It’s in the fridge. He usually eats around one-thirty.”
“Don’t worry about him. I’ll make sure he knows where it is,” Claire chose her words carefully as she directed her gently towards the doorway.
Mrs Marchant paused on the threshold and then turned and looked at her. “You probably think I’ve been a terrible coward over Carl,” she said. “But coward or not, nobody is going to prevent me from seeing my grandson.”
Then she straightened her shoulders and moved purposefully across the hallway to the main entrance and went outside. Within moments Claire heard the roar of a car engine. She gave a grim smile of satisfaction as she set off in search of Daniel’s father.
* * *
She found him in his study listening to music. When he heard her enter the room he assumed it was his wife and turned towards her with a querulous frown on his face.
“Surely it must be lunchtime by now.”
“Mrs Marchant said to tell you that your lunch is on a plate in the fridge.”
His frown grew fiercer when he heard Claire’s voice. “What do you mean, it’s in the fridge? Why hasn’t she served it yet? Call her for me.”
“I can’t. She’s not here. She’s gone to see your new grandson,” Claire told him. “He was born at four-thirty this morning, in his home above Carl’s print shop. And if you were a better father and husband then she would have been there with Beth when she needed her. She would have been there for his birth, instead of here with you, pandering to your every whim!”
“How dare you!” Gordon Marchant put his hands on the desk and pushed himself to his feet. His face was red with anger.
“I dare because nobody else will,” Claire told him coolly. “I dare because I was the one who saw your grandson enter the world, instead of the grandmother who would have so loved to be there. I dare because I know what your cruel words did to Beth, the woman who loves your son, the woman who has helped him back from the brink without any assistance from you.”
“If you have quite finished, then I would like you to leave my house. I don’t take kindly to having my hospitality thrust back in my face.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’m going to leave, and soon, but not until we’ve talked about every single thing you’ve destroyed, including the family business.”
He sank back in his chair, the fight draining out of him at her words. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you have driven Daniel relentlessly without once giving him any true authority over the business, without even caring if it’s what he wants to do with his life. You weren’t even prepared to let Carl help him. Well now you’re about to pay for your intransigence because your company is in meltdown. The only way out has been for Daniel and Carl to ask the rest of the directors to remove you from the Board. I don’t know whether they’ve been successful. I didn’t ask. What I do know, however, is that even thinking about doing it has almost broken their hearts.”
She steeled herself to ignore the desperation on his face as she continued. “And as well as destroying your business, you have almost destroyed your wife. I know you can’t see her, but surely you can sense how frail she is, how nervous you make her every time you lose your temper.”
“And it’s the same with the twins. They’re frightened of you too. Melanie has a boyfriend who she loves very much, but she’s afraid to tell you about him in case you say you don’t think he’s suitable. She thinks you might throw her out of the house, just like you did Carl.”
Pausing for breath she leaned forward and rested both hands on the desk in front of him, noticing, as she did so, how his face had grown pale, and how his hands were trembling. Refusing to feel sorry for him, she began to speak again.
“When I first met you, I felt sorry for you. Losing your sight must have been a terrible blow. I knew you were grieving for all the things you could no longer do. But now I know you, now I can see that you don’t ever intend to help yourself but prefer to bully everyone around you into doing your bidding without question…well, I’ve just stopped caring.”
“You’re one of the most selfish people I’ve ever met. You won’t even do something as simple as join the Talking Books Service…something that was set up by people wanting to help. Instead you would rather sit around feeling sorry for yourself until someone, usually your poor wife, has the time to read to you.”
“And you obviously haven’t heard we’ve entered the computer age either. There is enough technology out there to bring you back into the world of work if only you could be bothered to give it a try. Ask your friend Tom Cook. He’s moved on. Oh, I forgot…you’ve given up on all your friends too, haven’t you?”
“Enough Claire! What do you think you’re doing?” Daniel’s voice was sharp as he came up behind her. His fingers bit into her shoulders as he swung her round towards him.
“Oh don’t worry, I’ve finished,” she told him, angrily shrugging him away from her. “I’ve done what you should have done months ago. I’m going now. I’m sorry about the job but I can’t do it any longer. Not after th
is. Find yourself someone who doesn’t care about the fact that your father is slowly destroying your family Daniel. Find yourself someone who doesn’t care about you!”
Chapter Twenty-One
A long spell of summer drizzle had greeted Claire when she arrived back in England. Unwilling to talk to anyone about her experiences in Florida, she had fled to her parent’s house as soon as she landed, knowing they would give her the time she needed for her heart to heal. That they were concerned about her was very clear but they didn’t ask questions, trusting instead that she would tell them what she wanted to in her own good time. She was immeasurably grateful for their patience, but also ashamed she was prepared to accept their unquestioning hospitality without giving anything in return.
Now, almost a month later, her interest stirred slightly as she stood looking out of the kitchen window at the early morning rays of a watery sun. Maybe she would go out. She wouldn’t take her camera with her though. Carrying it was still too reminiscent of the time she had spent at Dolphin Key where, whichever way she looked, there had always been something new to photograph. Instead she would take a long beach walk and hope the fresh westerly breeze would clear away the misery that had been hounding her ever since she returned.
On a good day she was sure she had been right to behave as she did, but on a bad day she squirmed with embarrassment as she remembered everything she had said to Mr Marchant. None of it was any of her business and she should have held her tongue. She only hoped that in the end it had done a bit of good. If it had then it would have been worth it. Not that she expected to find out any time soon because she was still ignoring the messages on her cell phone and refusing to look at her emails.
Reluctant Date Page 17